Fortunately, Gauss and the other berserker Ogryn warriors only stared at them, showing little desire to attack.
Their attention quickly shifted to the remaining Nurgle daemons.
They began to hunt down those terrified daemons, who shrieked in panic as they fled.
"Thank the Emperor they're maintaining basic rationality…"
Dovaro let out a sigh of relief.
He and the Primaris had quieted down, slowly retreating further back, afraid of angering those damned Ogryns.
"Boss, does this mean we just lost to the Ogryns?" asked one of the Primaris of the Nova Marines, his face contorted with bitterness.
Now, the Nova Marines weren't just losing to the Ogryns in cultural studies – even their combat prowess paled miserably.
Those berserker warriors had seized the most glory and kills.
"Well… it's not exactly a loss…"
Dovaro took a deep breath, trying to explain. "Space Marines can't be said to lose so easily."
He went on with further reasoning – "berserker bloodlust," "the Emperor above, it's not normal," "we still have a chance."
But his words only made the Primaris hang their heads lower, awkwardness thickening the air.
"Sigh…"
Dovaro pushed aside the corpse of a corrupted giant fly and slumped down upon the ruins. "Brothers, our future days will be rough…"
Because of the previous Ogryn mockery incident,
The Nova Marines had become the epitome of 'uneducated outsiders' among the Ultramarines successors, drawing the direct attention of the Imperial Regent.
From now on, they would be training and studying alongside the Ogryns, almost completely bound to them – every word and action under the scrutiny of the Regent and others.
Worse yet, when compared to those Ogryns, who were subhuman abhumans, it implied pure-blooded humans were inferior to them.
The more glorious the Ogryns became, the dimmer these Primaris seemed.
The Imperium placed extreme importance on genetics.
People would wonder – "They're both sons of the Primarchs' gene-seed, how can there be such a gap? Is it the genes themselves?"
It was precisely the hope in Primarch genetics that allowed the Ogryns to undergo rebirth, yet even these elite enhanced with the Regent's gene-seed couldn't match them.
This brought shame to the Imperial Regent.
At this point, the Nova Marines weren't just representing themselves; they carried the reputation of the Ultramarines and all Ultramarine successors.
Everyone hoped the Nova Marines could reclaim their honor.
Which meant Captain Calgar would be drilling them relentlessly from now on.
"Damn Ogryns…"
Thinking of what lay ahead, Dovaro wore a mask of misery, his chest tightening with frustration.
Suddenly, melodious music drifted from the side.
The Ogryns had finished their battle and gathered together, playing hymns praising the Savior to calm their previous rage.
They tried hard to restore their rationality, looking refined and graceful.
Aside from the blood and gore staining their armor, one could barely tell they had been rampaging berserkers moments earlier.
Drizzle fell from the sky.
Perhaps the atmospheric regulators malfunctioned, because this rain laced with diluted purifying agents fell only on the Nova Marines' side.
Dovaro and his brothers stood in the cold rain, feeling chills seep into their hearts.
He gritted his teeth and looked at the Primaris. "In the name of our gene-father and the Imperial Regent, we must give it our all.
Whatever the Ogryns learn, we'll learn it too – and we'll do it better.
I refuse to believe we can't surpass them!"
This decision of their Captain birthed yet another multi-talented, yet utterly bizarre, Chapter in the galaxy…
...
Grand Cathedral
At this moment, the cathedral was under full lockdown. Suspended in the skies above it was a colossal corruption engine nearly a kilometer tall, dwarfing any corruption engine seen before.
It was the core of the corruption network for the entire planet – perhaps even the whole sector – fused into local space through some chaotic technology, its three massive legs anchored deep into the void.
Originally hidden, it had been detected by the Savior's reconnaissance units using their arcane detection constructs.
As soon as it was discovered, it sensed the threat and activated.
A dreadful tolling rang out from the corruption engine, as though a countdown had begun.
The scythe-shaped hands on its three clock faces spun backwards at a frenzied pace, while its hollow sphere pulsed with a migraine-inducing rhythm, vomiting vile liquids that spread corrosive warp energy outward.
Behind it, the phantom image of Nurgle's Garden grew ever clearer.
"Hurry, form up the defensive lines!"
Tens of thousands of elite Space Marines and Primaris quickly deployed into strategic positions, ready to repel whatever daemons might emerge.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Holy bone-ash shells rained down upon the corruption engine, gradually weakening the warp-shield Nurgle's Garden had conjured to protect it.
