Warhammer: I don't want to be a stinky can! ! !

Chapter 860 [302.] Alas, it’s just fun to ascend to godhood for a short time
That monster is tearing the galaxy apart.

..............................

"It's unimaginable..."

Trazyn muttered to himself as the Necromancer looked up from his command chair. The fierce and vicious white light pierced his smooth metal face, creating a fiery shadow.

"When did the Outer Ones become so powerful? Or is it because we haven't faced a complete Star God for too long?"

+Because the rest of the gods died. +
Orrickan's voice passed through layers of fate and landed in Trazyn's ears. The Star Master carefully picked up each destiny in its dimensional domain and maintained the most correct path - the true destiny.

+A still intact star god descended upon the Milky Way, and the Outer Ones' fellows were all broken and insane. As a result, the exiled powers began to gather towards the Outer Ones, rather than wandering around the Milky Way in disorder. +
"Well."

Trazyn shrugged, and then he scratched his nose as if remembering something.

"It seems that I have found the reason why Hades is in a coma."

The authority that affects the Outsiders has a high probability of also affecting Pluto, but it is definitely not as serious as the Outsiders. After all, Pluto is just a half-baked hybrid in front of the Outsiders.

+I suggest you keep your mind on the battlefield - Trazyn, while you were distracted thinking about your human friend, a company of Necrontyr was destroyed because of your negligence. +
"Okay! Okay! I will!"

Trazyn gave a loud cry, leaped to his feet, and waved his arms, causing the cloak on his shoulders to fly up.

"Cough cough!"

"Although I still want to say, Orikan, I feel that we can't win, at least the Necrontyr will really be destroyed this time - but strangely, I am relieved - well, no, I am worried and relieved now, probably crazy."

+Leave your fellow human warriors alone, Trazyn. You are like a Warp-infected lunatic. +
“Maybe I’m crazy!”

Trazyn shouted and opened his arms, and the Outer One that almost covered the entire vision of the Necrons shed a white light like holy light, shining fiercely on the Necrons' true master.

"Then let's fight! I don't believe we can't win without Hades!"

"It's time to show my true strength!"

Trazyn slammed his fist, and the metallic sound echoed in the command room.

"Orekan!"

The Necrons shouted with full force,
"I want to become a god! Help me quickly!"

Trazyn suddenly opened his arms, and as the Endless One opened its arms, several geometric shapes shining with strange light appeared around it one after another.

Orrickan recognized at a glance that the energy contained in those creations was no less than the energy of the Eldar gem that allowed the Star Master to temporarily ascend to godhood - a long, long time ago, Trazyn had briefly allied with Orrickan and contributed an Eldar gem that allowed Orrickan to temporarily ascend to godhood.

+Didn't you say that was your last Necrons?! +
Orrickan cursed, realizing that he had been fooled by Trazyn long ago. When Trazyn gave him the Eldar gem, Orrickan had been truly moved for a nanosecond.

“That’s the oldest piece in the War in Heaven collection—but I didn’t say I only had one like it!”

The Infinity Emperor, the true collector of the galaxy, and the figure king Trazyn is here!
Among them there is an Eldar gem - but it was picked up by Trazyn during the chaos when Slaanesh fell, and Hades never asked for it anyway; there is also the dark energy aggregate thrown out on the Ascension Day of Sanguinius, and the Lord of Mankind and Sanguinius did not ask Trazyn to return it; and there is also the broken C'tan core that Trazyn accidentally picked up when he followed Pluto to carry out the Necron tomb robbery. Hades only asked for the army, weapons and technology to be reported to him, but did not ask Trazyn to hand over those worthless decorations.

In addition, there are the Eldar weapons in the Eldar Empire's Fall Theme Hall, the Iron Man's unlimited energy in the Omnic Rebellion Theme Hall... and many other collections.

All in all, if you have a collecting hobby for hundreds of thousands of years and tirelessly try to pick up things that no one in the galaxy wants, then one day you will surprise everyone.

"These!"

Trazyn cried out in pain,

"Is it enough for me to ascend to godhood in a short time? Orikan!"

Enough, absolutely enough, Orikan felt his teeth itching with hatred. The energy of these treasures could make a pig ascend if fed to it, but now it had to be fed to a bastard with a stupid brain.

+Why didn't you take it out when you fought the Silent King before? ! +
Orikan asked angrily,
"I can not let it go!"

Trazyn cried out, gathering his treasures together as if they were treasures.

"I need them to fight the Silent King? Only - only the fateful battle between the Necrontyr and the C'tan is worthy of them!"

