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

Some time later…

Hades scratched his head as the shrill screams of children echoed through the air.

Oh, there was no danger—he was simply standing inside the first fully boarding school built in the Barbarus Star Ring.

Standing at the school gate, he took in the building's aesthetic: primarily bright bone-white, accented with elegant moss-green, adorned with simple Barbarus proverbs forming patterns around a central skull motif. 

That was the overall architectural style of the school.

If a Blood Angel, Ultramarine, or Emperor's Children Astartes were to visit, they'd probably say the place felt too oppressive, stagnant, or lacked any sense of sacredness.

But in truth, Hades—who had no sense of artistic design—had simply slapped the Death Guard's standard architectural plan onto the project.

If he had been left to come up with a school design himself, all he could recall were the prison-like schools from his past life.

Hades still remembered the bizarre moment when the Tech-Priest overseeing construction had asked him what kind of school he wanted, and the two of them had just stared at each other in awkward silence.

Whatever. As long as it was built and functional, it was a success!

Currently, the school housed 4,000 children of various ages, with 800 Barbarus adults employed to manage their daily lives. Each teacher was also assigned four servitors for assistance.

In terms of academic education, Hades had selected 100 so-called "highly educated individuals" from a group of fallen nobles to serve as instructors. 

He had carefully screened them, intending to test their performance before making any further decisions.

For physical training, he had hired 800 mortal auxiliaries from the Death Guard's ranks.

Some of these veterans were already quite old, while others suffered from injuries that prevented them from continuing frontline service—so Hades simply reassigned them to the school.

This also gave him an idea: these veterans could keep an eye on the aristocratic cast-offs as well. 

Conveniently, both groups spoke different dialects of Gothic—the nobles primarily spoke High Gothic, which most Barbarus locals couldn't understand.

Generally, mortal auxiliaries attached to an Astartes Legion displayed an exceptionally high level of loyalty to their Primarch and Legion.

And today, as part of his routine inspection—no, let's be honest, his excuse to slack off—Hades decided to take a walk around the school.

It had been over a month since the school began operating.

But… standing at the gates, listening to the chaotic chorus of children's screams and laughter, Hades had a bad feeling.

For context, due to Barbarus' unusual age demographics, all the students here were under twelve years old. Anyone over twelve was already considered an adult.

These kids had suddenly been thrown into an environment a thousand times better than what they were used to—where they were provided with plenty of food and drinking water, and more importantly, where they didn't have to work.

Previously, Barbarus children might have gathered in small groups in their villages, but the planet's toxic mists made it impossible for them to yell, run, or engage in too much oxygen-consuming physical activity.

Anyone who had ever interacted with a Barbarus native would describe them as silent and inert—like withered trees.

What they didn't know was that this was simply a survival habit formed from living in a poisoned atmosphere for generations.

With toxic air all around, speaking too much or moving excessively was obviously a terrible idea.

But now?

No more toxic fog.

Plenty of food.

No labor required.

A whole bunch of kids.

One month.

That was all it took for them to unleash their true nature.

Hades suddenly realized something was very wrong.

Listening to the chaotic screams beyond the gate, he took a deep breath and motioned for the servitors to open the doors.

The first thing that entered his vision was a massive playground, filled with a horde of wild, jumping Barbarus brats.

Children were screaming, laughing, or staying silent as they clambered up and down the various physical training structures. 

Hades stood there, dumbfounded, as he watched one kid jump directly off a five-meter-high climbing pole.

Elsewhere, a group of children was wielding those wooden-plug firing training guns, aiming at their peers who were scrambling over obstacle courses.

What the hell!?

Several kids got shot and went tumbling down!

Hades watched, frozen, as the fallen children hit the ground—only to immediately scramble back up and chase down the ones who had just shot them.

Nearby, mortal veterans—acting as instructors—were shouting in rough, heavily accented Barbarus dialects:

"Run! Don't be a coward!"

"Shoot him! Shoot him!"

"Hold your stock steady, brat!"

Further away, in an area designated as a poison gas training zone, a cluster of children was actively wrestling inside.

