Warhammer: Start with a dog

-

As Honso told Vannas before taking the field.

The much-anticipated championship battle pits thousands of Chaos Space Marines, corrupted Mechanicus, interstellar pirates, xenos and other strange monsters against their fleets of rag-tag vehicles and fleets of varying sizes and variations in just a few seconds. It was over within a minute.

There is not much blood, nor are there any thrilling skills, power duels, desperate situations, and no drama of betrayal or being betrayed.

Some spectators only took a few bites of the snacks and drinks they bought before the game started.

Some lucky gamblers bet their entire fortune before they have time to do so.

The fastest championship match since the Skull Harvest Feast was held in the Arena of Thorns ended without incident, making it the most embellished event in future legends.

Uruvent's head has been accurately cut off by the pharmacist's robotic arm and placed aside smoothly. The onlookers watched with bated breath as they saw the pharmacist's steady hand and unprecedented advanced equipment cut Aspen. One of the most sacred and brief rituals of the Order of Tate is performed in the presence of the Fallen and even aliens.

Hongsuo half-knelt beside the Blood God Champion and carefully inspected the body of the headless World Eater. First, he used a ray knife to cut open his multi-layered rib plates that had been fused to his power armor. From the twisted deformation His only remaining gene seed was extracted from the chest cavity filled with rotten blood - this seed was as violent as his master. If you look closely, you can see that it has thin metal cable-like connecting tendons and sharp fangs. It had teeth, but no eyes, nose or ears. However, when it bit the pharmacist's right hand, it was pinched viciously and then stuffed into a freezing jar. Then it gradually became quiet due to the low temperature of quick freezing.

Then the Potion Master, accompanied by Grendel and Vannus, who were alertly holding weapons on the left and right, grabbed the blood skull's head, closed the eyes of the World Eater's head with wide eyes, and presented it to the tyrant. He stood in front of his seat and stuck it on the longest and thickest black iron thorn spike under his armrest.

The blood of the last man in this harvest flowed along the thorns and iron thorns, and together with the blood of hundreds of the most powerful and heroic warriors who died before, it pleased the gods in the highest heaven and also made Luft Huron. A new tapestry beneath the tyrant's feet—nothing else.

"You seem to think this is a boring battle, your majesty," Valserx said softly as Honso bowed to them in resignation. "Do you want to admit his victory? I must say, there is no honor, there is no sense of victory between warriors after going through trials, it is as easy as a prank or a collective hallucination."

"This battle," the Black-Hearted King pondered for a moment, "is indeed not very glorious. However, Valserx, the blessing of the unknown god that this hybrid has received and his equipment are so...beyond the usual level. , so that the fighting skills and strength we are accustomed to are useless in the face of this really huge gap."

"I don't know what to say after witnessing this completely unequal battle. Your Majesty, I admit that I felt a huge emptiness, and then panic." The master alchemist lowered his head slightly and glanced at the pair of metals in his hands. Nerve Stimulation Whip, "I think that if it is a warrior who does not have other knowledge like me, the emotions that may arise in his heart may be even more indescribable - the Blood God's darlings may not think so much."

"Ha! Ahem! I like your loyalty and honesty so much, old friend."

The Black-Hearted King nodded with satisfaction. His perception, which had been abnormally enhanced since his resurrection, indeed tasted the emotion he said in Valserx.

"This is indeed the first thing that concerns me. Cough! Cough cough... Moreover, this shameless little bastard has the talent to become a commander who will be famous throughout the ages. I knew it the first time I saw him. We are The same type of person... Even with my pride, I cannot deny that he has terrifying battlefield intuition. Without training, he knows when to deploy an attack and when to use what as bait... When most warriors in the galaxy When he was still learning this knowledge in countless battles, he knew what his opponent wanted just by relying on his own talent, and he could judge the right time at a glance. "The tyrant's rough patchwork stitches and staples. The torn throat slid up and down rapidly, and the protrusions of the metal structure were clearly visible through the bloodless gray skin. "As expected of Perturabo's descendant... There should be a perfect fusion of the Imperial Fist genes. Fabius Bayer's gene manufacturing technology does not seem to be as twisted and advanced as the information we have received. Lots of variations.”

