My Life as A Death Guard

The fully drawn scythe gleamed coldly, slicing toward the Decayer’s head!

The Decayer’s pupils contracted sharply. Realizing the danger, he had no time to activate his psionic shield. He swiftly raised his whip and slashed at his own head!

The massive, fly-like head spun through the air—

Countless compound eyes, teeming and relentless, fixed on the specter of Hades, as if to proclaim the inevitability of his failure.

Caught off guard by the Decayer’s self-decapitation, Hades missed his strike. But he immediately adjusted his scythe, retracting the black domain, hooking onto the connection between the Decayer’s humanoid torso and its fly-like body.

From this height, a rough landing was almost certain for Hades without a proper buffer.

The headless, hulking corpse began its descent, as if in slow motion.

The swarm of flies, leaderless, scattered chaotically, flying aimlessly like headless flies, only to be systematically picked off by the zealous defenders.

Hades crouched on the back of the Decayer’s corpse, plummeting rapidly—

Bang!

Squish!

The enormous body, along with Hades, crashed into the knee-deep mire of flesh, sending a viscous wave cascading outward. Fat, white maggots mixed with bile and putrid flesh arced gracefully through the air.

The skies were now devoid of the fly swarm. Survivors stood in stunned silence, gazing at the epicenter of the tidal wave, their weapons lowering unconsciously.

But the thick, clinging waves obscured their vision.

As the ripples subsided, the massive, black, now slightly flattened corpse of the giant fly lay motionless on the ground. Semi-transparent green goo oozed slowly from its body.

There he stood, his armor slick with the enemy’s vile fluids, holding his scythe like a deity of slaughter.

Behind him, countless fly corpses fell to the ground, stirring ripples in the filth.

“Praise the Omnissiah…”

Jin muttered, trembling as he stared at Hades, struggling to comprehend this hellish tableau.

His logical engine seemed to have stopped functioning. What had they just experienced?

This— This was hell!

When the warped flesh surged from underground, and when the fly swarm charged them, Jin thought he was as good as dead. He had fired his weapon purely on autopilot, his survival instincts bolstered by the mechanical override of his engine.

But now… he was still alive.

Praise the Omnissiah, he was still alive!

All thanks to that man—that man… Was that truly Hades? The Techmarine he had been assisting all this time?

He was more like… a god of slaughter returning from the depths of hell.

The last drop of corrupted flesh fell into the mire, and the previously still figure stirred.

“Ugh—”

It was the first sound Hades made—a dry retch.

Compared to Jin’s muddled thoughts, his memory core quickly confirmed Hades’ usual behavior.

Ah, yes. This is him.

Jin thought dryly.

At this moment, Hades, looking utterly resigned, was directing the defenders to set up barriers, clear obstacles that obstructed visibility, create open spaces, and plant landmines.

It was clear that a large army was marching quickly toward the city from the forest outskirts.

The ancient walls, long eroded by time and sabotage, offered no real defense, and their current forces were far too few to hold such a long line.

The enemy would inevitably breach the city.

Thus, the plan was to use the city’s terrain to split their forces and take them down in smaller groups.

Yet guerrilla tactics meant individuals were more likely to be trapped in perilous situations—and the enemy’s target was clearly Hades.

Once again, Hades felt an overwhelming sense of despair.

Where was the rescue team?! Someone, anyone, come save them!

He could only hope the rescue team would arrive before they were wiped out.

But realistically… Hades thought bleakly, the distress signal was most likely intercepted.

Ha. Hades let out a bitter laugh. He found himself resorting to prayer, hoping that the Forge World fleet, which was supposed to assist him, would sense that something was amiss. Hoping that the Death Guard would notice a sudden communication blackout from a Techmarine.

But by his calculations, if the Death Guard did realize something was wrong and rushed over, they would likely only arrive in time to collect his corpse.

The sudden appearance of the Decayer, the abnormal weather, the ambush in the forest cutting off reinforcements—all of it proved how thoroughly the enemy had prepared.

Clearly, from his earlier encounter with the Decayer, this was a trap laid by Nurgle, specifically targeting him.

Using a broken Blackstone Obelisk, they had lured him beyond the reach of the Imperium, accompanied only by a Mechanicus warband.

It was a strategy designed to eliminate him with minimal cost and collateral damage.

Hades blinked, taking a deep breath.

As Hades methodically organized the defenses, the previously dazed Magos Korklan approached.

Oh, he hadn’t been idle. Magos Korklan had inspected the Decayer’s corpse, only to freeze completely after examining it.

Hades briefly scanned the Magos. Hmm, his soul was pure, so Hades didn’t dwell on him further.

For now, arranging defenses and observing the situation took precedence.

Hades continued using administrative protocols to command the Skitarii. While not exactly humane, there was no time to comfort their shaken morale with another battle imminent.

Unbeknownst to Hades, while the earlier scene had left most of the Skitarii deeply shaken, his decisive actions—slaying the enemy and swiftly assuming command from Magos Korklan—brought a sense of stability to their fractured minds.

It wasn’t hollow reassurances, but Hades’ demonstrated capability and his apparent understanding of the enemy that calmed them.

When faced with situations that shattered their perception of reality, people yearned for a strong leader—someone who could stand between them and the crisis, take charge, and tell them what to do.

It was as if he had positioned himself between them and the abyss.

Gradually, many of the Skitarii’ vital systems began to stabilize.

“Those… were creatures from the Warp?”

“Those… profane beings?”

Magos Korklan’s synthetic voice crackled.

Creatures defying every law of physics, blood and flesh born from the most absurd nightmares of humanity. No straight lines, no fixed rules, beings despised and rejected by the Omnissiah.

He realized now—Hades had been developing weapons to combat such heretical entities all along.

“Mm.”

Hades grunted in response, his attention focused on the feed from Skitarii planting mines in the city outskirts.

“So… I’ve been developing weapons against them all this time?”

“Mm.”

Hades gave another absent-minded grunt.

Korklan suddenly froze, seemingly struggling to process everything.

“Dear god…”

The Magos whispered softly, a phrase devoid of meaning in any Mechanicum lexicon, escaping his vocal unit.

“At this moment, it seems I no longer care about that liar.”

“Huh?”

Hades was baffled. What’s he on about now?

“That man—he’s human, isn’t he?”

Korklan knew the thing that is called as the Emperor wasn’t a god. He was human—a fraud, albeit one with immense psychic power.

But was he connected to the Warp entities in some way?

“Yes, he’s human,” Hades replied without hesitation.

“And he’s dedicated to resisting the Warp’s influence on humanity.”

“That’s why you’re here, Korklan,” Hades said calmly. Immersed in coordinating the Skitarii, he didn’t realize his voice carried a cold, hoarse edge.

“Because he needs your technology. We need your technology. Humanity needs your technology.”

“These creatures will return. These daemons.”

“When they do, the galaxy will burn, planets will boil.”

“Life will perish, and the dead will litter the land.”

“That’s why I’ve devoted myself to researching anti-psionic weapons—to fight them.”

“So…”

Hades blinked.

“If he knew you’ve been working on anti-psionic weapons, I think he’d be quite pleased.”

Magos Korklan fell silent once more, and Hades could hear the faint mechanical clicks of gears turning within him.

“I understand.”

After a long pause, Korklan spoke again.

Within him, the engine of stored knowledge roared to life.

Among the countless Magos, he had been chosen.

In the name of the Omnissiah, he would step onto another battlefield.

And Korklan did not regret it.