I'll Give Him Some Fancy Cuts
They rushed towards Ignatius like hungry wolves.
The scene was so spectacular that Eldar civilians hiding in the distance couldn't help but poke their heads out to take a look, and then retracted their heads.
Too cruel.
Ignatius's pupils suddenly contracted.
His brain completed the judgment of the situation in 0.3 seconds - he couldn't run, he couldn't fight, and begging for mercy was useless.
He opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but a Power Fist was already stuck on his face.
"Crack!"
The sound was as clear and crisp as a New Year's bell.
Ignatius's body rotated 720 degrees in the air, and then hit the ground heavily.
Before he could get up, seven or eight blue figures were already pressing on him.
"I will obey the will of Emperor!" Sergius shouted while waving his fist.
"Feel the passion between our brothers, brother!"
His fist came down and hit Ignatius on the right face with the force of "making you talk too much".
"My hot iron fist will be branded fiercely on your right cheek!"
Cornelius kicked Ignatius on the butt, and the sole of Power Armour's boot left a deep shoe mark on Ignatius's hip armor.
"My sturdy power walking armor will have an unprecedented intimate contact with your ass!"
Another soldier rushed forward and grabbed Ignatius's neck with such force that it seemed like he was trying to twist his head off his shoulders.
"Hail to our brotherhood!"
Ignatius's face was pressed into the rubble of the ruins, his Power Armour was covered with footprints and fist prints, his helmet flew to no one knows where, and his hair was crumpled into a bird's nest.
He struggled like a fish pinned to the chopping board, but his struggle was meaningless - because what was pressing on him was a group of Ultramarines that were as strong as him, and their number was dozens of times his.
"My enthusiastic horse!" His voice came out from the cracks in the gravel, and it was unclear, but the angry emotion was clearly conveyed to everyone.
"You dare to curse?" Valentinus's voice came from above. He stood aside with his hands on his hips, and the golden flame was still burning on him.
"Keep fighting!"
The fist fell again.
Fists like raindrops.
"I was wrong! I was wrong!" Ignatius finally found a moment to breathe and shouted loudly.
"I will never call Emperor a heretic again!"
The fist stopped for half a second.
Then it fell down again.
More fierce than before.
"I was wrong! I was really wrong!" Ignatius's voice was filled with tears.
"You are still fighting? Do you want me to say that Gene-Father is a heretic?"
Valentinus's eyes lit up.
That's the light when a hunter spots his prey.
"It's still too little!" His voice was full of excitement.
"Hit me hard! I'll hit him with a flower knife again!"
The Chaos fog of Warp is completely split here. There is no distorted roar, no dirty Whisper, and no ubiquitous ripples of madness trying to erode the mind.
In front of you is a piece of eternal tranquility Garden of Nurgle.
It is suspended in a pure Psionic Energy halo. The halo is a soft golden white, just like the morning sun penetrating the morning fog. It is not dazzling, but it carries a sacredness that cannot be blasphemed, completely isolating this space from all the darkness and chaos of the outside world.
There is no earthly soil in Garden of Nurgle. There is a light ground as warm as jade under your feet. There is no sound when you step on it, but you can feel the stability coming from the depths of your soul, as if you are at the origin of all things, and all restlessness and uneasiness are quietly smoothed away.
Garden of Nurgle is dotted with wonders that symbolize the essence of Eldar Gods. Every scene is the embodiment of the authority and divinity of the gods, but they blend with each other and are as harmonious as a natural unity, without any conflict or disharmony.
What represents art is the patchwork of light trees swaying in the wind.
The trunk is a clear glass color, and the branches are winding and stretched, with graceful postures like the arms of a dancer. What grows on the branches are not ordinary leaves, but pieces of Psionic Energy scrolls with flowing colorful halos, as thin as cicada wings.
The epics, myths, songs, dances and creations of Ancient Eldar are constantly emerging on the scrolls. Each picture is exquisite to the extreme. With the flow of light and shadow, people can feel the emotions and beauty that span time carried by art. It is the most brilliant romance and poetry of Eldar civilization.
Representing forging are the Wraithbone buildings standing on the west side of Garden of Nurgle.
The building does not have the coldness of steel, but instead has a warm luster. The lines are tough but not sharp. The roof is in the shape of a furnace, and the air is filled with a light and refreshing breath, like the tempered metal of stars.
Scattered next to the building are stone carvings of various shapes, some are forging hammers, some are sword blades, and some are exquisite parts. Each piece is completely natural without any trace of carving, but it fully demonstrates the ingenuity and power of the God of Forging, which is the essence of creation and tempering, and the great power that turns nothingness into reality.
What represents wine and joy is a sea of flowers surrounding a clear spring.
The shapes of the flowers are all kinds of strange, and the colors are so gorgeous that it is difficult to describe in words. The red is warm, the blue is clear, the purple is mysterious, and the yellow is bright. The dewdrops condensed on the petals are amber spiritual brew, exuding a sweet and mellow aroma. Inhaling it will make people feel comfortable physically and mentally, and the corners of the mouth will unconsciously evoke a smile.
There are tiny light butterflies flying among the flowers. As their wings flap, little bits of fluorescent light fall down, accompanied by crisp and sweet sounds. It is pure Pleasure, carefree and carefree, and the most authentic joy of life.
What represents sadness is a quiet shallow lake on the east side of Garden of Nurgle.
The water of the lake is light blue, crystal clear, but it also carries a trace of unresolved sadness. The surface of the lake is calm and waveless, reflecting the halo of the sky. Occasionally, there are small ripples, which are silent sighs.
There are hanging branches growing by the lake, and crystal water drops hang on the branches. Each water drop contains a sad memory. There is parting, regret, and loss, but it is not sad or resentful. It just quietly tells the other side of the emotion, making joy more precious and existence more weighty.
Representing the earth are the gently rising hills in the center of Garden of Nurgle.
The hills are condensed from the warm khaki color Psionic Energy, which is thick and steady, with an aura that embraces all things.
Green spiritual grass grows on it, and its roots penetrate deeply into the hills, absorbing a steady stream of vitality.
It symbolizes the foundation, the carrying capacity, and the support on which all life depends for its survival.
Thick and silent, it supports all the scenery in this Garden of Nurgle, like the earth, always stable and reliable.
What represents the flame is the eternal flame on the top of the hill.
The flame was not a violent fire of destruction, but a warm, bright, and vital holy fire. The flame was golden red, beating slowly, and the light was soft, illuminating the entire Garden of Nurgle.
It symbolizes warmth, hope, and undying will, perfectly integrated with everything around it, warm but not hot, gorgeous but not ostentatious.
The romance of art, the heaviness of forging, the brightness of joy, the silence of sadness, the tolerance of the earth, the warmth of fire, all seemingly contradictory images.
There is a perfect symbiosis here, with colorful light and shadow intertwining and flowing. Every scene can be called the ultimate work of art, but it does not appear cluttered.
Instead, it forms an unparalleled sacred picture.
Tranquil, peaceful, and beautiful to the extreme, it seems to be the only pure land in the Chaos ocean, the destination of all beauty and order.
And in the center of this harmonious Garden of Nurgle, stood a golden figure.