Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

Coze glanced to his right and saw a soldier extending his right hand as if to hold a stick towards him.

He was a psychic, hidden among the other soldiers, and was the killing weapon prepared by the powerful for Curze.

Coze could feel the pressure building, as if walls were pressing in on him from all sides, as if to crush him.

Soldiers and tanks also took the opportunity to shoot at him, but the lasers and artillery dissipated when they came into contact with the psychic energy that imprisoned Curze.

But even though he was surrounded, Coates was not panicked at all because he knew he was not alone.

The psychic had to concentrate to barely control Curze, which made him unable to pay attention to other things happening around him.

Wop wanted to crush him to death and help Coze escape.

But he gave up because he noticed that the boy who was blind in one eye and ignored by everyone was struggling to crawl towards a corpse. He picked up the laser gun on the ground, but his only eye was covered with blood clots and his blurred vision made it impossible to aim.

Wop helped him up, lifting his arm.

The young man was blessed with an idea and no longer obsessed with aiming, he pulled the trigger.

"boom!"

The crimson beam pierced the psyker's back, leaving him defenseless and causing him to scream in agony.

The physical pain made it difficult for him to concentrate, and the psychic energy that was restraining Coze instantly dissipated.

Curze disappeared into the darkness, quietly crept up behind the psychic, and cut his neck.

Then nothing could stop Koz anymore, and hundreds of fully armed soldiers were killed in a few minutes, with blood flowing everywhere.

As for those tanks?

Wop grasped and twisted them in the air with his hands, and they were twisted into a pretzel amid the wail of twisted metal, turning into a pile of scrap copper and iron.

The young man lay on the ground, barely breathing.

As he lay dying, he seemed to hear the gunshots gradually subside and the sound of footsteps.

"Kaz, your sins have not been redeemed yet, stay alive."

He heard Curze's voice, but he was too weak to hear it clearly.

Koz turned around and saw Fili leading people towards the platform.

Coz: "Take good care of him."

Fili nodded and looked at the bodies of the dead soldiers with sad eyes.

But Coz had no time to be sad with her. He disappeared into the darkness and climbed up the elevator shaft.

The war is not over yet, a new batch of soldiers is taking the elevator down, and many people will die in the future.

And Koz wants to stop them in the elevator in advance.

Cozee stood between the ceramsite beams, hiding in the gaps around the falling elevator, and when the elevator passed through him, he jumped into it.

So the massacre began again.

The narrow space was more conducive to Curze's performance, and the darkness provided him with cover. Even if he was right next to the soldiers' necks, they could not find him.

The soldiers in the elevator could only watch the people around them fall one after another. They saw death, and fear crushed their insignificant courage.

"There, I see him!"

"Shoot, kill him, kill him now!"

They shouted loudly and fired indiscriminately in the elevator, and the scarlet beams formed a killing fire network in the already narrow elevator.

Curze killed only a few people; the rest died in the infighting caused by fear.

The communication channels fell silent as the powerful watched the massacre live.

Coz picked up the officer's communicator.

"You want war, I'll give you war, but I'll set the rules."

"Wait, this is a misunderstanding. We can talk about it. The nest is yours, and we will not interfere."

Some of the powerful people still wanted to negotiate, and Koz smiled.

"You can't only think about negotiation when you're losing."

"Bang!" Koz crushed the communicator.

"Wop," Curze said dejectedly, "have I become weak?"

"Why?" Wop asked, just as Curze always asked him before.

"Concerns, bonds, friendship, whatever they are, they make me weak."

If Curze had no worries, he would not care about anything and the death of anyone would not shake him, but now the death of a group of mortals has shaken him.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Wop asked.

Curze: "Start a war."

Wop shook his head. "I told you a long time ago, this is a revolution. A revolution isn't a dinner party; it's an uprising where one class overthrows another. Weren't those soldiers who died afraid of death? They were afraid, because who wouldn't be afraid of death? But they were even more afraid that their death would be meaningless, that they wouldn't die for a good cause."

"You are their king," said Wop. "They sacrificed themselves for your ideals. They defended your justice and order until their death! Tell me, what are you afraid of?"

Koz was silent.

He never regretted it because he knew he was right and he knew those people's sacrifices were meaningful.

He will not abandon them nor waver.

He was just afraid, afraid of an uncontrollable future.

He had clearly seen the attack of the powerful in the prophecy of the future, but he was unable to stop it in time.

Hundreds of people died, only a few hundred, only one billionth of the Lower Hive, even among the Night Haunters, they only accounted for one ten-thousandth.

As a whole and individually, they are insignificant.

But what about next time? And the next time?

Chapter 33 I'm Coming to You

"Failure," Coze said.

What he feared was failure, always.

He saw many futures, some bright and some dark.

Victory leads to light, failure leads to darkness.

The Night Haunters are just mortals; they can fail, be weak, or even be incompetent.

But he couldn't do that. He was their king, he wouldn't fail, and couldn't fail. If even he failed, where would those who believed in him go?

