An Old Friend's Gift

Brush!

It was as relaxing as instantly cleaning a filthy carpet that had been soiled for half a century. When the golden-red flame touched the tail, the stubborn slime suddenly became ethereal and nonexistent.

As the flames spread upwards, the leaping Nurgling and the Cultists and walkers charging at the forefront faced only the silent burning and complete annihilation of the flames.

"The Emperor's Blade will sweep away all filth!"

"Long live the Emperor! Praise the Emperor!!!"

"The Emperor insulted the devil! The Emperor is invincible!!!"

Seeing that Kasgar had easily burned all of Nurgle's army to ashes, the defenders on the city walls erupted in thunderous cheers!

The defenders considered Nurgle Daemon troublesome, and even dealing with the pus left on the battlefield after the war was extremely difficult—but under the power of the Emperor Incarnate, not a single trace of these demons was left behind!

The Nurgle Daemon would never have imagined, even in death, that what they faced would not be merely death, but utter annihilation from the world, leaving no trace.

"The Accursed!"

"The Accursed Flame!!!"

"Go back immediately!"

Amidst the chaotic wailing and screams, the Nurgle's Demon Army, which had been strolling merrily like a parade, was thrown into complete disarray—aside from mindless Plague Zombie, no demon would be unafraid of such a power to instantly erase its name.

Even the massive Great Unclean One, who resembled a mountain of flesh, upon seeing Kasgar's Psychic Flame, disregarded all martial ethics and tumbled off the rotting palanquin, falling flat on his face and scrambling to his feet.

--It even has a slightly comical quality to it.

But this only makes Kasgar want to burn all the filthy Nurgle Daemon to ashes.

"Deploy Titans, prepare for a counterattack!"

Immediately following Kasgar's command, countless mechanical cannons above his head unleashed a barrage of fire as if it were free.

The reason why Parmenio is valued by both sides and regarded as the key to the final battle is that the Titans' stronghold is the headquarters of the Adeptus Mechanicus located in Parmenio.

This place is home to the largest number of Titan Cult in Ultramar, and with their help, the current dispersed forces are only able to delay the attack if the Ultramarines manage to hold them off.

Without the protection of Star Fortress and the Adeptus Mechanicus's armed forces, the poorly defended world of Konor behind them will inevitably suffer annihilation under the corruption of Nurgle.

This is something the Ultramarines absolutely cannot allow: they must not let their homeland fall into the hands of such vile demons!

As Kasgar brandished his flaming longsword.

The Titans deployed in the frontline defense network were gradually activated by the incantations of their pilots and Tech-Priest.

Three and a half legions, one hundred and two towering War Machines, encompassing all models, the flames of Kasgar cleared large swaths of open ground untouched by Plague Zombie for them to enter the battlefield, allowing them to advance slowly and steadily.

In addition, tens of thousands of Missionaries awaited at the foot of the Titan, dressed in robes belonging to several different forging worlds of the Adeptus Mechanicus; red, ochre, white, black, and gray were all available.

Beside them stood three thousand War Machines from the Cybernetic Legion, neatly positioned outside the newly poured curtain wall, providing cover for the Titan legion's safe landing.

Logically, a cumbersome machine like the Titans shouldn't be able to move across the soft ground that had been transformed into a putrid swamp by the Nurgle —but the scorching Kasgar's Flame had restored the decaying land, once covered with withered trees and swamps, back to wasteland.

Every step forward by the divine machine was like a thunderclap.

Guided by the Emperor's Light, the defending troops, who had fallen into despair, regained their confidence to fight.

The vanguard consisted of tanks leading the way, along with burning and corrupted Kasgar, followed closely by infantry.

At the heart of the army, a large group of Otma super-heavy tanks were deployed in a formation directly commanded by the Second Captain (or more accurately, Loli-man, who was piloting the Second Captain).

With their sheer weight and engine power, a large number of machines forced their way through the mud that had not yet been completely cleansed by the flames, and the huge bulldozer blades leveled the still-resisting ground.

