Buzzzzzz~
Rot Flies were the most numerous plague creatures.
They swarmed in dense masses, their black-yellow bodies gleaming, each bearing three blood-red rings on their backs—the mark of the Plague God's blessing.
Countless Rot Flies poured out of the rift, covering the skies above this defensive sector, dimming the daylight.
Their incessant buzzing drove men into an indescribable, maddening irritation.
But such effects were nothing to the mighty Adeptus Astartes, especially the further modified Primaris.
"Damn these flies!"
Dovaro spat, raising his bolt rifle as he readied the Primaris for battle:
"Brothers, it's our turn to slaughter to our hearts' content. We absolutely can't lose to those pompous Ogryn next door!"
He didn't much like those Ogryn warriors.
Recently, word somehow reached the Gene-Father Regent that the Nova Marines had been looked down upon by the Ogryn for their lack of culture, thoroughly exposing their poor educational standards.
That Regent had always valued the cultural cultivation of the Astartes, especially the Ultramarines.
They were never meant to be mere killing machines, but should pursue broader development.
The core founding philosophy of the Ultramarines was to build a force that was flexible in thought, highly adaptable, and capable of any action under any circumstance.
Thus, compared to most other Chapters, they placed far greater emphasis on intelligence gathering and planning.
This high standard was not only expected to manifest on the battlefield, but also beyond it, contributing meaningfully to humanity.
Of course, ideals are beautiful—reality is often brutal.
After the Regent wrote his life's condensed wisdom into the Codex Astartes, he got himself killed in a rash moment and lay comatose for ten thousand years.
During that time, much had changed.
Because the Codex was written by their Father himself, the Ultramarines revered it as sacred scripture, following every word to the letter.
Their entire Chapter operated with absolute precision, each member fulfilling their role like parts of a perfectly oiled war machine.
Yet such strict adherence to the Codex brought both strengths and weaknesses.
While it maintained discipline, it also bred rigidity, especially when faced with situations not covered within its pages.
They would often find themselves unprepared, lacking flexibility.
This ran counter to what the Regent originally intended—especially when he awoke to learn that all Ultramarine cultural education was centered solely around the Codex.
He became deeply depressed.
The Codex was massive; memorising and understanding it took so much time that there was little left to learn anything else.
Thus, upon his return, the Regent immediately rescinded much of its content, striving to reform Ultramarine culture.
He wanted them to study more widely.
He even tactfully remarked, "The wise adapt with the times; the learned adjust with circumstances. Don't place blind faith in the naive works I wrote in my youth."
Clearly, he now realised that his Codex had become something of a mess.
At least, the first draft was like that.
The Savior once even pointed at the Codex, earnestly asking the Regent if he intended to continue refining his 'epic masterpiece.' The Regent refused to answer.
It remained one of his few shameful memories.
When word reached him that the Nova Marines had been mocked by Ogryn for lacking culture…
He was in the middle of an enlightening discussion with the Savior about Astartes education, speaking eloquently as if imparting timeless wisdom.
Reportedly, when he heard the news, his face immediately darkened, unable to hide his displeasure.
He held it together until the conversation ended and the Savior departed with a smile. Then he summoned Chapter Master Calgar for a scolding.
The Ultramarines and their successor Chapters had always been famed for their sophistication—yet now even the Ogryn surpassed them.
What a humiliation!
He berated Calgar for laxity in educating his Space Marines, particularly in knowledge and refinement.
Furthermore, the Primaris reinforcements still hadn't fully assimilated into Ultramarine culture.
The Regent issued new orders: not only must the Ultramarines maintain and intensify their education, but all Primaris reinforcements had to undergo cultural training as well.
He also ordered Calgar to visit the Savior's regiments after the war to exchange learning.
This spelled disaster for Dovaro.
This Nova Marines Chapter Master, who had disgraced his Gene-Father and the Regent, was summoned by Calgar for a thorough dressing down.
He was then ordered to study alongside the Ogryn warriors to truly end this humiliation with tangible academic achievement.
The mere thought of himself and his brothers learning poetry, painting, and writing alongside those bizarre Ogryn made Dovaro's skin crawl.
Worse still, their results would be compared against the Ogryn, publicly evaluated.
The Gene-Father himself might even pay attention.
That was torture.
The burly warrior scowled at the Ogryn next door, thinking, Perhaps in knowledge we currently lag behind, but on the battlefield we will not fail again.
As elite warriors under the Regent, to lose both in culture and in combat would be a disgrace beyond measure.
It would bring true shame upon their Gene-Father.
