My Life as A Death Guard

The Endurance, Hallway

Now.

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After finishing a day’s training, Hades is now walking quietly down the gray-green corridor, his heavy footsteps echoing dully in the narrow space.

Usually, a few veterans would jostle him back to the rest area, but today, Hades had chosen to end training early.

He wanted some quiet time to think over recent observations.

Using the excuse of needing to go to the third archives, he left early.

First, Hades was certain: he had been “chosen.”

Even though the decision-maker hadn’t appeared, Hades could tell from the increasing number of veterans gathering around him over the last few months.

While some veterans seemed to just want to give him a beating, others looked at him with a complex gaze.

After he took them down and exchanged a few words, they’d even show a hint of approval.

But when Hades tried to question them, they’d put on a “I don’t know anything” expression, leaving Hades awkwardly feigning ignorance with a polite smile.

Hades was speechless.

These veterans were terrible at pretending.

Compared to the taciturn, hard-to-read officers, these battle-hardened veterans were fairly straightforward.

Most of the suggestive veterans were friendly; Hades mentally grouped them into the mild or neutral factions.

Those who attacked without a word? Almost certainly radicals.

Hades touched his nose; they also hit the hardest.

After months of mingling, Hades had finally grasped the veterans’ factions and mindsets.

Most of them were still neutral — loyal as long as Mortarion led effectively and kept them fighting for the Imperium.

Some were in the mild faction — neutral members who’d sided with Mortarion, or those compelled by the natural bond between the Primarch and his sons.

The radicals, smallest in number, were ready to die in the next battle.

It was clear someone had orchestrated his contact with these Terra-born veterans.

And someone else had arranged for Vorx to engage with the Barbarus-born in other units.

Initially, Hades thought Garro was responsible, but after learning about some Seventh Company history, he realized Garro wouldn’t act so overtly.

Someone else was behind Garro.

But that was beyond Hades’s reach for now.

The motive was probably simple enough, though — Hades knew what he was after.

He was investing.

Hades resisted the urge to frown; if this was true, he’d need to see Mortarion again.

He’d been so focused on training, he hadn’t checked in with Mortarion.

Another source of unease for Hades was that, since the outburst in the dueling cage, all information about the Librarius had been completely sealed.

Not a single rumor leaked out.

And Hades’s usual routine didn’t overlap with the Librarius or First Company where Calas Typhon was, making it impossible to gather intel.

No, he needed to see Mortarion.

But it couldn’t be now.

Hades knew that whoever was backing him was also watching his every move.

He’d have to stick to his usual routine for a while longer.

After some time, if Hades met their standards, they’d probably approach him directly.

With the enemy hidden and him in the open, Hades didn’t want to tip them off by going to Mortarion too soon.

He was waiting.

If they took the bait, Hades had a hunch he could save some of the Terra-born.

Weighing the pros and cons, Hades chose to wait.

It was still the Great Crusade; not all of the twenty-one Primarchs had been found, and the Legion’s corruption by Chaos hadn’t started.

Plus, Mortarion’s intense hatred for psykers and his keen vigilance gave Hades hope that Mortarion wouldn’t stumble just yet.

Mortarion, I believe in you. Don’t act recklessly!

However, for now, half of the Legion’s control still lies with First Company Captain Barasine. Hades is confident that even if Mortarion occasionally behaves unpredictably, Barasine will surely stay level-headed.

As for the Librarius, Hades indeed has no way to get involved in this area for now. He can’t exactly run over to them, shouting, “Let me help you!”

Especially after he beat up a member of the Librarius; they’d definitely think he’s just looking for trouble.

Would the Death Guard really abolish the Librarius in the future?

An overwhelming sense of helplessness weighed down on Hades.

Looks like he would have to talk this over with Mortarion eventually as well.

Just then, a ticking sound interrupted Hades’s thoughts.

Across the empty hallway, a Tech-Priest slowly approached him.

Draped in a crimson robe that hunched over a back so bent it looked like it would snap, the Tech-Priest’s cable-wrapped mechanical legs emerged from beneath the robe, adjusting their pace as he slowly shuffled through the corridor.

Hmm?

A Tech-Priest from the Martian transport ship? Alone?

This path could indeed lead to the forge, but it was quite a complex, winding route.

Lost? Can Tech-Priests even get lost?

The distance between them grew shorter and shorter—

Hades kept his pace steady and passed by the Tech-Priest quickly.

The ticking sound gradually faded away.

Maybe I was overthinking.

Keeping his direction, Hades decided to hurry to the third archives to return a book.

He held The Ursian Chronicle in his hands, which he’d borrowed a few months back and still hadn’t returned.

Not his fault—he’d been getting beaten up every day lately, which naturally slowed down his reading pace.

The Ursian Chronicle records the history of the Caucasus region on Terra: the rise of warlords, the formation of local councils, wars, power struggles, and—

Witchcraft.

The book contains numerous cases of psykers using sorcery.

Howling tribal shamans, blood-drenched rituals, shamans tearing open their bodies as unholy beings crawled from their brains—

The book describes these wicked, sacrilegious practices with graphic and exaggerated detail.

Hades still remembers the first time he read the descriptions of sorcery; he’d gawked at the pages, stunned.

This is Chaos, isn’t it?!!

That’s a Daemon, right? What the—!!

As a transmigrant, Hades knew unmistakably that this was a depiction of Chaos from the Warp.

And that historian—he recommended this book to him?

Hades’s scalp tingled.

Even though half of his head technically lacks a scalp.

Suddenly, Hades recalled his conversation with that historian. When he recommended this book, he’d said,

“Although this is a history book, you can read it as a novel. We historians scoff at the fantastical elements within.”

Initially, Hades thought he meant the heroic, mythic exaggerations. Turns out he was referring to psychic phenomena, huh?!

Hades quickened his steps toward the third archives.

Sure enough, the historian wasn’t there.

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An:

Happy reading! (≧▽≦)

Oh, and this is the same Ursian Chronicle that Loken read in the original story!