— What's the first thing you do after a battle? Looting. That's what Hades said.
<->
Barbarus, Southern Swamp, Diderot Mountains.
Hades hummed a tune, leisurely rummaging through the bookshelf of the mid-tier Xenos Overlord Desley.
The shelves were filled with various steam machinery blueprints unique to Barbarus, experimental records, and ancient Barbarus texts—most of which were related to psionics.
‘Not bad,’ Hades thought as he eyed the thick stack of steam machinery blueprints.
Compared to the other minor overlords he had dealt with, Desley had a surprisingly extensive collection of steam machinery blueprints.
These brutal, cunning Xenos Overlords typically relied on their psionic sorcery to dominate, rarely accumulating or developing steam-based electronic machinery beyond necessary steam vehicles and anti-toxin equipment.
Most Barbarus overlords invested heavily in psionics, not machinery.
Except for the highly skilled overlord like Necare, who maxed out both.
"Well, that's just a bit over the top," Hades mused, continuing to sort through the blueprints.
Even though Hades couldn't handle machinery now—touching it would kill him—he believed that one day he could compress his black zone down to his skin.
Then he could handle machinery!
He truly is a genius.
Damn, this big machinery is a man's true romance!
In this Warhammer world, if he couldn't wield a chainsword, bolter, or meltagun, what was the point of life?! None!
Hades revered technology.
Producing a meltagun in a few hours at a factory to instantly arm a soldier with a 75-point attack weapon was far more valuable than training a Space Marine with a 200-point attack for years.
Technology is power!
This was the simple faith of an engineering student from Earth in the 2000s.
He almost converted to the Cult Mechanicus—cough, no, not quite.
After organizing the mechanical blueprints, Hades turned to examine other instruments in the laboratory.
A toxin extractor dripped black-purple liquid, two interconnected devices probably related to psionics, a flaying machine, with an old, dried human skin hanging from it.
Damn filthy aliens.
After a thorough search, Hades ensured there were no more useful instruments or salvageable parts left.
(Yes, he had previously dismantled a bunch of instruments just for the parts, which now jingled in his pockets.)
He then walked over to the Xenos Overlord's corpse beside the workbench.
Hades pulled out a knife from his waist and began—
Flaying.
Yes, flaying.
The aliens of Barbarus evolved skins resistant to the pervasive toxins.
Hades planned to sew custom anti-toxin suits from their skins.
Currently, Mortarion's rebellion mainly used enclosed armor to resist the toxins.
Mortarion would definitely disapprove of Hades' flaying method, but Hades knew what he needed.
Those armors couldn't fully block the toxins unless they were high-tech power armors like the Space Marines'.
Clearly, Barbarus' small craftsmen couldn't achieve that level.
But that was fine; Hades only needed to know how to resist the peak toxins.
However, even these measures couldn't fully protect against Barbarus' toxins—
The toxins on Barbarus carried psychic damage, which was a shocking revelation for Hades.
He remembered the first time he used the Black Zone to sense his surroundings; he hadn't detected the faint green-glowing toxins in the air.
After all, if you're entirely immersed in something, it's hard to notice it.
It wasn't until Hades attempted to ascend the mountains that he sensed the rapidly intensifying toxins with the Black Zone.
Hades discovered that even the soil of Barbarus emitted a faint green psychic glow.
This realization was astonishing.
From the perspective of the Warp, if one were to look at Barbarus from space, it would appear as a planet glowing faintly green.
This is a planet utterly cursed by the Warp!
Every time Hades thought about it, he forced his thoughts to stop, but he already knew that any attempt to avoid thinking about it was futile.
He had no choice but to face it.
It was clear that he was already being watched.
Could reducing the frequency of his thoughts decrease the likelihood of being noticed?
Hades didn't know.
In this grimdark world, there were always things he couldn't understand and things he couldn't achieve.
The only thing he could do now was make himself as strong as possible and prepare for the worst.
That's why he chose to challenge these minor overlords alone.
He needed to become stronger.
Simply staying within the Death Guard and following orders wouldn't have made him as strong as he was today.
He needed to become stronger to have even the slightest chance of survival in this world.
Because in this world, weakness is a sin!
Even in death, the soul would be tormented by the Daemons!.
True torment, with no peace even after death!
Finally, after carefully flaying large, usable pieces of skin, Hades stood up and slowly stored them away.
He had gathered quite a bit already, and it should be enough soon.
If he wanted to make a toxin-proof suit for Mortarion, it would require a lot of materials. Hades sighed deeply.
Primarchs, with their massive sizes, not only ate a lot but also required a lot of fabric for clothing!
Hades jokingly thought about scolding Mortarion for wasting so much material.
Just kidding, of course. He needed to stay on Mortarion's good side.
After finishing the flaying, Hades took another look around the laboratory to make sure there was nothing else of value.
He then walked out, heading determinedly towards the warehouse.
As for the laboratory, Hades didn't have to worry about it.
He had already informed Typhon and the Death Guard, who would come the next day to clean up the battlefield.
The Death Guard would take the blueprints, instruments, and the weapons piled in the warehouse that Hades had deliberately left behind.
Every time he saw so many weapons left behind, Hades felt a pang of regret.
However, he couldn't use them himself, so it was better to let the Death Guard use them.
Despite their less-than-favorable attitude towards him, they were brave warriors who risked their lives for humanity.
Compared to him, who only fought battles that benefited him and thought about running or playing dead if he couldn't win, they deserved everyone's respect.