My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 527: Side Story: Sorry, But I'm Playing New Game+ (Part 2)
"Get in there and hide, you useless fool."
The towering Xenos Overlord grabbed the Primarch by his collar, dragging him into a dimly lit room. With a brutal kick, the Xenos sent the Primarch—already sluggish and numb from the toxic fog—stumbling into the space.
Slam! The door shut.
The Xenos had shown no mercy to his adoptive son. Mortarion coughed violently, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Gasping for air, he drew a dagger from his waist.
He leaned against the wall to steady himself, then scrambled to his feet and hurried to the door.
Mortarion gripped the dagger tightly. The Primarch lay flat on the floor, peering through the gap in the door to observe Necare's movements.
Necare seemed... irritable.
A chill crept down Mortarion's spine. Only now, seeing Necare's agitated figure, did he truly grasp how terrifying that monster was.
The battle reports from the automatons came in one after another. The front line Necare had spent so much time and effort fortifying was being sliced through with ease, as smooth as a knife through cooked fat.
Seven Psykers crowded around Necare, standing at the very center of the array he had drawn. Necare intended to use psionic power to slay the beast.
They were panicked, incessantly asking him what to do. Necare remained silent, his gaze fixed coldly on the ground.
Mortarion recognized that look. Necare was about to kill.
Necare spoke, commanding the Psykers to take their places within the array.
A realization struck Mortarion. The array's formation was not balanced. Necare intended to sacrifice those Psykers—to augment his own power!
At this, Mortarion felt a surge of fury, followed by the despair of a fire being extinguished by a bucket of cold water. No, no, no, no... He was already no match for Necare. If Necare used a forbidden spell to empower himself...
He would stand no chance!
I must stop the sacrifice!
Young Mortarion gritted his teeth, a bone-deep despair crawling like a spiderweb through his soul. The thought of what he would have to face next... Mortarion exhaled a heavy, ragged breath, his internal organs still aching where Necare had kicked him.
Just as Mortarion was weighing his next move, Necare acted! Arcs of electricity crackled at the fingertips of the towering Xenos, splitting in mid-air and striking the other seven Overlords!
"Thank you for your sacrifice."
The Xenos sneered, his voice chanting a long, droning incantation in praise of the God of Stagnant Life and Death.
Amidst a chorus of agonized wails and curses, Necare, standing at the very center of the altar, raised his arms. As the incantation progressed, the space around him began to warp, blurring the boundary between the physical world and Subspace.
Without a moment's hesitation, Mortarion threw his shoulder against the door, bursting through and charging straight toward the nearest sacrificed Overlord.
The ritual was incomplete. The Xenos, caught in Necare's scheme, was screaming hysterically. Mortarion seized the Xenos's hand, trying to drag him from the altar.
He had to disrupt the array first—its destruction would also backfire on Necare!
Seeing Mortarion approach, Necare, who stood at the array's center, let out a furious roar. It could not easily leave the array, but as it roared, the towering automata charged at Mortarion!
Sshhk! Mortarion retreated. The Xenos he had grabbed let out one final, piercing shriek as it was torn in half by the Primarch and the altar's immense force, blood erupting like a waterfall.
The ongoing ritual was interrupted by the sudden death of the sacrifice. Necare roared, a deafening sound, and pointed angrily at the Primarch, unleashing a violent arc of electricity that shot straight toward Mortarion.
Mortarion darted to the right! His lean frame slipped behind an automaton, and he plunged his blade into its lower back. The automaton, recoiling in pain, instinctively lurched to the left—right into the path of the electric python!
In a flash of blinding white light, the automaton froze in place, locked in a silent scream of agony.
Mortarion crouched low, slipping from the automaton's shadow. The very construct that had just subdued the Primarch now served as his best defense. A dark blur darted through the shoving crowd of automata, and in the gaps between flashes of light, Mortarion's figure—faster than lightning—burst forth! A short, sharp sonic boom cracked! The blade's tip shot straight for Necare's neck!
