On the planet Barbarus, within the southern swamps, stood the village of Mortarion.
It was the third year since Hades had arrived in the south.
The fog was thick, and Mortarion stood with his scythe at the ready. A few meters away, Hades too stood, gripping his own scythe, while a young man lay unconscious between them.
The oppressive aura emanating from Mortarion weighed heavily on Hades, making his breaths come faster. Damn it, the mention of Mortarion's foster father, Nakre, had clearly touched a nerve.
But this was a confrontation Mortarion would have to face sooner or later.
Hades knew he had to tread carefully now. If he didn't, Mortarion might just decide to end him right there.
Surrendering to the situation, Hades said, "I believe in you. I hope you can defeat Nakre."
"But why bring it up?" Mortarion questioned.
"I just wanted to know, Death Lord, which is more important to you: your vengeance or the people of Barbarus?"
Mortarion's hood and rebreather mask concealed most of his face, making it hard to read his emotions. But the wrinkles around his eyes betrayed his hesitation.
Hades knew Mortarion was torn.
This was the root of Mortarion's corruption, the seed that had been planted the moment he landed on Barbarus. Would Hades have to abandon the Death Guard and watch as Mortarion and his legion fell to corruption?
"People," Mortarion finally said. "Nakre took everything from me, denied my very existence. He's the one I hate the most. But the people of Barbarus... they accepted me when I had nothing. They gave me purpose. They entrusted their lives to me. They are the reason I exist. I fight against all that is unjust for them."
But was that really the truth, Mortarion? A voice whispered in the depths of Mortarion's mind, questioning his motives and decisions.
Mortarion hesitated, then whispered to himself, "No, the people chose me. I cannot betray them first. I won't become the next tyrant."
He silenced the voice in his head.
Hades, if he could hear Mortarion's internal struggle, would probably be quite amused. Firstly, because that voice was definitely up to no good. And secondly, because it was the people who had "abandoned" Mortarion first. It was an unsolvable problem. After all, you can't expect humans not to worship the Emperor.
Mortarion gently picked up the unconscious young man, preparing to leave. He glanced at Hades, his gaze inscrutable. He had always chosen the people, from the beginning to the end.
Hades met his gaze, showing only concern and worry.
Mortarion spoke, "But you shouldn't doubt me."
"You've changed over the years."
"Go back to the base. Don't always fight the xenos in the wild."
Mortarion didn't think Hades had lost trust in him. He just seemed more mature and stable. The familiar quirks were still there, like making jokes at inappropriate times.
Hades shrugged, stepping to the side of the road.
"Goodbye, Death Lord. I'll be back. Once I've settled things, I'll return."
Mortarion nodded, "Head north. The battles in the south are almost over."
Hades laughed, "Alright, I'll be back! To fight Nakre with you!!!"
Hades watched as Mortarion left with the vox-caster. Only when Mortarion reached the village's perimeter did Hades's presence fade.
[In the Subspace]
Nurglings danced joyfully on their bloated, rotting mounts. At the edge of the Garden of Nurgle, where life and death seemed too distant, the screeching of the Plaguebirds echoed.
The Nurgling stirred its pot, flinging viscous fluids into the boiling cauldron.
"Move! Move! He's mine!!! He's here with me!!"
The Plaguebird's cries lingered.
"Annoying creature," it muttered.
Damn it, Mortarion, just change your ways.
Oh, and by the way, there's no female lead in this story. I don't do that kind of thing.
Also, don't expect too much from this book. I'm a newbie. Thanks to this messed up Warhammer world.
Hades sighed, scratching his head.
It was clear that Mortarion was concerned about him. But just moments ago, he had threatened him with a blade!
So, there was only one possibility now - Hades had earned enough of Mortarion's trust!
Oh, the times they had shared, the battles they had fought side by side, the occasional dark humor. All of it had built up Mortarion's trust in him.
Hades wanted to throw his scythe away, raise his arms, and shout, "I did it! I earned his trust!"
But he knew better. The future was uncertain, and the challenges ahead were many.