Typhus's outcry drew every Nurgling and Nurgle daemon within the illusion. They swarmed, their filthy bodies writhing, layer upon layer surrounding Typhon's broken form, trying to suppress the destructive energy violently rising from the core of his soul.
Yet in Typhon's eyes at that moment, only two gradually clarifying figures remained—Nix and Mortarion.
I understand, seeing Lord Mortarion before death... But why do you have a dog-like habit... Never mind.
I... I should live up to the title of 'Liberator', right? It's just that I can't see the future...
At the last moment, when his consciousness was about to completely merge with the self-igniting psychic flame—
"I didn't expect you, of all people, to actually hold on?!"
A voice, with its familiar, bluntly rough approval, crashed directly into his mind.
Immediately after, another, deeper but no less powerful voice sounded: "Well done, Typhon. It is not yet time for you to fall—I still need someone with the skill to calm me down to be my first Company Captain."
The voices of Nix and Mortarion sounded almost simultaneously within his perception on the brink of destruction. So real, not illusory, as if they truly stood beside him.
"Hey, don't rush to sleep! Wake up!"
"Snap!"
With Nix's recognizable shout, Typhon felt a painless but unusually clear tap on his forehead.
The next moment, a change occurred.
Not from outside, but from the very depths of his soul, a tiny, pure incandescent spark suddenly burst forth! Immediately after, that spark became a raging prairie fire, erupting from every corner of his body!
Warm, pure, with a mighty power to cleanse all filth and pain. This was not a flame of destruction, but a flame of rebirth.
"It's not over yet, kid!"
Nix's voice was especially loud within this pure white flame, full of fighting spirit.
"Next, it's our turn to counterattack!"
Typhon felt all the terrifying mutational traces on his body caused by Nurgle's corruption rapidly dissolve and restore within this pure white flame. His collapsed body reorganized, and his scattered consciousness condensed at an astonishing speed, becoming more alert than ever before.
He opened his eyes and saw an unbelievable scene—the hideous, snarling Nurglings, the Nurgle daemons with filthy weapons, the surging, filthy waterfall, and even the frozen, malevolent phantom of Typhus—everything seemed pressed on pause, completely stopped.
Only those two figures, Nix and Mortarion, still stood before him, renewed and vigorous.
"Aren't you the hallucinations I had before death?"
Typhon's voice was a little dry, but carried unbelievable hope.
"Of course not."
Nix crossed his arms, the corners of his mouth curving into that familiar, slightly irritating arc: "It's your 'Holy Egg'—that thing sent out such a strong distress signal it was about to explode. Good grief, this light is shining so bright it's almost blinding us spectators."
Hearing Nix mention the Holy Egg, Typhon's face instantly darkened. He could already imagine the looks people were giving him, and they were glowing.
It turned out that just recently, when Nix and Mortarion had finished their battles, they had almost simultaneously felt a pulsing and a call from the source of their lineage.
The source of this call was the 'Holy Egg' that Nurgle had specifically nurtured within Typhon, deep in the underground laboratory.
"You remember what I told you before?"
Nix restrained his slight jest, lowering his voice with rare seriousness: "This field is the embodiment of your spirit and soul. Here, the one thing that can ultimately decide everything—is your own will."
"And now we've received your 'call' and seen your 'choice'."
"So this power... Take it."
An invisible bridge was erected with a rumble, and a majestic force, fundamentally the same as Typhon's own, crossed the boundaries of space and level, flooding into his soul and this body that was being reborn.
"The power has been given to you."
Nix's aura suddenly changed, becoming hyperactive and aggressive once more, smiling and showing his white teeth.
"So—don't be dazed! Shout out that 'name'! Let these Empyrean dog breeds listen carefully!"
Typhon looked at the two standing figures; they radiated an aura both extremely powerful and filled with commanding presence. However, within his heart, a strong and indescribable feeling of shame also arose.
Myself... Do I really have to shout out some shameful 'transformation name' right now, like in the dog stories Knicks told?
It feels... Once you shout it, there's no going back! Definitely a point of no return!
His eyes secretly slid sideways to Mortarion, but he was shocked to see that the Primarch, always known for his serious silence, was also looking at him at this moment, almost imperceptibly nodding, and in his grey eyes, a trace seemed to flicker... Approval and expectation?
Why even Lord Mortarion...?!
Typhon didn't know that after experiencing the long battle with Nix and accepting a special version of the Imperial Truth to reshape his worldview, some aspects of Mortarion's 'art style' had quietly changed.
At this moment, feeling the force of the same origin as himself resonating within Typhon's body, the Pale King, the purest flame of struggle in his heart, was indeed burning fiercely.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with it. On the contrary, he considered it a way to manifest an unyielding will.
In short, it must be tough enough! Dominant enough!
Forget it... Since even my own Primarch is looking at me like this, there's only one option left—
"Twin War Gods—follow me!!"
Under the siege of countless Nurgle daemons and Typhus's horrified gaze, Typhon, who should have been twisted and deformed, instantly recovered, and a terrifying force exploded from within him.
Golden flame and white flame intertwined and burst forth, penetrating the daemon bodies, and Typhus only felt as if his ugly soul had been ignited.
Behind Typhon, the shadows of two War Gods appeared simultaneously—Nix and Mortarion.
This power...
For the first time, Typhon truly understood what it meant to be 'strong' and 'dominant', as Nix and Mortarion often spoke of—now he felt he could shatter this entire world!
Typhon turned his head to look at the surrounding daemons, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily lifted, a roar escaping as if he had learned from a master:
"Hahahaha, power grows within me, wildly growing!"
"Now I, Typhon, can truly control this power!"
"Fiery Greatsword, come to me! One—is not enough! Death Scythe, come to me as well!"
In the blink of an eye, the signature weapons of Nix and Mortarion appeared in Typhon's hands. And the madness Typhon displayed at this moment was even beyond the imagination of those two.
Is this... after extreme suppression... a complete eruption?
Gua, this is what I want to see—teeth bared!
"I'm pulling the flag now!!"
"Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on——!!!"
"Lowly Empyrean dog breeds, inferior beings who want to take my shell, all perish under my God-Shattering Lightning!!"