Your Soul Ripples in the Empyrean

He fell.

His knees hit the scorched earth, and his helmet hit the ground with a dull sound.

His hand still held the sword, but the blade was already propped on the ground, becoming his only support.

His vision began to blur, and the golden sea of fire turned into a ball of Chaos, alternating light and dark light in his eyes.

He could even hear his heartbeat slowing down, a beat, a beat, a beat.

Each beat is weaker and more distant than the previous beat, like stones being knocked in deep water, the sound getting duller and quieter.

He remembered the battle training of Black Templars - My death in exchange for my new life.

Only by approaching death infinitely can it be possible to gain His attention.

That line of text is engraved at the entrance of every Black Templars boot camp, in gold-gilt fonts, and on the black marble wall, each letter is so deep that you can insert a finger.

He closed his eyes.

Then he heard a voice.

It was not a sound heard in the ears, but a resonance that sounded from the depths of the soul.

It was a sigh that crossed the endless Chaos of Warp, penetrated the heavy fog of Nurgle's Garden, and landed on his pulse that was almost no longer beating.

As he sighed, his heart jolted, like a dead star that collapsed into a white dwarf at the last moment, emitting a more dazzling light than before.

He opened his eyes.

His eyes were no longer blue, no longer green, but pure gold.

The golden lines on his Power Armour completely spread to every inch of the armor surface at this moment, from the shoulder armor to the arm armor, from the chest armor to the leg armor, from the back armor to the neck armor, the black was penetrated by the gold, no longer intertwined, but fused.

Completely natural.

Great Unclean One's eyes widened at the same time.

It looked at him, watched him stand up from the ground, watched the wounds on his body that were split by its blades were smoking, and saw that the smoke was dark green - the last traces of its poison after being burned by the golden flames.

It opened its mouth and let out a vague and trembling whisper.

"Are you kidding... what the hell are you?"

He didn't answer.

Just raised the sword.

The first sword.

The sword edge sank into Greater Daemon's right shoulder, slicing through the rotten flesh, slicing through the layer of skin as thick as rubber, slicing through the mud-like fat underneath, slicing through the abscess-covered membrane surrounding the internal organs, all the way to the chest cavity.

Greater Daemon's screams were as harsh as metal scraping glass. Its arms were waving wildly, and the blades were slashing in his direction.

He is no longer there.

The moment the sword fell, he had already ducked behind Greater Daemon.

The second sword.

This sword struck Greater Daemon's waist from bottom to top.

The intestines hanging outside were cut off by the sword's edge, and the broken intestines flew wildly in the air, and dark green pus sprayed all over the floor.

The pus splashed on his Power Armour and was instantly evaporated by the golden lines, leaving not even a mark.

Great Unclean One started to run away.

It no longer cares about the glory of a loving father, the dignity of Greater Daemon, or the gaze of a loving father.

It just wants to leave this golden sea of fire alive, return to the safe depths of Garden of Nurgle, bury itself in the swamp, and wait until the war is over.

Its short legs were digging wildly on the scorched earth, and its bloated body was like an out-of-control truck, knocking down the dead trees that were still burning on the roadside and crushing those Plaguebearer that couldn't dodge.

But it couldn't outrun him.

His speed was extremely fast, and the black figure dragged out a scream that broke through the air in the golden flames, like a shell being discharged, catching up with Greater Daemon from behind, and leaping high.

The third sword.

This sword struck Great Unclean One on the head.

The big sword cut in between the eyebrows and came out from the back of the head.

Great Unclean One's body froze, those arms dropped at the same time, those eyes went out at the same time, and the mouth that was still screaming finally closed.

Its body began to disintegrate, starting from the top of its head, inch by inch, turning into dark green light spots, floating in the golden flames.

He fell to the ground.

He lowered his head and saw a huge gaping hole in his abdomen.

It was during Greater Daemon's last counterattack that the blade of a certain arm passed across his abdomen, cutting open his Power Armour along with his abdominal muscles.

The intestines slipped out of the wound and hung on the side of the waist, being smoked by the golden flames.

He could feel his life passing away, not a plague, not a toxin, not anything that could be neutralized by Smart Atoms.

This is pure physical trauma, flesh and blood being severed, internal organs being exposed to the air, and blood being pumped out of those broken blood vessels.

He knelt down on one knee.

He faced the direction of Imperium, the direction of the golden light.

That is the direction of Terra, that is the direction of Emperor, and that is the direction of home.

The golden lines on his Power Armour reached their brightest at this moment, as bright as his whole body turned into a burning star.

His breathing stopped, his heartbeat slowed, and his consciousness blurred.

The corners of his mouth were slightly raised - it was a smile that only veterans who died in battle would show.

Give me death in exchange for my new life.

Emperor Ah, your servant has completed its mission.

Please accept my soul, place it under Golden Throne, and sleep with those ancestors.

His vision completely darkened.

Then, a hand pressed on his shoulder.

The hand was blue, with blue-gold flames beating on the fingertips. The flames did not burn people, but warmed them, like a thick quilt in winter.

He could feel the power pouring in from his shoulders, spreading along his blood vessels throughout his body, reactivating the Smart Atoms in his body that had stopped working, causing them to begin to proliferate crazily at an unprecedented speed.

The severed muscles are being rewoven, the opened blood vessels are being re-closed, the intestines that slipped out are stuffed back into the abdominal cavity by some invisible force, the wounds are healing, and the golden lines are repairing the cracks in Power Armour.

"In his name you shall not die.

In the name of Imperium, you will continue to be loyal and brave.

What a great warrior!

Brave warrior!"

Guilliman's voice sounded above his head. The voice was not high-pitched or exciting, but as calm as reciting a prayer.

But every word was like a war drum, knocking on his still beating heart, bringing the frequency of the beating back from near death to the battlefield.

Black Templars's warrior opens his eyes.

His vision was no longer blurry and he saw a face.

It was a handsome face, a little tired and a little vicissitudes of life, but not old.

Black hair, blue-gold eyes, the blue is not the blue of the sky, but the blue of the sea of stars.

There is no top hat on his head, and his beard is not shaved too clean, but he looks a little more mature.