The Ogryn Chapter Master, Gauss, seemed to notice his gaze. He nodded slightly, flashing an elegant, toothy smile.
"Damn it… what the hell have these Ogryn been learning?!"
Seeing that posture almost made Dovaro numb. It was as if Gauss was performing some ancient Imperial noble greeting.
In truth, the Savior had never mandated what the Ogryn should study. They simply pursued what interested them.
Gauss and other studious Ogryn had learned standard Imperial noble etiquette—dining, wine tasting, incense appreciation. Some even mastered musical instruments.
The most outstanding among them had even studied classical piano, a highly refined art of ancient Terra.
Roar—
The growls of Nurgle's zombies brought Dovaro back to his frontline.
The Nova Marines and the Ogryn Chapter split the battlefield in half, each guarding their sector.
Amid the buzzing flies, Plaguebearers mounted on massive flying flies surged forward. On the ground, plague zombies, plague spirits, and Plaguebearers advanced in dense ranks, leaving trails of pus and rotting flesh.
Suddenly, torrents of corrosive filth rained down—the attack of the plague fly cavalry.
Boom boom boom!
The defensive lines' artillery roared, trying to down the airborne cavalry. Yet before the shells even reached them, they were corroded away by warp-taint.
"Librarians, eliminate those flyers!"
Dovaro ordered his Librarians to unleash psychic powers, the only effective counter against daemons.
Yet before his command fully resounded, a burst of psychic light lit up from the Ogryn sector.
Looking over—
Dozens of Ogryn Librarians gripped oversized adamantium staffs, chanting solemn incantations as arcs of psychic lightning danced across their massive frames.
They carefully constructed a psychic array.
The web of psychic lightning swept down entire swarms of Rot Flies, their giant forms exploding midair. Plaguebearer riders crashed into the mire below.
…???
Ogryn had psychic potential? Why had he never seen them use it before?
Moreover, they seemed even more adept at warpcraft than their own Librarians.
Dovaro stared blankly as the Ogryn Librarians not only cleared their own skies but conveniently blasted away swathes of his sector's flies too.
They appeared unstrained.
Perhaps due to their unique physique and brain structure, warp use burdened them less than typical psykers.
Soon, the Nova Marines' Librarians finished off the remaining flyers.
"Form up for assault!"
Dovaro coordinated with their artillery, leading the Primaris in tactical formations to advance. This was their greatest strength.
Nurgle's armies could summon near-endless hordes of plague zombies and plague creatures.
They had to strike rapidly at the enemy's heart to claim victory.
Otherwise, they would be drowned in a tide of filth and decay.
"For the Emperor's great work, for the safety of mankind, for our sworn oaths—forward to glorious sacrifice!"
He and his warriors roared, unleashing torrents of bolter fire.
Dreadnoughts and Centurions led the charge at the fore, hammering a path for their brothers.
Thanks to the Savior's rich logistical support, the Nova Marines now wielded even greater firepower, reacting and advancing at far higher speed.
The Ogryn, meanwhile, employed a similar strategy.
However, they were more conservative, adhering strictly to tactical manuals, progressing at half the speed but with overwhelming firepower.
Their Primaris were nearly as large and heavily armed as standard Dreadnoughts.
They advanced like an unbreakable wall, slowly crushing the plague daemons before them with relentless might.
Completely contrary to the usual brutish image of the Ogryn.
Fueled by rivalry, Dovaro and the Primaris fought with ferocious zeal, destroying several of Nurgle's vital formations with blistering pace.
But soon, true danger descended.
Great Unclean Ones and even mightier greater daemons materialised onto the battlefield, their bizarre corrupting warp energies nullifying all ranged weaponry.
Massive artillery pieces and super-heavy tanks rusted into useless heaps within moments.
BOOM—
Dovaro was struck by a bloated, pestilent fist and sent hurtling backwards.
The impact was so fierce that cracks spidered across his power armour.
The number and power of Nurgle's greater daemons far exceeded all estimates. He was not alone—other Primaris were now locked in desperate melee, casualties mounting rapidly.
"Quickly—fire the sacred cremator shells! All units, fall back and hold the line!"
He immediately ordered mobile units to deploy their limited holy weapons, temporarily halting the plague daemons' advance.
At the same time, he requested support from the Grey Knights.
The Nova Marines held no truly high-tier holy weapons capable of annihilating greater daemons.
And under the protection of the Garden of Nurgle, even their sacred cremator shells' power was heavily diminished—only high-grade versions could deal lethal damage to a Greater Daemon.
