40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 729 21. Catching the Eagle (Seven, One Against Two)

Fulgrim walked into the darkness alone.

From his point of view, this cave could not have been formed naturally. Every city in Chemos had undergone detailed investigation and planning at the beginning of its establishment. How could such a huge underground cave be missed?

He thought calmly, the giant sword still hanging low on the ground, its own weight and sharpness destroyed everything on the ground along the way. Fungal blankets, mosses or vines, all were treated equally, and they would make extremely slight crunching sounds when they were crushed.

The rich juice splashed everywhere and was soon absorbed by the surrounding plants. Their leaves also swayed gently, as if to thank Fulgrim for what he had done.

He stopped and stared at these bizarre creations in silence. Time passed, and he seemed to really feel their thoughts - thank you, the leaves swayed, the fungal blanket shook slightly, they whispered like this.

Thank me?
Phoenix could barely hold back his smile, but that was exactly what they thought.

In the wind of corruption, they sincerely thanked: Grandfather does not allow us to do this, He loves us all and hopes that we can be harmonious and friendly like brothers and sisters, but we want more grace, so thank you for your help.
Phoenix finally laughed out loud.

Let's not talk about how he felt about these absurd words, but harmony and friendship? This is simply a big joke. How can a real family have the intention to kill each other?
With a sneer, he continued to move forward, but did not raise the sword, and even exerted a little strength on the sword - let these things continue to devour the blood of their brothers and sisters, as for the so-called grandfather, does he want a harmonious family?

dream.

Fulgrim didn't mind releasing some of his malice in such a small place. He knew that thing could see what he did, but so what? This was just the beginning.

He walked deeper into the cave. There were no longer large areas of glowing moss like the outer areas, but it was not completely dark either. The hazy light maintained a balance just right, but it also made Fulgrim feel more disgusted.

He continued forward, but the deeper he went, the thicker the fungal carpet under his feet became. The power armor provided by Belisarius Cawl was still conscientiously performing the work of air purification, but it was no longer fully competent for this task. Phoenix finally smelled a slight stench.
The deeper he went, the stronger the smell of breaking through the protective boundary of the breathing grid became, which made his intuition shake like a needle stuck in his brain, bringing indescribable pain - but pain is actually a good thing, pain is one of the precious gifts humans have received in the process of evolution.

Normally, its appearance can be seen as a warning.

Fulgrim followed the warning and looked down, and saw a fat and short demon sticking half of its head out of the fungal blanket in front of him, quietly observing him.

As he looked at it, the thing let out a shrill cry, then immediately burrowed back into the fungus blanket and disappeared. Phoenix strode over, raised the giant sword, thrust it in, then twisted his wrist and moved his shoulders.
He used the purest violence to destroy the thick fungal carpet like a city wall in a few seconds. The little demon screamed, jumped out of the wriggling debris, turned around and tried to escape.

A steel boot crushed it cruelly to death.

Phoenix's voice began to echo in the surrounding darkness.

"Come out," he said, his tone as authoritative as an order.

A dissatisfied cough was heard from deep within the cave, and then the fungal blanket began to fluctuate, throbbing like a surging ocean. The rock walls also trembled at the same time, as if a Titan was walking out from the depths.

The coughing sound was getting closer and closer. Phoenix raised his sword and waited calmly. Soon he saw the true appearance of the thing that caused this abnormality from a distance of ten meters. Like all the Great Unclean Ones belonging to Nurgle, it was fat and rotten, with almost broken antlers on its head.

However, unlike its peers, this creature was much larger and fatter. The gaping hole in its abdomen was not a giant mouth full of fangs, but a simple horrifying wound, with rotten and huge intestines coiled around the wound, threatening to fall out.

Countless black flies flew out from it, entwined around it, and played happily with the group of little demons called Nurglings that covered its body.
"You shouldn't have killed that poor little thing." The creature spoke with a complaining tone, the voice was not loud and hoarse, but soft like the slight sound of a flower stretching. "It didn't do anything wrong, it was just curious about you."

Fulgrim frowned silently as he observed the appearance of this blasphemous evil creature - he could not completely ignore the disgust or disgust he felt, but at this moment, the desire to kill in his heart was even greater.

The thing seemed to have sensed his thoughts, but strangely, it did not laugh in anger, but revealed a terrifying smile of joy: "Ah, you are a direct person, I like this kind of personality."

After saying that, it whistled happily, and then immediately rushed towards the Phoenix. At the same time, a harsh cold light appeared from behind it - it was a huge and rusty sword, which was covered with Nurgle's mark.

In the shaking like an earthquake, Fulgrim raised his sword with one hand. Instead of activating the magnetic lock to stabilize his body, he swayed along with the rhythm of the thing's charge.

