The Creators: From Night City

Page 515

Swarms of filthy flies and maggots as thick as an arm began to appear in every corner.

The pale clouds changed color, growing thicker and heavier. The canopy formed by fungi blocked out the sunlight, crawling all over the cracks and walls, growing fleshy limbs, dripping disgusting biological fluid.

The Ultramariner in charge of reconnaissance suddenly raised his arm and quickly made several tactical hand gestures.

The other two immediately lay down and hid, looking ahead from their cover.

A morbid and enormous 'flower' blooms deep within a twisted and decaying garden.

It has flamboyant, fungal-like tendrils, like huge, proud webbed feet, like veins constantly pulsating, contracting and exhaling thick mist.

But it wasn't the three Ultramarines' target; what lay beneath it was.

It was a huge, rough, coffin-shaped container made of rusted metal, rotting flesh and overgrown bone. Its surface was covered with pustules and oozing mucus. Its entire body was covered with runes filled with the power of filth, emitting a faint glow and pulsating with energy.

'Plague Coffin'

Strategic-level bioweapons and Chaos Ritual Relics deployed by the Death Guard Legion.

Each plague coffin is a "seed bank" and "petri dish," containing one or more specialized plague strains carefully cultivated by Nurgle wizards and nourished by warp energy, as well as the mediums used to spread the plague (such as corrupting gases, swarms of virus-carrying insects, etc.).

The coffin in front of us is a very special one among the countless 'plague coffins'. It is the 'grounding point' of the fungal forest in the Third War Zone.

Of course, the plague had already spread, and destroying this 'plague coffin' was no longer of any use.

The three Ultramarines' mission was not to destroy the coffin, but to obtain the original strain of the special plague bacteria stored inside and bring it back to the bio-sages of the Cult of Mechanics for deciphering.

The three Ultramarines quickly exchanged ideas via their internal communication channels and soon finalized their attack plan.

Before the operation, they conducted a final check on their respective data collectors and weapons. Once they confirmed that everything was in order, they quickly launched the raid.

As a core node of the Nurgle faction, the 'Plague Coffin' would naturally be surrounded by guards.

On the contrary, because of the presence of this coffin, the surrounding environment has long been transformed into a rudimentary version of the "Nurgle Plague Garden," an environment that is most likely to attract powerful Nurgle creatures to reside there.

The three Ultra Warriors, positioned in a triangular formation, crashed headlong into this twisted biological garden.

The first to be crushed were the large groups of active Nurgles.

Their bodies were mercilessly crushed into mincemeat by chainsaw swords, tactical daggers, and scepters.

However, by using their lives as a buffer, the real guards were able to react during the surprise attack.

More than a dozen plague hounds immediately dispersed and surrounded the three.

Of course, the most deadly threat is still the Nurgles that gather from all directions.

Under the command of a plague messenger, they swarmed in, attempting to overwhelm the enemy.

Chapter 1046 is getting exciting!

In such a situation, surrounded by enemies, most of the exquisite fighting skills become useless.

All the Ultra Warriors could do was keep firing, swinging their swords, and using their fists, feet, shoulders, and even their heads as weapons to unleash the Emperor's fury on their enemies.

So when they passed through the horde of Nurgle monsters, their bodies were already covered in green blood.

The think tank's scepter struck the head of the plague hound that pounced on it, and the disintegrating force field annihilated the entire head.

The biting cold wind surged forward with his punch, freezing a group of enemies.

The Ultramariner, clad in "Calamity" armor, shoved two Plague Hounds like an out-of-control dump truck, smashing them into a pile of minced meat under the weight of his heavy terracotta armor.

The plague messenger, which had been waiting in the wings, finally made its move, its writhing living weapon spraying deadly acid, but it was blocked by the shield erected by the think tank.

But the real killing blow is right above their heads.

With a piercing buzzing sound, a huge rotten fly carrying a rotten fly knight descended from the sky, heading straight for the think tank, which was unable to move due to maintaining its shield.

The rotting fly's head, with its spiral mouth fused with its long nose, opened to its maximum, revealing countless outward-facing triangular fangs, while the knight on its back raised its sword, covered in putrid microorganisms, and thrust it down fiercely.

