Deep within the nebula, a dozen green warships hovered silently.
The ship's armor was covered with a layer of rust several centimeters thick, and thick, yellowish-green pus seeped from the cracks, with countless wriggling maggots crawling between the armor grooves.
The bridge was unlit, only illuminated by the eerie green glow of the control screens, which lit up a row of Death Guard warriors clad in decaying Power Armour.
Their Power Armour had long since become one with their flesh and blood, the breathing valves on their helmets constantly spewing out white mist carrying plague spores, and the weapons in their hands were all carrying deadly viruses.
Rusty Phelps stood in the center of the bridge. He was a Plague Engineer of the Pale Hand Warband and one of Nurgle's most devout champions.
His MKIII Power Armour had a blurred Death Guard three-skull emblem engraved on the right shoulder plate, and Nurgle's three-spinning arrow symbol on the left shoulder plate.
His helmet visor was covered by a murky biofilm, obscuring his expression, but his clenched fists and the swirling green toxic mist around him conveyed his suppressed rage.
In his left hand he gripped a rusty Chainaxe, its blade clinging to a layer of perpetually saturated black poison.
His right hand rested on the armrest of the control panel, the rusted metal of his fingertips making a hissing sound as it touched the alloy control panel.
He was staring intently through the porthole at the Orks fleet and the Nurgle Blight Ark locked in fierce combat in the distance.
The murky goggles reflected the flames of the explosion and the splattered flesh and blood.
"A bunch of damned Orks beasts."
Phelps ' voice was hoarse, as if squeezed from a rusty iron pipe, with a heavy mechanical noise.
His throat had long been transformed by his Grandfather's grace, and with every breath he would spread deadly plague spores.
He paid an unimaginable price for this mission.
Abaddon's Thirteenth Black Crusade is imminent, and the invincible Warmaster has personally chosen him.
The Pale Hand was requested as a backup plan to launch a surprise attack on the Knight House of Krast, in case they sent out knight mechs to support Cadia.
This is a golden opportunity for the Pale Hand to prove himself, and a crucial step for Phelps to become the Plague Lord.
But on the eve of his departure, he received a divine message from his Grandfather.
The planet Brevis in the Calixis System holds a " Life Shard," a lost fragment of the Grandfather's authority, capable of turning the entire galaxy into an eternal, decaying paradise.
Without hesitation, Phelps disregarded Abaddon's orders and, with his troops and thirty plague-laden, Blight Ark, betrayed the main force of the Chaos Alliance.
As a result, he was not only blacklisted by Abaddon, but also lost all supplies and support from the Chaos Alliance.
If it weren't for Nurgle personally bestowing divine grace to protect his fleet as it traversed the Warp, he would have been torn to shreds by the pursuers sent by the Warmaster.
Thirty Blight Ark, each carrying the deadly plague he had painstakingly cultivated over a thousand years.
Each one has undergone countless live experiments, enough to render a medium-sized planet completely lifeless within seventy-two hours.
However, while traversing the Warp, a sudden Warp Storm engulfed twenty-seven Blight Ark.
Only these three Blight Ark, laden with plague, managed to reach the edge of the Calixis System with great difficulty.
As originally planned, the three Blight Ark would crash into Brevis's Hive City at near-light speed, releasing all the plague at once.
At that time, billions of humans will turn into rotting zombies within three days, and the entire planet will become Garden of Nurgle.
He will find the Life Shard and become one of his Grandfather's most beloved champions.
Who could have imagined that, just as the Blight Ark emerged from the Warp, it would run into the retreating Orks fleet from the Carl II?
These Xenos, whose brains are built into muscles, didn't utter a single warning. Their first reaction upon seeing the Blight Ark was to open fire, and then they roared and launched a boarding assault.
"Sir, should we intervene?" A Death Guard soldier stepped forward.
A large hole had been torn open in the chest of his Power Armour, inside which countless pale maggots were wriggling.
"These ridiculous Orks, we won't waste much time cleaning them up."
"Intervene?" Phelps turned his head, his cloudy eyes fixed on the soldier.
"Fighting Orks? Have you forgotten your Grandfather's teachings? Don't waste your Grandfather's blessings on pointless battles."
He pointed to the distant battlefield, his voice icy. "Look at those Plague Zombie, do they even work on the Orks?"
The soldier followed his finger and saw the Plague Zombie surging from the Blight Ark, utterly helpless against the Orks.
The Orks, endowed with genes by the Old Ones, possess a natural resistance to the Nurgle's flesh plague.
The plague pus, capable of instantly corrupting humans, would at most cause minor ulceration when splashed on Orks.
Some Orks, after being infected, have their immune systems activated, becoming even more ferocious and doubling their fighting power.
" Orks organisms are fungi, and their physiological structure is completely different from that of carbon-based humans," Phelps said.
"Most of the plagues that Grandfather had less than a tenth of their effect on them."
"Moreover, even if we could defeat these Orks, we wouldn't gain anything; it would only waste more time."
"By then, let alone seizing the Life Shard, we won't even be able to enter Brevis's orbit."
This is the key point: unlike humans who are easily provoked, the corrupted Orks are fundamentally worthless to the Chaos Gods.
The evil gods' power originates from the souls and emotions of mortals, but the Orks ' killing is driven by pure instinct.
Furthermore, the Orks's soul is too wild, and with the protection of the Waaagh! Field, it is difficult to be corrupted.
It is a target with extremely low cost-effectiveness.
"So what do we do now?" another Death Guard asked.
" The Blight Ark is destroyed, and our initial plague prevention plan has also fallen through."
"Without cannon fodder, we'll have to pay a much higher price to break through Brevis's orbital defenses."
"The plan has been adjusted," Phelps said without hesitation.
"Order the fleet to shut down all engines, remain silent, bypass this battlefield, take the covert route on the western side of the nebula, and infiltrate Brevis orbit."
"But sir, without Blight Ark, how can we spread the plague?"
"Fool," Phelps scoffed. "There are many ways to spread a plague, and this Blight Ark is just the most brutal one."
"If I can get near Brevis, I have plenty of ways to make the whole planet rot."
"We can disguise ourselves as Imperium ships, dock at starports, and send monks to infiltrate cities to poison water and food."
"It could even detonate a warship, allowing the Grandfather's grace to cover the entire planet."
His tone carried a chilling undertone. "As for cannon fodder, Brevis has tens of billions of humans."
"Once the plague breaks out, they will all become the most faithful servants of our Grandfather."
"Let's ignore those Orks for now."
Following Phelps's order, more than a dozen warships changed course and shut down all active detection equipment.
Like venomous insects lurking in the darkness, they silently slipped into the shadows on the western side of the nebula, heading towards the planet Brevis.
Unbeknownst to anyone, this deadly fleet was slowly approaching Brevis.