Hatred seethed in Mortarion's eyes. Necare's hideous face suddenly enlarged in the Primarch's pupils as he swung his blade—
Necare laughed in sheer fury, a blurred shadow flickering in Mortarion's peripheral vision!
Smack!
The outcome was decided. Mortarion's feet left the ground. The Primarch struggled desperately, his hands clawing at the withered hand clenched around his neck.
Necare held Mortarion by the throat, hoisting him off the floor.
Grinning, the Xenos strode to the sacrifice Mortarion had killed. He bent down, slamming Mortarion hard against the circle where the victim lay.
The blood and bone fragments of the half-mangled corpse soaked into Mortarion's back, his face crushed mercilessly into the ground.
Mortarion's pupils dilated. He saw with horror that the spatial distortion caused by the ritual had not receded; instead, it was intensifying. But Necare had already left the center of the altar?!
"I knew you would come, little brat. Why else do you think I left the door unlocked?"
Necare tightened his grip on Mortarion, his milky-white eyes filled with madness.
"Useless trash, make one last, insignificant contribution to my ritual!"
Necare began to chant again. As the incantation flowed, rotting plants sprouted around them. Mortarion let out a deathly rattle; he felt his soul being stained with some foul color—
No, no no no no! He clawed at the hand pinning him down, but it was like dead wood, gripping him with a numb, unyielding strength.
Mortarion's vision began to blur. Necare's blasphemous incantations buzzed in his ears. In his haze, the Primarch saw not the hideous figure of Necare before him, but... but...
Amidst a scene of vibrant life, that bloated, obese figure reached out a hand to him.
No! Mortarion felt his very soul screaming. No, no no no! He refused to accept this!!
The entity looked at him, its massive maw dripping with thick saliva as it worked.
"Shoo."
Mortarion snapped awake. He stared, as if roused from a nightmare, at Necare, who had begun to convulse before him. The hand that had been strangling him loosened, and Mortarion scrambled to free himself. In an instant, the Primarch saw the distorted space above the altar begin to settle, while Necare struggled to push himself upright.
Without a moment's hesitation—feeling a chill that seeped into his very marrow—Mortarion swung his dagger down toward Necare's neck. Even though he had just been on the brink of death, Mortarion's grip on the blade never wavered.
Faint arcs of psionic energy flared again, but they were extinguished almost instantly. The dagger in Mortarion's hand sank smoothly into his adoptive father's neck, just as it had in his nightly dreams. As he drove the blade down, the hideous head's eyes widened, staring fixedly at him. It whispered its final words into the air—
"Useless."
Then it lolled violently to the side.
Thud!
The head hit the ground.
Mortarion fell backward, collapsing into the pool of blood. He sat there, gasping for air, only then realizing he was drenched in a cold sweat. The viscous mixture of blood and sweat clung to his back, gluing his clothes to his skin.
His gaze instinctively fell upon the severed head lying in the gore. His adoptive father's head stared back at him, its eyes wide and unclosed, its final word still a curse.
A deafening ring filled Mortarion's ears. The silence was absolute, broken only by the thrumming of his own heartbeat and the roar in his head. The automata, which had been flailing wildly moments ago, now lay still. The wailing Overlords had been silenced in death. Even the gunfire from the battle outside had ceased.
Now, everything was quiet.
Mortarion stared blankly at Necare's head. For the young Primarch, everything that had just transpired felt like a dream. He had done it. He had actually done it. He had killed Necare!
The dream he had prayed for day and night, the dream he had sworn countless oaths to achieve—it had taken only fourteen seconds. Fourteen seconds, and it was all over!
At this moment, Mortarion could not even begin to process the truth he had just witnessed. He was drowning in the immense euphoria and disbelief of finally killing his adoptive father. He stared blankly at the severed head, which still glared back at him with the same hatred, as if time itself had frozen forever.
Until... until he heard the footsteps in the silence.
The monster... the monster was here.
Mortarion tried to scramble to his feet and flee, but he couldn't even stand. He knew the voice that had shattered the illusion came from that monster—a being he could never hope to defeat.
His breath came in ragged gasps. He was going to die. He was going to die—but he had no regrets!
