Warhammer: I Don't Want to Become a Stinky Can!!!

Heller Pass, outside Hades's dilapidated house.

Early morning on the second day after their escape.

Hades stood at the door, trying to figure out how to start a conversation without being misunderstood.

With Mortarion's peculiar personality, one wrong word could lead to a decade-long grudge.

This reminded Hades of his old, petty boss, whose logic was so twisted that even a simple statement like "The printer's out of paper" could be interpreted as Hades insulting him.

Why is it that other transmigrators get to fight monsters and level up, while I'm stuck figuring out how to make small talk?

Well, when you're under someone else's roof, you have to lower your head.

Hades's Chatting 101 class is now in session!

He knew Mortarion probably wanted to talk about something. All Hades needed to do was ask a few simple questions and let the other person monologue.

"Will those lords come down?"

"They will… Those bastards, their pathetic lives revolve around their so-called authority."

"And now, the lowborn livestock, the trash in their eyes, have trampled on their pride. They won't let this go."

Mortarion gritted his teeth, looking as if he wanted to grab his blade and chop off the lords' heads right then and there.

"Are you planning to face them alone?"

"…"

"The fire of oppression burns in the hearts of every slave…"

"…If given time, I will ignite the flames of rebellion in everyone's hearts. We will overthrow these tyrants. Victory belongs to humanity."

Hades shrugged.

"You'll have time."

But… when you finally face your foster father, time will be running out.

"Not necessarily," Mortarion said, his gaze fixed on the mountains. "My foster father might come for revenge now, but I'm not sure. He's cunning and won't act rashly."

In reality, if Mortarion's alien foster father, Necare, decided to seek immediate revenge, this small village would be instantly reduced to rubble by a barrage of artillery fire.

Mortarion knew his foster father well. Necare never took risks. When he fought other lords, unless he was toying with Mortarion by throwing him onto the battlefield, Necare would usually start with a saturation bombardment, then use sorcery to drive hordes of puppets to wear down the enemy.

He rarely entered the battlefield himself, even though Necare was the strongest sorcerer on the planet.

"So you're waiting for him now? You're afraid he'll attack the village?"

"…Yes."

"I'm waiting for his revenge. I'm the one who betrayed him, not you."

"If he comes for revenge, it should be me, not you."

Uh… is there a possibility, Hades thought nervously, that as slaves who were about to be harvested, we also blew up his truck and ran away?

"But we escaped too, didn't we?"

Mortarion glanced down at Hades.

Well, Mortarion was too tall, and Hades was too short.

"He wouldn't care about the lowborn…"

But he might very well slaughter these villagers in front of Mortarion just to humiliate him.

Perhaps he should leave.

But what if he left and his foster father attacked the village?

Hades looked at Mortarion, feeling a bit mocked. Indeed, as a human, would you remember how many bread rolls you've eaten?

Of course, he knew Mortarion's concerns were valid. If Hades hadn't read the script, he'd be worried about the lords attacking too.

But they didn't.

Actually, this was quite suspicious. It was as if someone had deliberately arranged for Mortarion to experience human life. And not to mention, in the original story, it was the psyker Typhon who rescued Mortarion.

In fact… this whole thing might be…

Stop!

Hades slammed on the brakes. He couldn't think too deeply about this. He didn't want to attract attention.

Better to end the conversation. It seemed Mortarion would be standing here for a few more days, and Hades wasn't planning to persuade him otherwise.

"Uh… the bandage on my left arm, did you rewrap it, or was it Typhon?"

"I did. Your arm was festering. If it hadn't been bandaged, you might have needed an amputation."

"Ah, thanks, haha."

"Don't be so serious. Since we've escaped, let's eat something good tonight to celebrate!"

Hades had wanted to pat Mortarion on the back like a good buddy to boost favorability, but then he tragically realized he only came up to Mortarion's waist.

And he was a seven-year-old kid.

Damn it, you're tall, so you're amazing!

I want to grow taller!

Hades secretly vowed to grow to 2.1 meters, then undergo Astartes augmentation to reach 3 meters.

But to be honest, Mortarion was one of the tallest among the Primarchs. Even if Hades reached 3 meters, he'd still be a shorty in Mortarion's eyes.

Is this the harsh reality of Warhammer?

Hades awkwardly stopped himself from instinctively patting Mortarion and instead rubbed his hands together.

"Well, I'll head out now. I'll go get some food. You keep standing guard."

On the way back, he had seen a fresh horse carcass lying in the field, probably one that had fled during the Pale Laughter's attack on the stables.

It had looked freshly dead at the time. After sitting overnight, it could still be eaten if he cut it up properly!

Triggering the farming and cooking passive!

If he didn't hurry, it'd be gone. With that in mind, Hades bid Mortarion a quick farewell and dashed off with his dagger.

Mortarion stood still, staring blankly at Hades's retreating figure.

What did "thanks" mean?

And why was he so focused on eating?

That night, Mortarion truly understood.

Hades watched the two of them devouring horse meat skewers by the fire and thought, this is just the beginning! If he had more seasoning, he could truly unleash his culinary skills!

From the moment Hades started skewering the meat and lighting the fire, Typhon had been circling around him. After answering "Yes, you can eat it" at least a dozen times, Typhon finally stopped pacing and plopped down next to Hades, staring intently at the skewers.

Hmm, kind of like the golden retriever Hades used to have, wagging its tail furiously whenever he cooked.

As for Mortarion, who had been standing guard at the door, he had long lost his composure upon smelling the roasted meat. But he remained steadfast, reminding himself that he was a warrior, a weapon, and must always be prepared.

Then Hades's words—

"It's just evening now. If the lords are going to attack, they'll probably do it at dawn. Why not eat something now to conserve energy?"

—convinced him to join.

A wise choice, Mortarion thought as he silently grabbed another skewer.

He had never known that eating could be so enjoyable. In the past, most of his meals consisted of the corpses of enemies he had killed. Sometimes, his foster father would toss him some hard, moldy bread.

But after tasting these crispy-on-the-outside, tender-on-the-inside, aromatic skewers, Mortarion finally understood why Hades was so passionate about "eating."

He'd have to find ways to make Hades cook more often.

After his fifty-second delicious skewer, Mortarion firmly decided this.

As for Hades?

He watched Mortarion, whose eyes were glowing as he silently devoured the skewers, and couldn't help but think—

Bro, slow down. You've already eaten half a horse.

Can a Primarch even get full?

For a long time afterward, Hades remained puzzled by this question.

But for now… of course…

Hurry up and grab some! If you don't, the skewers will be gone!

At the end of the meal, Hades looked at Mortarion with shining eyes.

"Mortarion, let's lead a rebellion. I think you can do it."

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Compared to the later, more deified depictions of the Primarchs, the early portrayals often highlight their very human sides.

Actually, aside from the protagonist, all the other characters are quite serious. Really.