After Eden successfully transformed Mortarion into the Chosen of the Hell King, he poured out another surge of faith power.
That hellish fel energy spread outward with Mortarion at its center, extending into other regions in an unnatural form.
It surpassed time and space, swiftly transmitting through the Warp to the corresponding individuals—the Death Guard.
No matter where the Death Lord's gene-sons were, it was difficult for them to escape such corruption.
Even more so, they could not refuse it.
"Poach them. Poach the entire department!" Eden continued pouring out faith-borne fel energy, madly corroding them.
He grew increasingly practiced at it, thoroughly indulging in the thrill of being an evil god.
Back then, it was precisely in this manner that Father Nurgle had carried off the Death Guard, one of the Imperium's core Space Marine Legions, pot and all.
Now Eden had dug them back out from under Nurgle again, and their numbers were even greater than before. It barely counted as collecting the debt with interest.
Within Eden's field of vision, dark red flames ignited across the festering, mutated, reeking bodies of the Death Guard, burning away plague fel energy and bacterial contamination.
"Father…"
Faced with the sudden corruption and transformation, the Death Guard were somewhat at a loss.
They desperately tried to extinguish the flames on their bodies, but it had no effect whatsoever.
Hellfire did not merely touch the body. It sank deep into the soul, and these Chaos warriors could not withstand it.
"My gene-sons, you need not fear.
"This is a precious blessing. It will burn away the poisonous miasma and the germs. From this day forth, we will be utterly freed from the Plague Lord's enslavement and shackles."
Mortarion spoke thus, a trace of liberation in his words.
At last, he had escaped those loathsome germs and toxins, escaped the rotting stench clinging to his body.
That filth had been a cage binding him ever since he was stranded on Barbarus, subjecting him to far too many strange stares.
And the Plague Lord had intensified all of it, turning him into a source of disease that no one dared approach.
Now, under the burning of hellfire, all of it vanished like smoke.
Hearing their gene-father's voice, the Death Guard calmed as well and no longer rejected that power.
They would follow the Death Lord forever, no matter what decision he made.
More importantly, the Death Guard discovered that compared to the Plague Lord's previous corruption, the Hell King had given them more right to choose.
They were no longer slaves of Chaos, but warriors of Hell fighting for themselves.
To put it simply, the Death Guard had previously been more like illegal laborers working in a coal mine, their income entirely dependent on the Plague Lord's mood and favor.
Now, their new boss, the Hell King, had given them full benefits, even employee stock.
Any warrior facing all this would know what choice to make.
"We… are free!"
Mortarion abruptly removed the mask that had accompanied him for so long, rarely revealing his true face.
His face no longer had that sickly yellow-brown hue from before. It was no longer rotting, nor would he breathe out poisonous gas.
The transformation wrought by hellish fel energy made the lines of his face even darker and more intimidating, and his demonic horns were imposing.
Roughly one-fifth as impressive as the Savior.
The aesthetics of the Hell King—or rather, Eden—had always been reliable. There were very few bizarrely malformed warriors under his command.
Mortarion used the reflection of the fel veil to gaze at his own face. It had been a very long time since he had seen his own appearance.
In the past, he had always envied Guilliman, Sanguinius, and the others. Envied that they could remove their helmets and face people under the sunlight.
While he could only wear an ugly mask like a rat in a gutter.
Mortarion suddenly crushed the mask and issued a proclamation to the Death Guard. "Of course, that does not mean the Death Guard will stop fighting. It only means we now have a loftier faith.
"We will fight for the Hell King, and bring a new terror of death to the Warp!"
As the Death Lord made his declaration, Eden swiftly manipulated the Hell King to transmit an oracle to the Death Guard.
That was essentially a pay slip and the relevant benefits package. Naturally, all of it had to be earned through battle achievements.
So long as they destroyed or corrupted enemies, they would receive their due glory and Chaos power.
