The Plague Ogryns moved slowly, but their bodies had grown even larger. Already built like Ork bosses, they had become tougher still after Nurgle's corruption.
Two warriors rode the lead Motorcycle. The one in front focused on driving the Attack Bike, grinding enemy after enemy beneath its wheels.
Plague Zombies were knocked to either side. Some fell apart, their bodies still struggling to rise while others picked up their scattered limbs as weapons. Others had remarkably elastic flesh: an arm knocked five meters away remained attached by strands of meat, which slowly reeled the limb back in like a fishing line.
Far more met complete, final death.
The second warrior whirled his powered Coiling Dragon Staff with ferocious speed, striking enemy heads with precision. Whenever its powered tip connected, a deep dent appeared at the point of impact before the tremendous kinetic force shattered the entire head.
The first Plague Ogryn was enormous. The warriors were grateful they had not brought Power Swords; from their Motorcycles, those blades could never have reached the enemy's head.
The Coiling Dragon Staff spun through the air, killing several Plague Flies, then came crashing toward the Ogryn's face in a fully wound-up strike.
The leading Ogryn behaved strangely. He carried no weapon and covered his head with both hands, protecting his vital point. When the staff struck, his left palm exploded on the spot, scattering countless writhing parasites.
His skull had softened into something like rubber, allowing it to resist kinetic weapons effectively.
The attacking warrior was surprised he had failed to kill the monster in one blow. His Motorcycle swept past, and the warriors behind him likewise swung their powered Coiling Dragon Staffs into the Ogryn's head. Only after three Motorcycles had passed did he slowly fall.
The charge carved a lane through