Ultramar sub-sector, Wester system.
Void fluctuations.
The Death Lord's vehicle, the Death Guard's flagship, the Endurance, arrived in this airspace and continued to release poisonous gas.
Along with them came more Nurgle fleets, and plague arks hundreds of kilometers long swayed in the void.
Inside the bridge.
Mortarion looked at the falling galaxy with a calm gaze.
During this period of time, he placed all the corruption machines in this area, building a dense corruption network, and the core node was hidden deep in West.
It became the hiding place of the first favorite Ku'gath, where he brewed the divine plague.
But now, the Regent and the Savior have noticed this place and are coming here with great momentum, trying to destroy the great cause of the loving father.
In order to stop the two Primarchs, he had to mobilize all the Nurgle troops he could and build a new line of defense.
To buy more time.
Fortunately, this is not a big problem. I originally wanted to lure the Primarch here to carry out the final assassination plan.
Now it's just a little bit earlier.
"My Lord Death, what do you want from me now?"
Kugath said sullenly, "Be patient, the plague will be over soon. Wait another three days, three hours, thirty-three minutes, and three seconds, and it will appear in this world.
Yes, faster than you think."
"Praise the Father..."
Mortarion was delighted upon hearing this. "Even fate is favoring us. It seems they arrived just in time and cleverly stepped into a death trap!"
Thousands of years of planning are about to succeed, and the joy of harvest envelopes the Lord of Death.
Three days, just three days.
He would be able to obtain the coveted divine plague, end his brother's life, and usher in the victory of the great cause!
Mortarion looked at West in the distance, as if he had already won.
He mobilized all his troops and built a defense line in this galaxy.
Even if you close your eyes and guard it, it shouldn't be impossible to fail for three days, right?
He could even imagine a wonderful scene:
Guilliman watched helplessly as trillions of Ultramar's people perished, wailing in agony under the venom of his own divine plague, and then died completely, turning into cold corpses.
Mortarion thought proudly:
"Hypocritical Corpse King, I wonder if you feel regret and pain when you see your own child die at my hands?"
He decided to record the Primarch's death and send it to Holy Terra and more territories of the Imperium.
It would be even better if the Corpse King could see it with his own eyes.
I want to let all the existence in the empire know that hope is dead and light is no longer there!
boom--
Just as Mortarion was enjoying the joy of impending victory, the Fortitude was suddenly attacked by artillery fire.
That was an attack from the Macragge's Glory.
"Motarion, your end has come!"
Imperial Regent Guilliman sent a communication, his voice full of determination and confidence.
Mortarion disagreed:
"My brother, there is no need to bluff. You have neither time nor a sufficient army.
You can't do anything to me, my army, or even my carefully constructed defenses. You can only watch Ultramar fall into destruction!"
"Yeah?"
Guilliman's voice was filled with a hint of sarcasm. "My forces alone are insufficient, but my brothers have arrived, and more are arriving as well."
As soon as the words fell.
Alarms rang out one after another in the bridge of the Endurance, which were urgent military reports from various fronts.
In mid-air, the star map representing the Wester galaxy lit up with red dots one after another, each representing an enemy fleet.
Soon, the star map was filled with red dots. Densely packed red dots surrounded the galaxy, coming from all directions.
For a time, all fronts were attacked fiercely, and some defense lines were even broken!
"No...how is this possible?"
Mortarion didn't bother to respond, but browsed the battle report sent back. The number of enemies was beyond his imagination!
In addition to the fleets of the Regent and the Savior, there are also Chaos armies such as Khorne Demons, Tzeentch Demons, as well as alien armies such as Greenskins, Tyranids, Eldar, and Undead.
The armies that had been vaguely appearing in previous intelligence reports and whose whereabouts were elusive actually appeared in Wester at the same time, and were joining forces to attack Nurgle's army!
Khorne Daemons fought alongside Tzeentch Daemons and destroyed a Plague Ark.
The greenskins cooperated with the Tyranids to devour a large fortress occupied by Nurgle and rescued the prisoners?
The Eldar and the Necrons worked together to destroy a Chaos warband, the Tau aliens served as the vanguard death squad to charge for the savior, and the Ark of the Legion of Terror was invading?