With loud screams and roars, the Nurgle vanguard was now fleeing in all directions in disarray.

Meanwhile, the army led by Kasgar was immune to all poisons under the protection of the Emperor's Fire—with their unwavering and hopeful faith, the corruption that once rusted even steel could no longer harm them in the slightest.

The Nurgle Daemon was no longer as composed and cheerful as before.

No matter how fierce the war before Kasgar, even if they were killed in the real world, the Nurgle Daemon could still return to the Warp and continue to laugh and play as the little elves and their companions beside their loving father in the lush Garden of Nurgle.

Can!

This flame, possessing the power to erase names, is clearly the power of the Accursed, the deluded False Emperor in human terms.

He lacks martial ethics!

It was clearly agreed that this was part of Great Game. Whether it was the Chaos Gods or the Emperor sitting on the Golden Throne, they would at most deploy some cursed troops, which would already be extremely unfair. How could they possibly intervene in the battle at this time?

Most likely, this crazy guy has jumped off the chessboard again, shouting, "I am a chess piece!"

"Run!"

"Hurry! Keep those Plague Zombie at bay! Hold them off!"

"Ahhhhhh--uh"

Overwhelmed by the terror of annihilation, Nurgle's front lines crumbled at the first touch of Kasgar's flames, giving him the opportunity to push the front line toward Nurgle.

"Continue the advance! Under the Emperor's Light, our troops will be invincible!"

Kasgar used his Psychic Power powers to spread his voice from the front lines to every corner.

After countless days of fierce fighting without achieving satisfactory results, people desperately need a decisive victory to help them regain their confidence.

Amidst the enthusiastic cheers of the Astra Militarum' Missionaries and Space Marine, Kasgar led his squad onward in their direction.

Even though the troops are advancing triumphantly, the actual battle has not yet begun.

Kasgar understood that although his first wave of burning Nurgle was very satisfying, not a single prominent Greater Daemon had appeared in the opposing camp.

He was not Guilliman after all, and at this time, the number of defenders on Parmenio was also slightly insufficient due to the threat of the swarm.

Under pressure, Kasgar must secure sufficient victories in this battle.

Nurgle excels at defense and counter-attacks.

If this drags on any longer, and they pollute the planet's environment, the longer the battle goes on, the more disadvantageous it will become.

Kasgar must seize this opportunity to kill one or two of the Great Unclean One in order to demoralize the enemy.

The real enemy lies behind these screaming, retreating, rotting carcasses, deep within the dark green miasma, where a mountain of...

Nurgle's chief Greater Daemon, [Father of Plagues] Ku'gath.

The Great Unclean One stand out like cranes among chickens among their servants.

As the Titans advanced, the Nurgle faction, with its ever-growing, bloated mountain of flesh, swayed toward the enemy.

Their obese, enormous bodies proudly display all forms of disease and decay.

At the center of the demon army was the chief Greater Daemon's plague guard.

They are the Royal Guard of Ku'gath, one of Nurgle's most powerful legions. Commanded by seven of the strongest Greater Daemon, the Plague Guard outnumbers any other legion by three and outguns by seven. They march through the nauseating swamp, their brass instruments wailing and their counting buzzing. From their putrid throats spew out absurd and gloomy, repetitive melodies.

Ku'gath's palanquin led the way among the howling demons. Around it were its six lieutenants: Septicus, beggar, bad throat, famine, black death, and stunted growth.

Compared to the previously nameless, expendable minions, they were clearly more resistant to the Kasgar's Flame —although the flames of the Kasgar covered the entire battlefield, enough to make the once lively and active Wall of Flesh listless and miserable, they were still able to maintain their rotten and foul-smelling forms.

The flames that were originally burning everything like wildfire could only be stalemated by the Plague Cauldron, a divine artifact that housed the power of the original Nurgle God, and its miasma.

No progress can be made.

"Haha, what an interesting experiment!"

"Your power is astonishing, but it does not come from the Accursed."

