Daemon Dies for the Nation, the Garden is Burning

Pfft!

A Great Unclean One howled and collapsed to the ground, as did a veteran of the legion, but their attitudes were completely different.

His name was Gahrli Stolloff, a Space Wolves from Fenris. He was not a famous figure, nor did he possess the power of a Primarch. He was just an ordinary Astartes.

Stroeve joined the Expeditionary Force after the Great Commander issued his call to arms, arriving in a place that the Space Wolves had always mocked as Ambition, to fight a war that should not belong to the Space Wolves.

Like everyone else, the newly drafted Strofs were overjoyed. They Fealty to the Chapter, Fealty to the Primarch, and Fealty to the Master of Mankind known as the Emperor.

Fealty that is not absolute is absolute Fealty. This statement permeated Astartes' life and also Stollov's 729-year life.

But time heals all wounds. Stollov, who lived for 729 years, experienced much and witnessed various tragedies within the empire.

Xenos attacks, the encroachment of Chaos, and most importantly, human-caused disasters—all of this left Stollov feeling bewildered and even angry.

But every anger has a source, and Stollov couldn't find that source. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he fought, the empire was still the same empire.

A devastating cesspool, devoid of hope and future, where everything is slowly rotting away.

Stollov couldn't understand it. He was just a savage Space Wolves. The harsh cold of Fenris had tempered his will, but it hadn't provided him with the answers to his questions.

When Stollov took this question to the eldest brother, Bjorn, the elder did not answer his doubts. Instead, he told him and his other equally confused brothers about the past known as the Great Crusade.

Stollov seemed to understand, but understanding was also somewhat impossible; he had only vaguely grasped at a fleeting snowflake.

So Stollov left Fenris, left the Chapter, and became a wanderer to find the answer in his heart.

During this period, Stollov worked as a farmer and a laborer, experiencing all sorts of different worlds and people. He even served as a bodyguard for a group of Rogue Trader.

The marks of time were etched on Stollov, but the lone Space Wolves did not weaken; on the contrary, he became even more dangerous, simply because he had finally found the answer, the source of his anger.

The more you think, the more confused you become; the more confused you become, the more you fall into depravity. Only by abandoning illusions and preparing for battle can the glory of the Great Crusade be recreated.

The empire is sick, terminally ill, but not because of Xenos, Chaos, or countless natural disasters, but because of the human heart.

The newly established empire was quite weak, and even when facing some Xenos forces, the Emperor had to personally lead the expedition. However, in just two centuries, the empire's military might had reached the edge of the Milky Way.

It was a glorious era, and Stollov finally understood why the elders always reminisced about the past, and why the Chaos Warrior he executed were proud of the Great Crusade.

Because only in that era would an empire be so ambitious and willing to advance at any cost.

No cost matters; as long as the enemy can be eliminated, no amount of sacrifice can stop the Great Crusade.

The empire is sick, so sick that humanity has lost the courage to move forward at all costs, and Stollov can do nothing about it.

This is the Empire, a cesspool too large for any threat to destroy, a cesspool that anyone who tries to change it will find utterly hopeless.

Stollov didn't know why he was chosen by the Great Commander to join this adventuring fleet to the Chaos Realm. He was so ordinary, the only special thing about him was that he was a little bit stronger.

Many others shared the same thought; they arrived here in a daze and were chosen by Mordred in a similarly confused manner.

The dizziness caused by extreme blood loss struck instantly, and the aftereffects of Belisarius Furnace began to fade, leaving Stollov in complete darkness and even hallucinating that one after another, azure bird feathers were growing on his body.

He knew this was the Sus—an Membrane in effect, indicating he would fall into a deep sleep. However, the Sus—an Membrane were not a panacea; he had already had his limbs amputated below the chest, so the apparent death would become real death.

But seeing the Great Unclean One was thinking of escaping before he died, Stollov did not feel regret for the death, but rather felt a strange sense of pleasure.

The anthem of humanity is an anthem of courage. He may die, but after ten thousand years, humanity has finally fired the first shot again.

After him, more and more people will take up arms and enter the battlefield, using courage and honor to defeat these monsters and avenge the empire's millennia of suffering.

