A sudden unfamiliar voice sounded from behind. Necare whipped around and saw an unbelievable sight—Nix, who had actually entered the depths of the nightmare he himself had created with his own hands.
"You... How could you...?!"
Before he could finish, Nix's fist, wreathed in blazing white flame, exploded before his face. Pure force, wrapped in the will to shatter everything, struck true, sending Necare flying and demolishing the heavy walls of the nightmare fortress.
"Coming for you, brother!"
Nix did not give chase. He turned and took hold of the iron chain binding the young Mortarion. His fingertips glowed faintly, and the steel chain snapped with a crisp sound. He lifted the gaunt body and gently pressed a finger to his forehead.
The next second, Nix's form transformed into pure white flame and burned its way onto Mortarion's body. Wherever the flame passed, scars healed, pain was erased, and all of Nurgle's corruption was incinerated.
By the time Necare clawed his way out of the stone ruins, he no longer saw the curled-up child. Standing before him was Mortarion, the pale lord restored to his prime, his eyes like cold stars.
"Why?! Why would he, who cannot even protect himself, still expend his strength to save you?!"
Necare's cognitive framework was collapsing. Throughout the long years on Barbarus, he had seen too much of the ugliness and selfishness of human nature. He never believed that anyone would still reach out to help another when they themselves were on the verge of death.
"Yes, that is exactly who he is."
Mortarion's voice was calm and resolute; he had never doubted his brother.
"Just as you dream that I would turn away from him because of his pretense as the Emperor."
"You creatures who see only the ugliness of human nature and have already been consumed by that ugliness—you could never understand what I think of him."
"Nix has always been simply a mischievous brother to me. Why do you think I would not tolerate my brother's pranks?!"
Word by word, Mortarion's declaration was not only for Necare, but also an answer to Nurgle, who watched everything, embodying decay and despair. He was not alone; he had never fought alone.
Behind him stood brothers willing to break into a nightmare for him, and warriors who still fought beside him against oppression. Before they fell, how could he, as a Liberator and a leader, surrender first?
"Do not look down on me!"
Mortarion's aura suddenly exploded, and the profound mysteries flowing from the "Imperial Truth" surged within his heart.
"Heaven-Executing Dao—Broken Tiger Dao!"
He would use this fist of sovereign thought, this intent to shatter shackles and slay the sea tiger, to utterly destroy this repulsive and absurd illusion!
Away with you, sovereign thought soaring through the air!
Necare's face was like rotten wood struck by a heavy hammer—instantly dented, cracked, and his entire body flew uncontrollably.
Crack——!
Like the sound of shattering glass, it echoed everywhere. The entire nightmare illusion began to collapse, cracks spreading rapidly from where Necare was struck.
At that moment, reality and illusion intersected. In the real world, Mortarion's fist, bearing that same decisive killing intent, slammed into Necare's twisted, pus-oozing cheek!
Boom——!
The thunderous sound of impact reverberated across the battlefield. As he saw Mortarion rise, a clear smile appeared on the corner of Nix's lips. He had never doubted that his brother would shatter this foolish fate.
"Next... Now it's my turn to fight."
Nix's gaze refocused forward. The Plague March was still slowly but inexorably approaching. Due to the need to maintain the power field isolating the toxic mist, he could not personally join the fireteams and could only entrust the frontline battle to the loyal Liberators.
"For Mortarion! For Nix! For the Liberators!"
Lasker's roar rang across the entire position. Behind him, countless Liberator warriors, holding the sturdy "Hatemonger" ranged weapon, unleashed a storm of firepower upon the crawling Plaguebearers. At this moment, aiming was unnecessary; as far as the eye could see, there were only slowly moving plague corpses—merely the lowest tier of expendable troops in Nurgle's daemon army.
"Bring out those 'big guys'!"
Lasker roared again.
Soon, over a dozen crude rockets, known as "boom-masters," were launched into the grey sky, then plummeted into the sea of Plaguebearers, raising a series of unstable, green-glowing mushroom clouds. The original "Waaagh!" energy was clearly capable of dealing significant damage to Nurgle's corrupt creations.
Similar scenes played out across various defensive lines led by veterans who had undergone the "Holy Egg" transformation. This round of explosive counterattacks temporarily halted the advance of the Plague March.
But Nix understood this was far from enough to reverse the disparity in strength. The enemy was so numerous that the gaps in the freshly breached line were soon filled by endless rotten projectiles from the rear.
The only thing to be grateful for was that Plaguebearers destroyed by the "Waaagh!" energy weapons did not seem to rise again.
"Stubborn... Meaningless, insignificant humans..."
A low, repulsive voice, as if from a decaying abyss, sounded directly in the minds of all who resisted.
"Your ammunition will run out... And you have not even touched the edge of the Father's great legion..."
"Surrender. Accept the loving father's blessings and end this pointless struggle."
It was the voice of the Great Unclean One, Ku'gath. Nix had to admit the monster spoke a harsh truth. However, what they needed most right now was precisely time.
We cannot exhaust all our strength just on maintaining defense... Nix made a decision. As the most vital, frontline combat unit of the Liberators, he could not simply be locked within a maintenance field.
He slowly extended a portion of his consciousness and his own power downwards, penetrating the poisoned soil and delving deep into the wounded core of Barbarus.
He was going to attempt to communicate with the slumbering will of the planet, just as he had done on Nostramo.
"Please, help us!"
He called out with his mind, sending the call through the planet's ancient veins. "Do you not wish... to be 'perfused' by Nurgle?!"
After what seemed an incomparably long silence, a faint but distinct pulse returned, like a heartbeat. Nix sensed that the will of Barbarus was extremely weak; the long age of toxic mist had nearly killed it. Yet within this weak response, he felt a kind of final resolve.
It was willing to fight for the lives of all on Barbarus!
"Then let's drive these repugnant creatures off Barbarus!"