My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 526: Side Story: Sorry, But I'm Playing New Game+ (Part 1)
Content Warning:
Schrödinger's connection to the main plot
Character OOC (Out of Character)
Pure power fantasy
. . .
[ Barbarus ]
Across the vast, desolate wastes, a fog hung eternally, obscuring the horizon and erasing all sense of direction.
The ashen mist swirled, radiating outward from the scattered human settlements. The deeper one ventured, the thicker the poisonous haze grew, draping the jagged vegetation in a shroud of deathly white. Occasionally, towering, grotesque creatures would materialize from the fog, only to vanish back into the white void in a flicker.
The people of Barbarus never ventured into the mist lightly. Generations born to this land knew it as a forbidden zone, a place where human life was extinguished. Even the strongest youths of the villages dared only to explore the wastes in groups, during the day, and while wearing the most airtight respirators.
Or so it should have been, until—
A man working in the fields paused and looked up, as if sensing something. He scanned the distant wastes, but found nothing.
Following his gaze, through the rolling white fog and past the withered branches, deep within a dense thicket, a few twigs trembled slightly...
—And from within, the sound of peaceful snoring drifted out.
A small black speck drifted across the sky. As if it had spotted something, the speck circled in the air, growing larger and larger. The Carrion Vulture, wings spread wide, lowered its neck and fixed its gaze on a splash of unusual color amidst the trees.
It had glimpsed a human.
A lone human on the wasteland was a staple of its diet. The Carrion Vulture narrowed its eyes, tucked its wings, and plummeted straight down toward its prey—
"Screech!!!"
The piercing shriek tore through the surrounding silence. The creatures nesting in the trees were startled into a frantic flight, and the once-quiet field suddenly erupted into chaos.
But the initial shriek had already vanished.
"...What the hell?"
Hades sat up, completely bewildered. As he rose, the branches of the trees smacked him right in the face. He looked around in a daze, his right hand still clutching a crushed chick.
He remembered dying a peaceful death. How was he still alive the moment he opened his eyes?
Hades's mind was a whirlwind of questions, but his body reacted before his brain could. He stood up and took a deep, deep breath.
The familiar, sweet scent instantly snapped Hades awake. He drew in deep breaths of the poisonous mist as he retrieved his scythe and spear from the underbrush.
Stepping out from the foliage, Hades beheld the familiar landscape of Barbarus.
The presence of the Underworld assured him this was no Warp-born illusion. After all, he and the Emperor had long ago beaten every Warp entity they disliked into submission. What minor demon would dare try to deceive him with a phantasm?
Staring at his surroundings, Hades realized one thing—
He had been reborn.
But the heavens had not stripped him of the experience and divine gear he had painstakingly earned.
After confirming this several times and taking a furtive glance at the local villagers, Hades solidified his conclusion: he had been reborn, and he had returned to the very days when he first arrived on Barbarus.
But this time, Barbarus would not be welcoming a Level Zero Hades. Instead, it would face a Max-Level Lord of the Underworld.
The smile on Hades's lips grew ever more unrestrained.
Nurgle~
. . .
A Superman appeared on Barbarus.
At first, the two-story-tall Giant appeared not far from the village. The bewildered people hastily set up defenses and hid in their homes in terror.
But the Giant merely stood at the edge of the farmland, glancing from a distance at the panicked villagers. After breaking off an ear of white corn, he walked straight away.
The people who saw the Giant leave breathed a sigh of relief, but the very next night, they witnessed a true nightmare.
Across the fog-shrouded wilderness, wild and unbridled laughter rang out, mingling with the shrieks and screams of countless monsters.
Pale Laughter and Scavengers fled in panic from the village toward the distance. But the Giant emerging from the fog pointed from afar at those creatures, and the monsters collapsed instantly, like soulless puppets.
At the same time, everyone cowering in their homes felt a bone-chilling sense of helplessness.
The next day, when the sun rose again, the bolder young men went out to investigate. They witnessed an unbelievable sight.
The monsters, once regarded by the people as murderous beasts, lay dead in heaps across the wilderness. Some had no external injuries, while others had been brutally torn apart. They even found human-like teeth marks on some of the monsters' corpses.
The Giant had killed the monsters.
The news spread like wildfire, keeping pace with the Giant's thunderous strides.
He seemed to be systematically purging the man-eating beasts, leaving countless monsters to fall in agonized shrieks across the wasteland. Every few dozen steps, a new pile of bones marked his path.
He even stormed the Overlord's Stronghold near the village, twisting the head off a Xenos Overlord amidst the terrifying glare of its psionic white light.
For most of the native creatures on Barbarus, their true nightmare had arrived.
But for the humans, they discovered with delight that the Giant seemed to harbor them no ill will. Whenever he passed through a village, he would merely pluck a single piece of fruit from a crop, never harming a soul or damaging a home.
Gradually, the bold began to approach him.
Those who sought the Giant returned, breathless and awestruck, their words stumbling. They described him standing in the dense fog, unmasked. His face bore none of the dull-wittedness common to other Giants; instead, it was as hard-carved as stone, handsome and imposing, his crimson mechanical eye radiating a lethal aura.
The Giant said his name was Hades.