....................................

【This is not a good idea.】

Guilliman frowned and rubbed his temple, but he was already standing inside the altar. Runes written in heavy blood spread out in all directions with the Primarch as the center. Thirteen chains and thorns-like through-lines extended out and connected to the thirteen main Black Stone Towers in the distance.

The black stone towers are towering, with their tall spires almost piercing through the planet's atmosphere, and their tops are invisible. Under the thirteen main towers, thirteen small black stone obelisks surround the main towers.

The rune array under Robert's feet was drawn by Mortarion - it was obviously impossible for Guilliman to draw such a psychic array.

【Maybe you have another good idea? 】

Mortarion sneered as the Primarch held the strange-smelling jar in his hand, which contained the pigments for writing runes.

Behind the Primarch, Kalas also held a bone china jar and splashed blood on the thirteen warriors chosen by Guilliman.

Guilliman's breathing was short and silent for a moment, then

But I really don’t know how to do it.

The Lord of the Empire looked calm.

[I just barely felt how to use psychic energy on my offspring - perhaps you should be in charge of the main formation, Mortarion, you are more proficient in psychic energy than me.]

The three psychic arrays, at the moment when Trazyn severely injured the Outsiders, tried to restrain as much of the Outsiders' power as possible and prevent it from returning to the Outsiders.

[But you are the strongest among us, Robert Guilliman. Whether you admit it or not, you are the most powerful psychic among us, no doubt about it - the Emperor chose you, his authority and the authority of the Empire are in your hands, you must learn to use it. ]

Mortarion's breathing hissed from behind his gas mask, and his eyes shone with a light that was calm to the point of madness.
[While I do want to rebuke you, Guilliman, you should have learned how to use your psionics long ago, rather than improvising now - but given that you cannot miss your office hours, I reluctantly understand you.]

The Empire could live without Mortarion for a day, but not without Guilliman.

If Guilliman were to study psychic powers, who would do the work? It couldn't be Mortarion.

An inappropriate joke popped up in the Primarch's mind, and the God of Death laughed dryly in his heart. The blazing light of the Outer Ones made him feel the part of himself that was illuminated by the light stung and burned painfully - perhaps he should have approved more documents before, so that Guilliman could spare some time to learn the damn psychic power. Mortarion blinked, and through the stinging feeling on his body, the Primarch judged that the Outer Ones were about to reach their psychic range, and time was running out.

The pale, tall and thin monster was silent for a moment, then he took a step forward. With this step, Mortarion suddenly became more hazy, more weird, and more like he had dissolved into some other dimension.

Guilliman instinctively wanted to step back, but he held back.

+Feel your soul.+
The soft, hoarse voice of the Pale Lord came from all directions, as if in a foggy valley.

+Feel your soul, Roboute Guilliman, feel your power, feel your rage, I see it... weakened by your long neglect, but it has been waiting for you. +
Mortarion's eyes were like the compound eyes of a fly, with bizarre and colorful blocks flowing in his eyes. There was no time, he needed to let Guilliman feel his authority immediately -

This matter should perhaps have been left to the Lord of Mankind or Malcador, but in the end, just like Guilliman was forced to do something unmanageable, the task of guiding Guilliman's psychic power was given to Mortarion.

In a weird way, Mortarion might indeed be the best choice, as he was originally a Primarch who hated psychics to a greater extent than Guilliman, who viewed psychics objectively.

+You have been ignoring it, you have been telling yourself that this is not the right power, you have been telling yourself that this goes against logic and law... Guilliman, you can no longer avoid and deny it. +
+Your escape has put your army, your friends, and your people in a passive position. They need your strength, but you have abandoned your strength. You must take up the sword...+
Perhaps Mortarion had said these words to himself, or perhaps Hades had said similar words to Mortarion.

+Accept it.+
+Awakening to the nature of the warp requires enlightenment, and it will be painful - but you can even endure a year-round workday, Guilliman, I don't think I have to worry about you not being able to survive. +
Death quipped.

+Let me lead you there... Don't take too long, Guilliman... Let me see your psionic traits... Rationality, control, ruthlessness... Remember them. +
The Pale Lord’s voice became increasingly distant and ethereal, and Guilliman was startled to realize that the scenery before his eyes was no longer the altar, but thick fog.

He should have entered the Pale Lord's realm by now - somewhere in the subspace.

There was silence in his ears, and everything was still. Guilliman felt his heartbeat becoming increasingly harsh.

