Sky-Reaching Mountain Road

Chapter 32 31. Sky-Piercing Mountain Road

Barbarus, northern mountains, territory of the Alien Lord Nac'Lare, Sky-Piercing Mountain Road.

Now.

.

Upward, upward, upward.

The poisonous fog grew thicker and thicker. With each step upward, they could feel the toxic fumes tearing at their armor.

Visibly, the anti-corrosion layer on the armor instantly peeled away, revealing the gleaming metal beneath.

But as soon as the metal was exposed, patches of rust began to spread and creep across it.

Some of the Death Guard's armor had sustained deep wounds in previous battles. Through these wounds, the innermost layer of cotton cloth was now clearly visible. Black and yellow stained the cotton, and the once-thick material was now as thin as paper, seemingly ready to tear at the slightest touch.

They were now nearing the summit. Since the barrage of artillery fire, Mortarion and his company had encountered little resistance. Occasionally, a few isolated high-level puppets would use the terrain to ambush them, but Mortarion dispatched them all in an instant.

It seemed that the Alien Lord Nac'Lare, cut off from supplies and besieged in a war of attrition, had reached the end of its rope.

.

But more than the enemy, the poisonous fumes of Barbarus itself seemed to be a greater challenge to the group.

Hazniel was the first to succumb.

The toxic fumes seeped in through a large wound in his leg. It was hard to imagine, but the skin on his leg was now sloughing off, revealing corroded, pale muscles.

Heavy, labored breathing came from within his armor, clearly suppressing pain and forbearance.

Mortarion spoke, "Murnau, take Hazniel back down the mountain and rendezvous with Mozar and the others."

Murnau looked up at Mortarion. Hades sensed that he clearly wanted to say something, but Murnau's increasingly sluggish movements had already betrayed his difficulties.

"Yes."

Murnau supported Hazniel, who was clearly unwilling but had been rendered powerless by the toxic fumes. The two turned and limped back down the mountain.

.

But further up, the toxic fumes only intensified.

Calas Typhon felt his breathing become labored. His respirator was running at full power, the buzzing sound indicating that it was on the verge of failure.

He picked up his gun and found that the connection between the handle and the body was visibly cracked.

The breathing tubes began to melt, and they fell into the layers of his armor.

The remaining Death Guard were also reaching their limits.

Their movements grew slower, their breathing heavier and more labored. Beneath their armor, they were likely pale-faced, yet still struggling to persevere.

"Calas Typhon, take the remaining Death Guard and retreat."

Mortarion's voice, filled with forbearance and suppression, rang out.

Even wearing the finest armor, even as a Primarch, the toxic fumes here were not to be underestimated.

Calas Typhon knew that they had reached their limits. Any further, and they would be beyond the point of no return.

But... could Mortarion really kill the Alien Lord Nac'Lare and retreat successfully?

"Mortarion... you're still going to climb higher?"

"Yes."

Mortarion gritted his teeth. He had to kill his father with his own hands. He had come this far.

His father was mocking him, blatantly. In areas with high concentrations of toxic fumes, it had not even placed defenses—

It was mocking Mortarion for not daring to climb any higher, mocking him for not being able to kill it.

The die was cast, the arrow was on the string, there was no turning back!

Today, Nac'Lare, only one of us will survive!

Calas Typhon felt something pass him, moving towards Mortarion higher up.

Calas Typhon suddenly paused. Was that Hades?!

"Hades, Hades, are you going to keep climbing with Mortarion?!"

"Yes."

Hades was not in a good state either. Even though both it and Mortarion's armor had a second layer of skin sewn by the Alien Lord, it could feel that this material was slowly melting under the corrosion of the toxic fumes.

It did not have much time left.

Moreover, Hades's armor did not have a breathing circulation system, which greatly hindered its breathing.

But Hades could still persevere.

It was not yet time to fall.

It could still continue upward.

Like hearing something unbelievable, Calas Typhon shook his head, but he said nothing. He led the remaining Death Guard down the mountain.

Before descending, he turned back, gazing deeply at Hades and Mortarion.

It was as if he wanted to permanently remember their figures, or perhaps he was mourning the dying spirits in advance.

Mortarion's tall figure gradually receded into the mist, and along with him, an uncomfortable aura also faded away.

The summit was right before them.

The two silently climbing continued upwards.

"Can you manage?"

Mortarion's voice sounded again.

"Let's make this quick."

Hades' wry voice came over.

Clearly, even with the Alien Lord leather stitched lining, this fully enclosed armor couldn't function normally for long in the toxic gases at the summit.

Once the armor stopped working, even a Primarch wouldn't be able to maintain consciousness in this environment with just their superior physique.

"Just as I thought."

Mortarion turned back, glancing in Hades' direction. As long as Hades could help him weaken his foster father's Psychic Power, Mortarion was confident he could take his foster father's head.

"And, thank you."

Hades was taken aback for a moment.

"It's nothing. I know the feeling – fighting alone really sucks."

Hades had once fought alone in the south.

In many critical moments, having a comrade would indeed make things much easier.

He hoped he could suppress the Alien Lord Nac'Lare's sorcerous Psychic Power.

The summit, reached.

It was a flat area about the size of a basketball court, as if an axe had chopped off the top of the mountain.

That tall, eerie figure stood there quietly, toxic gases swirling around it, a long, tattered cloak draped over its shoulders, moving without wind.

In fact, Mortarion's foster father, Nac'Lare, looked much closer to human than those strangely shaped aliens.

This humanoid figure was taller than Mortarion, and even more muscular, like a giant.

It wore a simple, combat-style outfit, upon which countless fine threads stitched intricate sacrificial images and incantations.

Its deep gray-white skin was directly exposed to the toxic gases, yet showed no signs of corrosion, as if it shared the same origin as the toxins.

Its eyes, sunken deep in their sockets, were covered in pallid, yellow-red thick blood vessels that crawled all over the eyeballs.

Ominous and oppressive black-green Psychic Power lightning flickered around it.

In its pale, massive hand, it held a giant scythe – Oblivion, whose alien technology gave it a bizarre bronze-purple hue.

Nac'Lare hadn't waited in its fortress at a lower altitude, but instead stood alone on the summit.

The moment it saw Mortarion, it let out a contemptuous sneer.

"Finally here, my weak son."

In a flash, Mortarion gripped his scythe and charged forward.

Enjoy your reading～(￣▽￣～)~