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

Barbarus, Mount Morava, summit.

It had been seven years since their escape.

In those seven years, the small village of Heller Pass, located near the lords' territories, had long since fallen. The rebellion led by Mortarion had relocated to a new stronghold on the northern plains.

The rebellion, now known as the Death Guard, had grown steadily and methodically. At first, they were merely a force organized to resist nighttime raids. But as time passed, more and more villagers, inspired by their cause, joined their ranks. They quickly expanded the new stronghold into the largest human settlement in the region.

In addition to organizing passive defenses at night, the rebels began to take the initiative during the dim daylight hours, hunting down beasts and minor lords near human territories.

Now, with a large number of elite warriors, the Death Guard had even begun launching offensives against the lords.

Hades stood on a secluded mountain path, gripping his scythe. Beside him stood a fully armed woman holding a rifle.

The woman was covered head to toe in protective gear to shield herself from Barbarus's toxic fog, but her curvaceous figure and long black hair made her gender unmistakable.

A few strands of black hair hung down from the sides of her gas mask. She occasionally raised her rifle to fire, and with each shot, the brains of the fleeing puppets further down the path splattered.

Hades said nothing. He moved forward, his scythe flashing. The puppets that had been hit but were still staggering forward finally collapsed.

"The battle up there should be over soon."

Hades shrugged. The number of puppets fleeing down the path was dwindling, a sign that the battle between the rebels and Lord Delai was nearing its end.

"Another tyrant will soon answer for his past atrocities."

Hades turned around. Even through the gas mask, he could tell the woman was smiling—a smile for the impending victory.

Hades was momentarily stunned.

The black-haired woman was named Herera, Hades's combat partner.

Long ago, before they had relocated their stronghold, during a village defense battle, Hades had swung his scythe and decapitated a festering hound that had killed her father, saving her sister.

Since then, she was the only one willing to team up with Hades.

The only one.

Others always seemed reluctant to work with Hades. Some even harbored an inexplicable hatred toward him.

Hades had no idea why.

It wasn't that he was a bad fighter or a liability. His scythe skills were exceptional, and aside from being unable to defeat Mortarion, Hades was confident he was the best scythe wielder around.

The only issue was his inability to use guns or any slightly advanced technological weapons, which might have limited his combat effectiveness.

For some reason, these weapons always malfunctioned in Hades's hands.

After Hades broke the seventh high-quality rifle Mortarion had handed him, Mortarion, with a dark expression, gave him a decent scythe instead.

"Stick to close combat."

(It was due to his Pariah nature causing machine spirits to malfunction.)

But he was perfectly fine in close combat, so why didn't people want to fight alongside him?

Not only that, but others in the stronghold also avoided Hades, even though they fully welcomed and admired Mortarion.

Although Typhon, being a hybrid of alien and human, wasn't very popular either, Hades had it much worse!

To escape this inexplicable ostracism, Hades had to live in the most remote corner of the stronghold. Aside from Mortarion and Herera, hardly anyone sought him out.

Even Typhon stopped visiting him! And they were supposed to be the three leaders of the rebellion!

"Sorry, Hades, I just… can't stand the sight of you."

Was it because he was too sarcastic and had offended people? Or was he just naturally unlikable?

Hades admitted he had been slightly troubled by this for a while, but he quickly got over it.

Although he sometimes dreamed of leading the rebellion with Mortarion, becoming a high-ranking officer and guiding the people.

But to be honest, Hades wasn't the type to crave power or adoration.

He was just a shut-in who preferred to be alone, free to indulge in his hobbies.

So this arrangement was fine. No one bothered him, and since everyone disliked him, Mortarion couldn't assign him any managerial roles. He could just focus on his research, like improving his gas mask designs and sketching mechanical blueprints—even though machines always malfunctioned in his hands, his designs were solid.

During battles, he'd just find a secluded spot, grab his scythe, and mop up stragglers with Herera.