Under the burning radiance of the Emperor, the warp-shield quivered like cracking glass, close to shattering.
Whoosh!
A resplendent shuttle descended onto the cathedral plaza, and from its boarding ramp strode the Savior clad in dark gold power armor, his mere presence awe-inspiring.
He gazed upwards at the solidifying phantom of Nurgle's Garden, brows furrowing.
"The corruption engine is anchoring a portal from Nurgle's Garden. We must destroy it immediately."
Eden finally understood why this planet fell so swiftly in the original timeline.
Once this abomination fully anchored the Garden's portal, Nurgle's daemons could flood through unopposed, and no matter how vast the Imperial forces were, they would be overwhelmed.
Moreover, the corruption energies of Nurgle's Garden would transform the planet into a plague world, making it impossible for Imperial forces to remain.
They would be forced to retreat.
Luckily, he had exposed the corruption engine early, buying precious time.
But not much time remained.
For he could already see dots in the phantom – massive Plague Hulks and even greater entities lurking, ready to step across at any moment.
Nevertheless, with two Primarchs defending Arkis, their chances of victory were vastly improved.
"The Regent has already gone ahead with the Sisters of Silence. He is waiting for you inside…"
Marneus Calgar, Chapter Master of the Ultramarines and second-in-command of Ultramar, stood ready, giving a slight bow.
As he did so, his gaze fell upon the Savior's weapons – Honour and The Arbitrator – legendary arms once beloved by their gene-father, Roboute Guilliman.
Calgar's eye twitched, struggling to maintain composure.
Ever since their Primarch's stasis, these two relics had been kept in the Primarch Museum, lovingly maintained.
During the Battle of Macragge, however, they had vanished – stolen by some unknown entity along with other priceless artifacts.
Calgar had repented for decades, weighed down by guilt.
For half a century, the Ultramarines searched, but the relics remained lost.
Some clues had even pointed towards the Hope Primarch, the Devourer of Sorcery.
Yet with no concrete evidence, they could not risk an accusation that would offend a Primarch.
Now, the truth was clear.
"By the Emperor… it was the Savior who stole them!"
Calgar screamed inwardly, though his face remained neutral, forcing himself not to react.
His eyes fixated on the relics as he stammered, "My lord, these weapons…"
"Oh, these?"
Eden patted the weapons at his hip, smiling warmly. "I found them on Macragge. Turns out they're quite handy."
Calgar froze. That answer blindsided him. He cursed internally:
"This being just admitted it. Did he 'find' them in the Primarch Museum's relic hall? Why not take the Primarch's throne too while he's at it?!"
Thinking of all the blame and guilt he had borne over the years, Calgar felt a pang of sorrow.
"What is it? Is there a problem?"
The Savior's eyes were pure and unclouded, as though there was nothing wrong with picking up some equipment.
"No… nothing at all, my lord. Please follow me, the Regent awaits you inside."
Calgar didn't press the matter. This was beyond his authority.
After all, who could accuse the Hope Primarch of theft?
Moreover, this very being had once crossed the galaxy to save their gene-father.
Eden, accompanied by his Thunderguard Champions, followed Calgar into the sealed sanctum, the air immediately growing foul.
Corruption and blasphemy stained every surface.
They soon found the Regent, Roboute Guilliman, standing before an inverted, eldritch altar, guarded by the Sisters of Silence.
Their silent presence shielded him from the worst of the warp energies.
Indeed, where the Sisters stood, the corruption was pushed back, and the air itself felt cleaner.
Eden found himself wondering if he should cultivate his own cadre of Sisters of Silence. Even just carrying them around as mobile air purifiers would be worthwhile.
His gaze fell upon the altar.
It was carved with three red circles symbolizing the Plague God, foul runes pulsing with pestilent energies.
A wooden statue of the Emperor, arms outstretched in blessing, had been hung upside down upon the altar. Its head, hands, and feet had been severed, and the rest of it bore marks of desecration.
Beside it stood small statues of loyalist Primarchs, each likewise defiled to varying degrees.
Among them, Eden saw his own statue – sculpted with lifelike precision.
"So this is what my brother is using to taint this world."
Regent Roboute Guilliman stared at the corrupting engine above, then spoke softly:
"Yet back during the Council of Nikaea, the one who most opposed the Librarius and psychic powers… was him.