Such strategic resources were carried only by the specialised daemon-hunting forces.
Like their Grey Knights brothers.
Perhaps, after a long and bloody battle, the Nova Marines could win alone—but at a horrifying cost in lives.
The Savior and the Regent had jointly issued the operational plan for the Battle of Arcus, which clearly stated that only in the event of total support failure would warriors be permitted to fight with unlimited commitment until death.
That moment had not yet arrived.
Under the cover of holy light, Dovaro and his Primaris fell back behind the defensive lines, unleashing overwhelming firepower to stall the ever-growing tide of Nurgle abominations.
The Great Unclean One and the other Greater Daemons of Nurgle seemed wary, refraining from advancing directly. Instead, they commanded their daemon hordes to continuously weaken the defenses.
Dovaro took this chance to catch his breath, instinctively checking on his battle-brothers in the neighboring sector.
Those Ogryn, favored by the Savior, likely wielded greater holy weapons—perhaps enough to reverse their steadily deteriorating situation.
But to his surprise, the Ogryn were beginning to falter as well.
Under the relentless pressure, their formation started to crumble. Frustration boiled within them.
"RAAAAH!!! Damn it, damn it, you're bullying us too much!!"
Suddenly, Gauss seemed unable to hold back any longer. He threw down his massive boltgun and shield, roaring in a voice filled with indescribable fury.
And he wasn't alone—many other Primaris Ogryn followed suit.
They cast aside their ranged weapons, hefting enormous power axes. Their electronic visors gleamed blood-red, and their power armor whirred ominously.
The Ogryn reverted to their primal selves—only far more terrifying.
"What is this… berserk rage? Bloodlust?"
Dovaro stared in shock.
These four-meter-tall armored Primaris Ogryn abandoned all tactical cohesion, charging with power axes raised in a ferocious counterattack against the Nurgle daemons.
They became flesh-and-metal battering rams.
Even the Ogryn Librarians joined in, swinging their colossal adamantium staves like unstoppable juggernauts.
Any daemon foolish enough to approach was reduced to minced gore.
Several Imperial tanks were accidentally damaged, forcing supporting vehicle crews to hastily retreat to avoid collateral damage.
Some weaker Nurgle daemons outright fled in terror before such overwhelming brutality.
"Merciful Emperor… what are these warriors?!"
A Plaguebearer, its lower body smashed to pulp, dragged its entrails along as it tried to crawl away.
The next second, it was hauled back and crushed to paste.
"Perhaps… this is what those damned Ogryn truly are."
Dovaro felt dazed, as if he were witnessing a legion of oversized Khorne Berzerkers—only with even more terrifying power and momentum.
This was one reason why the Savior had mandated rigorous cultural education for the Ogryn warriors: to temper their volatile hearts.
After their gene-forging enhancements, their inherent aggression had multiplied exponentially.
Thankfully, they still retained enough intelligence to restrain themselves—so long as they weren't overly provoked or subjected to extreme combat stress.
Even so, they were difficult to coordinate with other forces. They had to operate as independent Chapters with separate battle zones.
Now, their rage had been unleashed completely—utterly uncontrollable.
They carved a gory path straight through Nurgle's ranks, heading directly for the Greater Daemons.
"You dare challenge me…?"
The Great Unclean One sneered coldly, raising its pestilent hammer high.
"Plague shall rend more wounds and infections upon you, shattering your armor and flesh!"
The other Nurgle Greater Daemons assumed attack stances, releasing clouds of plague toxins and corrosive acids.
The once-solid ground turned into a putrid swamp, bogging down the Ogryn warriors and dragging them towards doom.
"Can they defeat these abominations…?"
Dovaro fired off another clip of specialized bolts, unease gnawing at his heart.
He doubted it.
Fortunately, the Grey Knights had just finished their own battle and were en route to assist.
BOOM—
A burst of holy light erupted.
Behind the Ogryn lines, a medium holy cremator shell detonated—not targeting any specific daemon, but exploding midair.
It bathed over half the battlefield in radiant sanctity.
Even the Nurgle forces on Dovaro's side were scorched, plague zombies reduced to ash.
Nowadays, holy cremator shells had been adapted for multiple firing methods.
This was mass purification rather than focused assault. It couldn't kill Greater Daemons outright, but it weakened them considerably.
And that was enough.
The corrupted warp energies and plague auras on the battlefield were temporarily cleansed. The swamps trapping the Ogryn vanished.
"For… the Savior!!"
Gauss roared under the holy light, rushing forward to punch the Great Unclean One square in the nose.
