The Creators: From Night City

Page 530

The leathery skin cracked open, revealing honeycomb-like pores and spongy mycelium.

Dense clouds of colorful spores began to escape wildly from these holes, while more viscous "pus" full of active spores was secreted from the mycelium of the sponge paper, falling onto the fungal carpet and growing into countless bizarre and twisted fighting weapons.

For players who prefer a farming-style strategy, engaging in melee combat is unwise; massing troops and pushing forward is the proper and orthodox approach.

Having learned his lesson, the 'spore father' decisively changed tactics.

Unfortunately, the Astartes were no pushovers. Their frenzied firepower was like a torrential downpour, relentlessly annihilating the fungal minions rapidly proliferating from the 'Spore Father'.

More importantly, 'Spore Father's' opponent is a necromancer, and using a swarm tactic against Rasmar is simply going against the grain.

Chapter 1074 The Spark and Total War.

Corpse Explosion.

The signature skills of necromancers from various planes.

Rasma certainly could, and his skill was truly superb.

The minions spawned by 'Spore Father' possess incomplete souls and abundant vitality. After unexpectedly fulfilling all the requirements of 'Corpse Explosion', the dense formation of monsters caused Rasmar's spellcasting to produce a terrifying chain reaction.

The menacing bone scythe gently hooked a mushroom-man, and the injected magic, after a short delay, directly exploded the opponent's body.

This magic was like a seed, planted in the bodies of the unfortunate souls killed by the explosion, and then grew rapidly until it exploded again.

One monster after another exploded. Under Rasmar's abundant magical attack, 'Sporefather' was like sitting in a fireworks warehouse, surrounded by dense explosions and bombarded for several minutes before finally being blown into a pile of rotten cow dung.

Among the Great Impure Ones, 'Spore Father's' combat power is the worst, but the reason he can still hold his position as a 'Great Impure One' is because of his shameless regenerative ability.

The underground exchange station, located 400 kilometers underground, has been completely overrun by various fungi. As long as there is a patch of fungi, the 'Spore Father' can re-form from it, a fantastical version of blood rebirth.

But madness has its limits, and demonic madness has its end. As a master of manipulating souls, Rasmar's great scythe cuts down 'Spore Father's' soul like stalks of leeks.

What pains the demon even more than the disintegration of the body is that the soul is treated like dough for slicing noodles and constantly being shredded.

Even more painful than that was that those fragments of souls ended up in the hands of a necromancer master skilled in curses.

It could be said that 'Sporefather' never returned to Nurgle's Garden before his death. Although his soul was not annihilated by the Aether Flame and the Emperor's psychic power, it was shattered and destroyed by a necromancer in a more cruel way.

Its physical body, however, had the honor of becoming one of the first victims of 'root digging'.

The underground fungal forest, which flourished abnormally due to psychic powers, was ultimately destroyed by a magical potion.

It was as if another invisible hand had stripped these twisted plants of their color. With just a drop of 'Root Digging', the 'Spore Father's' body rapidly faded along with the vast fungal forest.

Death was fairly bestowed upon all plants by the necromancer.

Withered, the plants entered into eternal slumber, an end that Nurgle could not allow.

The vast ocean, a corner of the highest heaven.

Here, all things lose their form, becoming formless, shapeless, and without a past.

The Plague Garden of Nurgle.

A paradise filled with rotting swamps, giant mushrooms, swarms of plague flies, and ever-growing deformed creatures, the "Cauldron of Life" is constantly boiling, each rising bubble releasing tens of thousands of deadly plagues and diseases that echo at the nose of a seemingly foolish and obese great being.

This enormous boiling cauldron, over a long period of time, constantly churned by the eternal turmoil of Nurgle, continuously produces new plagues, viruses, and bizarre life forms.

Negro stirred the ladle, surrounded by his many favorite unclean beings.

He looked lovingly at his child, at everything decaying, yet there was no end in sight, no end known as extinction.

Life and death achieve a harmonious unity here, and all things continue to "survive" happily amidst extreme decay.