Wop reached out his hand, but he soon found himself awkwardly unable to reach Curze, who was too tall.

Koz squatted down. Although the giant, who was more than three meters tall, was still taller than Wop even when squatting, Wop could still touch his head.

"Everyone fails. The Primarch is human, so you are no exception." Wop stroked Curze's head, smoothing his neglected black hair with his fingers. "Besides, you haven't failed yet, have you? Failure is not terrible. What's terrible is that you are afraid of failure and hesitate to move forward."

The biggest flaw of the Primarchs is that they are born with knowledge. They know too much and are easily harmed by knowledge.

They are born as supermen, able to do what ordinary people cannot do, so most of them do not allow themselves to fail.

The most obvious drawback this creates is that Primarchs can easily become extreme.

Some people are twisted, and they will be twisted for their whole life.

Someone thought he was a Muggle, so he turned himself into a Muggle.

Some people hate psychic powers, but they end up becoming the very thing they hate the most.

Those who are good at swimming will drown, and those who are good at riding will fall. Each of them brings disaster upon himself because of his hobbies. It is no more than this.

What the Primarchs need most is not education, but someone to pull them back when they get stuck in a rut.

Most Primarchs had no childhood, so even if they lived for a long time, they were still children deep down.

"You are not weak." Wop patted Coze's head. "Worries can become your weakness, but they can also become your direction and motivation. If you were free of worries, I would be worried. Don't fear the darkness, and don't be afraid of falling into darkness. Walk in the darkness and serve the light. Our cause is just."

"I remember." Coze's eyes were no longer confused, and he stood up. "Thank you, Wop."

"But don't touch my head next time." Coz added, "I'm not a child. I understand what you said. I don't need you to comfort me in this way."

Wop held out his hand.

"Do you know what this is?"

Coze looked at Wop in confusion, his palms empty.

Wop reached out and rubbed his cloak, saying with disdain, "It's your hair oil."

"Impossible, I wash my hair every day."

"Then why do you wash your hair every day?" asked Wop.

Koz turned away with a cold face and said nothing.

Ding!

The elevator arrived at the platform of the lower nest, and the gathered Midnight Ghosts were ready for battle. However, what they got was an elevator full of corpses, and a giant standing among the corpses.

The crowd was cheering victory and they were ecstatic.

"The nobles have declared war on us," Curze said. "Fili, rally your forces and stand ready. I will summon you."

The elevator went up and the giant disappeared from the Night Haunter's sight. He still had many people to kill.

……

The hall was silent, in stark contrast to the laughter and joy not long ago.

At first, no one paid any attention to the disaster.

It was nothing more than a killing, a war, the rebellion of a noble girl, the fall of a nest, until this disaster was closely related to everyone.

The nobles were busy fighting among themselves, seizing benefits, and engaging in intrigue, and almost no one cared about the untouchables in the bottom nest.

They don't even bother to collect taxes from the bottom nest, as long as those untouchables leave them alone.

As a result, these untouchables actually occupied half of the Lower Nest in just a few years. Although the Upper Nest and the top of the tower have not been invaded yet, how long can the peace last?

Someone smashed an expensive crystal wine glass, and his roar restarted the clamor.

"Who came up with this stupid plan?"

"It's Skalewok, you idiot, you're going to kill us all!"

"Even if I proposed this plan, didn't you agree? Without you, I wouldn't have been able to mobilize those troops! There's no point in assigning responsibility now. We must kill him, kill that monster!"

Count Scarewock's expression was ferocious, and he crushed the wine glass in rage. The crystal fragments cut his palm, and bright red blood flowed out.

"The Night Haunter is nothing to be afraid of. The giant is the key. As long as we kill him, this world will still be ours!"

The other dignitaries looked at him coldly, and some sneered.

"How? Who will kill him?"

Although they still had millions of troops, the ones they sent to carry out the mission were already the most elite troops at the top of the tower, and they were accompanied by a top wizard.

But they were all dead, all dead within a few minutes.

In front of a monster like that, no one would think that the advantage in numbers would have any meaning.

He could kill hundreds of people in a few minutes, but how long would it take to kill millions? Ten days? Twenty days?

Moreover, they had no numerical advantage, and they had cut off the connection between the upper and lower nests. Although the people in the lower nest could not come up, the materials produced by the lower nest could not come up either.

The Night Haunters, however, can draw upon an endless supply of armed forces, whose numbers are no less than theirs.

The powerful are bad, but they are not stupid. They understand the potential power of the lower nest better than the lower nest people who have been oppressed for generations!

"Everyone," said a young noble, "the question now is not whether we should kill him, but whether he will let us go."

He pointed to the large screen, which showed the image of the elevator plaza area at the top of the tower.

Tens of thousands of people gathered there, queuing up to take the elevator to the lower nest.

The original plan of the powerful was to use the reactor as the core, gradually expand the control area, and unite with the gangs in the lower nest to eliminate the Midnight Haunter.

But the failure of the advance team has alerted the enemy, and the Night Haunter will not give them a second chance, which also means the failure of the entire plan.