"The stars bear witness—all personnel, GO!"
The roar of the 1st Company Captain "Alsace" pierced the battleship's communication channel. He raised his power sword high, pointing it directly at the plague-shrouded Barbarus below.
For Nix! For the Space King!! For the Emperor!!
The oath transformed into thunder, erupting on the deck of every battleship, in every corridor, in every arsenal. Soldiers pounded their fists against their chests, and the roar of colliding power armor and battle cries merged into a torrent. Without hesitation and without pause, they turned and entered the drop pod—the inner walls of the steel coffin reflected faces covered by helmets, their eyes like tempered blades.
The next moment, Barbarus's firmament was torn apart.
Countless burning meteors pierced the toxic clouds—they were the drop pods of the Eleventh Legion, dragging their blazing tails like spears of divine punishment falling from the sky.
The air screamed, and metal grated against the atmosphere, erupting in blinding fire.
The first drop pod crashed into the ocean of the Plague March, instantly crushing dozens of Plaguebearers into carrion and shattered bone; the second and third followed...
The unceasing impacts made the earth tremble, and the green tide shattered into burning craters.
"Enemies of the Primarch shall be burned!"
The roar of the 2nd Company Captain Mordred drowned out the clamor of the battlefield. He leaped into the enemy mass, and the blood-red disintegration field of his power sword bloomed, tore, and evaporated all corrupted life it touched.
On the other end of the battlefield, Mortarion and Necare were still locked in mortal combat, but as the burning meteor shower streaked across the sky and continued to hammer the battlefield, both paused simultaneously.
Mortarion looked through his breathing grille and stared at the golden torrent of steel and flame. For the first time, he truly understood what it meant to command a Legion—it was to annihilate all enemy forces in an instant, with countless sons willing to die to defend the Primarch's glory. An unprecedented feeling flared in his cold chest—he envied it.
I want it!
Furthermore, Necare's expression was as if he had eaten filth. The scales of victory were tipping, and more fatally, he felt the "morale" of the Nurgle daemon army dissipating. This sudden weakness made it difficult for him to parry Mortarion's increasingly ferocious assault for a time.
Just as the hearts of Mortarion and Necare quaked, true cleansing had already descended upon the land.
"Sanctification protocol, full execution! Let these rotting abominations return to nothingness!"
At the command, the battlefield was divided into various zones of destruction. The heavy flamers on shoulders roared like dragons, and promethium flames swept out in fans, turning Plaguebearers and fungal carpets into coking coke; the hum of plasma weapon charges alternated with the shriek of discharge, and blue beams erupted with precision, directly evaporating bloated Nurgle daemons and Plague Toads in blinding heat.
In areas requiring precise excision and frontline reinforcement, 1st Company Captain Alsace stood like a golden cornerstone. Each swing of his power sword was efficient and cold; the blade did not merely cut, but caused large areas to disintegrate and explode under the effect of the disintegration field. He made himself the axis, turning the surrounding battlefield into a stable, advancing front.
In contrast, in areas requiring breakthroughs and deep strikes, 2nd Company Captain Mordred led the elite like a hot knife through rotten butter. The roar of the chainsword became the most direct battle cry; the serrated teeth caused continuous structural collapse, and the torn corrupted bodies rapidly turned to ash, flaking away and becoming completely inert.
Facing the most cunning undead attempting to reconstitute and regenerate, the warriors employed the strongest physical destruction. Multi-meltas were brought to the front line, instantly vaporizing resurrected flesh piles; rotary assault cannons unleashed storms of steel, destroying any form attempting to coalesce with their impact.
This was not a simple battle, but a systematic sterilization operation against Nurgle. The Eleventh Legion was like a precise and efficient scalpel, cutting, cauterizing, and cleansing every inch of the rotting scar tissue on the skin of planet Barbarus.
"Father, we're here to help you!"
One of their four "good big guys"—the unmistakable voice of Bryce—appeared on Nix's communication channel. Nix, who had been in a good mood thanks to the Legion's divine soldiers, instantly darkened.
As far as the eye could see, Bryce stood at the hatch door of the Stormbird, which Li Bao was piloting at high speed, playing an electric guitar comfortably. Even more outrageous was that with a wave of his hand, the distorted and furious guitar sound ignored the roar of the engines and the clamor of the battlefield, clearly transmitting to every corner of the battlefield.
Wasn't this guy really a Noise Marine who ran out of the Emperor's Children Legion?
Although Nix couldn't understand how this guy stabilized his stance and played the piano on a Stormbird that was maneuvering at high speed and constantly firing, he had to admit this style was crazy enough and strong enough—the gibberish melody reminded him of the precious background music that used to be only worthy of cheap animations.
"These are the reinforcements you were waiting for?!"
Ku'gath was shocked and enraged at that moment. He could clearly feel that the scale of the Plague March was being systematically destroyed, and this newly emerging golden force had begun to threaten the core of the Nurgle daemon army.
"So what?"
Nix began his attack, his tone openly mocking: "Who's not stalling for time? Alsace, lead the 1st Company closer to my coordinates and form the assault vanguard! Mordred, 2nd Company, turn and rush to reinforce the human fortress I marked—the Liberators' camp!"
Thus, he completed his tactical deployment right in front of Ku'gath, ignoring the Great Unclean One before him. This extreme contempt caused Ku'gath to roar with shame and indignation.
Receiving Nix's order, Alsace and his squad charged forward. He pointed his power sword diagonally forward, the stable trajectory of the sword tip serving as the axis of advance for the entire squad. Ten veterans in the same golden power armor deployed in a precise wedge formation behind him, the muffled sound of bolter fire and the dull hum of chainswords their only marching song.
They overcame all obstacles with a suffocatingly efficient manner.
A staggering Plague Hulk tried to stop them. Alsace didn't even change his movement rhythm, merely slightly twisting his wrist, and the power sword traced a short, piercing arc.
The disintegration field hummed, and the blade touched the contact surface. A huge void with smooth edges instantly appeared on the Hulk's torso; the upper body silently slid along the smooth cut, foul green smoke rising from the wound. There was no bleeding, only necrotic tissue completely destroyed by the disintegration field, the molecular bonds utterly severed.
"Spore Chimney on the left."
A soldier's cold voice sounded in the channel.
Almost the moment the reminder came, the flamers of two warriors on the left simultaneously spat out short fire dragons. The Nauseous Spore Chimney, about to burst, turned into a pool of boiling sludge under the high temperature, then was precisely targeted by subsequent explosive rounds and vaporized. No excess energy was wasted.
A group of Nurglings surged from the right flank like a rancid tide, shrieking and wailing. Alsace didn't even turn to look.
"Clear."
The command fell, and three chainswords on the right flank of the wedge formation roared simultaneously. The warrior neatly stepped forward, and the three swords swung in sync, rose, and thrust straight—their movements as simple as a thousand hammers.
The charging Nurglings were twisted into dirty meat crumbs, scattered across the sky by the sharp storm, and subsequent attacks exploded one after another with precise explosive rounds through the gaps. The axis of advance did not deviate in the slightest.
Alsace and his squad efficiently executed Nix's orders, rapidly approaching Nix's position, annihilating every Nurgle daemon in their path with terrifying speed.