Now he has fallen so far, none would recognize him."
"Perhaps soon," Eden said, "we can catch that bastard, and show him what true regret feels like."
He had already prepared a special "Emperor's Love" holy bone-ash warhead for that giant flapping moth – it would let Mortarion feel the Emperor's affection in full.
He could hardly wait.
"Mortarion is not here."
Guilliman turned to face the Savior. "If he were, I would sense his presence…"
He had hoped to face his fallen brother, to end this madness swiftly.
Though Mortarion had poured vast resources and effort into this hospital world of Arkis, he seemed unwilling to appear here in person.
"Then let's just destroy this damned place. It's about time."
Eden could feel the warp-shield weakening, nearly ready to shatter. Once it fell, they could strike directly at the corruption engine.
Once its core was destroyed, Arkis would finally be secured.
As he finished speaking, warning signals rang out on the vox channels, alerting all warriors beneath the corruption engine to brace for collapsing structures.
BOOM—
The warp-shield shattered like foam.
Shockwaves from the bombardment brought down the cathedral's dome, revealing more of the sky and the towering corruption engine.
Chains of plague-energy spread outward, linking the engine to the altar below.
RUMBLE!
Eden used his psychic powers to block and disintegrate falling debris, while the Space Marines around him dealt with rubble in their own ways.
"This sword can end it."
Guilliman drew the Emperor's Sword with practiced grace, its blade igniting the instant it cleared the scabbard.
"No wonder it's the most legendary weapon of the Imperium… That's intense."
Eden watched the burning blade dance with flames, feeling a twinge of envy.
It was like an eternal burning holy light, an endlessly refilling single-target holy bone-ash warhead.
He was curious about how exactly the Emperor's Sword burned like that. Its mechanisms were hidden within the blade and hilt, invisible from the outside.
But surely it involved some warp-craft, not mere science.
Sadly, Old Roboute treasured that sword too much to ever let him study it.
Probably because this Savior had a record of "borrowing" things and never returning them – or disassembling them and failing to reassemble.
If that happened, Guilliman really would cry himself to death.
"You are not welcome here."
Guilliman raised the flaming sword high, its sacred light banishing all shadows.
He glared at the altar and the rune chains linking it to the corruption engine.
"Begone. All of you. Return to the Warp!"
Then, with a simple swing,
The Emperor's Sword, a bane to Chaos itself, easily sliced through every rune chain, severing all connections.
Activating his jump pack, Guilliman launched himself upward, flying straight at the corruption engine in the sky.
Golden flames erupted along the machine as the Emperor's Sword sliced cleanly through one of its colossal legs like a hot knife through butter. Corroded parts crashed down.
With one leg gone, the engine tilted precariously. Its ticking clockwork lost rhythm, and the vile liquid sloshed violently within its hollow sphere.
Guilliman exhaled, preparing to attack again—
But the Savior's voice came through urgently:
"Old Roboute, MOVE!"
He instinctively glanced down. His brother stood there, hefting a massive launcher, its front assembly unfolding to reveal multiple warheads.
Realizing what was coming, Guilliman quickly dove aside.
BOOM BOOM BOOM—
First came a barrage of holy bone-ash rounds, striking the engine at multiple points to weaken its warp defences, followed by a salvo of melta warheads.
The melta missiles utterly melted the engine's key structural nodes. The entire monstrosity collapsed with a deafening crash, sending dust and debris billowing skyward.
"See? This thing always does the job. Otherwise Old Roboute would be hacking away till next year."
Eden discarded the launcher and dusted off his hands.
He eyed the fallen ruin and reminded everyone:
"Don't just burn all this junk. We need to salvage it for research later. Find a way to infiltrate their corruption networks."
Besides smaller intact corruption machines, these giant constructs were valuable for study too.
In the Black Abyss, Zaraphiston and the tech-priests were already assembling a special project team to analyze them, with the Black Iron Queen coming to assist.
Of course, that wasn't free. He'd have to pay… with his charm.
Guilliman landed beside him, frowning.
"I have a bad feeling. This isn't over yet…"
"Everyone, evacuate the area around the ruins, NOW!"
Eden instantly went on full alert, ordering all warriors to retreat to a safe distance.
Danger was coming – and something BIG.
In his experience, you could ignore most warnings… but never Old Roboute's.
