After Ron successfully transformed Mortarion into the Lord of Hell's God-Chosen, he poured out another surge of faith.
That hellish Fel Energy spread outward with the other man at its center, extending into other regions in an unnatural manner.
It transcended time and space, rapidly spreading through the Warp to the corresponding individual Death Guard.
No matter where those Gene-Scions of the Death Lord were, they could hardly escape such corruption.
And they were even less able to refuse it.
"Poach them. Poach the whole department over!" Ron continued pouring out faith-imbued Fel Energy, corrupting them like mad.
He grew more and more practiced, and savored the thrill of being a Dark God to the fullest.
Back then, Grandfather Nurgle had used this very method to carry off the Death Guard, this core Adeptus Astartes legion of the Imperium, pot and all.
Now Ron had dug them back out from Nurgle's hands, and there were even quite a few more of them than before. Barely speaking, he had recovered the debt with principal and interest.
In Ron's vision, Dark Red Flame ignited on the bodies of those pus-dripping, mutated, foul-smelling Death Guard, burning away the plague-tainted Fel Energy and bacterial contamination.
"Merciful Father—"
Faced with the sudden corruption and changes, the Death Guard were somewhat at a loss.
They desperately tried to put out the flames on their bodies, but it had no effect whatsoever.
Hellfire did not merely touch the body; it delved deep into the soul. It was not something these Chaos Warriors could withstand.
"My Gene-Scions, you need not fear.
This is a precious blessing. It will burn away the poisonous mists and germs. From this day forth, we will be completely free of the Lord of Pestilence's enslavement and restraints."
Mortarion spoke thus, a trace of