Bang, bang, bang—
The toxins on the Death Guard fused with the flames, forming a special ghostfire. They raised their weapons and howled madly at the sky.
They were warriors of the Hell King!
"Good. Everyone's spirits are looking pretty solid." Eden watched this scene and nodded in satisfaction.
He had poached a powerful Chaos Legion, and his heart was filled with delight.
"Wait, something's off."
Eden suddenly thought of something and could not help worrying. "I'm poaching this hard, so why hasn't Father Nurgle reacted at all?"
The Plague Lord's resistance to his corruption was far weaker than expected. It was practically nonexistent.
He had no idea what Nurgle was doing.
Not only the Plague Lord, but the other Chaos Gods were also quiet. They did not seem to have cast their attention onto New Dragonwood.
No one knew what schemes those Chaos Gods were secretly cooking up, and that was truly worrying.
"Forget it. I'll deal with Horus and the Chaos coalition first." Eden took a deep breath and stopped dwelling on the issue.
Soldiers would be met with generals, water with earth.
Besides, he truly did not have the energy or ability right now to pay attention to anything else.
The Chaos Gods had a million ways to conceal their own traces. There was no use in him getting anxious. It was better to do what lay within his control.
Immediately afterward, Eden opened a new passage, guiding Mortarion and the Death Guard toward the target region.
They needed to support other areas, end this battle more quickly, and allow the Imperium to free its hands to deal with new dangers.
Those threats were no less severe than the Chaos Gods.
Eden did not relax his vigilance. He had not yet achieved victory. If he failed to respond in time and overturned at the last moment, the result would be disastrous.
…
New Dragonwood.
Ruins of the Dark Factory.
Waaah!!!
The Noise Marines' massive sonic weapons shattered the forge platforms and Imperial heavy artillery along their path.
They were so deranged that even the hardest alloy struggled to withstand the sonic attacks they built up.
In addition, endless Chaos Daemons continued flooding in, placing enormous pressure on the Ultramarines and Iron Warriors constructing the encirclement.
Boom, boom, boom—
The factory ruins were smashed apart one after another. A black serpentine shadow darted through them, while two towering figures pursued closely behind.
"You Imperial trash think a trap of this level can hold me?!"
Fulgrim fled madly, continuously breaking forward. He was on the verge of escaping the Imperial encirclement.
Even as he broke through, he did not forget to mock Guilliman and Perturabo, and even mocked the Savior and the Emperor of Mankind.
As the most treacherous and cunning of the fallen Primarchs, he had used a substitute to block the Imperium's attack, then exploited the flaw he found to escape the deathtrap.
This Fallen Phoenix was an expert at designing schemes and traps, and he remained constantly vigilant, turning this ambush into a chase.
After his initial losses, he had now become thoroughly composed. He had almost never stepped into another Imperial trap, thanks to a conspirator's keen instincts.
In truth, if the Lord of Pleasure had not taken the lead first, even the Changer of Ways would have wanted to bring this Primarch, who was skilled in schemes, ambushes, and betrayal, under his command.
Not only that, Fulgrim had also destroyed the facilities in some regions during his breakout and summoned more reinforcements from the Chaos coalition.
That gave him a chance to escape danger and regroup with Horus.
"Dismember! Torment!"
Fulgrim's four arms wildly brandished blades, blocking the attacks of Guilliman and Perturabo.
At the same time, he sent the Imperial warriors trying to stop him flying or cut them down. Even some defensive walls could not withstand his charge.
"I must go faster. Otherwise, once Imperial reinforcements arrive, I won't be able to break through the encirclement!"
So Fulgrim thought.
He knew he still risked death. His venomous serpent pupils swept across the surrounding battlefield, searching for a chance to escape alive.
Suddenly, the Fallen Phoenix discovered something. He took a blow from Guilliman head-on and accelerated toward a certain region.
There was hope. That was a sign of the Chaos coalition's arrival!
Soon, a figure holding a long-hafted scythe appeared before everyone, and the Fallen Phoenix rushed over there as well.
