Humiliation 25

"You wish. I'll kill you," the Nurgle Demon roared. "I'll imprison your soul and give you a proper welcome with millions of Bacteriophages, so you'll understand what it means to wish you were dead."

"You think you can win?" Guilliman's tone was teasing. "By disgusting me to death with that revolting appearance of yours? That might actually have a slight chance."

"All right, the game is over, Daemon. Time to get down to business. What font do you like? In my mercy, I'll allow you to choose a font and language you prefer." Guilliman swung the Emperor's Sword. Terrifying power burst from his body, and the heavy blow severed the Nurgle Demon's weapon.

The flames of the Emperor's Sword terrified the Nurgle Demon, forcing it to retreat several steps. Guilliman stepped forward, the Emperor's Sword pointed at his opponent.

"Tell me your name, Daemon." Guilliman placed the Emperor's Sword against the Nurgle Demon's heart. "You'd better be respectful. Don't make me change my mind. Otherwise, I won't mind killing you. You know what this sword is, don't you? It will end you completely. Once I drive it into your body, you won't even be able to return to the Warp. You'll turn into brilliant, pure nothingness amid golden flames."

The Nurgle Demon stared at the burning Emperor's Sword, fear showing in its eyes.

It knew what it was—the weapon of the Anathema. It could utterly destroy a Daemon's soul.

(The Chaos Gods called the Emperor the Anathema.)

During the battle just now, quite a few lesser Daemons had had their very essence completely destroyed by this sword.

Seeing this, Gurlo tried to rush over and relieve the Nurgle Demon.

If that Daemon was killed, its plan would fail completely.

Grandfather's power would fade, the Warp storm would be calmed, and this world would not become the Garden of Nurgle.

"Your opponent is me, traitor."

Sicarius blocked it. His Power Sword collided with the other's battle axe, and the tremendous recoil made Sicarius's body tremble.

Gurlo was no better off. Its bloated body, so swollen that its Centurion Armor looked ready to burst apart, shook even more violently than Sicarius's.

The maggots on its body fell to the ground, while the flies clinging to the surface of its armor buzzed into the air, forming a dense black cloud.

A Space Marine beside them pulled the trigger of his Flamer. A torrent of fire surged forth, burning those flies into charred husks that fell to the ground and gave off a foul stench.

"Get lost!" Gurlo roared, swinging its Plague Axe at its opponent's head.

"I'll allow you to do that. You're so round, you must roll very fast." Sicarius parried the battle axe and continued to hold the enemy back, buying time for the Primarch.

Watching the Emperor's Sword slowly approach its heart, the Nurgle Demon finally chose to submit.

It did not want to die.

"I am Gath the Sluggish, Great Unclean One of Nurgle." The Nurgle Demon revealed its true name.

"A Great Unclean One? You're this small? Gath the Sluggish, you really are useless." Guilliman mocked.

Anger surged within Gath the Sluggish, but it could only endure it.

One day, it would take revenge.

This time, it had merely been careless and had not used all its power when entering the material universe.

Otherwise, it would never have been defeated so easily.

True names were a Daemon's weakness. As long as one controlled their true names, one could enslave or banish them.

However, there was one issue: a Daemon's true name could not be used casually.

Even ordinary people reciting such names could suffer Chaos corruption and become indescribable monsters.

Many similar incidents had occurred throughout Imperial history. Some people recited a Daemon's name, failed to control the Daemon, and instead became monsters themselves.

This was especially common among rogue Psykers.

The Ecclesiarchy, Inquisition, Grey Knights, and Officio Assassinorum all sealed away relevant knowledge of Chaos to prevent contamination.

Guilliman was a Primarch with Warp traits, and he also possessed the Cheat known as Dominion Power, which could turn humanity's faith into strength. Naturally, this posed no major problem for him.

Not only could he recite the other party's true name, he could even banish it with ease.

"Very good." Guilliman swung the Emperor's Sword, severing all four limbs of Gath the Sluggish. Then he carved "Useless—Gath the Sluggish" into its chest.

"You can roll back now. Remember to pass a message to Mortarion: I'll be coming for him. If he doesn't want me to find him, he should hide as soon as possible."

As Guilliman spoke, Gath the Sluggish, its limbs severed, felt an invisible force tugging at it.

The material universe was rejecting its existence.

"I'll return." Gath the Sluggish had wanted to say something threatening, but one look from Guilliman made it swallow the words. It feared that if it shouted, Guilliman would change his mind and kill it with a single strike.

The Nurgle Demon was banished back into the Warp.

