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Led by the few remaining, still-unrusted tanks of the Astronomical Army, Mathieu was the first to charge towards the demon—
"Oh, oh! Look who's here."
Kugas remained completely unmoved.
His enormous, putrid mouth laughed merrily.
As the creator of the plague, he naturally understood the power of his creation—the one impersonating the emperor was already poisoned and unconscious, and as Nurgle Gardens expanded toward Pamenio, the mortals' futile attempts to stop it were undoubtedly laughable.
But Kugas doesn't mind playing along with them.
Even deep down, it felt a deep sympathy for these screaming creatures charging at it for the Corpse King in their mouths.
They were simply deceived and misled by the Corpse King on the Golden Throne, making them unable to understand the care and love from their loving father—but the patient Kugas believed he had the ability to persuade these lost children.
It loves friends who are willing to join the garden—where they can play happily forever, instead of being here for some vague promise of an afterlife.
“Little fellows of the Corpse God, listen up, there’s no need for us to continue being enemies.”
Raising the stirring stick in his hand, Kugas smoothed the rotten flesh on its body, trying to leave a slightly better impression.
"Rather than sacrificing your lives for that vague and insignificant afterlife—"
Boom!
Their response was to unleash even more bombs, and countless cursed soldiers charging at him.
“rua——”
Kugas responded by vomiting large amounts of mucus, maggots, bile, and partially digested bones.
The viscous liquid protects it while simultaneously hindering its progress.
"Alright, alright!"
Kugas said angrily, "Then let's solve this problem using physical methods."
(It sounds funny that a demon would say that, but it really did say it.)
As it spoke, it removed its hand from the cauldron of plague that it had been stirring, and raised a rotten, rusty greatsword beside it.
"Kill these lackeys of the Corpse King. Since they don't want to be part of the garden, then they'll become nutrients for the garden."
Just a few yards away, in front of the group in the crucible, lay their target, guarded by a powerful demon.
Meanwhile, at Kugas's call, plague carriers attacked them from every direction in the swamp.
In response to these unexpected adversaries, the Space Marines' protective perimeter began to shrink, and they quickly found themselves at a disadvantage under the onslaught of Nurgle demons coming from all directions.
"Good heavens, who's going to take this sword strike next?"
"I."
Kugas watched as a grandson of a cursed being emerged from the darkness, as arrogant as a Nurgle on a dung heap. He carried a shield bound with skeletons and a greatsword the size of the shield.
"Pah, you won't last long, kid."
......
"We must launch the attack, Colonel!"
As time went on, the Nurgle Cauldron remained intact under Kugas's protection, while the pressure from the Nurgle demons all around grew. As one side gained at the expense of the other, Mathieu's team suffered heavy losses.
But Mathieu is still waiting for an opportunity.
An opportunity to fulfill his mission.
"Now!"
As that damned demon felled the Primal Forged Warrior and boasted of its power and poison, the Lemanus (tank) under Mathieu's command broke through the demon-formed protective net and charged straight for the enemy's core—
Bang!
Kugas was thrown backward by the impact, and Lemanus pushed the demon off balance and backward, tearing off pieces of rotting flesh flying everywhere. It was pinned to the wall, its fat head shaking, its mouth agape.
"Ugh... a sneak attack. The pathetic offspring of the Corpse King are always so lacking in humor."
The black filth flowed towards Audramael's tank, which, under the influence of Kugas's blood, began to mutate and decompose.
The armor plates began to pulsate rhythmically as the plastic steel began to transform into flesh and blood.
A creaking opening appeared beneath the turret, releasing a foul stench and a groan. The power of the warp was on full display. A heavy bomb fell to the ground with a soft thud, softened, and began to crawl away. The engine emitted black smoke and then shut down.
Mathieu might have been able to save him—but he chose to head straight for the corrupting Nurgle Cauldron.
After all, his task was much more challenging.
Although he didn't understand why the Emperor would entrust this task to a priest, the dying Astragalus Commander Odramael chose to trust his judgment.
Disturbingly, strips of rust and flesh even grew onto the colonel's own body.
"Hiss... Ah!"
Audramael jerked his hand away, tearing the fusion of his flesh and metal apart. His skin was a waxy yellow, but he continued to crawl forward, leaving a trail of crimson blood behind him.
"Thank God, it's time to die."
His words lacked a subject; perhaps he was speaking to Kugas, or perhaps he was speaking to himself.
With his last ounce of strength, he plunged his power sword into Kugas's eye socket. The final burst of energy from the failing disintegration field generator exploded violently towards his brain.
Despite being just tanks and mortals, they are about to use their own power to banish a chief demon.
—What?
"Hahaha—of course, that's just a joke, kids."
Despite his head being completely blown off, in the colonel's dying, resentful eyes, the slime-covered Kugas stood up again and laughed heartily.