No matter how terrifying the combined power of the Phoenix and its own weight was, there was no sign of the Phoenix losing its balance.
Four seconds later, the broadsword and the giant sword collided with each other, and the decomposition field jumped so fast that it even briefly formed a blue glow.

The Great Unclean One whistled, with joy, and drew back his sword with unimaginable speed and slashed hard - once, twice, three times, but Phoenix still stood there, refusing to retreat, not even holding the sword with both hands. He just stood there calmly, swinging the sword with one hand, taking every powerful blow of the demon.
It was not until the sixth second of the battle that he launched a real counterattack.

He stepped back with his left foot and put his left hand on the hilt of the sword. With just two small movements, the whistle of the Great Unclean One stopped abruptly. In an instant, the cold blue light actually illuminated the depths of the cave.

The Nurglings clenched their fists in fear, flies buzzed, and the demon's skin was torn apart.
The knife and the sword collided again, and the Great Unclean One stumbled back a few steps until he hit the rock wall, causing the moss to wail, and then he groaned and steady himself.

"Ouch..." It sighed, and the maggots fell out of its mouth. "You were too harsh."

Not wanting to pay attention to the stupid words, Phoenix swung his sword and chopped off the fungus blanket in front of him. As the sword danced, he actually created a path leading to the Great Unclean One.
Yes, he was so cautious. The arrogance and recklessness he had shown when he went deep into the enemy's nest alone seemed to be just an appearance. At this moment, he could even consider this detail that should not have attracted his attention in the fierce battle.

And that thing appreciated that very much.

"Very good, very good." It praised sincerely. "As expected of Fulgrim, the Phoenix of Chemos. I don't think I have introduced myself to you yet. My name is Scarbelathax, and my little Nurglings call me Daddy Gabe."

It snorted, as if this incident touched its weird sense of humor.

The rotten long tongue slipped out of its mouth, and the maggots squirmed in the holes all over the tongue, and from time to time one of them exploded, and a wet, slimy fly flew out and joined the dark swarm hovering around it. The Nurglings drilled into its newly born wounds, using their own hands to help the flesh quickly rot and breed more eggs.
Behind his helmet, Phoenix frowned - but he was not frowning because of this. These blasphemous scenes could no longer shake his will.

"Ok?"

The demon who called himself Scarbelathax suddenly burst out a question from his throat. It turned around awkwardly and questioned a dark shadow coming from behind.

"What are you doing here? The cauldron still needs you to stir it, Typhons."

Fulgrim's pupils shrank suddenly.

The black shadow whose name was called walked towards him little by little at a pace so slow that it was almost staggering. His figure looked huge and bloated in the dim light.

The Death Guard's former Terminator Armor was preserved in another form - the once glorious metal had long been stained by stinking blood, rotten flesh and feces, becoming pitted and tattered, hanging on his body like flesh and blood in another sense, with a single horn protruding from the dead helmet, emitting bursts of green mist.

"I beg your pardon." The creature said in a hoarse voice. "But the honor of stirring the cauldron is no longer mine. The respected Great Cultivator has taken on this responsibility himself."

"What?" The Great Unclean One shouted in surprise and a little anger. "That annoying dry ghost is here too?! Why didn't you tell me earlier that he was coming, Typhons? I don't want to work with that stinky gardener with no sense of humor!"

"I didn't know about this beforehand." Typhons continued. "But, Grandfather obviously values ​​one of our future companions very much. He is so kind that he not only sent the gardener, but also the clerk and the Rainfather are waiting in line."

The Great Unclean One's surprise turned into shock, and the Nurglings in its wounds looked at each other, raised their hands and shouted, the scene was like a ridiculous drama. The only human audience here was completely indifferent, just swung the sword to cut off another fungal blanket, picked it up, and slapped it horizontally, making it fly towards Typhon like an irregularly shaped cannonball.

The air - no, the miasma was torn apart, and the only surviving traitor of the Death Guard had no reaction to this terrible attack. He stood there and ate it raw with his rotten armor.
Literally eat it.

The dark green scales greedily absorbed the fungus, not even a drop of the splattered juice was wasted. Typhon sighed, stretched his body, and waved his right hand, driving the wide sickle and turning it into a fulcrum.

He leaned on it to stand up straight, and then used his free left hand to perform a brief and powerful warrior salute to the Phoenix, full of respect.

"It has been a long time since we last met, Lord Fulgrim."

"Traitor." Phoenix finally uttered a word, full of disgust.

Typhon shook his head and firmly denied it.

"I have always belonged to my grandfather, so how can I say I betrayed him? At most, I took advantage of Mortarion's stupidity. He was too naive and too simple to see things that he should have noticed. I am not a traitor, my lord. I just happened to stand on the opposite side of the Empire."

"No more words will do." Phoenix raised his sword and pointed it at him from a distance. "Come on, it's nothing more than a fight."