That courage to advance by any means necessary will eventually return; everything they did was worthwhile, even death, because hope remained!

In his final moments before his consciousness faded, Stollov saw the Golden Throne and the Master of Mankind had suffered for millennia.

"Your His Majesty, I can finally rest."

"Get lost! You think you can retire at your age? Get up and work overtime!"

A Psychic Power psionic attack descended from the sky, sending Stollov flying. Dark golden Burning Fiercely, accompanied by a grotesque bird cry, instantly burning away the blue feathers on his body and transforming him into a Legion of the Damned.

Looking around at his hands, now restored to their original state but reduced to bones, Stollov felt as if he were dreaming, and fell into a brief state of confusion.

Such a situation is constantly unfolding. After storming into Nurgle's Garden, this boarding fleet, composed of 130,000 Space Marine and 21.97 million Auxilia of various kinds, instantly suffered heavy casualties.

But death is not the end. Nurgle Daemon has its own Chaos God master, and human warriors also have their own Yellow Skins.

For Daemon, going to the Physical World is just a vacation; even if they get killed, they won't die. It's just like being banished back to the Warp.

With the balance of power shifting, the Empire was completely helpless. This was a meaningless war; our soldiers were being worn down bit by bit, while the Daemon legions seemed endless.

Don't think that Daemon are invincible. That's entirely because they can't die. On the contrary, they're terrified. They only roam around because they can't die in the Physical World.

But now the tide has turned! Humans have stormed into the Daemon' homeland and possess weapons Daemon enough to kill them.

Lightning flashed across the overcast sky, and blood mixed with putrid fluid fell from the sky, with corpses and warship wreckage falling intermittently.

The Living Saint soaring through the sky charged into battle, and more and more soldiers were resurrected from the dead, transforming into Legion of the Damned like Stollov.

Among them, the most dazzling Guilliman, who unleashed powerful Psychic Power and created a 130-kilometer-long death blast zone with a mere wave of his hand.

"Hahaha, awesome! You all fucking die! 990,000 horsepower of Psyker Rotation! Eat my God-Shattering Thunderclap Kiya!"

A storm of golden and blue lightning swept out, wantonly destroying everything in its path. Accompanied by Mordred's arrogant laughter, more and more Daemon were blasted into pieces.

Moreover, whenever a Daemon is beaten to its knees, an Atlas will immediately jump out from some unknown corner to pick up the corpse.

Other Chaos Demon armies even appeared on the battlefield.

Stollov was absolutely not mistaken; he had indeed become a skeleton, but his eyes were not blind. He could see the group of Bloodthirsty Demon surrounding the Lord Regent, the Lord of Change, and the Keeper of Secrets.

Unlike the crazy Daemon we usually see, these Daemons were quite docile, and even cooperated with Atlas.

The red-skinned brute stepped forward to hold the line, the Lord of Change cast spells from behind, the Cursed Legion's main damage dealers were on the offensive, the Keeper of Secrets assassinated from the middle, and Atlas looted the corpses and divided the spoils.

"Wait, who am I? Where am I? Why are you all so familiar with this?"

Wait, why would Atlas obey the Lord Regent's orders? Wasn't the Lord Regent incapable of using Psychic Power?

A bold conjecture surfaced in Stollov's mind, but it was so unorthodox that he quickly stopped pondering it, only sighing to himself, "A hidden dragon lurks in the abyss; truly Ambition!"

This was only one side of the battlefield, but even more terrifying was the group of Emperor Spirit that began to flash wildly and rush towards Nurgle's Garden.

The seemingly weak Emperor Spirit, capable of only catching mice and perhaps even less combat-effective than a goose, might choose to self-destruct if it possessed 1.69 million Emperor Spirit imbued with Emperor power.

Watching those yellow Big Rat, shouting "Yes, yes!" and raining down from the sky, crashing to the ground, Nurgle Daemon finally remembered the fear of the Cursed rising up during the Webway War.

This time, however, they had no allies. Those allies had betrayed them, and they would side with whoever won!

Thirteen seconds later, Nurgle's Garden caught fire.