Hades treated humans with kindness. When someone tried to invite him to visit their village, Hades—seated atop a pile of Xenos bones and leaning against his scythe—merely waved them off.
"Let me plow the fields first."
He said casually, tossing a whole cob of white corn—husk and all—given to him by the villagers into his mouth.
Plow the fields?
The farming folk of Barbarus exchanged bewildered glances. They had never imagined the word "plowing" could be used in this context.
He claims to be plowing the fields!
And Hades was indeed doing exactly that. Starting from the lowest, most desolate plains of Barbarus, he marched toward the highlands. The Lord of the Underworld's scythe meticulously scraped every inch of soil.
In the wake of the Lord of the Underworld's advance, a great biological migration was underway across Barbarus. Led by the Xenos Overlord who had fled his own territory, countless creatures—all designated as "extermination targets" by the Lord of the Underworld—were fleeing relentlessly into the distance.
They didn't even dare stop to rest or feed, for the monster pursuing them needed no such respite!
That grotesque, nightmarish laughter clung to them like a deathly grip!
The creatures fled toward the highlands, praying that Necare, the true master of Barbarus, would grant them sanctuary.
Necare, the Xenos Overlord, dwelt upon the highest peaks of Barbarus, wielding the most potent sorcery and commanding a vast army of puppets and minions.
No matter how strong that Giant was—he stood no chance against the combined might of all the monsters of Barbarus and Necare himself!
. . .
A cacophony of noise erupted outside the pitch-black dwelling.
Inside, Mortarion sat in silence, wrapping a bandage around his arm as if he were deaf to the commotion.
Just another bunch of desperate souls coming to pay their respects.
A monster had descended upon Barbarus.
A cryptic glint flickered in Mortarion's brownish-yellow eyes. For a week now, countless Overlords and monsters fleeing from the south had sought refuge with his adoptive father, Necare. They knelt in trembling submission, eager to pledge their loyalty to their former arch-enemy, Necare, just for the chance to be taken in—to be granted a path to survival.
Just to... live.
Mortarion sneered at such desperation.
But what he truly detested was seeing Necare's army swell with every new arrival.
Mortarion wished to kill his adoptive father, he was naturally displeased to see Necare's power grow.
The Primarch finished tying the bandage on his arm, then touched the dagger hidden at his waist.
He rose to his feet, lowered his head, and obediently followed the puppets waiting for him.
The monster was closing in on Necare's territory. Mortarion climbed into the transport as the convoy began its slow ascent toward the mountain peak. His adoptive father had stationed the bulk of his army halfway up the mountain, while he and a few powerful psionic Overlords waited in the fortress at the summit, hoping the poisonous mist would weaken the beast.
At the same time, Necare had decided to bring Mortarion—who had been imprisoned on the mountainside—up to the peak. The Xenos Overlord didn't want to waste a valuable pawn too early.
Sitting cross-legged in the jolting transport, Mortarion remained silent. The poisonous mist in Necare's fortress was not very dense; he could move and fight freely within it.
This is...
Mortarion lowered his head and touched the dagger at his waist again, a resolute glint flashing in his eyes.
This is his chance to kill Necare.
If the monster reached this place, Mortarion thought, the Primarch knew instinctively that Necare stood no chance against it.
If the monster arrived—it would kill both Necare and him. Mortarion thought.
The Primarch accepted his impending death with a strange calm. He might try to escape, but only after he killed Necare.
Mortarion would kill Necare, then the monster would arrive and kill him.
Or Necare would kill him. But Mortarion believed that by challenging Necare and wounding him, he would be helping the monster kill his adoptive father.
Either way, Mortarion would be one step closer to his ultimate goal—Necare's death.
...He hoped he could kill Necare, Mortarion thought silently, but the Primarch also found it laughable. Still in his youth, the immature Primarch seemed completely incapable of fighting the Xenos sorcerer.
He was still too young.
But regardless, Mortarion knew his life would remain at this stage.
He only hoped... A flicker of hatred flashed in Mortarion's eyes. He only hoped that Necare would die.
. . .
Hades narrowed his eyes, gazing up at the highest peak of Barbarus. A dense army of greyish figures prowled through the mountains.
He released a low-concentration Black Domain—Oh, Mortarion is at the summit.
No, I shouldn't call him the Mortarion anymore. I'll switch to Morty.
Hades pondered. The Primarch didn't seem to be in any immediate mortal danger. If he climbed the mountain at full speed... he could reach the summit in about fifteen minutes.
Hades fell silent for a moment. He could actually summon the Underworld and end the game right then and there, bypassing the Primarch entirely.
However, based on what Hades knew of Mortarion, this big guy was absolutely rebellious. He was probably thinking about how to kill his adoptive father right now.
Hades considered his options. The Lord of the Underworld wouldn't be as stubborn as the Emperor, strangling the Primarch's chances in the cradle. Hades strode out of his hiding spot, his mind made up on his strategy.
His strategy? A speedrun.
With a confident flick of his hair, Hades smoothed it back with his hand. A cool, arrogant smile touched his lips. This is the joy of a max-level player slaughtering a starter village—pure, unadulterated self-indulgence.
Mortarion, your dear brother is here to save you.
Watch me go on a rampage.