The Emperor’s Angel of Death

#3027 - Substitute

In terms of numbers, the two sides were about the same. Typhus, in his haste to reach Nurgle's Garden, hadn't brought many men, but he did bring a group of sorcerers and had already begun the summoning ritual.

With the help of demons, he had no fear of Eidolon.

Watching the Nurgle demons gathering and baring their fangs and claws, Eidolon knew that he wouldn't gain anything by attacking. However, if Typhus got the upper hand in this world, his efforts would be in vain.

Although their goal was to take revenge on Saul Tarvitz, the most essential thing was to please their god.

Perhaps this revenge would greatly please the gods, and they would be granted the long-awaited ascension—

"The performance is meaningless, like a lion's roar, what it says is like thunder."

A deep, mixed voice, combining the sounds of youth and old age, suddenly echoed in the ears of everyone present. Typhus turned around in astonishment, only to be forced to raise his hand to shield his eyes, lest his eyes, hidden in his helmet, might be burned.

Om!

The unique syllable was like a thunderbolt, echoing in both the real world and the Warp. Then, a golden lion, head raised and roaring, suddenly crashed through the Nurgle poisonous flies surrounding Rozhim, turning them into dust. At the same time, the enormous impact forced the massive Typhus to retreat again and again, a burning sting all over his body—since his transformation, he had almost forgotten the feeling of 'pain'.

"Ugh!"

Even Eidolon was blasted away. When he landed, he turned and spat out a mouthful of dark purple pus, and the blasphemous marks on his armor actually began to burn. The armor, already full of cracks, shattered directly into a set of broken armor, and a piercing shriek even echoed in his ears.

"Hmm?"

Lucius shielded his eyes with his hand, having already retreated behind a Terminator. But when he saw the Terminator clutching his eyes, which seemed to be burning, and letting out a painful scream, his heart suddenly tightened.

"What is this power? Why does it seem so familiar..."

Even in the aftermath of the lion's disappearance, the Nurgle demons screamed and burned.

At this moment, Typhus suddenly thought of something. During the Siege of Terra, he had witnessed it: that round of golden sun hanging high in the sky, piercing the hull of the Vengeful Spirit, and ultimately bringing failure to everyone.

That power, at this moment, was so similar.

"Impossible! I am the Eightfold Path! I am the chosen of Father Nurgle! We are all, Typhus!"

In extreme anger and fear, Typhus's form expanded again, turning into a behemoth. His body grew due to proliferating tumors, filthy spikes, and vast swarms of flies. The poisonous flies that had been burned away reappeared, surrounding him like a living cloak. Even the metal beneath his feet smoked as pus dripped from his body, rising into a blue-black mist.

"Kill him! No matter what he is!"

Typhus's voice became countless echoes. The Plague Marines and Blightlords silently stepped forward, and the Nurgle demons, returning like a tide, surged toward the solemn-faced Rozhim.

Then, Rozhim opened his eyes, turned around, and punched Lucius, who was trying to sneak attack him, in the face, sending him flying with a howl.

"We must deal with him together! This bastard is strange! He seems... he seems like those Living Saints of the Ecclesiarchy! He has the power of the False Emperor on him!"

Lucius, clutching his battered face, screamed again, and Eidolon led his men to attack Rozhim.

Fists and palms flew, Plague Marines and Noise Marines were knocked down together, scythes and blades crossed each other, but also landed at the same time, the owners of the weapons retreating with screams.

"Wow, what's going on with Rozhim!"

Loken, hiding behind the cogitator, watched this scene in shock. In the tide of blasphemy and evil, the figure wearing only a red robe seemed like a stubborn reef, remaining unmoved no matter how the tide crashed against it.

"Hey, he's definitely possessed."

Hearing this voice, Loken turned his head in surprise, discovering that Dogo had somehow crawled to his side, then leaned back against an overturned chair, and pulled out a wine bottle from somewhere.

"Weren't you unconscious?"

"Bullshit, how else could I sneak away if I didn't pretend? Ouch, I took so many knives, just to earn this little bit of equipment money, what a fucking loss."

Dogo pulled out the cork, took a big gulp, and then gasped:

"Tsk, I can only live by relying on this. Luckily I have the Revenge Woven, otherwise I'd really be done for. Nothing good ever comes from being with you guys."

"What did you mean by 'possessed' just now?"

"What else could it mean? It means something ran into Rozhim's body. Did you really think he was some hidden expert? Don't you humans often say this? Something about the Emperor's blessing, divine power descending..."

"Uh, I think the Emperor is pretty busy, he probably doesn't have time to run into Rozhim's body, right?"

"I didn't say it was him, didn't you have that one in the tower?"

"Ah? Master Shijia? Does he... have this kind of ability?"

At this time, on Rozhim's exposed, strong muscles, rows of fine golden characters could be vaguely seen. These were characters that had completely disappeared in human history, a carrier of information older than the Emperor's life, only glimpses of which could be seen in the oldest ruins of the Himalayas.

Facing the sweeping scythe, the silent Rozhim leaped away, like a light and agile cheetah, then landed with one leg directly on the scythe's long handle, and kicked out with the other leg, bringing the sound of wind and thunder, directly kicking the Blightlord's eel-like head away, thick pus spraying out, mixed with twisted white maggots.

The next moment he landed, Rozhim slapped away a Noise Marine who was issuing a deadly howl at him, and took the opportunity to slap the other party's twisted heart out of his chest. A mass of wet flesh slammed against the wall with a thud, and the Noise Marine clutched the bloody hole in his body and collapsed, gurgling.

Then he bent down sharply to avoid Typhus's sweep, raised his left leg, spun around, and kicked the head of a Blightlord who was trying to sneak attack him, directly snapping the other party's neck into a ninety-degree bend with a crack.

At this time, Lucius also leaped high at an incredible speed, raising his long blade high, and slashed down at Rozhim as he fell.

In an instant, a deafening roar, like lightning striking the earth, a golden shadow swooped down, the blade colliding with Rozhim's gold-dyed fist. Golden energy spewed and erupted from the cracks in the Laer Blade, burning Lucius's pale flesh, and the undying one staggered back with a hiss.