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

Chapter 18 17. In the Mist
Barbarus, Southern Swamp, Monitor Village.

Hades is in his third year in the South.
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Mortarion stood in this dilapidated old courtyard, supporting the man who was about to kneel in front of him with his hands.

The man was saddled, old and blind, with one eye a foggy white and the other full of tears.

Mortarion saw a lot in that eye, fear, anxiety, gratitude mixed together—the man was choking up.

"Don't kneel."

Mortarion said softly.

"You have been enslaved for too long, this situation should have ended long ago."

He looked at the shivering people in the yard with hooked backs, and raised his voice a little.

But even so, Mortarion's voice was like a gossamer in the breeze.

"I will show you a new path."

"Join us! If you don't have weapons, we'll forge them for you. If you don't have armor, we'll make them for you. Stand up, everyone!"

"There's no need to be afraid of witchcraft anymore!"

"Join us."

People listened in horror to this stranger, who was so tall, tall and thin, like a god of death blowing in the wind.

His words seemed to be full of magic, and every word was full of inspiring power, but his tone was indeed so soft, like the nocturne that the mother of the night once sang.

But—most humans here have been completely overwhelmed by fear, they are crushed, they succumbed, and they are completely unable to think about those more distant things.

Even though the stranger's words were full of hope, the people here have no memory of the distant future, of change, of leaving.

The man in the lead—his name was Ragen—cautiously looked up at the stranger holding his hand.

Those amber eyes looked at him earnestly, too, at someone ugly and small, utterly possessed by fear.

"My lord, thank you, we are so loyal to you. However, the fields here must be replanted."

He shrugged coweringly, as if he would be punished cruelly for simply refusing.

But no, nothing happened.

Those hands still held him gently, and there was no contempt or disgust in those eyes. He just looked at him seriously, and then looked at the group of villagers behind Ragen.

Then he let go.

"Okay, the choice has been made."

He nodded and put his hood back on.

Then he took the scythe, turned away, and disappeared into the mist.

Mortarion stood in the mist, watching the young man stumbling and running through the poisonous mist.

And the farther away from the village, the deadlier the gas.

After he left, the young man left the village, following the scythe mark that Mortarion had deliberately left behind.

Come on, show me your determination, your tenacity.

Mortari was silent.

There was a slight tremor on the other side of the mist, and Mortarion turned his head for a glance, before returning to his original posture.

It's him, it's been a long time since we saw each other.

As Mortarion watched the young man, his mind was lost in the past.
Now most of the strongholds in the north have been captured, except for the area near the adoptive father Nacre, the other northern lords have all been beheaded.

And the main stronghold in the north is stepping up production and consolidating the territory. Regarding the attack of his adoptive father, Nacre, he needs to wait a little longer.

But the current progress of the Death Guard is far faster than Mortarion originally expected.

And the key to rapid progress lies in the south.

Originally, Mortarion only sent an advance army, asking them to defend the local people as much as possible and organize armed resistance.

But first, Hades held off the attack of the southern lords alone, providing a basis for Typhon and the others to cooperate with other villages.

Afterwards, with the help of Hades, Typhon and the others obtained the production technology of artillery, battering hammer and other weapons.

Relying on the assistance of long-distance heavy firepower, this advance army of the Death Guard also successfully attacked and occupied the territory of the lords.

During the battle of the Death Guard, the task of destroying the lord in the south went so well that they didn't even need Mortarion's help.

This time Mortarion came here just to inspect the Death Guard in the south, and to see if there was anything he could do.

But after he listened to Typhon's report, he realized that Typhon was more competent than he imagined, and he led the Death Guards to liberate most of the south.

But now, there are only the last two or three strongholds left.

Then there's nothing Mortarion has to do.

Mortarion will not directly ask Typhon to hand over his leadership. He is not an autocrat like his adoptive father. He gives his subordinates enough space to let them grow by themselves and win their own glory.

What's more, he and Typhon are friends.

So Mortarion continued to let Typhon lead the south, and went to find the small villages that were deliberately ignored because of the terrain.

Just like in the beginning, Mortarion killed the monsters that attacked the village, and then went into these small villages to lobby.

Thinking of this, Mortarion frowned subconsciously.

Abandon these small marginal villages, and go to capture or sum up those big human strongholds.

This is indeed an efficient strategy, and Typhon is very smart.

But it shouldn't.

Every possible fighter for resistance should not be ignored.

So here comes Mortarion, and he wanders from village to village—

——The young man in the mist knelt down, he trembled and struggled on the mud floor, his limbs twitched, and seemed to want to climb forward.

Strong kid.

The young man never looked back once.

He never thought of backing away.

thought Mortarion, striding forward quickly, producing a woolen mask soaked in herbal wine.

He walked over and carefully picked up the young man from the filthy earth, while pressing the wool mask to the young man's muzzle, and he looked at him, at a strong fighter.

"If you don't look back, you will continue to suffer like this in the future."

Mortarion said softly,
"It hurts, are you strong enough?"

The young man was struggling to breathe, anger and unwillingness squeezed him, his breathing began to become short, dangerously fast——

"Make me strong enough."

After struggling to squeeze out these words, the young man finally passed out and gave himself to Mortarion with all his heart. Of course he believed in this stranger who had just appeared in his life for less than two hours.
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Mortarion picked up the young man with ease, and returned along the way he had come.

Don't worry about the young man, just put on the gas-filtering mask and the Barbarusian will be fine in no time.

Sometimes, all the tough people of Barbarus need is a little clean air.

Layers of thick white mist kept tugging on Mortarion's clothes, seemingly trying in vain to keep the god of death in place.

Blind to the mist, Mortarion's steps never faltered.

But when he came to a hollow where the mist was receding, Mortarion stopped, and he stared in that direction—

From the dense fog in the distance, a figure appeared.

It's his old friend, Hades.

　Created a Warhammer blowing water group, welcome to discuss the plot, Warhammer's combat power and so on 287540541
　　This chapter references the short story by Barbarusian Death Guard Vaux, "The Horus Heresy - Unity".

　　Yes, that young man is Vaux! (A well-known stickler, later turned into a stinky can, sad. jpg)

　　
　
(End of this chapter)