He was extremely excited, and his voice became shrill.
"Brother!"
Now that the Death Lord had arrived, he could join forces with him against the False Emperor's dogs. Even if the situation turned bad, Fulgrim could use him to absorb firepower. He only needed to run faster than the other man.
Faced with this ally and prearranged meat shield, his cry of "Brother" was truly heartfelt.
Yet in the very next instant, the Fallen Phoenix's pupils abruptly contracted, and his soul nearly fled his body.
Something was wrong!
He sensed something strange about the Death Lord, and his body's instincts were screaming warnings.
But the distance between the two sides was too close. He could only instinctively raise his slender swords in front of himself.
"Brother?
"You think you're worthy of calling me brother?!"
Mortarion flew into a rage at those words, as if he had suffered some unbearable humiliation. Raging hellfire surged from his body.
He unleashed a ferocious strike. Silence shattered two of the Fallen Phoenix's slender swords and knocked him down into the mechanical ruins.
There was thunderous fury in Mortarion's eyes. What was the Fallen Phoenix? A shameless traitor, a Chaos slave by birth. How was he worthy of calling a returned Primarch like Mortarion brother?
Was that not an insult?
Mortarion was now the Chosen of the Hell King, half an Imperial, and utterly irreconcilable with the Chaos Gods of the Empyrean and the fallen traitors!
"Have you lost your mind?"
Fulgrim shrieked. He had suddenly been attacked by the Death Lord, and he simply found it unbelievable.
In the past, he had always been the one ambushing others. He had never imagined that he would be ambushed this time. What humiliation was this?!
"For… the Emperor!"
Yet before Fulgrim could react, Mortarion raised Silence high and roared, his voice so clear and resolute.
???
That shout stunned Fulgrim outright. Even Guilliman and Perturabo froze. The surroundings fell silent as well.
So loyal!
No one had expected the Death Lord to pull something like this, and even Mortarion himself was stunned.
After all, he was still a Chaos Primarch. He could not truly be counted as someone loyal to the Emperor.
Mortarion held Silence aloft, his entire body frozen midair, realizing that perhaps he had shouted it so often in the previous dream that it had become habit.
So much so that he had blurted it out instinctively.
While everyone was frozen, the Death Guard charged out amid furious roars and threw themselves at the Chaos Daemons.
They stood before the Ultramarines and Iron Warriors who had fallen into danger, slaughtering the enemy with frenzied ferocity.
Their morale in battle was even higher than that of the Imperial warriors.
For a time, the battlefield was filled everywhere with the Death Guard fighting hard. Even the strictest Legion Chaplain would be unable to find any fault in them.
Loyal!
They even stole enemies from the other warriors, wishing they could kill every Daemon and Chaos traitor.
"Damn it, those stinking half-surrendered bastards. Do they really think they're pure-blooded Hell believers now?"
A certain high-ranking Terror Warrior who had come as support saw his chosen enemy snatched away by those newly arrived Death Guard and could not help cursing.
If the believers of Hell were not forbidden from attacking one another, he would have taught those newcomers a proper lesson.
At present, all the various believers of the Hell King had also inherited the bad habits of the old Imperium, forming different ranks and chains of contempt based on origin.
For example, the purest were the Undivided Chaos beings who had first pledged themselves to the Hell King. Next were the other Chaos beings.
As for the Death Guard, who had only recently submitted, they were at the bottom of the contempt chain and needed more battle achievements to prove themselves.
"These poor new arrivals really don't want to let a single battle achievement slip away…"
Another Terror Warrior clad in flaming armor, his special effects pushed to the max, shook his head with considerable emotion.
New Hell believers were all like this. They had been poor for too long before. Now that they had a chance to earn battle achievements, they behaved almost like madmen.
That was the inevitable result. In the past, the Death Guard had worked like illegal laborers under the Plague Lord. The love and blessings they received were pitifully scarce.
