Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 22 The Soul Drinker

As a chaotic, undifferentiated warp demon, Hill is not as powerful as other demons. On the contrary, it is extremely weak, so weak that even the benevolent Nurgle cannot defeat it.

Fortunately, the subspace is vast, and the area encompassed by the four gods only occupies a small portion, leaving countless spaces for the weak like Hill to survive.

For any creature, even a demon, survival is always the top priority.

As the sister world of the physical world, the subspace is not as desolate as people imagine. This world has its own ecosystem, which can even be described as overly thriving.

Without a doubt, at the pinnacle of the subspace are those few gods who have proven eternity. They rule the mountains, command countless demon armies, and wage an eternal holy war at all times, wantonly stirring up the sea of ​​souls.

But even the Warp Gods are not omnipotent, and there are countless realms that do not belong to the Four Gods, and Hill is one of them.

The law of the jungle applies everywhere. In order to survive, Hill works hard every day for its next meal, even though demons don't need to eat.

After all, as individuals born from the soul tides of the real world, every demon, or rather most subspace creatures, possesses a talent: the ability to devour souls.

The more intense the emotions of a soul, the more precious it is; it's like a tonic that can gradually make a demon stronger.

The problem is that Hill is too weak. He cannot cross the thick dimensional barrier to sacrifice himself to intelligent beings by bewitching them, nor can he receive divine blessings like the organized Four Gods Demon Army. He can only drift along with the warp tides and pick up scraps that no one wants.

It sounds dreadful, and it is, but don't underestimate the job of picking up trash.

The Sea of ​​Souls is not a benevolent place; a moment's carelessness can lead to being swallowed by warp storms. Not to mention, the roles of prey and hunter can be switched in an instant. Only the most experienced scavengers can capture souls from the tides and possess them.

Hill is precisely such an experienced garbage collector, which is also one of Hill's few sources of happiness.

It sounds incredible that a demon could have such a positive emotion as happiness, but that's the truth. Demons also experience joy, anger, sorrow, and fear, especially death, which they fear to the core.

Hill believed that as long as it persevered, it would one day become a powerful demon, and perhaps even become a mountain king and a local overlord.

Even better, Hill recently discovered that its luck had turned around. It had found a prime location that was not coveted by other warp creatures: a ship, a massive steel vessel that made other predators shun it.

According to my fellow demons nearby, there is a group of humans with dim souls and a strange smell here, and there is a terrifying monster among them. I must not get close.

But like all anglers, as long as they can catch fish, they won't give up on a fishing spot even if they know there's a bomb nearby.

Without the predators spying on them, Hill was able to collect a large number of unclaimed fragments each time, and it also discovered that these soul fragments were of surprisingly high quality, completely contrary to the place that made the demons uneasy.

"The bigger the storm, the more precious the soul. I definitely won't crash."

With self-enlightenment, Hill grew bolder. Instead of collecting the floating fragments from the soul tides, it began to follow the ship to better accumulate power.

Perhaps those who drown always know how to swim. Just as Hill continued to upgrade as usual, a wave crashed in and slammed him into the Geiger field of the Abomination Exemplar, where he became firmly stuck to the outer wall of the porthole.

"Snapped!"

With a sharp crack, our demonic garbage collector Hill was knocked to the ground, trembling like a little girl, too afraid to even look at the terrifying monster.

"Tell me, why were you spying on my ship? What did you hear? Answer me!"

"Waaaaah,"

???

"You're not going to talk, huh? I love your stubbornness. You're out of luck today, coinciding with my bad mood. So you think you can get away with anything? I'll show you what cruelty is today, Brian. Hang him up and keep beating him."

Upon receiving the order, the company commander pulled the chains and hoisted the unfortunate demon up.

Perhaps realizing something, Hill shook violently and let out strange howls, but Brian didn't care and started punching her.

"Serves you right for being so stubborn! You dare to pull out my window? You're asking for trouble! Keep going!"

