The toxins of Nurgle coating the Greater Daemon's hands were lethally potent, capable of instantly reducing any mortal thing they touched to a pool of foul-smelling pus.
Unfortunately, the mighty Primarch Guilliman was no mortal. However much he denied it, just as the Emperor did, he was the Emperor's son, a being above mortals.
Nurgle's toxins had no effect. Guilliman's wound shed only a little blood before healing.
Guilliman saw another smile on the Great Unclean One's face, and it disgusted him. In his eyes, the wonderful, loving, benevolent family Nurgle preached was rotten and twisted, a source of calamity that polluted pure humanity.
He raised his sword to deliver a killing blow to the Greater Daemon before him, only to discover that he had been immobilized. An immensely powerful targeted spell had trapped him, a demigod.
The battle with the Great Unclean One had been a trap. That little bit of blood had served as the medium for casting the spell. The hope of the Imperium of Man, Regent Guilliman, was now in grave peril.
At last, his brother Mortarion descended from the sky. The enormous wings behind him spread like the wings of death, casting a shadow over Guilliman as though foreshadowing his fate.
Mortarion raised his right hand and pointed Duskreaper at Guilliman, saying smugly, "Thirteenth, you've failed. Do you know how long I've waited for this day?"
Faced with Guilliman's furious gaze, Mortarion grew even more pleased. "Yes, that's the expression. I love seeing that look on your face! Do you know how much I envy you? Your upbringing, your experiences, all the love you received! But what about me? My past, the suffering I endured-you've never felt any of it!
"Our ideals do have things in common. You once saw me as a brother and