But soon, a cruel, mournful wind blew past the Howling Willow, past the Gaze Flower that resembled a festering eye, and from the abscess mountain range composed of hardened pus, calcified bones, and rotting tissue. It originated from the mountain caves filled with fungi and growing filthy mushrooms, swept over the bubbling pools of pus in the festering swamp and the miasma that emitted a sweet, foul stench, and followed the viscous river mixed with various bodily fluids such as pus, blood, and bile, blowing into the twisted forest covered with suppurating tumors, reaching the ears of the 'Father'.

In this eternally decaying garden, a cruel void was born, a concept forbidden by the garden's owner—death—suddenly intruded into this 'beautiful' garden.

Although 'Sporefather' is not the most beloved unclean being of Nurgle, it is still His child.

Its passing ignited an uncontrollable rage in the loving father.

The plague flies and the filthy spirits shrank back, the swamp spirits and rotting corpses immersed their bodies in pus, the rotting ferryman stopped rocking his bone oars, and the unclean ones were filled with righteous indignation, wanting to avenge their benevolent father.

The great Plague Lord, unusually, stopped stirring the pot, angrily turning his gaze away from the endless bubbles and towards the real world, towards the place where the 'Spore Father' perished.

Then, a terrifying psionic storm swept across the vast ocean, distorting the veil between the two worlds. The immense power even caused various anomalies in the real world's Alarius.

The underground water exchange station, which bears the brunt of the pollution, has attracted most of the attention.

A cloying, putrid stench invaded reality from nothingness, permeating everyone's nostrils. All inorganic creations began to subtly "grow" into decaying organic matter; broken pipes, metal walls, and cold buildings began to frantically grow flesh and blood.

A benevolent voice whispered in the ears of all the Ultramarines, while endless illusions began to encroach upon them.

Titus frowned as he watched planets transform into enormous, rotting fruits floating in a purulent universe, stars into pulsating green pustules hanging in the sky, providing dim "growth light," cities into coral-like, decaying structures, and all the coral polyps into wailing, rotting souls.

He saw the souls of his companions permanently woven into the ecosystem of the Plague Garden, becoming a weeping tree, a drop of pus, a plague fly, trapped in an eternal trance of consciousness.

None of this happened; it was merely a reflection of Nurgle's gaze through the veil.

But all of this is possible; at the very least, their souls have been reflected in the loving father's vision.

The mutation was beginning uncontrollably. Various models of Mark armor were rapidly corroding, growing bulging flesh and pustules. The bodies of the Ultramarines were swelling and rotting like the corpses of giants.

Rasmar, the demon slayer who had always appeared harmless, revealed his full power for the first time when faced with the boundless malice emanating from the High Heaven.

A thriving gray magic permeated every corner of the underground chamber, and a magnificent concept, both divine and demonic, suddenly arose.

The souls of all the Ultramarines were instantly freed from the illusions woven by Nurgle and arrived in the wilderness of the dead.

Their deformed bodies and flesh fell under Rasmar's control, were imbued with his magic, and became the battlefield where he wrestled with the will of Nurgle.

The loving father was astonished that such a powerful being existed in the real universe, but Rasma felt nothing but endless disgust for this pot-bellied ancestor.

One is inherently twisted in his ability to maintain the balance between life and death, while the other is determined to uphold it; the two are practically natural enemies.

However, the next confrontation wouldn't require the first Nephalem to lift a finger. The Emperor, who had been lying in wait in the Warp, was just waiting for Nurgle, this cowardly turtle, to finally peek out.

Endless light and heat transformed into a long, fiery river, rising from the starlight of Holy Terra, passing through the great vortex of the warp, and crashing fiercely into Nurgle's domain.

The light and heat fell into the garden, transforming into countless cursed warriors engulfed in pale flames, who immediately unleashed indiscriminate slaughter and destruction upon landing.

A phantom burning with golden flames rose from within the Star Torch and simultaneously rushed into Nurgle's Garden, kicking the other's protruding head back into place.

The atmosphere of Alarius in the real world suddenly cleared up.