Typhons nodded in surprise, and a hoarse sound came out of his throat: "I respect your bravery and nobleness. But, unfortunately, I'm afraid this battle will -"

"——Let's go together." Phoenix interrupted him with a sneer. "I know your tricks and style."

“What a crisp and confident soul!”

The Great Unclean One praised loudly, and then immediately rushed towards him.

This time, its charge was still powerful and heavy, but more than twice as fast as the previous one. The fungal blanket no longer sank and shook, but shattered directly under its feet. The rusty and terrifying weapon in its hand showed a rare martial art that did not match the nature of its existence.
Phoenix coldly observed its charge route and dodged sideways, but the target he dodged was not the demon, but the black bullets fired from the blasphemous firearm in Typhons's hand. He dodged all sixteen bullets by a hair's breadth.

But this also meant that the charge of the Great Unclean One became a problem he had to deal with head-on - just imagine, a thing about seven meters tall and most likely seven meters wide is rushing towards you with earth-shaking force, and you can't dodge, how do you deal with it?
Phoenix's answer is simple: just cut it open.

"laugh--"

Accompanied by a soft and extremely sharp sound, the decomposition field of the Eternal Disaster once again shone with light, but this time, it was like a boiling lake.
After just one encounter, dozens of deep scars visible to the bone appeared on Scarabelasax's body again. The Nurglings screamed anxiously and uneasily, as if they realized something.

But the Great Unclean One no longer needed their reminders. It let out a loud cry and staggered back from Fulgrim's meat-grinder-like sword dance. Maggots fell all over the sky, all from a very dangerous and terrible sword scar that spread from its left shoulder to its waist and abdomen.

Fulgrim succeeded in his attack, but did not pursue, instead he drew his sword back and thrust it straight, instantly knocking the scythe in Typhons' hand away. The traitor groaned, unable to resist the huge force, and retreated even further than Scarabellasax.

"Come on." Phoenix grinned from behind his helmet. "Let's continue."

The Great Unclean One patted himself in confusion, picked up his torn fat as if nothing had happened, stuffed the corruption and maggots inside back, and then actually asked a sincere question.

"How come you are not affected?" it asked in great confusion. "My plague has already been spread."

Fulgrim threw a mocking sound at it, then rushed forward with the sword in one hand. The clear lake light surged again, and Scarbelathax had no time to avoid it, so he had to fight hastily.

It possessed agility beyond its size and immense strength, yet it could only manage a draw with Fulgrim - it was fast, sure, but the Phoenix's sword must have been faster. Its strength was great, but useless, for it could not hit the Phoenix at all. The sword's slashes and blows were either deflected or dodged.

After several rounds of fighting, it was forced back several steps again, and a dangerous deep sword mark appeared on its right rib, as if Fulgrim was just one step away from cutting it in half.

Of course, for the Great Unclean One, just one step makes a world of difference. It patted its body, and the Nurglings closed the two pieces of rotten meat that were split, steaming, and overflowing with juice, and the wound shrank to just a squeeze wrinkle born of fat in an instant.

Phoenix calmly put away his sword and stepped back, returning to the center of the open space he had created. He stood firmly and upright on the rock that truly belonged to Chemos, and began to taunt.

"Your plague is as ridiculous as your useless master, you stupid waste - no, I shouldn't call you waste, the traitor behind you is the real waste. I just knocked his weapon off his body, and he didn't even dare to take another step forward to attack me."

Amidst the laughter, Phoenix slowly raised his sword.

"There seem to be three more so-called people like you who have been blessed by God? The gardener, the clerk, and the Rain Father? Very well, I will kill you first, and then kill them."

Typhons held onto his twisted sickle and shook his head again. Unlike Scarabellasax, who was already really angry, he remained calm, completely different from the anxious traitor ten thousand years ago.

This calmness may have come from his constant battles with the Death Guard, or it may be because he has truly faced himself and therefore appears detached, but Fulgrim believes that this is not the case.

During the ten thousand years he was stationed on Chemos, he had dealt with the Death Guard and their successors. In the past ten thousand years, the power of Nurgle had been very active, and this was all thanks to the body of the Primarch he had obtained.

For this reason, Mortarion's descendants had to travel all over the galaxy, and wherever there was plague, they would be there.

Put it this way, it seems sad and lamentable - the father and son meet again on the battlefield, but they draw their swords against each other, carrying unparalleled hatred and sadness.

And Typhons was present every time.

Every time Mortarion's stolen body appeared on a world, he was there.
So what about this time?

With a cautiousness clouded by sarcasm, Fulgrim carefully sensed the darkness around him. He did not believe that his brother's body was not there, but this time, he was wrong.

There was something in the darkness, but it was not Mortarion.

"Father."

Something cried out in unison, then screamed in pain, emerging from the deepest darkness under the guidance of Typhon's scythe.

"I'm afraid you need to kill them first." said Typhons.

The Phoenix finally roared.

(End of this chapter)