My Life as A Death Guard (Warhammer 30K Male MC)

A subtle tension filled the atmosphere in the strategy room.

Although he was technically under Perturabo's command, Mortarion didn't feel nearly as bitter about it as he had imagined.

Because right now, he was standing here—at the strategic command table—and Perturabo was instructing the Death Guard to make landfall at a specific location in Mining Sector 03, to coordinate with the Iron Warriors and the Graia Skitarii for a targeted strike on a surface structure held by the Necrons.

Ha—this was exactly the area Mortarion had pointed out earlier.

Mortarion stared fixedly at Perturabo, waiting for the next line—

"The Iron Warriors will provide air superiority for the Death Guard in this Sector."

Yes! That was it!

Mortarion's heavy breathing hissed from beneath his gas mask, and Hades was certain—the big guy was laughing.

Big Brother! For the love of anything that is holy, don't laugh out loud right now! Please!

Hades had worked hard to get these two back into the same strategy room. He didn't want the personalities of these two Primarchs to lead to a breakdown in communication between their Legions, which could result in unnecessary casualties.

To Hades's relief, compared to Mortarion, Perturabo was like he'd had an iron mask seared onto his face—expressionless, unbothered by Mortarion's reaction, and simply continuing with his briefing, or rather, issuing orders.

For some reason, the enemy forces in this sector were significantly smaller than before. While Necron reinforcements continued to stream up from Mining Sector 03, the stiff, mechanical soldiers seemed solely focused on halting the Imperium's advance into the Sector.

But compared to the enemy on the ground, the real threat came from space—it was a noose tightening around their fleet's throat at every moment.

The Iron Warriors' fleet had already assumed a scattered, defensive formation, ready at any moment to engage at maximum thrust and maneuvering power.

Perturabo needed to focus more resources and attention on countering the spaceborne threats, so he assigned the task of ground-clearing a portion of the Necron forces to the Death Guard.

Mortarion, for his part, had arrived with relatively few ships, so there was little point involving him in any naval conflict.

Vast quantities of data streamed through Perturabo's neural implants. Based on intel gathered by the Iron Warriors, it appeared likely that Necron fleets might reappear in Sector 53.

Analysis of the wreckage from Necron ships had also been completed—and Perturabo was shocked to find that nothing aboard these vessels possessed autonomous function. From the warriors to the ship command systems, everything operated solely via ground-based command signals.

This aligned perfectly with what the Iron Warriors had previously documented about the Xenos race:

A highly centralized autocracy, with frontline troops having no capacity for independent thought or decision-making.

In other words, they could try to sever the connection between the ground command and the Necron ships.

Despite the shockingly advanced capabilities of the Necrons in space warfare, their ground tactics were rather conventional—nothing innovative, and posing no extraordinary threat.

Perturabo needed to concentrate his forces in space, not on the surface.

After decoding and analyzing the data stream, Perturabo was startled to discover that the origin of the signal was near the very location Mortarion had previously identified—in the rear lines of the enemy presence in Mining Sector 03.

If they wanted to seize that region in a short period of time, additional troops would have to be thrown into the fray. The Iron Warriors stationed in Graia-106 simply didn't have the numbers to capture the area within a timeframe Perturabo would deem acceptable.

So let the Death Guard handle it.

Perturabo thought this expressionlessly. Sure, the Iron Warriors could deploy troops there, but he'd rather preserve his forces for future war.

Let those Death Guard, who had just been standing by watching the Iron Warriors without lifting a finger, take this one.

Meanwhile, beside the two Primarchs whose mere presence seemed to repel each other like clashing magnetic fields, Hades was deep in concentration, carefully analyzing Perturabo's strategy.

Judging from the enemy's behavior thus far, it was likely that only a portion of the Necrons on this planet had been awakened. They had deployed only the smallest class of warships, and on the ground, the bulk of the enemy forces still consisted of the standard Necron Warriors. This all pointed to the fact that this Necron branch was relatively minor.

The enemy's response to Imperial action had so far only amounted to "expulsion."