No intense combat, just leisurely slacking off.

When the battle was almost over, he could even chat with Herera a bit.

To this, Hades thought—

This is the life.

With no more monsters fleeing down the path, Hades walked back to Herera, planted his scythe in the ground, and leaned on it to chat.

"This battle ended pretty quickly. I thought Delai would be tougher."

"From the intel, he was supposed to be quite skilled in sorcery."

Sorcery users were always tough to deal with. They didn't have any sorcerers on their side—Typhon hadn't revealed his psyker abilities—so the rebels had to rely on brute physical force.

But with someone like Mortarion, who could one-shot enemies with his scythe, the battles became much easier.

It had to be said, without Mortarion, ordinary humans would struggle to match these psychic lords.

Even now, their battle strategy was still Mortarion taking on the elite enemies while the mortal rebels handled the grunts, providing support with ranged attacks and firepower.

Mortarion single-handedly changed the tide of battle.

Truly a Primarch.

"Victory will ultimately belong to humanity. We will win."

Seeing Hades relax, Herera also lowered her rifle and smiled at him.

"Last time we distributed supplies, my sister helped out and got us some extra cheese. I made some cheese pies. Want to come over later and have some?"

To be honest, Herera's cooking was… passable at best. Her dishes were only edible in the sense that they weren't poisonous.

Why not just give me the cheese, and I'll cook it for you? Stop wasting ingredients.

Hades wanted to cry, but he didn't dare say it out loud. Herera was one of his few friends, and he didn't want to ruin their relationship.

So every time, he tearfully choked down large amounts of "non-toxic" food.

Feeling Herera's eager gaze, Hades swallowed his complaints.

"Sure, I like everything you make. That mushroom soup last time was pretty good too."

Good?! That thing had a layer of purple mystery liquid floating on top!

"Great. My sister left a lot of cheese pies. I'll pack them up for you."

"You always seem to enjoy my cooking, so I'm happy to make more for you."

Herera shyly lowered her head, her fingers lightly tracing circles on the rifle stock.

"When Lord Mortarion overthrows all the tyrants, and when supplies are no longer rationed, I'll open a restaurant."

"I'll be the chef. Hades, would you like to help me out?"

At this point, Hades didn't pick up on the subtext. His inner critic was burning brightly.

Girl, with your cooking skills, I should be the head chef, right?

And don't raise death flags like that! It's bad luck!

As if responding to Herera's death flag, the temperature around them suddenly plummeted. Puddles on the muddy ground began to freeze, and a layer of frost quickly spread across the ground.

Further up the path, the space began to distort. A blood- and bone-covered claw emerged from the void.

In an instant, a monstrous creature, the size of a small car and covered in wounds, appeared before them. Its basketball-sized eyes locked onto Hades and Herera, and a foul stench emanated from its gaping maw.

Damn it, it's a psychic teleportation!!!

Hades could feel Herera's body stiffen beside him.

"Herera."

Hades whispered.

"I'll hold it off. You run up the path and find Mortarion. Tell him Delai escaped down this way."

Hades raised his scythe into a fighting stance.

"Don't worry about me. I'll just stall for a bit, then I'll run too."

"Go report this, or we're all dead."

Below them were the other rebels. Hades was certain that if he let Delai get past him, it would be a one-sided massacre.

He planned to stall for a while. If he was lucky, Mortarion would arrive in time.

—If not, he'd buy as much time as possible, then fake his death or jump off a cliff to escape.

But this would likely worsen his already poor relationships.

Mortarion, you'd better hurry. Don't make me fake my death. That'd be so embarrassing.

The cornered monster roared and lunged at Hades, its grotesquely thick claws slashing toward his head!!!

Hades shouted, raising his scythe to block the claws. The impact sent a numbing shock through his arms, and sparks flew as the reinforced steel scythe shaft ground against the claws!!!

"Run, Herera!"

"RUN!!!"

____________________

Here's a Barbarus girl for you.