The Lord of the Corpse Group, who earned this infamous title for dissecting a large number of enemy and friendly corpses, laughed emotionlessly. The Lord of the Apothecary followed the Tyrant's gaze on Honso, who had already walked outside the field. Back view.

"Then?" Master Alchemist asked cautiously, "If you don't want to announce your decision or sentence on this occasion, I can prepare some poison later..."

"But Luft Huron keeps his word in the Maelstrom, old friend."

The tyrant who sat majestically on the Throne of Thorns answered, his remaining human eye shining with a dark, burning light of ambition and some kind of hope.

His strange warp pet, Hamadria, shifted restlessly between a skinned monkey and a dog, all the while darting throughout the Tyrant's massive life-sustaining mechanical power armor.

"First of all, the fact that a person like him was not born on the side of the corrupt False Emperor is our first chance. Secondly, this is a smart and capable person who did not choose to wait for his primarch who stayed behind closed doors. He traveled thousands of miles to come to me to get what he wanted. In the end, he must have asked for something from me, because he actually wanted to stay here instead of using his talents in war... I hope he can bring He will lead the team he won to the outside of the Maelstrom to cause harm to the decaying empire... However, the only people I can truly trust are you. We must capture him... and his soul... old friend."

"What does your Majesty mean?"

"You and Galen... must find a way to obtain his technological secrets and make his talents truly available to us."

"What if we find we can't actually convince him to join?"

"Then it's up to you and Galen," Huron's mechanical right hand opened slightly, and the coating on the palm of the Lord of the Maelstrom's power claw was as smooth as new, as red as blood, and the eight-pointed star symbol in the center shimmered. "Whether he is made into a medical meditator, allowed to be parasitized by demons, or made into a servitor...if he proves to be unable to truly be used by me, then others will never be able to obtain him and his legacy."

"Your wisdom, Your Majesty." The Master of Apothecaries turned his head and smiled after hearing this. Deep wrinkles spread on his thin face, making him look unusually old for a Space Marine, as if A twisted ancient tree in desperate need of nutrients. "Then now I am looking forward to the arrival of this new colleague. It has been a long time since there have been any useful manpower added to Hell Iris*."

-

When all was said and done, it was time for Honso to count the spoils of his harvest.

At first, there were some people in Uluvente's warband who were not convinced by such a hasty battle, thinking that Honso only won the victory with his own equipment, which violated the original intention of the arena.

But when Honso stopped Grendel and Vanus, he personally shattered the two warriors who charged at him with the roaring name of the Blood God into crispy jam biscuit heads, fully demonstrating his centuries-old Imperial Fist. After the hybrid's superior skill in fighting among the Iron Warriors to this day, the Bloodskull Warband declared to abide by the results of the Champions War and the authority of Luft Huron, joining them with those of their latest winning team who had just exchanged the old banner of the Bloodskull. Lowered again, rising the silver skull emblem of the Iron Warriors.

Nosa Etasia, the leader of the warriors who enjoyed the art of fighting, was lucky enough to survive, and claimed that since Honso did not kill him in the final championship battle, he was willing to offer his allegiance and loyalty to him. All the power of the warband.

Of course, the blade dancer later went to Honso's camp for treatment, and as he wished, he was able to try the "delicious and just right" painful treatment provided by Honso during the hormone balance treatment - It means that the potion master actually crushed the blade dancer's ribs under the tight leather armor, and let them all pierce into the androgynous swordsman's lungs and chest, and did what Aitasia wanted. It feels like, instead of taking them out immediately, a slow technique is used to allow the sharp fragments to slowly separate out of the skin and flesh over a period of several days.

Of course, the treatment later spread by word of mouth among many followers of Slaanesh and was well received. Finally, when Honso reboarded the warship that had been waiting for them in orbit for a long time, he was the same as when he came, or, first The status and power when he appeared here "again" had become completely different.