"You wouldn't believe it, this place has become a loving father's garden!"
"Haha, I'm sorry. My life is as vibrant as this garden."
In Nurgle Garden, the chief demon Kugas is indeed not a top-tier demon in terms of combat ability—his power mainly lies in the highly toxic potions he has developed.
But who can kill it in Nurgle Garden?
No!
"Little one?"
With a smile, Kugas gently lifted Mathieu, who was desperately resisting the erosion of the Plague Cauldron: "As a mortal, yet able to partially resist the plague of the Nurgle Cauldron, he is a good test subject for poison production."
"What else do you have to say? To your little fools who believe in you, and to the Corpse King you trusted your whole life but who couldn't save you?"
"demon!"
His skin began to fester under the influence of evil magic, but having dared to approach one of the plague god's most powerful artifacts, he had already accomplished everything he had—
Do not,
Not all.
"I, my Emperor, and everyone in this world will fight for ourselves—you cannot destroy our faith and will!"
"Damn it, I (swear)!"
Bear!
A flame, a golden-red flame, began to burn in Mathieu's heart.
"What kind of witchcraft is this? You... no! This isn't the power of the cursed!"
In pain, Kugas released his grip on the other person's hand—but in the next moment, he realized just how foolish that decision had been.
It was this subconscious letting go that caused Mathieu, whose body was already rotting away, to fall into the Nurgle's Plague Cauldron.
At that moment, the flames devoured everything.
......
At that moment, the flames devoured everything.
In Nurgle Gardens, a fireball blazing with incredible light is spreading wildly.
The last sap on his decaying flesh was burned away, revealing a network of capillaries that spread, bringing in fresh blood uncontaminated by the divine plague. The metal of the Armor of Destiny gleamed and began an incredible process of self-repair.
As the rust crumbled and fell away, the bright decorations were restored to their original state. Cables grew back and began to reconnect, just like skin growing back.
"Stop him! Casca, we were wrong! Stop your powers!!!"
"Do not."
“You, and your master, have stolen the imagery from this world.”
"They stole humanity's hope for rain, turning the prayer for rain into a complete demonic summoning ritual."
Humanity deserves a brighter future.
But they—they have turned this world into a vortex of suspicion and pain. They have stolen the driving force and opportunities for humanity to move forward, and used this to flaunt their so-called power!
And now, he's here to take back all of that!
Kasgar was recounting the sins of the other party, but the object of his recounting was not this demon who was about to be completely destroyed.
Rather, it was the owner of the black house on that low hill.
It can be seen from anywhere in Nurgle's Garden; that is Nurgle's own residence.
Rain Father Rotigus was still wailing, his rotting flesh disintegrating and shattering in the flames of Casca—he didn't understand why he was the one to suffer this misfortune, but at this moment he had no way to think about it anymore.
In the complete eruption of flames, from that moment on, the demon named Rain Father was no longer a part of this world.
"You are not a god, but a despicable thief, a coward!"
"Now, I've come to take all of this back from you!"
Rain, and the joy of enjoying it, returned to humankind at this moment.
"And you too!"
Like a sign from the King of Hell, Casca charged toward another great impure being.
The demons screamed and scattered in all directions. As the flames spread, those nameless creatures were instantly purified before they could even shout.
The implosion from Nurgle Gardens will be more terrifying than any destruction ever before.
Even all of this was caused by Casca alone.
Under the relentless outward-firing flames, the cracks all over his body had almost completely covered him—like a humanoid figure completely enveloped in golden-red light.
"Actually, I've been waiting for a moment. A moment that will allow me to explode, but without tearing open another eye of fear."
"And now... the time has come."
He could sense the pleas and fear of the owner of the dark house.
It turns out that even the gods of chaos can feel fear.
Excellent, let's make it even more terrifying.
This was exactly the result he had hoped for.
Prepare yourself for the wrath of me—not the Emperor, but the one I, Casgar Sherlock.
Bang.
An explosion comparable to the birth of a god resounded throughout Nurgle Garden.
At that moment, the flames devoured everything.
Chapter 263 As Always
Tick, tick.
"Why...why must we suffer such misfortune...why is this happening...?"
In the capital city of Pamenio, starving and emaciated refugees endured the musty smell of rain in makeshift shacks erected under the eaves of spire roofs.
Since the war began these days, some unheard-of, hideous and terrifying enemies, as ugly as demons, have appeared in this beautiful world of Otrama 500.
From then on, the city, which was once as beautiful as paradise in the human empire, became a breeding ground for plague and mosquitoes—and the continuous rain seemed to never stop.
The rulers have done their best to relocate non-military personnel from Pamenio, but very few civilians have actually been able to leave the battlefield; most of them are local nobles and powerful merchants.
After all, even if they were able to leave Pamenio, what world would be willing to accept them, willing to accept these potential virus carriers?