Sitting in the plague-stricken, stench-filled sedan chair, the Father of Plagues Ku'gath swayed his obese body, his small eyes beneath the rotting flesh slyly observing Kasgar and the flames enveloping him.

What was most extraordinary was the enormous Plague Cauldron he held in his hand—amidst the swirling, thick green liquid, the phantom of Garden of Nurgle seemed to seep into the real world.

As a gift from the Grandfather Nurgle, this cauldron was once used to boil forty-nine layers of deadly plagues. Each layer of plague was composed of forty-nine superimposed diseases. Even the strongest infected person would develop forty-nine lesions simultaneously when facing the merciful Father's plague, making their life worse than death.

The Great Unclean One reek of decay, yet their pockmarked faces hold eyes brimming with wicked wisdom. Decay and plague strengthen the offspring of the Nurgle.

The same cunning thoughts dwell within their decaying and rotten brains.

"He has flames! He's terrifying!"

"He will burn us, he will annihilate us!"

"Save us, Father! Save us!!!"

Screaming and bouncing like a pinball, Nurgling bounced back and forth on the bottles and jars on Father of Plagues's shoulder.

"Hahaha! Little one, don't be afraid, don't be afraid."

Ku'gath burst into laughter from both his upper and lower jaws. "I have no intention of making you pistachios disappear completely, my darlings."

In ordinary battles, the Father of Plagues would occasionally grab Nurgling that came near him and throw them into the crowd of people nearby.

These screaming bastards will smash themselves to pieces, then cover a large area of enemies with their filthy bodily fluids.

At that time, Ku'gath would patiently observe the infectious effects of Nurgling's death.

Whenever the plagues met Ku'gath's expectations, he would laugh like a proud father.

Of course, when faced with Kasgar's aggressive flames, he wouldn't throw his beloved little Nurgling out like that again.

After all, he himself had once been a little Nurgling before the Grandfather Nurgle.

"Prepare for utter annihilation, demon."

"My people, unleash the full force of our artillery!"

Although Kasgar now possesses Psychic Flame specifically designed to counter Chaos, he disperses the flames to cleanse the surrounding Nurgle corruption.

Now, the flames are concentrated in front of Ku'gath, burning scorchingly before the giant green cauldron that emits a thick miasma.

As if seizing this moment of weakened firepower, the numerous Death Guard Chaos Space Marine following behind the obese body of the Great Unclean One also emerged from the gaps in the Nurgle Daemon at the same time, firing cannons infused with the Corruption Virus at the Titan Legion.

The Death Guard's ranged attacks sent ripples of pale blue light across the Titan's Void Shield.

The battle between the two sides officially began at this moment, as their Psychic Flame and poisonous cauldrons collided.

Seeing this, the flames grew even more intense, spreading from Kasgar's arm toward the plague cauldron.

Despite being Nurgle's chief Greater Daemon, Ku'gath's strength remains formidable, and with the added power of his Chaos- specific Psychic Flame, even those with such abilities cannot rival him.

Kasgar must act swiftly.

A stalemate is the last thing he wants to see right now.

When facing the Nurgle's army, a stalemate means defeat.

They can drag you into the cesspool they know best, and then defeat you by rolling around in that cesspool, which they are most skilled at.

Just as Kasgar led the Ultramarines and Titan Cult to launch a counterattack against Nurgle outside the city.

The city of Parmenio was filled with an atmosphere of mixed piety and unease.

On the one hand, people believed in the power of the Emperor, and that under the guidance of the Emperor's Light, the Imperium of Man would be invincible.

"May the Emperor bless those souls who are faithful to him, and grant them a return to the Golden Throne after death."

"Praise the Emperor, praise His glory and virtue."

Since the Emperor's recent apparition, the Imperial Cult Church has been packed with people eager to join the faith—they gather in front of the church chanting the Emperor's name and reciting the words they learned from the priests to praise Emperor.

In this church packed with people, there seemed to be a missing pastor, who should have been there in the first place.

