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The remains of Nurgle's Garden and Psionic Energy became half of her kingdom of God.
That life energy followed the invisible link between her and Asuryan and poured into Asuryan's body.
Asuryan The white-gold light on the sword suddenly surged. The light was no longer gentle, but became fierce, domineering, and unstoppable.
The pale golden divine kingdom around him began to swell and expand under the infusion of life energy, pushing Slaanesh's pink divine kingdom back steadily.
Slaanesh finally showed a trace of real solemnity in his eyes.
He found himself in an extremely embarrassing position - His Kingdom of God was suppressed by Asuryan's Eldar Pantheon, and His Greater Daemons were suppressed by Kaine intercepted, his power was continuously weakened by Black Sun of Emperor, and Asuryan is now blessed by Isha.
That blessing was not an ordinary infusion of divine power, but a suppression at the level of the divine kingdom - Isha mobilized the power of the Nurgle's Garden wreckage. It was the Psionic Energy accumulation of the entire Garden of Nurgle for 65 million years. It was the pure energy purified by the Emperor golden flame, which was enough to compete with his realm of desire.
Asuryan's sword was raised.
He no longer defends, no longer draws circles, and no longer competes with Slaanesh for the exquisiteness of the rules.
The tip of his sword pointed straight at Slaanesh. That white-gold long sword was condensed with all his divine power - his own, Eldar Pantheon's, Isha's, and the contribution of the entire burned Nurgle's Garden.
The power is not violent or showy, it is just a thin, silk-like light that slowly extends from the tip of the sword and spreads towards Slaanesh.
That light was not fast, it could even be said to be very slow.
It was so slow that Slaanesh could clearly see its trajectory in the void, so slow that he had enough time to think about whether to dodge or block, and so slow that he even felt that Asuryan was humiliating him.
But He did not hide because He found that his body could not move.
Not because he is bound by some force, but because in the shadow cast by that light on Him, the concept of "Slaanesh can move" is being slowly and irreversibly erased.
It's not prohibition or imprisonment, but the action of moving itself, in that shadow-covered area, no longer exists for Him.
Just like if you ask a person who has never seen a color "What does red look like", he has no corresponding concept in his brain, so he cannot answer.
Slaanesh looked at the light, watching it get closer to his chest little by little.
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, and a trace of unwillingness flashed in his purple eyes, but soon, that trace of unwillingness was replaced by a helpless smile.
The moment the light touched him, his body began to become transparent, from reality to emptiness, from existence to nothingness, just like a snowman melting in the sun.
"Interesting."
Slaanesh's voice echoed in the void. The voice was no longer weird or crazy, but had a rare and calm tone, as if it was evaluating a good dish.
"In sixty-five million years, you are the first Eldar god that I find 'interesting'."
Asuryan took back the sword.
The pale golden kingdom of God receded like a tide, revealing a void that was still dark and cold.
He stood there, his platinum cloak hanging quietly behind him, his eyes looking at Slaanesh's gradually dissipating figure, and the corners of his mouth raised slightly.
"Thanks for the compliment."
His voice was gentle, like a teacher praised by his students, polite and appropriate.
Kaine stood in the distance, with the remains of Keeper of Secrets hanging on the giant sword.
The pair of bloody eyes stared in the direction where Slaanesh disappeared, silent for a moment, and then slowly sheathed the sword.
His left arm was still bleeding, but the moment the blood flowed out, it turned into the flames of the God of War, forming a bloody halo around him.
He didn't feel pain, he didn't even look at the wound.
He just turned his head and looked at Asuryan standing in the center of Eldar Pantheon.
Isha stood on the charred land, the tender green light slowly receded from her body, and there was still a trace of fatigue in her blue eyes.
She looked at Asuryan with a relieved smile after a disaster.
Guilliman stood in front of the porthole of the transport ship, watching the purple shadow completely dissipate, and let out a long breath.
His hand was released from the Emperor's Sword sword hilt, and his palm was covered in sweat, no, it was condensed Psionic Energy liquid.
His back was pressed against the cold metal wall, and he slowly slid to the ground.
Mortarion stood behind him, silent.
Adeptus Custodes Black stood at the door of the hangar, the long sword still in his hand, and the blade was stained with a mixture of pink and dark green stains.
"Let's go."
Asuryan's voice came from the void, still gentle and calm, as if the battle just now was just about him pruning away a few redundant branches in Garden of Nurgle.
"Go home."