Reeling from the blinding radiance, its head snapped back under the force of the blow, staggering backwards.
Gauss and the Ogryn then launched into a frenzied assault on the Greater Daemons. Every axe swing, every punch, inflicted tremendous damage.
These Primaris Ogryn, blessed twice by the Savior, grew even more terrifying in their berserk state—no weaker than any Primaris Space Marine.
Indeed, they were stronger by far.
"No… Merciful Father, I shouldn't have come here… I… I can't even laugh anymore…"
The Great Unclean One desperately tried to shake off Gauss and the rampaging Ogryn, who clung to it like a pack of rabid wolves bringing down a wild boar.
But it was helpless.
With the cursed light temporarily banishing the warp corruption, its strength waned dramatically.
In the end, under the eyes of countless horrified onlookers, it was hacked apart alive.
Its severed head rolled across the ground, lips still twisted in a pained grin.
"Ah… Emperor's madmen… just kill me… I don't want to stay in this damned place anymore…"
At that moment, in its utter weakness, it longed to be banished back to Nurgle's Garden.
Soon, its wish was granted—but not in the way it hoped.
A small holy cremator shell detonated at point-blank range, obliterating its head and annihilating its very soul.
The Ogryn warriors eliminated every Greater Daemon on that battlefield—whether by banishment or total destruction.
Covered head-to-toe in gore and putrid blood, they had devastated the entire enemy front.
Then their blood-red eyes turned towards the remaining Nurgle abominations nearby.
"Merciful Father in heaven…"
Those Great Unclean Ones and Greater Daemons poised to attack the Nova Marines froze in terror under those murderous gazes.
Not long after—
WHRRMMM!
The air itself trembled as a psychic lightning-wreathed teleportarium ignited.
THOOM THOOM THOOM—
"For the Savior!"
The Grey Knights Grand Master and his warriors materialized in crackling blue lightning, slamming down in kneeling stances.
In unison, they praised the mighty Savior.
They stood proud, their heavy Terminator armor now adorned with the Savior's symbols, each bearing launchers loaded with holy cremator shells of varying sizes—exposed openly like sacred ornaments.
Their arrival alone was enough to send daemons fleeing in terror.
These were the Holy Heavy Assault Grey Knights.
Grand Master Coven had acted swiftly, appealing to the Savior's unmatched power and mercy, securing vital supplies of holy munitions.
For the defense of Arcus.
The Savior had committed more than half of his entire century-old cremator shell reserves here, granting a third directly to these daemon-slaying specialists.
Henceforth, the Seventh Brotherhood of the Grey Knights was fully sponsored by the Savior, becoming the ultimate daemon-hunters.
They had become his champions.
"Praise be to the Savior…"
Grand Master Coven murmured reverently. His loyalty to the provider of their sacred weapons—indeed, their benefactor—was absolute.
He had sworn a holy pact with the Savior. All future supplies of holy cremator shells for the Grey Knights would flow through him.
The other Brotherhoods would have to come to him to obtain such divine arms.
His status rose immensely. Even the Supreme Grand Master now spoke to him with hushed respect.
He cut off the comms from the Fifth Brotherhood, who, as guardians of the gene-seed and Chapter treasury, had often treated him coldly.
He felt immense relief. Had he not acted swiftly, he would have missed this chance to ally with the Savior.
"Where are the Nurgle daemons?"
Grand Master Coven's mind raced back to the present. Moments ago, he had received the Nova Marines' distress call.
But when he saw the battlefield before him, he was stunned.
A group of Ogryn warriors were pummelling the Greater Daemons into oblivion while Dovaro and his men could only provide ranged support, watching the daemons howl in agony.
Dovaro noticed the arrival of the Grey Knights and spoke respectfully:
"Grand Master, we require no assistance here. Please deploy to where you're most needed."
"By the Emperor… truly, the Savior's warriors are unmatched."
Grand Master Coven breathed out in awe. Nowadays, every word from his lips began and ended with praise for the Savior.
No Grey Knight could resist the allure of weapons that allowed them to smash daemons without restraint—nor the new tactical possibilities such armaments unlocked.
Thus, Coven and his Grey Knights teleported to another embattled front.
As these warriors, laden with cursed-class explosives, appeared, the Nurgle daemons there scattered like terrified vermin.
…
On this battlefield,
Dovaro fired the last bolter rounds to help the Ogryn finish off the final Greater Daemon.
"Emperor above…"
He swallowed hard.
For the Ogryn's eyes still burned with berserk fury—and now, they turned towards him.
(End of Chapter)
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