Mortarion trembled all over. The words on the battle report were so cold and unfamiliar.
He was a little dazed.
Could it be that when I was traveling in the subspace, some kind of time disorder occurred, causing the world to change?
What era is this? Is this still the Milky Way? Why are all races suddenly united?!
"My Lord, what should we do?"
The Death Guard's Chief Think Tank was a little panicked. Apparently, all this was beyond his comprehension: "All fronts are now under attack, and we are requesting support.
There are too many Imperial, Chaos, and Xenos armies!"
Mortarion's head was spinning, and he tried to maintain his composure.
"Tell… tell Typhus, the Great Plague, the Black Death, the Famine, the Bad Throat, and the Dwarf that reinforcements will arrive soon, and they must hold the line for three days at all costs.
This is a death order, for the great cause of my loving father..."
"yes!"
The Death Guard's chief think tank nodded and immediately sent out more than ten psychic messages.
Mortarion breathed heavily, panting against his giant scythe, trying to calm his chaotic thoughts.
He could not accept the failure of a plan that he had carefully prepared for thousands of years, which would cause him to completely lose the favor of his loving father, Nurgle.
Not long after.
The Death Lord looked at the grim-faced Chief Think Tank who had ended the connection and had a bad feeling in his heart: "What happened? Did Typhus refuse my order?"
He was somewhat worried that the rebellious gene offspring would disobey his orders at this time.
That would be an unbearable betrayal.
"Lord Typhus can no longer respond to us."
There was a trace of sadness in the eyes of the Death Guard's Chief Librarian: "A day ago, he led the personal guard champion and seven Nurgle demons to attack the Savior, but was ambushed by the enemy.
He was brutally besieged and annihilated by the Dark Prince, the Greenskin Warlord Steelfang, the Grey Knights, and warriors of the Ordo Xenos.
The Champion of the Royal Guards only managed to recover half of Lord Typhus' lifeless body…"
"What?!"
Mortarion's eyes went dark, and he felt an indescribable sadness in his heart.
His disgusting rebellious gene offspring died, and the way he died was so... unbelievable.
Typhus was besieged by Chaos Daemons, Dark Princes, Greenskins, Grey Knights, and Xenos Inquisitors. How did these words fit together?
Doesn't the empire care?
However, before he could digest this sad information, the Chief Think Tank reported new news: "There is also the Great Plague, that beloved of Nurgle..."
"What happened to him?"
Mortarion asked, the Great Plague was also responsible for an important line of defense, and no problems could occur again.
"The Great Plague and the Demon Guards were devoured by a group of bizarre Tyranids, leaving not even a skeleton behind. It is said that the Savior's Sons of Man Legion also appeared with the Tyranids.
They also prey on Nurgle daemons..."
ah?
Mortarion's eyes widened, and he was almost speechless. His long-held worldview was repeatedly crushed in a short period of time.
Not only him, all the Death Guards in the bridge hall fell into deathly silence.
Crazy, is Galaxy crazy? ! !
Originally, the Chaos Demons were chaotic and crazy, but now the Savior's army and those aliens have become doubly crazy.
This makes the Fallen Primarch and his warriors seem a bit conservative.
Mortarion's hands were shaking, his breathing was harsh, and poisonous gas was oozing out of his ugly mask.
He tried to digest this weird, crazy information and tried to find a way to deal with it.
Typhus's line had been lost, and so too had the line of defence against the Great Plague.
Two important lines of defense have been breached by the enemy, and he was also blocked by the Regent. It is estimated that the other lines of defense will not be able to hold for long.
His own Nurgle army and grand plan are accelerating towards failure.
"It's not hopeless yet, we still have reinforcements!"
Mortarion took a deep breath, somewhat glad for his caution. Before the Nurgle army gathered in the Wester galaxy, he asked Nurgle's kind father for several powerful armies.
They had already set out from the Garden of Nurgle.
But before he could calm down, the latest news from the think tanks shattered his expectations:
"Nurgle's reinforcements had just set out from the garden when they were intercepted by the supreme bloodthirsty demon Kabanha and were completely annihilated!"