Even though Brian didn't use his full strength, he was still a Space Marine, while Hill was a weakling. He beat him up in just a few moves, leaving him bleeding profusely and smoking. The entire city was almost shattered.

"woooooo"

"Still whining? I think you really want to die." "Um, Father, is it possible that this subspace creature has already begged for mercy, but is just in too much pain to speak?" Brian suggested.

Brian, who was brought in to interrogate the prisoners, was terrified. His father suddenly gathered them together, first punishing Tom, then inexplicably becoming sad, and finally gesturing wildly and saying things that were incomprehensible.

Brian was very worried about his father's mental state, fearing that something unexpected might happen, since he was still torturing a subspace creature he found on the roadside.

"How is that possible? This is a demon, and demons don't feel pain."

Mordred wasn't sure if demons felt pain, but he knew none of them were good; they might even be spies sent by the Four Peddlers to harm him.

But after hearing Brian's opinion, Mordred did not issue another order, but instead gave the demon time to recover.

Ten minutes later, Hill's jaw, which had been shattered by a slap, was finally usable again, and he quickly shouted:

"My lord, spare me! My lord, spare me! I really didn't hear what you were saying. I haven't even harmed a single human being. I simply don't have that ability!"

"You're talking nonsense. Since you've never harmed a single human, how come you can speak Gothic, and High Gothic at that? You're even more fluent than me."

"Tell me, why are you near my ship?"

Hill finally lost her temper. "Brother, I'm a demon! Is it strange that I can speak Gothic? How come you, a human, are more savage than me?"

Hill dared not utter these true thoughts, fearing he would anger the monster before him, and could only explain:

"I was born this way. So many human souls dissipate into the Sea of ​​Souls every day, it's normal for me to be able to speak, sir. As for why I came here, I just want to beg for food."

For the sake of his own life, Hill dared not hold back at all, wishing he had two more mouths.

"Then why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"I'm afraid of you."

Hill's answer puzzled Mordred. After exchanging a glance with Brian, he slowly approached the strange demon and continued to press for answers:
What are you afraid of me for?

"I'm afraid you'll eat me up, ah—."

Mordred's hand descended from the sky, pressing down on the demon's chest. With a heart-wrenching wail, half of Hill's torso turned into black smoke and disappeared into Mordred's body.

Thinking his father had been attacked, Brian roared and picked up his power sword to execute the demon on the spot, but Mordred stopped him.

"Father? Are you alright!"

“Good, I’ve never felt better, Brian. What was our legion called before?”

"The Soul Drinker." The company commander seemed to realize something, and the title was squeezed out from the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, it seems we can't become the light of humanity, but thankfully, it's all part of my plan."

　Last night, I was chatting with some friends in a group chat, and one reader said that the Corgi book was too similar to the previous one. We talked about it for a long time.

　　Actually, it wasn't just him; I felt it too, as if I was still living in the shadow of the previous book.

　　This made the Corgi-like dog brain fall into deep thought. Looking at the 12 chapters in the draft, I suddenly realized a question: What is the meaning of my writing this book?
　　If things continue like this, I can indeed earn royalties, but it will just be a remake of the previous book. I don't want that, after all, I'm not starving yet.

　　In any case, I won't allow myself to serve up a pre-made meal. I initially wrote the book to make myself happy and to let my good brothers taste a novel that was passable.

　　After much deliberation, I deleted those 12 chapters I had saved, and then I regretted it immediately (it hurt so much!).
　　That's why Corgis can stay up all night typing.

　　I read almost all the comments, and you can offer any suggestions you may have. Like this time, it really woke me up. (After all, how can I plagiarize if you don't comment? I have no qualms about it.)
　　That's all for now, I need to go get some breakfast. Welcome to join the group for discussion – the majestic, handsome, and incredibly cool Corgi.

　　"Croak~~~ I want to eat a big, thick fried dough stick!"

　　
　
(End of this chapter)