As Tzeentch, who was watching the battle, extended a tentacle toward the star torch that was radiating intense heat, a pale, flaming sword emerged from it and severed Tzeentch's bird claw.

The pale flame giant emerged from the warp and stood upright, seemingly confronting the three gods across the great vortex!

The true identity of the golden figure is undoubtedly Jiang Bing.

On the Glory of Macragge, a glint of light suddenly flashed from the crown atop Guilliman's head, causing the Primarch, who had been lost in thought, to abruptly open his eyes.

He stood up, already fully armed, clearly having waited for this moment for a long time.

The entire fleet's broadcast communications were activated, and Guilliman decisively announced the order to begin the attack.

The passing of 'Spore Father' was, unfortunately, the catalyst for this tragedy.

The massive combined fleet, together with Jiang Bing, pressed forward in two dimensions.

Chapter 1075 The War Will Eventually Begin

The war is raging.

From the frigid universe to the orbital platform of Alarius, and even in the vast space beyond the planet, fierce battles have already begun.

The combined fleet immediately engaged in a firefight with the Death Guard's warships stationed in Alarius upon advancing forward.

The colossal Plague Ark and the bloated Plague Ships, like rotting whales in space, continuously spewed corrosive slime, clouds of diseased spores, and swarms of Narghun flies, attempting to approach the Combined Fleet.

However, the physical bullets of the Imperial Cannon, the intense white light of the Light Spear, and the blue light of the plasma illuminated the entire space in which the enemy attacked, annihilating these unstable factors early on.

Led by the Makurag Glory, the combined fleet formed a classic arc-shaped formation. Under Guilliman's command, the firepower of each ship was clearly differentiated, and they worked together to deliver deadly firepower precisely to the enemy.

Guilliman did not rush into action for personal gain, but instead chose to prioritize purifying the battlefield environment and maintaining distance between fleets.

The long-range firepower composed of countless light spears and torpedoes, like a giant outstretched hand of the fleet, attempted to destroy or paralyze the most "toxic" biological plague ships from a safe distance. At the same time, a large number of fighter jets and assault boats were also trying to intercept incoming plague spores and virus torpedoes, clearing obstacles from the way forward.

The main force of the Plague Fleet was not indifferent either. These ships were like living, festering organisms, charging forward relentlessly despite the harassment of the Empire's long-range firepower, attempting to get close and fire.

The Void Shield was activated early on by every ship on both sides. Whether it was the Empire's macro cannons and light spears, or the Plague Fleet's acid cannons, pus cannons, and plague jets, they were all thrown into space by both sides. They flew across the narrow distance, either missing their target or being neutralized by the Void Shield.

As the starry sky was illuminated, Guilliman, using the lives of countless people as a bargaining chip, began his graceful dance.

The reforged Primarch's body allowed him to stand like a true god on the flagship Macragge's Glory, boosting morale.

The massive torrent of data is also gathered here, and then processed by Guilliman into correct response instructions, which are then sent out in all directions.

The fleet maintained an offensive posture, advancing and retreating continuously, trying to keep its distance from the plague fleet and leaving enough firing range for them to engage in combat.

Centered on the fortress world of Alarius, the Allied Fleet began a brutal head-on confrontation with the enemy.

Guilliman deployed a large number of strike ships, light patrol ships, and high-speed scout ships, which patrolled around the battlefield and skillfully used asteroids, orbital debris, and even the planet Alarius as cover to annihilate the Plague Fleet's ships that were isolated in the planet's orbit.

The Nurgle forces, having occupied the planet's orbit, simultaneously faced a fierce counterattack from the planet's defenders, and the orbital elevators in various war zones were subjected to intense attacks.

As if by prior arrangement, the planet's defenders surged out of the underground fortress and, with the combined forces of the fleet working from within and without, launched a frenzied attack on the lost orbital platform.

Meanwhile, the Plague Fleet's massive main force was constantly being towed by Guilliman's combined fleet and a dozen or so heavy combat barges, primarily the Macragge, as they locked in a fierce battle, gazing at each other and exchanging devastating fire in the sea of ​​stars.