It's bad, it's all directed at me!
For a moment, Mortarion felt helpless, as if he were against the world, mixed with uncontrollable rage.
That fate had forsaken him, the beloved son of the Death Lord and the benevolent father of Nurgle.
puff!
He was so angry that he spat out a mouthful of thick, burning blood and fell down in a dizzying situation.
Because of the mask, the blood blurred the original body's twisted and rotten face, making it look particularly sad and terrifying.
"grown ups!"
The chief think tank of the Death Guard quickly used his psychic power to support his genetic father, the Lord of Death, feeling extremely worried.
"I'm... fine."
Mortarion stopped falling in mid-air and slowly floated up. He was not as fragile as a mortal who would faint.
He made some kind of decision, his voice weak:
"Issue new orders. Have all troops shrink their defenses and deploy elite warriors to Wester. We must ensure the successful arrival of the Divine Plague at all costs..."
That was his only chance to fight back, and it would only take three days.
Even if it means sacrificing more troops, we must defend West!
This is not hopeless, as due to the dense corruption machines hidden on Wester, orbital strikes cannot affect the space where Ku'Gath is hiding.
It is enough to hold the ground defense line, but it requires more sacrifices.
"For the great cause of my loving father, it's all worth it."
Mortarion thought so.
He looked at the Death Guard champions around him and said, "Go, follow me to West and redeem this with your life!"
…
The Heart of Fear advanced amidst the roar of artillery fire, gradually approaching the planet Wester.
Ron sat on the dark throne, and the demonic flames on the Dark Prince's body became even more intense, emitting a deterrent demonic power.
That meant the Legion of Terror spread more fear during the war, and his power grew.
He looked down at his subordinates in the hall.
Now, the hall is full of demons dancing in disorder:
The ferocious demon chicken thief, the steel-toothed green-skinned warlord, the high-level Tyranid leader, the dark thunder guard, the chaos fear warrior and the somewhat shy Tau Ether Commander in the corner.
We are all family.
Baji, baji.
A cruel and terrifying chewing sound was heard, as if countless sharp teeth were peeling off the skin and bones, and foul-smelling pus splashed everywhere.
This time, Commander Detai retreated further away.
"Ah, Lao Ba..."
Ron frowned.
He stared at the high-ranking Tyranid leader who was happily gnawing on the ground downstairs, having pulled out half a live Nurgle demon at some point, and scolded him:
"Can you eat less and pay attention to the occasion?"
What's the difference between this and eating shit in public, and it's still fresh.
More than ten years ago, Ron obtained a complete hive mothership and captured and trained a special little worker insect, Abathur.
Now he has become a high-level Tyranid genetic engineer, and has transformed and bred a group of Tyranids with special tastes who like to devour Nurgle demons.
The high-level Tyranid leader in front of him, named Lao Ba, is the command core of the Zerg fleet.
squeak--
The Tyranid leader, Lao Ba, felt the suppression from the psychic network and genes. The Blade Wings and the Lord of the Hive were scolding him!
He hurriedly put away the half of the fresh, still moving Nurgle demon.
The little eyes looked towards the throne in fear and became extremely honest.
Ron stopped blaming Lao Ba and shifted his attention to the battlefield star map in the air.
The situation on all fronts is now very good, and the Heart of Terror is rapidly approaching Wester under the cover of the Eldar and Necrons fleets.
The next goal is to reach the surface of the planet, find the hidden plague factory, and resolve the threat of the divine plague.
Moreover, the new black oil man of the Demon Research Institute, the great sage Mao, also unexpectedly sent a new request, prompting him to temporarily change his plan.
Perhaps he could achieve more results through the Battle of West.
Ron stared at his subordinates below the throne with his scarlet eyes: "Go, prepare for ground combat!"
…
Wester, Heka Harbor.
Major Ward of the 97th Cowes Regiment lay prone on the sandbags of the outpost, using an electronic telescope to observe the fog on the coastline. He could faintly hear the sound of dark blue water hitting the breakwater.
Fortunately, there is no sign of the Plague Abomination attacking yet.