Now that they had encountered an existence as generous as the Hell King, how could they not work overtime like mad? They would be embarrassed if they did not kill several more enemies.
Moreover, those battle achievements meant blessings of faith-borne fel energy. Who would not drool at the sight?
Besides, this was also the Death Guard's first battle as warriors of Hell. They hoped to bring more glory to their gene-father.
"Terror! Slaughter!"
As they spoke, that Terror Warrior in flaming armor also howled and charged forward.
He was a bit poor too.
He still had not paid off the blood-point loan on that high-ranking armor of his!
With the arrival of the Death Lord and his Chaos Legion, the battlefield situation instantly reversed, causing the Chaos coalition to collapse completely.
They had lost any possibility of breaking through the encirclement.
"My Legion… has gained stronger combat power."
Mortarion watched the scene, and a trace of joy appeared in his heart. His bitter face could not help easing.
He was feeling the existence of positive emotions more and more.
The Death Guard were not fighting with bitterness and hatred in their hearts. They were fighting for the faith and power within them!
"Brother." Mortarion saw Guilliman and Perturabo, the two loyalist Primarchs who had caught up.
A smile could not help appearing on his face, and he called out "Brother" with warmth, just as he had in the dream.
In truth, during the Death Lord's experiences in the dream, he had formed deep brotherly bonds with Guilliman and Perturabo, the sort of bond where they could entrust their backs to one another.
So much so that when he died in the dream, Guilliman and the others had wailed and cried, growing much thinner from grief.
Mortarion did not know how he knew these things. It was merely instinctive behavior, the influence of his subconscious.
However, when Guilliman heard how the Death Lord addressed him, he froze at once. His originally resolute face twisted.
That bastard had betrayed the Imperium. Betrayed their father. Betrayed humanity.
And now he still dared address him in such a manner, as if none of it had happened?
As if he were worthy?!
"Mortarion, I'll @&% you!"
Irrepressible rage rose in Guilliman's heart. He abruptly drew his sword and was about to charge. "I'll kill you, you pathetic traitor!"
"Brother, don't. Brother, don't." Seeing this, Perturabo hurriedly grabbed Guilliman.
They had all received the Savior's message and knew that the Death Lord had already broken free from the Plague Lord's shackles and become the Chosen of the Hell King.
But the Lord of Iron understood that the loyalist Primarchs' hatred for the fallen Primarchs was very difficult to erase, at least for now.
Even he, an Undivided Chaos Primarch who had successfully returned and was crucial to the Imperium, had not been fully accepted by the other Primarchs.
Due to his own identity, the Lord of Iron had no particular opinion of Mortarion. On the contrary, he was rather welcoming.
Thus, he immediately held Guilliman back to prevent the other man from acting impulsively and affecting the battle plan.
"Pah!" Guilliman stared at the Death Lord and spat, rarely showing such a lack of decorum.
But he also swiftly calmed down. He could not affect Brother Eden's battle plan.
Mortarion stood frozen in place.
The Lord of Ultramar's fury and contempt made him lower his head awkwardly, and his emotions sank somewhat.
But very soon, he straightened his back again. According to the Savior, the Emperor, that father of theirs, had already permitted him to fight for the Imperium.
He was born an Imperial man, and in death he would be an Imperial soul!
Afterward, Guilliman, Perturabo, and Mortarion advanced toward the Fallen Phoenix Fulgrim, who was trapped inside the encirclement. The path of his escape had already been blocked by a large blackstone array.
That bastard had nowhere left to run.
"Heh, can… can we reconcile?" Fulgrim watched this scene, foul blood spilling from his mouth.
Trembling all over, he discarded his broken blades. In this situation, further resistance was meaningless.
Yet even as the Fallen Phoenix trembled, he sneered inwardly.
The schemes of the Chaos Gods and Horus were still advancing, and they had reached a critical juncture.
So long as he delayed a little longer, he could reverse this predicament!
(End of Chapter)
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