Even in the distant 41K era, war reverted to the pattern of firing squads.

Ships were continuously targeted by concentrated fire, and the Void Shield was rapidly overloaded.

With the support of Guilliman's massive data processing capabilities, rationality, order, and efficiency were brought to their fullest potential by the Combined Fleet. The massive fleet functioned as a harmonious whole, cooperating, covering each other, sharing firepower, and rationally absorbing enemy damage.

Under Guilliman's masterful micromanagement, these overloaded ships would be moved to the rear of the fleet immediately to get a brief respite, while other ships would fill the gaps.

The Plague Fleet, on the other hand, lacks such fine micromanagement. They rely on their own powerful vitality. With the ship's Void Shield overloaded, when the main body is hit, they can often still absorb and "digest" the huge damage thanks to their thick, sickly armor, and survive the Void Shield's cooldown period. When a macro cannon hits a living hull, it may blast open a wound oozing pus, but the ship itself will most likely still be able to stagger forward and maneuver until it successfully restarts the shield.

This meant that casualties on both sides were relatively controllable in the early stages of the war.

But both sides knew that this was just an appetizer.

The two massive fleets were locked in a fierce battle, neither willing to retreat; it was a fight to the death.

A silent brilliance erupted amidst the galaxy, and a long and brutal tug-of-war unfolded silently in this star field, like a cruel space opera.

There are no shortcuts in war; death is an essential cost in order to achieve victory.

At the same time, death is the least significant thing on this battlefield.

Whenever a human empire ship is destroyed, hundreds of thousands, even millions, of humans perish.

Whenever a ship of the Plague Fleet is blasted into space debris, an equal number of Chaos Believers and Deformed Demons die.

In the struggle for control of the outer orbit of Alarius, the blood of human soldiers and Nurgle demons flowed simultaneously across every step and corner of the orbit.

The emperor, a gambler at the gambling table, had been frugal and thrifty for thousands of years, waiting for this moment. The mountain of chips in front of him, accumulated one by one over the long years, was simply pushed over, and he went all in on this gamble.

The Plague Fleet showed no intention of backing down; Mortarion clearly understood where his advantage lay.

The massive plague fleet, with a resolute attitude, plunged straight into the heart of the Allied Fleet.

Without any encirclement, guerrilla tactics, or other tactical maneuvers, Motari remained as calm as a dog, openly displaying an attitude of "no matter what paths you take, I will go my own way," and went all in.

Both sides had thoroughly understood the terrain of the entire battlefield. In this game, which was almost entirely open, neither side seemed to have many ways to cheat.

Ultimately, the battle will be decided in a bloody, brutal, and terrifying close-quarters dogfight.

Just like two boxers, no matter how much taunting they make before the fight or how much fun they use off-field tactics, the outcome is still decided by the hard-hitting, flesh-and-blood battle.

Thus, a vortex of death quickly took shape.

Around the fortress world of Alarius, two massive fleets collided almost directly, maintaining only the closest safe distance for maneuver. They intertwined and mixed together, engaging in a chaotic melee of bayonet charges and cannon fire.

And this is the norm in the Warhammer world.

Chapter 1076 Moral Guilt Cannot Bind a Morally Unethical Person

Everyone loves and uses the idea of ​​switching sides, but fundamentally, it's all because Warhammer has its own unique national circumstances.

The existence of Void Shields and similar equipment makes it extremely difficult for a ship to be forcibly destroyed by enemy fire from the front.

The existence of this shield device renders most ranged attacks ineffective. To overload the power supply system that maintains the Void Shield field, the attacker would need to expend several times, or even dozens of times, the amount of firepower and time required.

Compared to the time, effort, and cost of the aforementioned actions, the boarding maneuver tactic is simple, direct, brutal, and cost-effective.

This has led to a situation where everyone from the Primarchs and the Emperors down to the Astartes, the Astral Army, and the Moguls all follow the logic of 'when in doubt, switch sides to solve the problem'.