Chapter 19
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"Let's get started, bestowing the blessings of our kind father upon these ordinary folks duped by the Corpse Emperor," commanded Gulro, striding forward as the other Plague Marines parted to allow their lord passage.
The Plague Marines' armor was oozing with a foul-smelling liquid, stretched out by their bloated bodies, and coated in a green sheen of flies. The nauseating stench and a ghastly green mist radiated from within them.
"Let's bestow our kind father's gifts upon these fools," added Gulro's second-in-command. His voice carried a sense of decaying flesh that was nonetheless capable of speech.
He followed closely behind Gulro, brandishing a power hammer covered in flesh towards the battlefield. The distillation equipment and experimental plague grenades on his person jingled with his movement.
It's worth noting that Gulro's second-in-command was a Plague Alchemist, who through his crafting of various bacteria and viruses, could create terrifying plagues. These could easily poison entire Imperial worlds and even spread to others, causing countless suffering and death.
The threat brought about by Plague Alchemists far exceeded that of other Plague Marines. They would poison the worlds they touched with their imperial taint and even meddle in sacrificial rituals, offering Imperial worlds as gardens to Nurgle.
"Praise to our kind father."
"Bless them, bless them with gifts."
"The love of our kind father."
"Down with the Corpse Emperor."
The rest of the Plague Marines, brandishing their rusted bolt guns, blades, war hammers, and plague spewers covered in rot, cheered and followed closely behind Gulro, readying for the final assault.
Leading the charge, Gulro raised his massive plague axe and let out a hoarse, terrifying battle cry, "We are the children of Mortarion, we are the embodiment of plague and death."
The other Plague Marines echoed his battle cry as the thundering sound of artillery fire roared. Daemon engines and traitor-controlled cannons once again bombarded the fortress.
Plague-infused shells soared towards the flickering fortress shields, blossoming into malicious petals of fire upon impact. An abundance of plague mist scattered with each explosion, yet was kept at bay by the shield.
The fortress shield flickered inconsistently, evidently reaching its limit.
With continuous bombardment, the shield generators were on the verge of overloading. A few more rounds of artillery fire and the fortress would lose its protective shield.
Without the shield, the fortress would be left defenseless, ready for the slaughter.
"Unleash our kind father's gifts," Gulro ordered.
Before long, a large horde of Plague Zombies was driven forward from afar.
They had all once been living beings — inhabitants of the planet, defenders of the world, but were now reduced to mere puppets and playthings of Nurgle.
Many of the zombies still wore the uniforms of the planet's defenders, their weapons hanging loosely from their bodies.
"They have only simple instincts left and cannot wield weapons," Guilliman noted. He didn't need them to. The Plague Zombies' primary role was to inflict damage on enemies by the contagions they carried.
These creatures moved aimlessly forward, their vacant eyes focused on the horizon. Greenish fluid dripped from their snarling, grinning faces. The stench of their rotting flesh and squirming tendrils was unbearable, and the moans of lost souls echoed in the air.
Under the Plague Marines' direction, the Plague Zombies marched mindlessly towards the fortress, serving as expendable cannon fodder.
Countless undead swarmed across the rubble and stumbled towards the Imperial fortress's defensive line. The Plague Marines followed closely, herding the zombies like shepherds.
Behind them, the Plagueburst Crawlers and other demonic engines maintained a relentless bombardment, causing the fortress's void shield to flicker more and more uncertainly.
As the enemy moved within optimal attack range, the fortress's defenders sprung to action. Heavy lasers and cannons roared, harvesting row after row of the plague-ridden mutants.
The cannon fire echoed, sending countless zombies flying, exploding them into piles of rotting flesh scattered across the field. Huge flamers unleashed dragons of fire, reducing the approaching Plague Flies to charcoal.
Lasers shot out from the bunker, hitting the Plague Zombies and causing them to sizzle, turning them into fallen charred corpses. The defenders, shouting in the Emperor's name, tried to conserve ammunition while inflicting as much damage as possible, hoping to repel the enemy once again.