Holy—

Hades had only told the "teachers" to provide physical training, teach literacy, instill loyalty to the Imperium and the Legion, and most importantly—prevent fatalities or permanent injuries.

Beyond that, he had left them to freely develop their own teaching methods.

But now...

This was... just a little different from what Hades had imagined a school to be.

How should he put it? It had a certain... wild aesthetic.

In his limited stereotypes, schools in the Warhammer universe were supposed to be like those noble academies, right?

But clearly, the Death Guard had pioneered a far more primal educational approach.

Standing at the entrance, Hades felt completely lost.

Then, one sharp-eyed child spotted him.

A young boy, perched at the highest point of an obstacle, turned in his direction and let out a high-pitched scream—

"AAAAAHHHH!!!"

"It's a Death Guard lord!!!"

His piercing cry immediately drew the attention of every single child on the playground.

Some kids froze in place, others clumsily snapped into a stiff, formal Aquila salute.

But most of them—most of them—

Came charging at him all at once.

'AAAAHHHHH!!!'

Hades stood there, watching in horror as a swarm of tiny humans—most of them barely reaching his knees—came flooding toward him.

For the first time in his life, Hades felt genuine fear.

Did he still have time to escape?

From afar, the mortal veterans bellowed,

"Salute! Give the lord a salute!"

Instantly, the children surrounded Hades, their bright, curious eyes fixed on him.

Because they were still young—and because the Death Guard's presence on Barbarus had been relatively benevolent—none of them were afraid of the towering Astartes.

In fact, some of their own relatives were Death Guard themselves.

But they were curious.

Some of the children even tried to climb onto Hades. 

He had no choice but to scoop up one in each hand, while others clung to his shoulder pauldrons. 

A whole bunch had even settled onto his finely-crafted backpack.

"Lord, why are you so much bigger than the other grown-ups?"

"I eat a lot. A whole lot."

As he reassured the swarm of children clinging to him, Hades slowly shuffled his feet, trying to move forward.

Seeing that he was struggling, the veteran instructors stepped in. After catching Hades' pleading look, they began to herd the children away.

Reluctantly, the kids backed off, standing at a distance while still watching him longingly.

After exchanging a few words with the "physical education instructors"—who were really just the mortal veterans—Hades continued toward the academic section of the school.

This time, he was primarily here to check if those so-called "talents" sent by Malcador were actually doing their jobs.

Hmm…

But as soon as he stepped into the teaching area, the noise level did not drop in the slightest.

Hades entered the central control room and started checking the surveillance feeds.

In the largest classroom, Fuller was currently teaching High Gothic.

"This word means tax evasion!"

Once cheerful and confident, Fuller now looked utterly exhausted. 

He stood at the front of the classroom, shouting at the top of his lungs to control the unruly mob of children before him.

And these were the motivated ones. The kids who weren't interested in learning had already run off to the playground.

"TAX EVASION!"

The children still sitting in the classroom yelled back in unison.

Hades nearly lost it right then and there.

He blinked a few times, barely holding himself together, before switching to another feed.

This next classroom was filled with adult Barbarus natives. 

Most of them were nobles who had holed up here as if they were taking refuge, now tasked with teaching literacy to their own people.

Hmm… Teaching the adults first did seem like a reasonable approach.

Once class was over, Hades called Fuller outside.

Looking at the man, who was clearly on the brink of a breakdown, Hades found himself unable to even scold him.

"How are the lessons going?"

"They're fine, my lord. Everything is under control."

Fuller answered weakly but still forced out a greasy smile in an attempt to maintain professionalism.

"We're focusing on teaching the adults first, so they can, in turn, teach their own people."

In reality, only adult Barbarus natives had any hope of managing Barbarus children.

Compared to the veteran instructors—who would simply smack the kids whenever they got too rowdy—the nobles had met their true nemesis.

Completely illogical behavior.

A complete lack of comprehension of their words.

Fuller felt as if he had coughed up a mouthful of blood internally.

Hades paused for a moment.

"Can you actually keep these kids under control?"

Fuller forced out a bitter smile.

"My lord, if possible… please hire more Barbarus natives."

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