He is now a warrior with eighteen thousand warriors from all races and genetic bloodlines, from ancient dilapidated battleships dating back to before the Heresy, to the latest captured Imperial Navy cruisers, and from alien tribal stone balls to Gunboats converted from large and heavy commercial cargo ships, various floating fleets received notifications from the Tyrant's territory, and came to gather around the Battleship, surrounding their new flagship like a halo, occupying a new orbit, forming a new orbit. An extremely large and heavy pirate fleet.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty." Honso was still polite to the tyrant of Badab when he said goodbye, just like he was still walking on the 30K Olympia, as Perturabo's favorite representative heir to the Badab tyrant. The Chapter Master of the Star Claws of Boo spoke to the Guardian of the Maelstrom, "Seeing that your body is in distress, I can't wait to serve you, do a comprehensive examination of your body and relieve your discomfort. But I think I can't let these poor people who have taken refuge in me starve to death here. Selling them on the spot is undoubtedly a sign of contempt for your authority. Unfortunately, their bodies are weak and they still need to eat and drink. They cannot rely solely on photosynthesis. The effect is to complete their mission.”

There is no doubt that these sweet words were expressed in such a comforting manner - indicating that he truly and respectfully believed that Huron had never really fallen into the trap of the Four Gods of Chaos, or was truly successfully seduced by the dark gods - Speaking out actually plays into the hands of the conceited tyrant. As Huron commented before, this bastard bastard somehow didn't show any of the famous inarticulateness and taciturnity of Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists. On the contrary, he really knew how to scratch the itch of the person he was talking to.

Therefore, even though he knew that the Half-Blood War Blacksmith's motives were suspicious, Huron's face, which was patched up with broken skin flaps, still subconsciously revealed a smile.

"Of course." He said half-jokingly, "Go and bring some surprises to the hateful empire. I believe your cunning and strategy will surprise them. When you come back, maybe you can meet me on the Iris of Hell. Two old friends worked together to develop a way for slaves to work all day long without eating or drinking.”

"I would like to lend you your kind words, Your Majesty."

"besides……"

-

On the bridge of the Battleship, Honso met Vannas and Grendel again.

The former was crossing his legs to admire the sight of them emerging from the subspace, while the latter was leaning his ax aside and waiting impatiently.

As the airtight doors opened and the Warsmith stepped onto the bridge command deck, his two companions immediately turned their attention to him.

"Look, I said he can come back from Huron's palace." Adalic said with a smile, "Grendel, this reckless man! I have pushed him back several times, he thought Huron would You deduct it or it’s bad for you.”

"I can't say it's wrong." Honso slowly walked to the command throne and looked at the scenery that Vannas had just admired: as a large number of fleets slowly and cautiously followed the planned route and left, the new Badab was ominous and The dying, gloomy and yellow star gradually began to disappear from sight, submerged by the dense stardust and matter in the maelstrom, like a dim light ball sinking continuously downward into the depths of the black translucent ocean.

"What do you mean?" Vannas' eyebrows suddenly tightened. "He let you go, but put a bomb in your head? Or on your neck? Under the occipital bone? In your spine?"

"There's really nothing new. I can only think of these locations. Adalic."

"He really did this?!" The former Raven Guard jumped up from the equipment panel with his legs crossed, but still landed lightly.

"Of course not."

Grendel came over and looked at Honsou with a frown on his face. He seemed to be wavering between "Should I care less about this mixed-race boss" and "Would caring about him seem inconsistent with my veteran style, which is both internal and external?"

"Then why did you say he was bad for you?"

Honso's blue eyes swept over the Raven Guard and Iron Warriors.

"He gave me a piece of advice about you."

"What?"

"He said that the strongest will always be alone." Honso smiled calmly, even though the two people in front of him began to get nervous, "He suggested that I kill you after you are no longer useful, so as not to be betrayed. "