Matthieu.

Who exactly are you? What brings you to me?

In a secluded corner behind the church, he finally saw the unusually tall, thin, and pale man again.

The other person was wearing a linen hood and seemed to have been waiting for him there all along.

"You've come."

He nodded slightly to Matthieu.

"Who I am is not important—or rather, the moment you choose to keep the appointment, in your eyes I am the messenger sent by the Emperor to guide you; but if you decide to break the appointment, I am the demon sent by Chaos to tempt you—it's all up to you, isn't it?"

"No. But you are the Emperor's envoy, I know that, and I have seen you before."

Matthieu answered with the same unwavering conviction.

"Oh? Where is it?"

"He often appears in my dreams, and uses this to tell me prophecies."

"So what do you think?"

"His words contain wisdom I cannot comprehend," Matthieu said, his expression still devout. "My inability to understand them only proves that I need more ascetic practice."

As he spoke, Matthieu prepared to tighten the whip mechanism bindings on his body once more.

Ascetics like him often draw inspiration from the suffering of Emperor'.

"."

The tall, thin man fell silent, as if he wanted to say something, but he only sighed.

"Friend, what exactly do you want to tell me by calling me here?"

Even with his portable, small atonement machine operating at full power, Matthieu remained calm as he looked at the other person.

"You are very strong."

"That's right, and I believe it's a gift from the Emperor —he arranged the right places for us from the very beginning."

Matthieu, an ordinary pastor, was born with unimaginable, superhuman strength.

Matthieu chose to attribute it to the Emperor's blessing—only the Emperor possessed such power to bless him and make him understand his worth.

"Yet you still choose to pray in church. Why?"

"Your power could have been used on the front lines, fighting alongside others under the so-called Emperor's Light."

"This is the Emperor's decree."

"But if I am, as you believe, an emissary from the Emperor, then what if I tell you—that the Emperor denies being a god, just as Guilliman has always proclaimed?"

How do you face this reality?

"I will try to understand His will and use the rest of my life to comprehend His wisdom."

But he doesn't need your understanding.

"Um?"

"He is dead. He died completely ten thousand years ago, and will never return."

The tall, thin man slightly raised his mask, as if looking at the gray sky, which had never seen a good view since the invasion of Nurgle.

"You! No, this can't be true! You can't sway my heart with your words!"

"So what if it's true? So what if it's false?"

"Matthieu, have you ever considered that he might never want you to pin your future on dreamlike prophecies, meaningless suffering and prayers?"

"You--"

"Don't argue with me. I didn't come here to convince you, you charlatan."

"What was that for?"

"It's my own will. I calculated it myself."

The tall, thin man patted Matthieu on the shoulder.

"This is not your fault. Some things require a major setback, and a long period of reflection and self-evaluation under that setback, before you can understand them."

"As for now, I have an even more important task for you—to destroy the Cauldron of Plague."

Cauldron of Plague.

The artifact from the Chaos Gods is also the greatest nightmare of many defenders of the Extreme Star Zone.

Ordinary people like him will be corrupted simply by getting close to him.

But Matthieu believed in the Emperor's power.

"The Emperor Incarnate has set out. With His might, He will surely sweep away this filth—"

"No, he's not ready yet, at least not right now."

"No, I know there's another substance that can destroy it—"

"I need someone, she, who can destroy all the plague."

"We can make a bet: if I bet correctly, and the Cauldron of Plague is not destroyed by the Emperor's divine power as you say, then you will give it to the Emperor Incarnate."

"--A gift from an old friend."

As he spoke, he pulled out an extremely small parchment scroll.

A faint smile appeared on the chapped corners of his mouth beneath the respirator.

"Etc--"

Before Matthieu could ask any questions, the tall, thin figure vanished completely into the crowd, just like before, without a trace.

Finally, with some skepticism, Matthieu unfolded the crumpled parchment in his hand.

A name he seemed to have heard somewhere before was clearly written on it.

[Aqua Duna]