Chapter 98: Stop Showing Off, We Know You Have a Primarch

A Plasma Incinerator lay silently on the table, its blue charging coil flickering dimly, indicating that the weapon was currently uncharged.

The Plasma Incinerator, a type of plasma gun, was favored by veteran Tech-Priests. Its heavy, solid frame, surrounded by charging coils, could unleash plasma shots as hot as stars. Most space marines didn't equip it due to its tendency to overheat. However, skilled Tech-Priests knew how to appease the machine spirit—or, in other words, control its usage time and frequency to minimize overheating.

Hades hummed a tune, adjusting the gun's grip to better fit the servo-harness on his back.

Every Tech-Marine had their personal preference for what to carry on their backs. The most common were servo-arms, useful for repairs and crushing enemy skulls, or a flamer, illuminating enemies while welding, or a plasma cutter, delighting enemies with the joy of being bisected. So, one should never provoke a Tech-Marine. After thirty years of rigorous training, they have at least three more arms than you.

As for Hades, he lacked such imagination. He simply wanted to weld the Plasma Incinerator to his back, surprising enemies with a Lion's Blade technique.

In the past, Hades often found himself in close combat, facing opponents with scythes. But now? With a gun suddenly emerging from his back and firing a plasma shot, they'd all be doomed! If it weren't for the complexities of the power armor's backpack, which involved some secrets of the Cult Mechanicus—only available to devout Tech-Marines—and the extensive training required to operate it, Hades would have modified every power armor to have a mechanical arm.

Making close combat even more loyal!

Feeling Hades modifying its body, the Plasma Incinerator sent a few garbled codes to him. Some small weapons occasionally possessed machine spirits, though not many. They could barely convey emotions to Hades. Familiar with the situation, Hades played a code given by an old mentor, and the gun ceased its complaints.

Humming, Hades joyfully modified the weapon. Here, there were no sudden work assignments, no superiors abruptly assigning tasks. He could learn at his own pace, and tools and materials were provided free of charge.

He even had a free assistant, Jin, who occasionally brought parts as per Hades's requests, acting as a dedicated toolbearer.

Compared to the battlefield, this place was heaven!

When mealtime arrived, Hades reluctantly set down the gun. He had also given it a new paint job. According to the gun's preference and Hades's aesthetics, it was painted pitch black, with edges highlighted in the moss green of the Death Guard. A pale skull of the Death Guard was prominently placed above the charging coil. Each time it charged, the skull would light up, targeting its prey.

Seeing Hades rise, Jin efficiently approached, helping him clean up the mess. Unlike other Tech-Marines who'd just walk away, Hades bent down and sheepishly smiled, "Ah, Jin, about that food thing?"

A string of angry codes appeared. Hades believed that if Jin weren't still working under the Sage of Mars, he'd be cursing out loud.

"No!" Jin snapped, "Lord Hades of the Death Guard, most of the food on Mars is for diplomats, Imperial envoys to Mars, and some Sages with eating habits. Otherwise, there's no other food on Mars."

Hades blinked, "Didn't you bring me some food before?"

Jin momentarily froze but quickly regained his assertive Tech-Acolyte demeanor. "That was... that was because I thought you could... you could..."

His voice trailed off.

Hmm. Hades felt he shouldn't have raised the other's hopes.

Hades put on a serious face, "Alright, Jin, it's fine. If there's no food, I'll ask other Tech-Marines."

"Don't worry. Having been with me for so long, I'll definitely introduce you to the Death Guard when I return."

Hades instantly reverted to his casual demeanor, patting Jin's shoulder, "When you rise through the ranks on Mars thanks to the Death Guard, don't forget me."

Jin's electronic eyes flashed, and a screen full of angry symbols erupted.

Perhaps due to the arrival of a new batch of Tech-Marines from the Astartes, the dining hall was bustling. Having chatted with Jin earlier, Hades arrived a bit late. Most space marines had finished eating and were chatting. Hades naturally took a bowl from a servitor and sat where most people were. There, a group of Astartes and their hounds were chatting, with the Imperial Fist and Iron Hand occasionally joining in.

Seeing Hades, the accustomed veterans ignored him and continued their conversations, while the new recruits occasionally glanced his way.

Hades didn't react, scooping his porridge and listening. Severus, noticing Hades, offered a box of something resembling biscuits, "Try this? A specialty from Macragge."

Hades eagerly took one, munching while listening to their conversations.

They were discussing battles with the Primarchs or the Emperor. Unlike Hades, most Tech-Marines would spend a few years in their legions, experiencing wars before being sent to Mars.

The Iron Hands spoke of their battles alongside Ferrus Manus. In their eyes, the towering Primarch was like refined steel, rationally analyzing the battlefield's shifts and mercilessly raining fire on the enemy lines. Yet, after battles, he would visit wounded soldiers, converse with them, and inquire about the battlefield's minutest details to better reduce casualties in the next war and protect his progeny.

Iron Hand Alexandran was currently recounting a meeting with Ferrus, detailing it as if presenting an academic paper.

But Hades knew he was showing off. Unlike other legions, due to the Primarch's love for technology, Iron Hand Tech-Marines were highly respected and could potentially become the Iron Father of the legion.

Hades didn't mind, continuing with his porridge. However, he felt the surrounding Space Wolves were on the verge of tears.

Of course, the atmosphere around the Iron Warriors wasn't great either.

Hades blinked. Usually, at times like this, either he or Severus would change the topic. But Hades was preoccupied, pondering how to address the Space Wolves. As expected, Severus intervened, "Under the Emperor's guidance, lost planets and Primarchs will eventually return to the Imperium's embrace."

"Perhaps the next to be found will be your Primarch. Don't lose hope, brother."

"Thank you," sighed Space Wolf Perez.

Seeing the topic broken, Severus decided to let an expert handle it, turning to Hades, "The Death Guard's Primarch has just returned. Have you met your father, Hades?"

Severus intended for Hades to divert the topic since only the Space Wolves, Iron Warriors, and Hades hadn't discussed their Primarchs.

Hades's spoon trembled. Should he be honest in this situation? "I'm not close to our legion's leader. We've met only a few times," he said nonchalantly, continuing with his porridge, "Our legion leader just returned, and legion affairs are mostly settled."

"Don't

be overly pessimistic, brother," Hades said, directing his words towards the Space Wolves.

Ah, the Space Wolves were disciplined and yearned for their Primarch. Although Hades couldn't immediately summon divine weapons to drop onto Nuceria's surface, he felt he should at least offer some words of encouragement to the Space Wolves.

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