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

The Endurance, Private Training Room No. 7.

Now.

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Hades held his scythe, swiftly dodging the attacks of the combat servitor in front of him.

The giant six-bladed combat servitor's attacks were relentless, the chainsaw's roar deafening as it slashed towards Hades.

Hades quickly repelled the oncoming chainsaw with his scythe, the blade moving like lightning in the air. Countless tiny sparks flew from the clash between scythe and chainsaw, only to vanish instantly within the storm of blades.

For a moment, man and machine were locked in a stalemate, their shadows dancing across the room.

At times, the combat servitor would gain the upper hand, forcing Hades to retreat, but then Hades would predict the servitor's next moves, countering with heavy scythe strikes to regain control.

At this moment, the room was silent save for the sound of blades slicing through the air, their metal clashing.

Hades' eyes widened, his mind free of distractions. Aside from the six roaring chainsaw blades, there was nothing else in his head.

The scenes he saw days ago in the dueling cage suddenly flashed before his eyes.

In slow motion, Hades saw the servitor's entire series of attacks.

This is it!

Hades adjusted his stance slightly, taking a small step to the right, just narrowly dodging a vicious swipe.

A confident smile slowly spread across his face—

In his eyes, the combat servitor's once blisteringly fast attacks now seemed to play out in slow motion.

All of its attacks are easily avoidable. Full of weaknesses!

Mimicking the flashy moves of a veteran soldier wielding a greatsword in the dueling cage, Hades sidestepped the next attack, switched his scythe hand, and executed a graceful twirl of the blade.

Then, he lunged forward with a hooking motion, breaking the servitor's attack rhythm. His massive, modified body was completely exposed within the servitor's attack range, but Hades showed no fear.

Because the next strike would be your death!

As if sensing Hades' thoughts, the six chainsaw blades roared louder, swinging down as if to embrace Hades—

The silent scythe cut through the noise.

Shhhhh—Kng!

The chainsaw blades' roar faded, powerless. The chainsaw that had been spinning at high speed gradually lost its force and came to a stop.

The red light on top of the combat servitor blinked frantically, like a silent plea for help, but within a few seconds, the flashing slowed.

Finally, it went out.

Hades stood in the middle of the training cage, his scythe hanging low.

In front of him, no more than three steps away, the combat servitor stood motionless.

Then, the top of the servitor wobbled a few times.

Boom!

From its waist, a clean cut split the massive machine in two.

Hades, seeing the servitor that had beaten him for over a week finally perish, couldn't hold back the rush of satisfaction that surged from his chest.

What a relief!

From being unable to block a single strike and running for his life within the training cage, to holding his ground for several moves, to finally understanding the servitor's attack patterns and even pulling off a stylish flourish with his scythe—Hades had spent an entire week training!

Four days of that week, he had been relentlessly beaten!

Looking at the fallen servitor's corpse, Hades realized that the tough initiation task set by veteran soldier Branka was now complete, and he could move on to the next phase of training.

Hades casually shook his scythe, instinctively trying to shake off any blood or flesh. Then, he remembered—he had been fighting a machine, so there's no need to shake it off.

However, as Hades shook his scythe, a crack appeared on the weighted training scythe, like the surface of ice about to shatter, spreading with delicate fractures.

What Hades didn't realize was that a standard training scythe wasn't strong enough to cut through a Type-3 combat servitor. He had instinctively found the servitor's weak point and, using brute strength and speed, had forcibly cleaved it in two.

The door to the solo training room suddenly flew open, and Branka strode in, followed by a tech sergeant carrying a multi-functional backpack.

As they entered, the door slammed shut, and the blade of Hades' scythe crumbled apart, pieces falling to the floor.

Clatter, clatter.

Ah... this.

Hades suddenly felt he shouldn't have cleaved the machine that had beaten him for a week in two.

The tech sergeant saw the severed combat servitor in the cage, and the red light on his helmet flashed rapidly.

He reached out, placing a hand on Branka's shoulder in front of him.

[Care to explain?]

For the first time, Hades saw Branka freeze.

So... this is the situation now.

Hades sat cautiously beside Branka. Two big men sitting on a row of chairs outside the training cage looked rather awkward.

The tech sergeant's helmet light blinked furiously as he paced back and forth in front of them.

A flurry of words Hades couldn't understand, spoken in Low Gothic, spilled rapidly from the tech sergeant's helmet.

At first, Branka stiffly argued back, but eventually, his voice diminished to a feeble "Mm, mm, mm."

[You assigned the recruit a Type-3? And now the recruit broke it???]

[Branka, I know you're stubborn, but evaluating each recruit's combat ability shouldn't be that difficult, right?]

[You only have two soldiers under your command, and you still couldn't manage this??]

[I know you didn't think a recruit could take on a Type-3. Honestly, I agree, it's absurd. But that doesn't excuse you from ignoring the recruit's progress for an entire week.]

[Did you really not monitor the recruit's progress?]

[The Legion is expanding, and we're already struggling with equipment manufacturing. Now you're telling me I have to come off the assembly line to fix a combat servitor for you?]

Branka, with none of his earlier bravado, had tried to argue a little, but after glancing at the servitor lying split in two on the ground...

And considering that the tech sergeant—Alberto—had enlisted alongside Branka and would likely be at his level if he hadn't taken the tech sergeant path, which slowed down his military promotion.

Moreover, Alberto had twice dug Branka out of a pile of corpses during battlefield repair missions.

Well... he hadn't expected the recruit to be this strong.

Branka, feeling bitter, mentally shot a small bolt gun at Hades.

Then he sat obediently, listening to Alberto's scolding.

Just as Hades was feeling like dinner time was fast approaching, the door to the training room opened once again, saving both Branka and Hades.

Master of the Forge Enrique stepped in. 

Seeing his mentor enter, Alberto immediately stopped complaining and saluted.

[Apologies. Alberto will return to his post immediately.]

Enrique glanced at the training cage, instantly understanding what had just happened.

Tsk tsk, to break a Type-3 like this... what an impressive young man.

Earlier, Alberto had been infuriated by the sudden repair task, and Branka had been busy handling Alberto. Both had subconsciously downplayed just how difficult Hades' accomplishment was.

But Enrique thought, it's unfortunate that the Type-3 broke at this time, but for now...

Praise the Omnissiah!

Enrique looked at Hades.

"Hades, you need to make up for the damage you've caused."

"But given your superior's negligence, this isn't entirely your fault."

"Therefore, I've decided to give you a lighter punishment. On every even day of the Terra week, during your free time, you'll assist in the forge for two months."

Hades looked at Enrique, feeling like something wasn't quite right.

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