In the face of life and death, the comrades-in-arms did not hesitate at all.

The Ultramariner, clad in Gladiator armor, flew like a cannonball and pounced directly into the rapidly swooping rotfly's arms.

The sheer size of the object, combined with the momentum of the Ultramarathon's all-out sprint, undoubtedly sent the opponent flying, defusing the deadly situation.

But such a reckless attack method certainly comes at a price.

Before it could even get up, the fly's eight sharp legs suddenly contracted, pulling the Ultra Warrior into its embrace, and it tilted its head back to bite.

The bomb fired by another Ultramariner did not interrupt the attack, so the bound Ultramariner could only raise his left arm, sacrificing an arm in exchange for the possibility of mutual destruction.

Yes, only possibly.

The roaring chainsaw sword pierced deep into the neck of the enormous rotting fly, and with the wielder's force, severed most of the thick neck.

However, such an attack would not be fatal to Nurgle's creations.

But this was the warrior's final attack, after all, besides the rotten flies, it also had a rotten firefly knight on its back.

The deformed blade pierced through the Gladiator's thick breastplate without any resistance, and the deadly plague and malevolent magic attached to the weapon began to take effect rapidly, quickly destroying the Ultramariner's life force.

He was doomed to die.

This is a fact that all three Ultra Warriors are aware of.

So, without any hesitation, the Ultramariner released the chainsaw sword from his hand, turned around and gripped the Fly Knight's sword arm tightly. The power armor emitted its final hum, and the servo motors and joints locked up amidst the violent noise.

[Fire at me! Full power!]

He let out a final roar in the squad communications.

A surge of psionic lightning erupted from the furious scepter of the think tank, blasting the bound flies, the knight, and the Ultramariner into pieces.

The battle had spiraled out of control by this point.

As the price for launching this attack, the think tank member took a solid hit of corrosive acid with his thick shoulder armor. The tough terracotta immediately began to crumble, and the airtightness of the entire suit of armor was compromised.

In just a moment, the think tank member realized that he, too, was trapped in this 'twisted garden'.

Therefore, his offensive became instantly aggressive.

He dodged the second wave of corrosive acid by sidestepping, and an invisible shockwave burst outwards with his clenched fist, shaking off all the enemies who wanted to surround him.

He began to charge forward, sacrificing his soul to maintain his shield as he charged directly at the plague messenger, intending to smash the man's head open with his scepter.

With a deft parry, the thick scepter deflected the thrust of the opponent's deformed staff. Facing the enemy's follow-up staff strike, the think tank directly headbutted the opponent's deformed face, at the cost of severely cracking his eyepiece, successfully regaining the initiative.

The heavy scepter caught the opponent's scepter as it spun around, and the think tank skillfully executed a standard Kalidat close-quarters tripping tactic, knocking the opponent to the ground.

In this situation, losing your balance is equivalent to losing your life.

Before the enemy could even get up, the heavy magnetic boots crushed his upper body.

With the target right in front of him, the think tank member did not hesitate at all. He rushed to the 'Plague Coffin' and used the collector in his hand like the most vicious skin scraper to cut a layer off the twisted flesh inside the coffin.

The plague flower, resembling webbed feet, looks like a plant but exhibits animal-like reactions.

Its body trembled violently, emitting a high-decibel wail.

The filthy creatures within the area covered by the sound instantly erupted into a frenzy, swarming towards the location.

The automatically packaged collector was handed over by the think tank to another extreme warrior.

Facing the enemy, he directly tore off his already damaged helmet, revealing two service studs, one gold and one silver, on his forehead.

The deadly plague had already invaded his body through the previous wound, and the broken goggles had also affected his vision, so the helmet was no longer necessary.

The scepter was raised high, and a surge of psionic energy erupted from the think tank's body.

He completely released the constraints on his soul and began to demand unlimited resources from the subspace.

Faced with an endless stream of Nurgle demons, he needs the power to send his fellow warriors out.

Therefore, even if his soul is captured by a warp entity, he will still absorb psionic energy without restraint.

The explosive lightning enveloped him, making him invincible like a god descending to earth when facing his enemies.

When the scepter is struck, it often unleashes a burst of tiny lightning bolts that scatter and indiscriminately kill the enemy.