He subconsciously looked up at the sky again, and his breathing suddenly became heavy. The damp and dirty air in the full-face breathing mask became even more unpleasant.
Ward's dull voice penetrated the mask: "Emperor, perhaps the end of Heka Port is approaching..."
Wester, the capital of this fringe galaxy, is the major's hometown. It has vast plains and beautiful coastlines, and not much industrial pollution.
More importantly, it's located in Ultramar.
Although it is not very developed and has little presence, it is at least under the protection of the Imperial Regent and the Ultramarines.
The local imperial subjects lived and worked in peace and contentment and were able to afford the corresponding taxes.
However, the coming of the Plague Abomination almost destroyed everything, setting off a fierce war in Ultramar, and Wester was also in danger.
The capital of this marginal galaxy was invaded by a plague, and one-third of the continent fell, turning into a living hell.
Fortunately, the local army held the line and was in a long stalemate with the invading plague abomination.
There is certainly a lot of suffering here, and hundreds of thousands of people die every day.
But judging from the overall situation in Ultramar, the war on Wester was insignificant. The invading plague army was so small that it would not even be recorded in the core battle reports.
Almost no one pays attention to this unimportant marginal area, nor can they care about it.
But in just a few weeks, the situation here changed dramatically, and a massive fleet of plague abominations poured into this galaxy with only a few planets.
Even the Regent and the Savior are coming.
Ward adjusted the magnification of the telescope, his heart trembling.
This was not the first time he had looked into West's airspace, but every observation was terrifying.
Because he could no longer see any starry sky, instead there were warships covering the sky, some human, some Chaos, and some alien.
It seemed as if the entire Ultramar army had gathered here. The constant bursts of shipborne artillery and exploding hulls completely lit up the sky of West.
It loses the night.
That means Wester has become the core of this war, and the Empire, Chaos, and more armies are fighting for control here at all costs!
Ward couldn't figure out why this happened, and his superiors didn't reveal any relevant information, but only ordered him to hold the line.
But he knew clearly that it was no longer important whether the line of defense he was responsible for could be held or not.
They become insignificant in the midst of an apocalyptic war of this magnitude, and the aftermath of any conflict could potentially kill everyone and even destroy the planet.
"West is like a small dinghy in the ocean. The storm has already begun, and the people of this planet have long lost control of their own destiny.
It could capsize at any time..."
Ward thought so.
Although he was afraid and terrified, he had no intention of retreating and was determined to hold the line at any cost.
Because it concerns the lives of the 97th Regiment of Calth and tens of millions of people in the port city of Heka. Even though they are insignificant, they will not receive any attention.
He wants to protect his home, even at the cost of his life!
Suddenly, Ward noticed the flames falling from the sky and immediately roared into the communication channel: "Everyone, find shelter! The tsunami is coming again!"
The circular wreckage of the Titanium alien warship was attracted by gravity and crashed into the sea in the distance while burning.
boom--
The violent collision created high waves that rushed towards the defense line, and the impact flooded many low-lying areas.
Some unlucky soldiers were even swept away.
Ward struggled to get up from the mud, and the polluted air in his mask had a hint of salty smell.
He realized that there was a hole in his protective suit, which was very dangerous.
However, before he could react and make repairs, the sergeant's cry came over the communication channel:
"Sir, the abominable zombies are attacking again. No, there are also... demons and heretic warriors. There are too many enemies!"
The major's heart immediately tightened and he looked towards the coast. He didn't know when plague zombies began to crawl out of the mud.
Along with the Plague Zombies, there are also many Nurgle Space Marines.
In the bay farther away, tall demons stood up one after another, their ugly, pus-oozing bodies polluting large areas of the sea water.
This is just one direction; heretical and hateful armies also appeared in other directions.
The army of Nurgle has entered Wester on a large scale, and the number is terrifying!
Accompanied by an alarm.
The whistling poison gas bombs hit the checkpoint not far away. Thick yellow smoke filled the air, and the sounds of soldiers vomiting and wailing in pain could be heard.
Looking at this scene, he suddenly felt despair. That was a terrible enemy that no mortal army could resist