Before the Liberators' camp, Lasker and several other veterans who had undergone the Holy Egg transformation were hurriedly resupplying ammunition as the Plague March reached the edge of the sanctification barrier.
"Everyone! Prepare for close combat!"
Lasker stared at the approaching wave of green Plaguebearers, a feeling of powerlessness growing irresistibly in his heart. But he knew he could not retreat—Nix and Mortarion had entrusted the Liberators to him, and he had to repay that trust with his life.
He was resolved to lead all the Liberator warriors to their deaths. However, today Lady Fortune seemed to favor humanity. He saw a mythical rain of fire piercing through the toxic clouds, pouring down, and countless warriors in golden armor emerged from the flames, annihilating all enemies of humanity with an efficiency Lasker could scarcely imagine.
Bolters and flamers roared, and the heads of Nurgle's Plaguebearers exploded one after another. The crimson power sword reaped Plaguebearers like a scythe through wheat. When he came to his senses, the Plague March that had just been pressing against the barrier was annihilated.
"Eleventh Legion of the Imperium, 2nd Company Captain, acting on orders from Legion Lord Nix to lead the squad!"
Stronger, more powerful than anything he had ever seen. These divine soldiers who had fallen from the sky so easily resolved the monsters that had driven them to despair.
...
Above the stench of rotting flowers, the battle between Mortarion and Necare was reaching its conclusion. The mountain had been destroyed in the fighting, the xenos fortress lay in ruins, and every trace of Barbarus's xenos rule was at this moment becoming history.
"Why don't you laugh? ... Don't you like to laugh?!"
The battle had reached this point, and both Mortarion and Necare were beginning to tire. A scythe slash severed one of Necare's rotten, swollen arms. The injury from this blow made it impossible for Necare, who was gradually fading under Nurgle's blessing, to recover.
Damn... My life is about to be taken back by my loving father's blessings!
Feeling his own power wane, the fear of death grew in his heart. He struggled frantically with his remaining arm, trying to use the supernatural strength of a Nurgle daemon to push Mortarion away.
Nurgle's blessing was rapidly consuming his life; at this moment, he couldn't even control his psychic power.
"Time to end this..."
Mortarion swung his scythe, the blade lightly cutting, and Necare lost another arm.
"Time to end the battle between you and me."
Suddenly, Mortarion's figure flashed directly beneath Necare's colossal mountain of flesh. He erupted with all the remaining power of his Primarch body, swinging his scythe and blasting a chunk of carrion into the air.
Mortarion looked upon the 'foster father' who had filled his childhood with pain. His evil deeds, the tyranny he had inflicted, were far greater than mere selfishness—he had plunged all of Barbarus into suffering for so long.
Mortarion focused his assault, channeling all the strength of his body into a single blow. He would use this strike to end the shadow that had loomed over Barbarus for countless years.
"No... Don't!"
Necare let out a terrified shriek. He could clearly feel that he would die under Mortarion's fist. Fear took him, and he tried to trade his pleas for a glimmer of life.
But was that possible? ... Mortarion, I will never give this beast a chance to survive!
"Barbarus's tomorrow—has no need for you, tyrant, to exist!"
AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!
The sufferings of the past, the sacrifices of countless Liberators, the tomorrow he and all of Barbarus longed for... All convictions and hopes were bound up in this strike.
Necare's body, elevated to daemonhood, fell from the air, resistance gone. And Mortarion's fist was aimed at that ugly face.
CRACK——!
The pain of the past was shattered, the yoke pressing down on Barbarus was broken, and the final evil standing in the path of Barbarus's dawn was utterly destroyed.
The blow crushed Necare's hideous head, and then the force pierced through his body until it was completely obliterated, utterly annihilated.
"It's over..."
He didn't know when his fight with Necare had ceased to be a personal vendetta, but he now carried the hope of all Liberators.
Mortarion stared at his hands, and a moment of confusion flickered in his heart. Killing Necare wasn't what he had imagined it would be...
But Mortarion quickly found a new direction—Nix was still fighting. He could not rest yet.
...
By the time 1st Company Captain Alsace and his squad joined the fray, the number of Nurgle units Ku'gath was using to repair his body was rapidly decreasing. The speed of his physical regeneration was gradually being outpaced by the destruction Nix was inflicting.
"You have lost!"
Nix roared, once again smashing the Great Unclean One's massive form. He coldly observed the lumps of carrion writhing to fill the voids in Ku'gath's body, as if proclaiming victory.
"The loving father will never be defeated, only you will be defeated!"
Ku'gath's response to Nix sounded like nothing more than the desperate fight of a cornered beast. But Ku'gath alone knew that whether he won or lost this battle, their real task was to hold Nix and his forces here.
Yet fear was spreading in Ku'gath's heart. He knew what it meant to be killed by Nix: not banishment back to the Empyrean, but true, total annihilation. At that time, even the loving father could only create a new entity, not bring him back from death.
Despite his fear, Ku'gath did not waver. If his death served the great purpose—of the loving father—then the sacrifice was worth it.
As the war seemed to tilt, both sides were trading time for an advantage. But this time, the only thing Ku'gath could rely on was his own death. He seemed to have forgotten his importance in the father's heart—especially in him, the Great Unclean One Nurgle loved most.
With the demise of countless Nurgle units and the sacrifice of Necare, the temporarily elevated daemon, the contingency plan Nurgle had held in reserve was finally activated.
In the sky, the vortex shrouded in green toxic gas, like the green sun, began to condense its essence. Countless obscene and filthy symbols swirled around it, and at the center of the vortex, the emblem of Nurgle gradually appeared.
Beside the emblem, the figure of the Plague Father Rotigus finally materialized—this was the contingency prepared by his loving father Nurgle in case of Ku'gath's defeat.
Rotigus stood majestically on the back of a gigantic rotting fly. He held high the Plague Scepter, which had accumulated infinite power.
Rotigus, the second most favored daemon of Nurgle, is revered as the "Rainfather of Plague." He commands the rain, as his title suggests, and also possesses the power of blight and harvest.
At this moment, the long-slumbering Rainfather was about to unleash a plague downpour, adding another sudden twist to the situation in this battle.