I Have Arrived

Amid blazing flames and dense fog, Sicarius and the other Loyalists strode out of the Drop Pods and joined the battle.

His Power Sword hissed as it swept through two Cultists, cutting them into pieces on the spot. Then he charged toward a Plague Warrior carrying a rusty Bolter.

The enemy tried to fire at him, but Sicarius dodged the shots.

Sicarius was a master swordsman, and his combat instincts ranked among the finest of the Ultramarines.

Empowered by his Power Armor, he crossed more than a hundred meters under enemy fire in mere seconds. As he closed in, he ducked beneath the enemy's battleaxe and slashed at its bloated abdomen with a backhand stroke.

The entire sequence was clean and decisive, without the slightest hesitation, carrying the pure beauty of slaughter.

The Plague Warrior looked down at the wound in its abdomen, disbelief appearing on its face. Before it could recover, Sicarius struck again.

This blow severed its head, which fell to the ground with its eyes wide open.

Deprived of its head, the Plague Warrior's massive body collapsed with a dull thud.

Foul pus flowed from the wound as maggots writhed and struggled within it.

Sicarius held a Bolter in his other hand and pulled the trigger continuously. Bolter rounds burning with vengeance struck another traitor in the chest.

The outdated armor of that Plague Warrior burst apart, spraying foul pus and flesh mixed with maggots everywhere.

Its flesh-grown Chainsword fell to the ground. The eye set into its hilt showed terror, while its grotesque mouth let out a silent scream. Without its host, the Daemon dwelling within it would slowly die as well.

Sicarius and the other warriors charged toward the artillery position.

"For the Lord of Ultramar!" Sicarius shouted, firing his Bolter again and again at the artillery pieces and Plagueburst Crawlers.

"For the Lord of Ultramar!"

"For the Emperor! For Guilliman!"

The other warriors joined in with battle cries.

Their Bolter rounds blasted the artillery apart, and the powerful impacts detonated shells or power modules within the gun barrels.

The explosions then set off the shells and energy blocks stored nearby, triggering a chain reaction that created an even more terrifying Sea of Fire and a series of explosions.

The Plagueburst Crawlers that had not been torn apart by direct hits were swiftly swallowed by the flames, screaming from within.

Before long, the enemy artillery position had become a smoking ruin.

"Primary objective complete. Execute the secondary objective now. Eliminate them, then attack from the enemy's rear and support my lord," Sicarius transmitted.

There were not many Plague Warriors left behind. Most were Cultists deceived by Chaos, along with cowards who had sold their souls to the enemy just to live a few more days.

The Cultists carried all manner of weapons and rushed at the Space Marines in groups. Every face bore the marks of Chaos and twisted tattoos.

Sicarius showed no mercy. He wielded his Power Sword and killed every enemy daring to oppose him.

Whether mortal or Plague Warrior, all were cut down cleanly and decisively.

The servants of Chaos fell one after another, their fragile bodies shredded apart by Sicarius and the other Space Marines' Bolt Pistols and Power Weapons.

More fearless Cultists, beguiled by Chaos, poured in from every direction.

Their reinforcements came with astonishing speed.

Yet Sicarius and the others showed no fear. Before long, the battlefield had become a bloody mess, strewn with severed limbs and splattered flesh.

Even his azure Power Armor was completely covered in blood.

The Loyalists worked together and advanced steadily, forming overlapping fields of fire that killed every enemy attempting to resist them.

Soon, the bravest servants of Chaos had all died. Only a few still lunged desperately at the Space Marines, while most dropped to their knees and begged for forgiveness.

"Please, I only wanted to live."

A woman knelt on blood-soaked ground, pleading with the Angel of the Emperor before her.

"There is never forgiveness for Chaos. Even dying twice is better than betraying the Emperor. You made the wrong choice. Your bodies will be erased, and your souls cast into exile. Die, shameless traitors."

Sicarius pulled the trigger, and the muzzle flash of the Bolter flickered past.

The woman before him was reduced to a heap of mangled flesh by the enormous impact of the Bolter round.

Any mercy shown to Chaos traitors was an insult to the Loyalists who had died.

The other servants of Chaos kneeling on the ground met the same fate. The Space Marines either fired their Bolt Pistols or struck the traitors with their Iron Fists and Power Weapons.

Before long, only bright red bloodstains and shattered corpses remained where the traitors had knelt.

With the artillery position lost, the Plague Warriors no longer had anti-air firepower.