What should I do now, Mortarion?

He said, but he felt that he didn't make any sound. This was a silent place.

Guilliman waited for a while. Time passed very slowly, and it seemed like a long time had passed, so long that Guilliman felt like he had been forgotten.

Then the Primarch realized that this was not the right way to go, and he took a hesitant step forward, heading in a certain direction.

As he walked, Guilliman saw faint golden lights appearing and disappearing in the mist.

The light did not become clearer as he went forward, but remained dim, and even seemed to be getting farther and farther away from Guilliman. The Primarch had to run, as some kind of mystical intuition told Guilliman that was what he wanted.

Then, the road began to go up. At first it was absolutely flat, and then it began to go up slightly. Then it became steeper, up, up, and up, and finally it became a staircase leading to the sky. The golden light became brighter and brighter, and at some point some green vines wound up the words and laws carved in pure gold beside the stairs.

Guilliman seemed to be still in the fog. His deep blue eyes were now covered with a thin layer of white, while in the middle there was still a gleam of golden light like the stars in the sky.

He just climbed up, taking quick steps one after another on the golden ladder.

As he climbed, countless voices rang out behind Guilliman, calling, encouraging, expecting, loving, supporting - although Guilliman could not hear those voices at first, as the white mist covering his ears and eyes faded away, the Lord of the Empire was startled.

Those voices were so familiar that he instantly recognized his parents' voices among the myriad voices - no, not that bastard Neos, but the voices from Macragge.

Guilliman's breathing stagnated and he almost fell down. He subconsciously wanted to look back, but then he remembered what Mortarion had said to him. The Primarch felt strange, and Guilliman did not believe that he would meet those old friends here.

He gritted his teeth, forced his mind to focus on the outsiders who were about to descend, and continued to climb upwards.

Perhaps Robert Guilliman had realized it long ago, but he avoided talking about it. However, his brothers' repeated comments of "You are very much like the Lord of Mankind" forced him to face reality.

Emperors have been ruthless since ancient times.

Neos chose him, perhaps because he was No. 13. Reason and anger were the vines entwined on his sword of power, and the sword he held in his hand was sharp and ruthless.

Awakening the essence of the Warp means that they are closer to their original origin.

The other Primarchs might find it easier to accept their Warp nature because their daily lives were closer to their origins, but this was not the case with Guilliman. The days on Macragge were too bright, shining brightly on him, making him grow dazzling golden hair and clear blue eyes.

The words that taught him there were so profound that they still shaped him ten thousand years later.

Those hands were always around his eyes, gently asking him not to take that bloody road to heaven.

However, since ancient times, emperors have been ruthless.
Guilliman continued to climb upwards. The golden steps seemed to have a colder color under the golden light, and then even colder, reminding people of the funeral objects buried in the tombs, or the dark halls behind the numerous palace gates.

The nature of the Warp is mostly madness and chaos, not perfect in the secular sense. Sanguinius, who sank into the golden and black hells, and Mortarion, who turned into insect bones in the white mist, awakening the nature of the Warp made them powerful, but also made them more out of control.

There was no time... He had to speed up...

Guilliman could only think of this, and he gritted his teeth, blood oozing from between them. He focused all his attention on this thought to avoid the whispers from the High Heaven.

The cold golden light was vaguely mixed with the blue of Macragge. A strong wind blew up from high in the sky around Guilliman, blowing away the words behind him and making Guilliman's golden hair fly.

Guilliman looked up and saw golden light all over the sky, like threads, tied to him one by one.

Is it fate, or something else?

He finally stepped onto the last step, on which was engraved the treaty between him and the Emperor, and was also the last cornerstone of his throne.

Guilliman stepped forward and grasped the sword, the power that was a fusion of reason and rage.

In an instant, those billions of souls were reflected in his blue eyes, which shone with golden light.

that which was entrusted to him from the Lord of mankind.

The subjects for whom he was responsible.

And...the golden threads tied to those souls.

Guilliman blinked in surprise, lowered his head, and saw that among the countless thin silk threads, there were several extremely obvious thin ropes with a different color from the other silk threads.

He looked along the thickest rope, then Guilliman looked up and naturally saw Mortarion standing in front of him on the altar with a calm and dead look on his face.

The rope penetrated Mortarion's body and shook with the Primarch's actions, but the Pale Lord waved his hand at Guilliman as if he saw nothing.

[…Successful, pretty fast.]

Guilliman swallowed back a cry of surprise - now he knew exactly what the Emperor had entrusted to him.

(End of this chapter)