Mortarion stared at Necare's head, listening to the rapidly approaching footsteps. His lips curled upward, and he began to laugh softly.
Then his laughter grew louder and louder, until it was deafening.
For the first time since he had gained consciousness, Mortarion laughed with such unrestrained abandon.
Necare was dead! This was enough!
Mortarion felt a warmth in his eyes as liquid streamed down his face.
The footsteps stopped.
A voice spoke up, hesitant.
"...Are you okay?"
Mortarion, who had been laughing, froze. He slowly turned his head to see what the monster looked like—it was bound to be something ten thousand times more nauseating than Necare.
But to his surprise, he saw a tall human staring at him in disbelief, his brow furrowed.
Hades stared at Mortarion, the cool opening line he'd prepared choking him halfway down his throat. He'd just beaten Nurgle to a pulp, snatched the god's spoon, and proceeded to devour Nurgle's soup right in front of Him, warning Him that there would be no "good juice" to drink next time. That was why Hades was a little late.
But a few seconds shouldn't have been enough to turn Mortarion into a fool, right? Why was this kid acting so weird?
Hades watched as the twisted laughter on Mortarion's face vanished in an instant, replaced by a blank expression.
"If you've come to kill me," Mortarion paused, his tone hardening, "then please, proceed."
In a millisecond, Hades abandoned the idea of raising his scythe to scare Mortarion.
"Why the hell would I kill you? You haven't even done anything wrong." Hades said, as he walked to Mortarion's side and hauled him up from the pool of blood. Mortarion stared at him in disbelief, completely dumbfounded.
Mortarion watched as Hades produced a roasted corn cob from nowhere.
Hades handed it to him. After a moment's hesitation, Mortarion took it.
The most absurd part was that the corn was still hot.
Mortarion began to question his very existence.
"Eat up," Hades said casually, as if this were just another ordinary day. "When you're finished, follow me down the mountain. We'll find a village and get some work."
Hades was worried. With his appetite and the Primarch's, if they didn't start farming, Barbarus would face a famine next year.
He had been surviving purely on the Warp-entity he'd found on Barbarus, and he was sick to death of eating them. He refused to touch those filths again!
Hades stared thoughtfully at Necare's severed head, scratching his chin.
"You can take a souvenir back with you, if you want."
Mortarion remained silent, clutching the corn cob in his hand. Finally, he couldn't help but open his mouth and ask,
"...Who exactly are you?"
And... Mortarion thought hesitantly, his gaze sweeping over Hades, whose height was clearly not that of an ordinary human. The Primarch realized that the giant before him was the first being he had ever encountered who shared his stature and kind...
Could it be... Mortarion stared at his adoptive father's head, and an absurd thought bubbled to the surface of the Primarch's mind.
Could it be... Could it be... Could it be...
Mortarion watched as Hades took a few steps back. The Primarch flinched in alarm, but then he saw Hades strike a contorted, dramatic pose.
"I'm Hades. Don't be jealous of me; I'm just a legend."
Striking a JoJo pose, Hades tossed his stylish short hair. "And you can call me—"
The handsome face of Neoth flashed before Hades's eyes. The Emperor was staring at him with a gentle, benevolent smile.
For the sake of the Primarch's mental health—and so he could screw over that annoying prick in the future without any psychological burden—Hades ultimately abandoned the "Daddy" plan. His voice took a sharp, hairpin turn.
"—Call me Big Brother."
Hades spoke, successfully seeing Mortarion's eyes fill with question marks.
But was that a flicker of disappointment in the Primarch's gaze?
"Oh," Mortarion said dryly.
.....
.....
.....
.....
.....
.....
.....
.....
.....
.....
Tn: I updated the story once every 2 days, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
Latest Chapter: Chapter 600: Hidden Agendas[1]
Link: https://www.patreon.com/Thatsnakegirl/posts/my-life-as-death-175001172?collection=602520[2]
[1] https://www.patreon.com/Thatsnakegirl/posts/my-life-as-death-175001172?collection=602520
[2] https://www.patreon.com/Thatsnakegirl/posts/my-life-as-death-175001172?collection=602520