The Plague Marines retaliated with equal force. Their blight launchers accurately targeted the heavy units and primary firepower of the Imperial defenders, continuously pulling the trigger. The projectiles effortlessly shattered the bodies of ordinary soldiers, destroyed heavy units, and removed vital defensive points, allowing them to continue driving the Plague Zombies forward.
Demonic engines such as the Plagueburst Crawlers advanced, unleashing terrifying plague shells and toxins that corroded the human defenders, suppressing their firepower.
The Imperial defenders, pushing themselves to their limits, even used bodies tied with melt bombs in an attempt to stop the enemy advance. But no matter how hard they tried, they could not hold back the ferocious assault of the Plague Marines, and were forced to continuously cede ground as their defensive lines shrank.
The Plague Marines employed their Dreadnoughts and demonic engines, whose terrifying firepower caused even more suffering for the outgunned defenders.
During several defenses, they lost a significant amount of artillery and tanks. Those confined to the fortress barely had any heavy firepower left.
"Merciful Emperor, we're truly done for this time," Jean said, holding his binoculars, watching the terrifying Dreadnoughts covered in flesh emerging from the sickly green fog behind the Plague Zombies. He knew without a miracle, the fall of the fortress was inevitable.
The Plague Marines also had Dreadnoughts, models from ten thousand years ago, with superior performance, and they were further enhanced by the blessings of the Chaos Gods. Their battle power was even more terrifying than the Dreadnoughts of the Imperium.
Several Dreadnoughts passed a burning Chimera transport vehicle. Their colossal size made the Chimera look somewhat insignificant in comparison.
In one hand, the Dreadnought held a massive cannon, blasting out power crazily, while the other hand was a claw full of barbs. Its chest, filled with the corpses of Plague Marines, bore a large mouth surrounded by a cluster of blinking eyes. It was utterly disturbing.
Jean had seen these Dreadnoughts in action a few times. When facing the Imperium's forces, their destruction was utterly overwhelming. The defenders stood no chance.
He'd witnessed those Dreadnoughts easily destroy a super-heavy tank, the Baneblade. The power of their artillery was truly terrifying.
"We don't even have a Knight. Damn it, find a squad and make them a suicide team, see if they can get close enough to detonate a melt bomb," Jean tried to struggle, attempting to sacrifice lives to destroy that Dreadnought.
Soon, a squad rushed out, other units paving the way with gunfire. They charged forward, melt bombs strapped to them.
The tactic was simple: get close enough to detonate the melt bomb. Even in death, the other team members could trigger the bomb remotely. As long as it was delivered, that was enough.
Unfortunately, bravery, while a valuable and rare commodity, couldn't change the fact, especially on a battlefield. It was unlikely to turn the tide of the battle.
"What a shame, they failed." Watching the last soldier of the suicide squad shouting the Emperor's motto being shattered by the Dreadnought's distant firepower, Jean smiled. He had lived over thirty years, and today, he would answer the Emperor's call.
"The civilians..." Jean turned his gaze towards the depths of the fortress, his eyes filled with despair. He knew all too well the consequences of losing the final line of defense.
Chaos never shows mercy.
Jean looked up. The shield flickered, looking as if it would shatter at any moment. Through it, his augmetic eye could see the greyish plague fog that had already covered the entire sky. The planet had fallen, their struggle had become useless.
They had done their best, but the outcome was predetermined.
Facing an unbeatable enemy, they had no chance of victory. All they could do in the end was to rush to their deaths, shouting the Emperor's motto.
Suppressing his despair, Jean drew his command knife and laser pistol, turned on the army communicator, "It has been an honor to fight alongside you all. Comrades, may we all be with the Emperor, may our souls be accepted by Him. The glory of mankind shall endure forever, the light of the Emperor shall shine for all eternity. We shall fight until the very last moment, never will Chaos subdue us."
As Jean's words fell, the overburdened shield flickered several times before completely disappearing.
Plague bombs fell onto the fortress, causing explosions and a cloud of pestilence. Screams and cries echoed from within the fortress.
The voices of the civilians resonated with despair throughout the entire stronghold.
Everyone knew their end had come.
Plague zombies and plague warriors breached the defensive line of the guards, initiating a savage massacre on the last stand, with the defenders trying to maintain their last line and humanity's final dignity through brutal hand-to-hand combat.