Twenty Is a Shut-In Who Can't Trash-Talk

Barbarus, Southern Swamps, Morit Village.

Hades's third year in the south.

.

The white mist surged. Mortarion stood with his scythe in hand, while Hades, three or four meters away, also propped himself up with his scythe. The young man still lay unconscious where he had fallen.

Mortarion's oppressive presence bore down on Hades, and Hades could even feel his breathing becoming hurried.

Damn it. Foster Father Nac'Lare—Hades was certain he had touched Mortarion's sore spot.

But whether Hades said it or not, Mortarion would have to face this sooner or later.

No, he needed to smooth things over now! Otherwise, Mortarion would chop Hades into pieces sooner or later!

Hades once again shamelessly bowed to reality!

"I believe in you, and I hope you can kill Nac'Lare."

But—

"Then why did you say that?"

"I just wanted to know. Death, in your heart, which matters more: revenge, or the people of Barbarus?"

Mortarion wore a hood, and his breathing mask concealed most of his face, making his expression impossible to read.

But fine wrinkles had appeared around Mortarion's exposed eyes.

Hades knew it. He was hesitating.

Mortarion hesitated.

He knew it.

Hades sighed inwardly. It was destined to be this way. This was fate's cruel game, Mortarion's inner demon, the root of his corruption.

Among the twenty-one primarchs, Mortarion's corruption had begun the moment he landed on Barbarus.

Fuck, was Hades really going to have to flee the Death Guard himself someday, then watch helplessly as Mortarion and the Death Guard fell together?

Fuck.

"The people."

Mortarion added,

"My foster father, Nac'Lare, stripped me of everything and denied everything about me. He is the one I hate most."

"And the people of Barbarus."

"They accepted me when I had nothing. They gave my existence value and meaning. They entrusted themselves to me."

"They are the meaning of my existence."

"To resist all that is unjust."

Was that really true, Mortarion?

Deep within Mortarion's heart, a voice whispered.

We all have selfish desires. Would you truly abandon your revenge against that tyrant?

Hadn't you always sworn to kill him? Why had you betrayed the person you used to be?

Mortarion hesitated.

"No," he quietly told himself. "The people chose me. They entrusted themselves to me. I cannot be the first to betray them."

"I cannot become the next tyrant."

He cut off that voice in his heart.

If Hades could have heard Mortarion's inner monologue, his expression would probably have been quite spectacular.

First, there was definitely something wrong with that voice.

Second, it was the people who had "abandoned" Mortarion first!

This was an unsolvable problem.

After all, you couldn't expect humanity not to worship the Emperor.

Mortarion crouched down and gently lifted the young man from the ground. Then he stood again, scythe in one hand.

"Thank you for your question, Hades."

Mortarion looked at Hades, his gaze impossible to read.

He chose the people. From beginning to end, that was the only choice he made.

Hades stood there and returned Mortarion's gaze, but Mortarion could see no suspicion or malice in his eyes.

Only anxiety and concern.

Mortarion spoke.

"But you should not doubt me."

"You have changed a great deal these past few years."

"Go back to the base. Stop fighting xenos in the wilderness all the time."

Mortarion did not think Hades had stopped trusting him. Hades merely carried an added steadiness and maturity now; all the familiar traits Mortarion knew had not changed.

(Like making jokes at inappropriate times, and still loving to do bizarre things.)

The question Hades asked would never become reality. Such a choice would never arise in reality.

It served no purpose beyond tangling one's heart.

Perhaps Hades was worrying too much. Being alone in dangerous wilderness for so long truly could make the future seem bleak.

Unfortunately, because of Hades's constitution, everyone at the base disliked him.

He really should pay more attention to his friend—but after killing Nac'Lare.

.

Compared with Typhon, his loyal companion who often spoke bluntly and offered direct counsel, Hades was more like an unserious drinking buddy to Mortarion—

For instance, he often dragged Mortarion into long chats, though Mortarion himself was unfamiliar with this way of passing time.

.

The young man would wake soon. Mortarion had to bring him to a safe village before that happened.

Mortarion prepared to leave. He turned sideways toward Hades, signaling for Hades to end the conversation.

Hades, meanwhile, was a tiny, teeny, absolutely massive bit shocked.

Had Mortarion just been worried about him?!

Holy shit, big brother, you had a blade at my throat just now, you know!?

Then there was only one possibility—Hades had maxed out Mortarion's affection meter!

Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Hades wanted to toss away his scythe on the spot, throw his arms into the air, and shout, "I did it! I maxed out his affection meter!"

Back when he was still young, before Mortarion became the commander of the base—those persistent feedings, those experiences fighting together, those occasional deadpan jokes.

At last, they had maxed out Mortarion's affection meter.

Besides that, Hades also wanted to drop to his knees and pound the ground wildly while shouting, "Oh, fuck!"

—After all, in both his past life and this one, the number of people who cared about shut-in Hades could be counted on one hand!!!

Ahem. All of that came from the part of Hades's brain responsible for being unserious.

The part responsible for normal life was still thinking intensely.

Clearly, the conversation had ended. Hades did not know how far Mortarion had thought through his question.

But his initial objective had been achieved: to plant a warning in Mortarion's mind first.

What he did not know was whether Mortarion could grasp Hades's true intention on his own.

After all, the original story's plot of a hunky man falling from the sky really did exceed human imagination a little.

As for how Mortarion would ultimately choose?

That was beyond Hades's ability to influence.

Sigh. Other transmigrators either got cheat powers and massacred everyone, or received systems that let them activate every cheat imaginable.

Only Hades couldn't even think too much about the plot he knew. Usually, all he could do was cut down fodder enemies; by the setting, he couldn't beat a single named character.

Thank you, this goddamned Warhammer world.

Hades shrugged and slowly walked to the edge of the road.

"Goodbye, Death. I will. Once I finish up here, I'll return."

Mortarion nodded.

"Return north. The fighting in the south will end soon as well."

Hades scratched his head and laughed.

"Alright, I'll go back! I'll help you fight Nac'Lare!!!"

Hades stepped aside and watched as Mortarion left with Vokes.

.

Only when Mortarion reached the village's guarded perimeter did Hades's presence suddenly vanish behind him.

[In the Warp]

Nurglings gleefully hopped atop His flab. Great tumors of flesh, rotten and suppurating within, were the Nurglings' favorite playground.

At the farthest reaches of the endless garden, at the edge where flowers of flesh gradually withered and flies and bees of rotten grass no longer danced, in that distant place where both life and death found it too far away—

The shriek of a hoarse songbird suddenly rose, crossing time and space, slicing through life and death. Gales of endless change tore open, splitting the waves of eternal stagnation.

He raised His still-stirring spoon, swung His short arm, and waved toward that side. Thick cell fluid dripped reluctantly into the boiling cauldron of endless soup.

"Get lost! Get lost! He is mine!!! He is here with me!!"

The birdcall echoed unwillingly, lingering for a long time.

"Annoying fellow,"

He muttered.

Holy shit, Mortarion, please turn into a woman.

Oh, right. There would be no female lead in this story. I wasn't doing that Slaanesh nonsense.

Also, don't expect too much from this book, everyone. I'm a newbie (;Д｀) It's good that everyone cares so much about this book, but the author is panicking (;Д｀). At its core, the protagonist still has a bit of that overpowered chosen-one flavor, and this book differs somewhat from current mainstream Warhammer fanfiction. What proper Warhammer fic has a protagonist with comedic traits? _(:з"∠)_(pointing.jpg)