Stormbirds, Thunderhawks, and other aircraft suited for battlefield operations were deployed as well. They swiftly tore through the plague clouds, descended toward the surface to begin their bombing runs, and deployed Space Marines.

Dreadnoughts, Heavy Tanks, Knight Titans, and Emperor Titans were also thrown into battle. Even more terrifying firepower poured forth, and the Plague Warriors had no way to resist.

The Space Marines led by Guilliman swiftly turned the tide of battle, and the scales of victory tipped toward humanity.

Elsewhere, the Plague Warriors, Cultists, and traitors who had entered the fortress were carrying out their final slaughter.

Gurlo stood silently amid the fortress ruins like a bloated statue.

Plague flies fat with flesh covered its armor. As it moved, the disturbed flies buzzed loudly.

Before it lay heaps of corpses, covered by swarms of flies.

Its lieutenant was pouring out a special plague liquid to invoke the power of Nurgle.

Gurlo looked toward the humans screaming in Despair in the distance and smiled. "Just a little more. The ritual in the Warp is nearly complete. Guilliman will discover that there is nothing he can do. This planet belongs to Grandfather Nurgle, and so do those selfish souls."

"Protect the civilians! Get them moving west!" Dzansk shouted. His personal guard fired Carbines and Burst Guns at the enemy, killing the Plague Zombies.

Even with the defensive line breached, Dzansk had prepared himself for death. But rather than give up and launch a suicidal attack, he did his best to protect the civilians and help them escape.

Several hundred men and women dressed in tattered, filthy Imperial Guard uniforms gathered around his position, resisting the enemy with all their strength.

Their skin was pale as wax, while plague and war had left wounds and scars across their bodies.

Every one of them knew that even if they did not die on the battlefield, they would eventually die painfully from lingering aftereffects.

Yet their faces remained resolute. Even knowing that death was near, they showed no fear.

"Praise Him."

In the midst of battle, a voice filled with pain and release rang out across the chaotic battlefield.

A female soldier who had been knocked down by Plague Zombies offered her final prayer as she pulled the pin from a High-Energy Grenade.

The thunderous explosion instantly swallowed every zombie and traitor within a dozen meters.

Countless chunks of flesh splattered through the air, as though a rain of blood had fallen.

May you rest in peace. May the Emperor have mercy on your soul, Dzansk silently prayed. His Las-pistol continued firing at the plague-ridden corpses and Cultists trying to rush toward him.

As he fired, he kept retreating.

"No!"

"Run, Andy! Run like you used to! Run like the wind!"

A child's terrified cries mingled with an old man's anguished voice and reached Dzansk's ears.

Following the sound, Dzansk saw an elderly man desperately clinging to a Cultist's leg. Beside him lay a little boy with his skull smashed open, sprawled in a pool of blood.

A little girl stumbled forward while crying.

"Damn beast!" Furious, Dzansk swung his gun toward the Cultist and fired. At the same time, he ran over and scooped up the little girl.

Dzansk did not know why he had done it. He knew perfectly well that even if he saved the girl, he would only be prolonging her suffering.

Boom!

An explosion rang out, and the bodies of the two soldiers beside Dzansk burst apart.

Two Plague Warriors appeared on the battlefield, their Bolters harvesting the lives of the surviving soldiers.

As the Emperor's former Angels, their combat power was beyond question. Ordinary people could only be slaughtered before them.

Accompanied by heavy footsteps, a Dreadnought infected by plague flesh emerged behind the two Plague Warriors and followed close behind them.

Dzansk watched the Plague Warriors and the Flesh Dreadnought advance toward what remained of his soldiers, Despair appearing on his face.

His troops had no chance of stopping these terrifying monsters.

Plague Warrior: "Foolish servants of the Corpse Emperor, receive Grandfather's gift."

"Huh?"

Before it could finish speaking, the Plague Warrior unexpectedly noticed a dark shadow on the ground, rapidly expanding.

Confused, it looked up, and its pupils instantly widened.

A giant holding a burning golden sword descended from the sky and brought the blade down upon it.

Before it could react, the blazing golden sword split it apart from head to toe.

"I have arrived!" the giant roared, his voice clearly audible across the entire battlefield.

Brothers, the recommendation push starts on the seventeenth, so please do not binge-read. If you do, it will ruin the stats.

This is already a niche story. Without a few recommendations, it will die even faster.

Since it gets recommended on the seventeenth, there will be one more chapter. Three updates a day guaranteed.

For every fifty monthly votes, there will be an extra update. Every hundred recommendation votes will also earn an extra update.

As long as I can make a living, updating ten to twenty thousand words a day will not be a problem.