The two scythes collided with brutal force. The vile power Typhon took such pride in was like deadwood striking a mountain before Mortarion's overwhelming strength. The ordinary iron War Scythe in Mortarion's hands, forged from discarded armor plating, did not give an inch. The tremendous recoil tore open the webbing of Typhon's hand, sending black, foul blood gushing out.
"The power you bargained for is hollow and weak!" Mortarion snapped coldly. He twisted his wrist, bringing the War Scythe down with crushing force.
Typhon fought desperately, but the vast gulf between their strength could not be bridged. Mortarion's War Scythe shredded the psychic shield Typhon hastily conjured, then swept upward in a savage stroke. With a sharp clang, the wicked Plague Scythe flew from Typhon's grasp and landed far away in the rotten mud of the Wailing Marsh.
Immediately afterward, Mortarion raised a foot and drove it into Typhon's chest. Bones cracked, and Typhon's towering body flew backward like a torn sack, slamming into the putrid mire.
The agony utterly shattered the last of Typhon's madness. The "Plague Father" he took such pride in had granted him no miracle, and the cold shadow of death had already engulfed him. He tried to climb to his feet, only to find his legs trembling violently, no longer obeying him.
As that immense, pale figure approached and loomed over him, Typhon broke completely.
"Brother... please... let me explain..." Ignoring the searing pain in his chest, Typhon pleaded incoherently. He rolled clumsily through the mire and unwittingly fell to his knees at Mortarion's feet. His mud-covered hands clutched Mortarion's leg armor. "For the sake of all the battles we fought together... for all the xenos outposts I captured for you... I lost my senses for a moment... forgive me..."
Mortarion looked down at the