And frankly speaking, compared to space, the surface might actually be safer—provided the Necrons didn't unleash orbital cleansing weaponry.

But for now, air superiority over Graia-106 remained firmly in the hands of the Iron Warriors. Even the Necrons would need a significant amount of time to challenge for air dominance and deploy such weapons.

Based on the intel Perturabo had provided, Hades suspected that the region might house a Cryptek structure connected to shallow-level Necron networks.

The Necron forces there might be more elite than expected.

Still, the real threat wasn't on the ground. It was above.

Deploying forces to that region was meant to support the larger space engagement.

Hades pondered for a moment, then reassessed the Necron troop deployment in Sector 03 against the Iron Warriors' own formations.

It's feasible.

But only if the Iron Warriors stationed around Sector 03 actively coordinated with the Death Guard's offensive, holding back enemy reinforcements and providing fire support.

Hades quietly opened a private comm channel to Mortarion.

"We need to have a detachment of Iron Warriors land alongside the Death Guard."

"The number isn't important—but those Iron Warriors must be elite."

Mortarion was silent for a moment, displeased.

Why bring Iron Warriors into a Death Guard operation?

Was Hades questioning his Legion?

But in the next instant, the Primarch understood.

Iron Warriors might not come to support the Death Guard. But they would come to support fellow Iron Warriors.

(…Well, everyone except Perturabo.)

This part of Iron Warriors would ensure the rest of the Iron Warriors were motivated to act decisively.

Mortarion blinked slowly.

The Emperor had once told him that cooperation between Legions was unshakable. That honor and discipline within each Legion were eternal, unbreakable tenets.

In the Emperor's words, his brothers—and their sons—were like the demigods sung of by Imperial Remembrancers.

But as Mortarion stared at Perturabo now, he realized—

That was all bullshit.

The good news was, ever since Perturabo had "acknowledged" Mortarion's earlier plan, Mortarion's mood had improved enough that he could still stomach exchanging a few more words with him.

"Brother,"

Closing the channel with Hades, Mortarion spat out the word like he was coughing up phlegm—mumbled, reluctant, and dripping with disdain.

"I believe, for the assault on this region, the Death Guard might need a few Iron Warriors to lead the way. Help us get familiar with the... terrain."

Perturabo almost let a flicker of confusion slip across his stern, cold expression—but he caught himself in time.

He turned his head and stared at Mortarion.

He was still trying to read something—anything—from this "brother" who seemed so eager to provoke him.

But Mortarion's face was shrouded behind his ever-present haze of yellow-green toxic fumes. Even with a Primarch's keen eyesight, it was impossible to read his expression.

The moment Perturabo focused on Mortarion, the familiar reek of his poisonous gas grew stronger in his senses.

Perturabo suddenly realized—Mortarion was doing this on purpose. He was deliberately using the gas to disgust his brothers. This filthy backwater brute took pleasure in fumigating the rest of them—normal people—and watching them squirm.

A man like that would never say anything in good faith.

Maybe Vulkan or Horus might've spoken such words sincerely, but not Mortarion.

Did Mortarion want to see Iron Warriors underperform compared to the Death Guard on the same battlefield?

Was this wretched "brother" hoping to get a good recording of the battle, so he could publicly mock him?

Did Mortarion think he'd hesitate to commit troops, too afraid to expose weakness?

Perturabo's voice hardened with growing anger. He abruptly turned away, unwilling to keep looking at Mortarion's nauseating presence.

"Dantioch, step forward!"

"You'll be in charge of coordinating with the Death Guard on their ground assault."

"And make sure the Iron Warriors show their steel."

Shrouded in his cloud of noxious fumes, Mortarion allowed himself a smug glance at the top of Perturabo's head. (He was the tallest one here, after all.)

He knew Perturabo would take his words as provocation. 

That man wasn't capable of assuming good intentions.

Maybe next time, he should just skip the whole "brother" charade altogether—it almost made him gag saying it.

Then, Mortarion reopened his private channel to Hades and said, smugly:

"It's done."

Now, he could go back to the day of joyfully butchering some xenos.

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