"Your Majesty, at this final moment, I offer you my last breath, my boiling blood, my burning soul." The think tank covered another Ultra Warrior as they fought their way out, all the while praying loudly to strengthen their resolve.

Psychic energy is entirely a form of idealistic energy, and the strength of a psychic's will can naturally affect their psychic energy level.

Let my death be like a spear, piercing the alien's throat; let my destruction be like thunder, shaking the heart of the heretic; let my end be like a brand, searing the shadow of chaos.

The prayers grew louder, and the think tank's fighting style became increasingly unrestrained.

His injuries naturally multiplied, and his soul became increasingly overwhelmed.

This cold world remains so cruel. Despite his best efforts, he is still only a Zeta-level psionicist. Even though he desperately seeks power from the endless warp, the power he gains still has an upper limit.

More carrion flies are arriving from afar, and more Nurgles, Plague Beasts, and even giant Plague Crawlers are converging on this area.

The agonizing screams of that plague flower undoubtedly carried a certain 'informational' quality, attracting a large number of demons to its aid in a short period of time.

The monsters were so numerous that they completely surrounded the two Ultra Warriors.

They are most likely unable to escape.

The other Ultra Warrior remained silent, calmly activating the microwave beacon function of the data collector, encapsulating it in a special container, and preparing to launch Plan C.

They no longer hoped to bring the collector back, but instead prepared to take it away from this dangerous area as much as possible, so that the next wave of Astartes could take it away from them.

Even from their corpses.

So the two began a new round of fighting. This time, the Ultra Warrior no longer tried to protect himself, and his fighting style became equally aggressive and wild.

Their only goal was to get themselves as close to safety as possible in death.

However, the high-intensity use of psionic energy has pushed the think tank's mind and body to their limits.

His breakdown was imminent.

Blood gushing from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears turned the think tank member's face crimson. Exhaustion and pain bound him tightly like an invisible net, causing him unbearable suffering and inevitably causing his will to waver.

"I have fulfilled my oath. I have not failed my brothers. I have made the enemy pay the price."

New enemies are surging forward like a tide.

All the think tank can do now is pray, thereby squeezing its own will to extract more psionic energy from the warp.

He knew that the final moment had arrived.

His faith and will burned fiercely in the Warp, and his prayers pierced through the veil, echoing layer upon layer within the Warp.

"I am the blade of your will; though shattered, my edge remains."

Death is the only end of one's duty.

"Emperor, Lord of mankind, witness to me."

Devout believers and desperate people habitually appeal to their gods and their rulers for help, and as always, they do not expect any response.

But the young psionicist never expected this.

Times have changed!

Within the vast ocean, the 'subspace sun' residing within the blazing torches rises from the midst of relentless bombardment.

He heard the familiar prayer and sensed a vessel far away that could contain his power, while the fate of his target also exceeded the threshold he had set for the human empire.

Thus, this 'artificial intelligence' swiftly completed the qualification approval process, skillfully channeling its power to separate a beam of light from the raging pillar of fire, illuminating the place of prayer just like the thousands of other beams of light shining into the dark forest.

Immediately afterwards, the think tank, which had been praying devoutly, suddenly shuddered violently under the stunned gaze of its combat brothers.

Endless golden flames surged from his seven orifices, filling his limbs and bones, overflowing wildly. The immense spiritual energy almost instantly transformed him into a dazzling humanoid form forged from golden flames.

he.

In both physical and psionic senses.

It's burning up!

Chapter 1047 Death is worse than life, life is worse than death

The Emperor is a wicked and shameless old man. The reason he has managed to survive until today without being beaten to death by his creditors, only having his leg crippled, is not because he is thick-skinned, but because he is really good at fighting.

Extremely skilled in combat!

When the psionic energy, which the Chaos Demons called the 'Cursed Ones,' erupted from the think tank, the surrounding 'Poop Demons' immediately scattered in a chaotic mess, like gutter rats seeing sunlight.

Without even a real fight, the moment they were struck by this pale psionic light (from the demon's perspective), large numbers of plague undead and Nurgles began to emit plumes of smoke, howling, writhing in agony, their bodies twisting miserably before finally dying completely.