Warhammer: I don’t want to be a can of worms! ! !

Chapter 18 17. In the Mist

Barbarus, Southern Swamp, Monitor Village.

The third year after Hades arrived in the south.

.

Mortarion stood in this shabby old courtyard, holding the man in front of him who was about to kneel with his hands.

The man was carrying a pack, old and blind. One of his eyes was misty white and the other was filled with tears.

Mortarion saw a lot in that eye, a mixture of fear, uneasiness, and gratitude - the man almost choked with sobs.

"No kneeling."

Mortarion whispered.

"You have been enslaved for too long and it's time for this to end."

He looked at the trembling people in the yard with their backs crossed, 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 way."

"Join us! If you have no weapons, then we will forge them for you. If you have no armor, then we will forge them for you. Stand up, everyone!"

"No need to be afraid of witchcraft anymore!"

"Join us."

People listened in horror to everything about this stranger. He was so tall, tall and thin, like a god of death swaying 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 his mother had hummed at night.

But - most of the humans here have been completely overwhelmed by fear, they have been crushed, they have surrendered, and they are completely unable to think about more distant things.

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

The leading man—his name was Regan. He cautiously looked up at the stranger holding his hand.

Those amber eyes looked at him seriously, looking at an ugly and small man who was completely occupied by fear.

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

He shrugged cringingly, as if mere refusal would be cruel punishment.

But no, nothing happened.

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

Then he let go.

"Okay, the choice has been made."

He nodded and put his hood back on.

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

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

The further away from the village, the more deadly the gas becomes.

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.

Motali was silent.

There was a slight tremor on the other side of the mist, and Mortarion turned his head and glanced, then returned to his original posture.

It's him, I haven't seen him for a long time.

As Mortarion observed the young man, his thoughts were immersed in the past.

Now most of the strongholds in the north have been captured. Except for the area near his adoptive father Nacre, all the other northern lords have been killed.

While the main stronghold in the north is stepping up production and consolidating its territory, he needs to wait a little longer for his adoptive father Nacre's attack.

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

The key to rapid progress lies in the south.

Originally, Mortarion only sent out advance troops to protect the local people as much as possible and organize armed resistance.

But first, Hades alone delayed the attacks of the southern lords, providing the basis for Typhon and others to cooperate with other villages.

Later, with the help of Hades, Typhon and the others obtained the technology to make weapons such as artillery and battering rams.

Relying on the assistance of long-range and heavy firepower, this Death Guard advance army also successfully took the initiative to attack and occupy the territory of the lords.

During the battle of the Death Guard, the southern mission of exterminating the lords went so smoothly that they didn't even need Mortarion's help.

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

But after listening to Typhon's report, he realized that Typhon was more competent than he thought, and he led the Death Guard to successfully liberate most of the southern region.

Now, only the last two or three strongholds are left.

Then there would be nothing wrong with Mortarion.

Mortarion will not directly ask Typhon to hand over leadership. He is not a dictator like his adoptive father. He gives his subordinates enough space to grow and win their own glory.

What's more, he is friends with Typhon.

So Mortarion continued to let Typhon lead the south, while he went to find the small villages that had been deliberately ignored because of the terrain.

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

Thinking of this, Mortarion frowned unconsciously.

Abandon these small fringe villages and capture or unify the large human strongholds.

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

But it shouldn't.

Every possible fighter should not be ignored.

So Mortarion came, and he wandered around the small villages——

——The young man in the mist knelt down. He was trembling and struggling in the mud, his limbs were twitching, and he seemed to be trying to climb forward.

Strong kid.

The young man never looked back once.

He never thought of retreating.

Mortarion thought as he strode forward quickly and pulled out a woolen mask soaked in herbal wine.

He walked over and carefully picked up the young man from the dirty earth. At the same time, he pressed the woolen mask to the young man's mouth and nose. He looked at him, looking at a strong fighter.

"If you don't look back, you will still be in such pain in the future."

Mortarion said softly,

"This is painful, are you strong enough?"

The young man struggled and gasped, anger and unwillingness squeezing him, and his breathing began to become rapid, dangerously rapid——

"Make me strong enough."

After struggling to squeeze out these words, the young man finally passed out and surrendered himself wholeheartedly to Mortarion. Of course he believed in this stranger who had only appeared in his life for less than two hours.

.

Mortarion picked up the young man with ease and returned along the way he came.

Don't worry about this young man, as long as you put on a mask to filter the poisonous gas, this Barbarus will be fine soon.

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

Layers of thick white mist kept tugging at the corners of Mortarion's clothes, seemingly trying in vain to keep the god of death where he was.

Ignoring the mist, Mortarion's steps never faltered.

But when he reached a depression where the fog gradually disappeared, Mortarion stopped and stared at that direction——

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

It's his old friend, Hades.

Created a Warhammer chat group, welcome to discuss the plot, Warhammer combat power, etc. 287540541

This chapter refers to the short story "The Horus Heresy - Unity" by Barbarus-born Death Guard Vox.

Yes, that young man is Vox! (A very famous stickler, but later turned into a canned stinker, sad.jpg)