"No!" Gurlo felt the Warp's power fading and cried out in despair.

The plan it had worked so hard on for so long had failed just like that. Gurlo could not accept it.

Having dealt with the Daemon, Guilliman turned toward Gurlo, who was fighting Sicarius.

He had his own plans for sending the Great Unclean One back. As for this leader of the traitors, there was no need to spare it.

Gurlo and Sicarius had been evenly matched.

But against a Primarch, it was instantly defeated in a single move.

The battle axe in its hand was split apart by the Emperor's Sword.

"Looks like this planet still belongs to the Imperium." With that, Guilliman drove his sword into Gurlo's chest, ending it completely.

The other Daemons were either banished or fled back into the Warp of their own accord.

If they stayed, they could not win anyway.

The Imperium had already gained the upper hand. Remaining would not change anything.

After all, even if Daemons could not be permanently killed by ordinary attacks,

once destroyed, they still had to wait in the Warp to be reborn.

The wait for rebirth was extremely long, and they also needed Grandfather Nurgle's permission.

Guilliman understood that killing that Great Unclean One would not have achieved much.

Nurgle could simply create more of them.

The most important thing now was to consolidate the Imperium and deal with the attacks of the traitor Primarchs.

The Chaos Gods were still restrained by the Emperor, and they were also fighting fiercely among themselves, so they were not yet too much of a problem.

Only if they realized that Guilliman was as great a threat as the Emperor would they join forces against him.

Otherwise, the gods would only target the Imperium incidentally while waging war against the other Chaos Gods.

Even if Guilliman had carved words to humiliate Nurgle, Nurgle would not open a portal just to fight Guilliman. If it did, the other Chaos Gods and the Emperor would probably raze its home.

The biggest problem now was those traitorous Space Marines and Primarchs.

Daemons could not freely enter and leave the material world. Only the various rituals and sacrifices of Cultists could grant them bodies to enter the material universe.

Only traitorous Space Marines could enter the material world whenever they wished.

Only those Primarchs had so much free time that they could devise all kinds of schemes against Guilliman.

If his memories were correct, Magnus, Fulgrim, and Mortarion were the three Primarchs who would make trouble for him.

It would be a good thing to flush these fellows out early. Otherwise, with the enemy in the dark and him in the light, things would be extremely unfavorable.

He was already outnumbered, and the enemy was hiding in the shadows. This war would be far too difficult.

"If my identity weren't so questionable, I'd have gone and found a few loyal Primarchs to work for me," Guilliman grumbled inwardly.

Lion El'Jonson, Primarch of the First Legion, the Emperor's foremost tool, and the one most likely to contend with Horus for the position of Warmaster, should be sleeping within the Tower of Angels—the Rock. Of course, it was also possible that temporal currents had sent him into the past or future.

What a useful tool. He could fight and take hits. If Guilliman dragged him over to serve as a target, the pressure on him would at least not be so great.

Vulkan, Primarch of the Eighteenth Legion, a Perpetual who could not die, should be on Nocturne. During the Beast Wars, he had been active for a time before ultimately perishing together with a Greenskin warlord.

Of course, given a Perpetual's immortal nature, Vulkan would not truly die. He would merely remain dead for a while before reviving. Even losing his body would not change that. He was practically a real-world Daemon.

The most likely place for Vulkan to be was Nocturne.

Unfortunately, Guilliman could not go looking for these Primarchs. At least, not before he had completely taken control of the situation.

Primarchs were unquestionably among the smartest humans.

Guilliman believed they would guess his identity, and then things would become complicated.

One could even say that beings such as the Dark Gods and the Emperor would guess his identity and discover the changes in him.

As for how long that would take, that was impossible to say.

In any case, before things got worse, taking control of the situation as quickly as possible was his best option.

Guilliman had no intention of gambling his life on the attitudes of the Emperor and the other Primarchs. If anything went wrong, he would be doomed beyond redemption—and humanity would be too.

Another civil war, and they would basically be finished.

The battle ended, and the soldiers cheered for victory.

The people of Sara Planet in particular wept tears of joy.

"Clear the battlefield. Execute every one of those traitors. Rescue the wounded. Check on the civilians, and have them send a representative to see me." Guilliman suppressed his thoughts and gave his orders.

Another friend sent a donation. That was such a long string of numbers that I can't remember it. Thanks to everyone for the donations and monthly ticket support. Five updates today, around twenty-five or twenty-six hundred words each. If you want five updates tomorrow too, brothers, throw in some recommendation tickets and monthly tickets as well.

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