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Warhammer 40K: I Don’t Want to Be a Tin Can!

This is a translation- Original Author: Night Tales by a Dim Lamp In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war. The Emperor walks among men, striving to restore the glory of the Imperium. Yet, the fate of humanity has long been toyed with by the malevolent Chaos Gods. In this tumultuous future, there is naught but endless darkness and warfare. That is, until the appearance of a Deathwatch Marine named Hades. As the threads of destiny intertwine, can this outsider change the tragic fate that awaits countless souls? The gods place their bets. Yet, Hades remains oblivious to all of this. At present, he's weeping like a snotling that's had its toe stepped on. "Emperor's mercy! Why am I in the Warhammer universe?!" "And why in Terra's name am I a Deathwatch Marine?!" "Is it too late to bash my head in and respawn?!" A comedic tale where a nerdy, unserious protagonist finds himself in the grimdark Warhammer world, oscillating between moments of sheer terror and bouts of uncontrollable sobbing.

Read_and_Chill · Book&Literature
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Chapter 31: Scythe Warfare

Hello everyone, translator here- Thank you for all the support this book has gotten so far. There will be higher than normal releases of this book while I throw myself into translating to help keep me busy while I work through the loss of my dog who passed yesterday.

Thank you for all the wonderful years together good boy.

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Location: Barbarus, Northern Mountains, the domain of the Xenos Lord Necare, mid-mountain.

Now.

The oppressive sky pressed down, with thick toxic fumes flowing like tangible rivers around the warriors.

Mortarion swung his scythe, the chains wrapped around its base clinking loudly.

Each swing of the blade brought forth a rain of blood, with every arc of the scythe reaping life.

Countless corpses piled at his feet, their wounds oozing a dark yellow pus that soaked the ground below.

Nearby, five of Mortarion's elite guards, led by Calas Typhon, also fought fiercely with their scythes.

Endless xenos and puppets, brandishing weapons and screaming, charged forward only to be torn apart by the deadly blades.

A bit further away, Hades too was dancing with his scythe, compressing his dark realm to a five-meter radius around him. He twirled his weapon like a wild dancer amidst the puppet horde, performing a dance of the damned.

Whenever elite puppets tried to charge him in fury, they'd be momentarily incapacitated by a sudden increase in the pressure of the dark realm.

Some even knelt, trembling under the intensified pressure.

Each rotation of his scythe harvested lives.

Hades, seemingly tireless, danced with his weapon. His experiences in the south had honed his skills, and he now knew how to efficiently and precisely claim the lives of his enemies in battle.

Only swift and precise death is the last mercy I can grant my foes!

When the dense puppet horde was reduced to a few fleeing in panic, they all lowered their scythes.

Mortarion's guard, Hazniel, took out his rifle and aimed at the scattered fleeing puppets.

A few shots rang out, and the puppets fell.

From below, one could see a path made of puppet corpses, winding its way up the mountain like a relentless worm.

"That went rather smoothly, I think," Hazniel broke the silence.

"We mustn't be complacent. This is just the beginning," Mortarion's muffled voice echoed from his armor.

As if on cue, from a distance, a voice from the place everyone deemed "unseeable, undetectable" rang out. It was Hades.

"Dodge! From the sky!"

In response to Hades' warning, a faint red glow appeared amidst the rolling toxic fog.

The group quickly retreated to the nearest bunker as countless sparks rained down around them.

As the blood-red fireballs roared down from the sky, the ground's inhabitants roared back in anger.

"Fire!" shouted Death Guard Morlag, standing next to a cannon, pointing his scythe towards the fiery sky.

The cannons deployed at the base of the mountain roared to life, firing bright yellow projectiles that pierced the toxic fog, aiming for the heavens.

The screaming shells declared their deafening war cries!

By the time Mortarion pulled Hades, who was covering their retreat, into the bunker, the first bright yellow collided with the blood-red, exploding in the sky, scattering debris that rained down.

After the first explosion, many more followed.

The sky lit up.

The remaining firepower of Xenos Lord Necare poured down, but the cunning creature hadn't expected that the once seemingly insignificant humans had mastered the technology to improve and manufacture cannons.

Oh, arrogant xenos.

Today is your end!

When the roaring sky calmed and the trembling ground settled, the group emerged from the battered bunker.

The ground, scarred by the explosive onslaught, was littered with burning corpses, the stench of which was so strong that even those in sealed armor could smell it.

The fires burned silently.

"Good thing we managed to set up the cannons in time," Hades remarked, sounding somewhat relieved.

Before this, after capturing the base of the mountain, the Death Guard received a message from their old base.

A golden light had appeared in the perennial toxic fog of Barbarus' equator.

Then, a messenger claiming to be from Terra arrived.

He claimed to be searching for a friend and was currently waiting at the old base.

Mortarion immediately changed the plan to ascend the mountain in three days, deciding to start the climb as soon as night passed.

This led to a dispute between him and Calas Typhon.

Typhon believed that the Death Guard, fresh from the plains battle, needed rest. Moreover, attempting to ascend that day would mean the heavy artillery wouldn't be fully deployed.

But Mortarion insisted on ascending immediately.

The so-called messenger from Terra... Mortarion felt a pang of unease. This couldn't be good.

He had once questioned his origins.

A baby that fell from the sky, where did Mortarion truly come from?

In the midst of the dispute between Mortarion and Typhon, Hades joined in.

Surprisingly, Hades, who usually advocated caution, supported Mortarion's plan.

"Give me one night. We don't need to set up everything. Just strategically place the cannons where we expect attacks," he had said.

The next day, the Death Guard and Mortarion saw the cannons, hastily camouflaged, at the base of the mountain.

And a very tired-looking Hades with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes.

Mortarion looked up. The sky, which had been brightly lit moments ago, was now calm again, with the toxic fog rolling in rapidly.

It seemed Hades' foresight in deploying the cannons had played a crucial role.

"Well done, Hades," Mortarion praised.

Hades shrugged, his armor making a clinking sound.

"We should continue upwards," he said, looking at the winding path leading to the mountain's peak.

Like an ice cube feeling the sun's heat, Hades could faintly sense a golden power at the base of the mountain.

What Hades had to do now was simple.

Assist Mortarion in killing his foster father. If successful, the chances of Mortarion's future betrayal would decrease.

Even if they failed, the Emperor would come to their rescue, and they'd likely survive.

Hades knew that in this game where he might not win but definitely wouldn't lose—

He liked to take a gamble.