Even he, a man accustomed to stepping on traps, felt dread. That meant it was real – as real as causality itself, an ironclad prophecy born from Guilliman's countless ambushes and beatings.
"All units, activate maximum defence protocols. Full combat readiness!"
Without waiting for any visible threat, Eden initiated every defensive and offensive measure they had.
Hundreds upon hundreds of super-heavy artillery pieces, dozens of different holy bone-ash warheads, all primed and aimed at the ruin site.
The Grey Knights, encrusted with sacred relics, braced themselves.
With two Primarchs and such overwhelming firepower, no daemon could hope to leave alive.
"Sigh… what a waste."
Eden stood beside Guilliman, a little regretful.
All this was prepared for Mortarion himself. Now, who knew which of Nurgle's favoured children would die instead?
The instant the defences went live, a surge of warp energy erupted from the ruined clock, foul winds blasting out in all directions.
"My Lord, a rift is forming! We can't shut it down!"
The chief psyker stumbled back, arcs of flickering psychic lightning whipping across the cathedral's shattered stones.
He looked near collapse.
Thankfully, Eden extended his psychic powers, steadying the psyker and saving his life.
The unnatural winds howled with brutal force.
The Thunder Warriors and Grey Knights bowed their heads against it, boots grinding sparks from the stone floor as they were pushed back.
Guilliman planted the Emperor's Sword into the ground, golden flames coiling outward to form a radiant shield against the storm.
Eden stood behind him, eyes fixed upon the rift.
"I am the Fifth Favoured of the Plague Father… the Second Fallen One…"
A screeching, terrifying voice echoed from within the warp breach, curling around every listener, filling them with dread.
"I am the Guardian of Final Moments. I cannot be slain. I have seen the end of time itself, when every atom has rotted away to nothingness…"
From the rift flowed thick, tar-black corruption, coating the ruined engine, darkening and fusing it further.
It reshaped into a monstrous, demonic form.
Black, rotting skin spread across twisted metal and broken masonry, gears spinning within its heart, while brass and iron formed claws.
Massive daemon wings sprouted within seconds, their uneven bones cracking loudly.
Finally, a skull-like horse's head emerged, yellow mist burning within its sockets, radiating unending malice.
A foul fusion of man and horse, a vile child of Nurgle, now stood before them, reeking of putrid death.
Behind it, more Nurgle daemons appeared.
Simultaneously, the once-fading image of Nurgle's Garden reemerged in the sky, dominating the heavens.
Everyone could now clearly see seven gargantuan rotting void whales – Plague Hulks – drifting closer.
Each one larger than an Imperial battleship.
These were Nurgle's true armies. The Plague Hulks seemed ready to crash directly onto the planet from the rift.
ROAR—
The hideous creature stepped forward, glaring at them all as it bellowed:
"I am Karama, your executioner. I shall bury you all!"
The Fifth Favoured Son's roar silenced everything, the world plunging into stillness.
"Seriously, what the hell are you idiots doing?!"
The Savior's voice cut through, filled with disappointed scolding, entirely out of place.
Karama and the other Great Unclean Ones froze, turning their gazes toward him.
But he wasn't looking at them.
Such utter disregard sent Karama into a rage, yellow mist snorting from his nostrils.
"SAVIOR?!"
The golden shielded figure remained immersed in his vox communications.
"Hurry up, Mechanicus. The Abominants are already in place. If they get away, I'm blaming you."
"…???"
Karama and his fellow daemons suddenly felt an ominous chill.
In that instant, everything turned dazzlingly bright.
HUM—
Far in the distance, a hidden Sanctified Tower Core blazed forth, channeling its holy light to the rhomboid mechanical towers around the cathedral.
These towers projected barrier after barrier of interlocking light, encircling the ruins.
The searing sacred brilliance formed a colossal ring, closing tighter and tighter around the darkness within.
It illuminated countless gleaming holy bone-ash warheads arrayed around them.
Eden finally finished his transmission and raised his eyes to the grotesque daemon before him.
"Oh, was it you calling me? What can I do for you?"
Karama stared at the blinding walls of cursed energy and cursed weapons encircling him like a fugitive trapped in a spotlight.
In that moment, all his fearsome majesty crumbled before the Savior's gaze.
He instinctively took a heavy step back, the ground trembling beneath him.
"…I think I came at the wrong time…"
(End of Chapter)
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