My Life as A Death Guard

Hades first looked around, ensuring no monsters were nearby.

He tried to tear his clothing for bandages. In Barbarus, bleeding is extremely dangerous; it makes you easier prey and allows the gas to enter your body through the wounds.

This is why Hades decided to bandage himself before finding a place to spend the night. Wandering around while bleeding was not a good choice.

After several attempts, he found his hands almost frozen in place, still gripping the dagger and crossbow tightly.

He had to wait a little longer, trying hard to regain control of his hands. Finally, feeling returned, and he cut a piece of cloth from the hem of his long-sleeved shirt to bandage his left arm.

No herbs—damn it, he had forgotten to bring them.

He shook his left arm, blood soaking the torn sleeve. There was still a scent of blood, but the bleeding had stopped.

There was no way to clean the wound and wash away the blood. In Barbarus, accessible water sources are contaminated, and drinkable water needs to be filtered in advance.

Hades realized he had been careless. He could have brought a water bottle and herbs, but the sudden attack had left him grabbing only his weapons and gas mask.

He’s still too careless.

The coming hours would be difficult for Hades.

He gritted his teeth, feeling pain in every part of his body. The little porridge he had for dinner was far from enough for the exertion he had just undergone, leaving his limbs weak and his mind dizzy.

In his current state, even a venomous toad could take him down.

He reloaded his crossbow, tucked it back into his clothes, and, holding his knife, stumbled through the cornfield. He knew of a recently dug shallow grave nearby, where the wagon carrying the deceased was parked, and he could find some cover there.

However, Barbarus never showed mercy to the weak.

Noises arose from afar, prompting Hades to dive deeper into the cornfield. He half-crawled, pressing his wound tightly to prevent the smell of blood from escaping.

As time passed, the noises became clearer.

Footsteps, wails, the distinctive roar of steam-powered vehicles, and the clanking of tank treads.

Damn!!! Damn, damn, damn!!!

It was the slaver squad of a high-ranking Overlord!!!

Was he really going to die here today?!

The puppets enchanted by the overlords, though devoid of reason, could easily detect the scent of blood in the gas. Hades knew he couldn’t avoid being discovered.

In an instant, a massive, toxin-soaked net dropped precisely onto Hades’ head.

He didn’t struggle; he knew he couldn’t escape from such a net. His only desperate choice was to stay still and conserve his energy.

He was dragged out of the cornfield and roughly thrown into an overcrowded cargo truck.

Numbly, he looked around at the men, women, and children, all crying in despair.

There was no hope, not a sliver of a chance against the overwhelming power in this world filled with absolute malice.

This was the world of Warhammer; being weak was always a sin.

He couldn’t save anyone; he couldn’t even save himself.

Despair and exhaustion gripped Hades, and he fainted.

Today, Hades cried like a sprite with a stubbed toe.

———————

Just a bit of misery to spice things up. The protagonist’s chicken-like fate will last for a few more chapters since he’s still young and it’s a grimdark world.

I’ll try to balance the misery with some invincible moments later on.

Afterward, when he becomes a Death Guard Astartes, the protagonist will have his moments of triumph.