Chapter 10: Time for Your Medicine, Elder Brother

Mortarion was seething with rage.

What should have been a flawless extermination campaign was marred by his underestimation. The lord had used psychic teleportation to escape.

Damn it all. Psychic teleportation was an esoteric and advanced sorcery. Mortarion hadn't expected the lord of Barbarus to possess such a skill.

Even his foster father, the mightiest sorcerer on Barbarus, couldn't perform psychic teleportation. Yet this xenos sorcerer could?

It was his oversight. He hadn't anticipated this sudden teleportation, allowing the otherwise cornered Lazarus to slip from his grasp.

Standing amidst the wreckage of his battle with Lord Lazarus, Mortarion pondered furiously where the cunning foe might have teleported to. He realized the less experienced Death Guard rebels below might be his target.

Damn it!

Cursing internally, he swiftly commanded the rebel forces on the mountain to descend the main path.

However, a rebel guarding a side path suddenly approached, informing him that Lazarus had teleported onto this very path.

How could this be? Why would the cunning Lord Lazarus teleport there? It wasn't a particularly defensible position and wasn't far from Mortarion's location.

What was Lazarus doing there? Was his sorcery limited to such short-range teleportation?

Or was this rebel under the xenos' sorcerous control, trying to deceive him?

Mortarion glanced at Herilla. He recognized her, the only girl willing to team up with his friend Hades.

Tears nearly filled her eyes. Her frantic running had left her gasping for breath, and it was evident her respirator couldn't handle the strain. She seemed to have inhaled some toxic fumes.

Yet, she bore no taint of sorcerous corruption.

It seemed likely she spoke the truth.

Mortarion ordered Typhon to continue leading the elite forces down the main path, while he followed Herilla down the side path.

If what Herilla said was true...

Then there was a high chance that Hades...

Mortarion suppressed his anxious thoughts, choosing to trust his friend.

But he found himself running faster and faster—

—Then they saw it. Hades, leaping through the air, his scythe tracing a full moon's arc, decapitating the grotesque head of the xenos lord.

What?!

Mortarion's eyes widened in disbelief.

Blood and the severed head spun in the air. The xenos' body burst, spraying blood everywhere. Hades landed precisely in the center of this blood fountain, covered in blood—both his own and the xenos'.

The scene resembled a child's crayon drawing, but with blood instead of wax.

Hades stood at the center, like a farmer who had just finished reaping his harvest, his scythe dripping with the blood of his enemies.

Noticing the two of them, Hades turned, offering a weak smile through his gas mask.

For a moment, the dim light of Barbarus seemed to gather around Hades.

Then, his form began to sway, and he slowly collapsed.

Simultaneously, a voice filled with exaggerated agony began to wail, "Ahhhhhh! It hurts! Help! I'm dying! Help meeeee!"

Mortarion would bet anything that the voice's owner was neither dying nor even seriously hurt.

Such an annoying fellow.

Despite these thoughts, Mortarion and Herilla quickly reached Hades's side. After a thorough examination, Mortarion concluded that aside from significant blood loss and severe poisoning, Hades was largely unharmed.

In battle, Hades was always meticulous, despite often appearing careless otherwise.

His defenses were impeccable.

Yet, Hades continued his melodramatic wailing. Mortarion, exasperated, dragged him away from the xenos corpse and handed him over to a tearful Herilla.

Hades's loud complaints immediately turned into soft whimpers.

Such an annoying fellow.

Mortarion thought this once again.

Unlike his friend Typhon, whom Mortarion respected and trusted deeply, Hades... Mortarion trusted him, but his antics often gave Mortarion headaches.

For instance, the Death Guard under Hades's command believed in silent combat and marching. Even in death or injury, they would not utter a sound.

But Hades was an exception...

Regardless, since Hades rarely participated in large-scale battles and didn't disrupt the morale, Mortarion tolerated his quirks, much like he tolerated Typhon's sharp tongue.

Realizing Hades wasn't in mortal danger, Mortarion turned his attention elsewhere.

He retrieved a dagger he had thrown earlier from a corpse.

Circling the xenos lord's body, Mortarion trusted Hades's combat prowess, even though he was only fourteen. But it seemed improbable for him to single-handedly kill a lord skilled in psychic powers.

Having battled Lord Lazarus, Mortarion knew the strength of his psychic sorcery. Most mortals could barely withstand a single blow.

Then he saw it: a stone, split in two.

Picking it up, the nauseating, malevolent aura it once held was gone. Mortarion remembered this stone well. During his battle with Lord Lazarus, many of the lord's sorceries were channeled through it.

He didn't recall any damage to the stone when Lazarus escaped. Even when he tried to attack it, he was always repelled by its powerful warp distortions.

He knew Lazarus had obtained the stone after sacrificing countless villagers, but Lazarus hadn't offered his own soul. This meant the stone's state wasn't linked to Lazarus's life or death.

So, it wasn't Lazarus's death that caused the stone to break.

It had been attacked by something else.

Could Hades be a hidden psyker?

No, that was impossible. Even psykers couldn't achieve this. If Hades had used sorcery on the stone, it would bear a malevolent aura.

But now, the stone bore no aura at all. It was, in every sense, inert.

Mortarion frowned, pocketing the two stone fragments.

He then hoisted Hades onto his back, letting Herilla carry the xenos lord's severed head, and they made their way to the rebel forces below.

The only consolation for Mortarion was that, due to exhaustion and blood loss, Hades had finally passed out and shut his mouth.

Hades now lay comfortably in bed, enjoying being fed by Herilla...

The young woman leaned close to Hades, her long eyelashes quivering as she gazed at him tenderly. Her eyes were soft, almost melting. Freckles adorned her upturned nose, and though her lips, tainted by the toxic air of Barbarus, were unnaturally pale, they were delicate.

Hades swore he could smell a faint scent of soap, even though soap was a rare luxury on Barbarus.

Wait... that expression... was Hades truly in bliss or in agony?

In Herilla's hand was a bowl of an unidentifiable purple liquid. A thick layer of yellow grease floated on top. As she stirred, chunks of something floated to the surface.

She scooped up a spoonful of the mysterious substance, offering it to Hades with a gentle smile. The pungent odor instantly overpowered the faint soap scent.

Hades had to muster all his strength to swallow back the rising bile.

Using every ounce of willpower, which he felt was comparable to when he struck down Lazarus, Hades managed a weak smile, looking at Herilla.

Herilla returned the gaze with a shy smile, "Hades, time to eat~"

Elder brother, time for your medicine~

Help meeeeeee!

Hades: In my past life, I was a grand sorcerer.

And Mortarion truly cared for the Death Guard.

In "The Silent Primarch," Mortarion gently helped up a Death Guard named Vokar.

In another tale, Mortarion pulled an exhausted Death Guard from the enemy's grasp and placed him safely behind the lines.

He was a fatherly figure, indeed.