Travel to Warhammer 40K with Grey Wind

I should have thought of it earlier. Nurgle pollution is not just pollution, it also stinks.

Chapter 28 Source of pollution

Russell took off his mask and used psychic flames to burn the vomit on his face. He pinched his nose and looked around in the stench.

This fortress is the largest building on the Battle Moon, but the word "fortress" actually describes its defensive level. The overall shape of this large building is actually a spire towering into the clouds.

The arsenal for assembling ancient giants and iron giants, the shipyard for building interstellar ships, and any other orc war facilities are all centered on this tower and radiate in all directions.

However, only by entering the interior can one truly understand that this towering tower is only covered with a thin layer of iron sheet on the surface. There is no metal component at all inside the building. It is filled with twisted and weird purple-red flesh and blood. The whole thing is like a huge tumor covered with iron sheet.

Russell pinched his nose and took a closer look. He could vaguely see blood vessels in the slightly trembling wall. The floor under his feet was slippery and soft, as if he was stepping on the belly of a greasy fat man.

He walked along the stinking flesh and blood corridor, and saw no living creatures except the fortress itself. Only in some hidden corners could he occasionally see structures similar to tree roots sticking out from the cracks in the wall.

The ethereal spiritual energy flickered slightly in his eyes, and the scene in front of Russell changed rapidly.

Crossing the waves of the Warp, he saw that a fierce battle had taken place here before his arrival.

These strange root-like creatures were actually large, strong, fully-armed green-skinned orcs. The Space Marine commandos who broke into the fortress paid a heavy price after a fierce exchange of fire before they were all wiped out and went deeper into the corridor.

The orc corpses that were blown to pieces by the grenade launchers underwent some unexpected changes after the Astartes left - their flesh and blood quickly rotted, and thick roots emerged from the corpses, wriggling into various dark crevices like earthworms, taking root in the filthy flesh and blood inside the fortress, and never moved again.

Russell squatted in the corner and picked up a slimy root nodule with the Huntress's Blade. Faintly, it seemed that the thing was gradually growing into a human face, and its little appearance was really friendly.

"It's contaminated like this, I don't know if it can still be used." Russell shook his head and sighed, shook off the mucus on the blade, and continued walking forward.

He did not encounter any danger along the way. The structure of the fortress was intricate, like the vascular network in the human body. The orcs who stayed behind were either assimilated by the fortress, or the few remaining troops were mostly killed by Astartes.

The reason why Russell never saw any traces of fighting was that every time the commandos finished a battle, the Sister of Silence in the team would leave with the team. Without the influence of the Untouchables, the Flesh and Blood Tunnel would immediately return to the control of Chaos.

Whether it was the orc corpses that were blown into pieces, the chain swords that were broken in the fierce battle, the shells thrown out by large-caliber firearms, or even the corpses of Space Marines wearing ceramsite steel armor, they were quickly integrated into this living fortress and turned into wriggling flesh and blood.

As Russell's footsteps continued to go deeper underground, the influence of the surrounding subspace became more and more serious.

Grey Wind once wondered why the Battle Moon had not provided any firepower support for the space naval battle in orbit since it appeared above the Second Moon, and had become a completely motionless decoration; why the Orcs, who had the advantage in strength, were still being chased by the Imperial fleet; and why the escort fleets following this celestial-class arsenal were so scarce.

Russell can now answer these questions.

It's simple - this battle moon is rotten to the core. Only the industrial areas on the surface of the planet still retain the ability to fight. Its interior has been completely distorted into a stinking and dirty cesspool.

Russell wanted to chat with Grey Wind about this topic, but at this depth, the interference of the subspace was so severe that his conventional means of communication were useless. It was extremely boring to not be able to find anyone to communicate with in such an environment.

Closing his eyes and feeling the evil energy of the Warp surging deep underground, Russell could feel that the foul-smelling pus from Nurgle and the orcs' force field were in subtle and fierce confrontation every moment.

It is precisely because of the existence of the force field that the power of Nurgle can never truly descend, and such a place polluted by Chaos is not crawling with cute little things like Nurglings.

At the same time, they resisted the pollution of the warp and the pursuit of the Imperial Fleet. It's a miracle that they can hold on until now... They are greenskins. If any other Imperial world suffered such pollution, they would have gone to the underworld with their families. For a moment, Russell actually began to feel pity for the orcs and felt that it was not easy for them.

But no matter how compassionate we are, things that need to be recycled still need to be recycled, because the bugs are coming soon.

Russell burned the mask in his hand into ashes, and instead a layer of hazy psychic mist covered his face.

After re-camouflaging himself, Russell quickened his pace following the commandos' lead and headed for the deepest part of the fortress.

Under the fortress, countless flesh and blood corridors are intricately interwoven into a blood vessel-like network, the scale of which far exceeds the size of the building itself, making people feel as if they are walking in a dream.

The deeper you go, the weaker the existence of the real universe becomes, with less and less steel and more and more biological tissue.

Thick tree roots and blood vessels, rotten pustules and mucus appeared more and more frequently on the surrounding walls. From time to time, a few sticky, snot-like things would run out, foreshadowing the imminent arrival of the father's love.

And at the end of this vascular network, in the deepest part of the fortress, on the floor flowing with turbid thick soup, there is a throne of flesh and blood covered with tumors and pustules.

This throne belonging to the orcs was originally made of steel, but now it is covered with all kinds of strange-shaped teeth and lymphatic tissues. The thick tree roots hold the entire throne tightly like a palm, and also hold the big green guy sitting on it.

Dull whispers echoed around the throne, like a kind father tirelessly expressing his clumsy love to his children, and the strong orcs wrapped in corrupt flesh and tree roots responded with angry grinding of teeth and low roars.

On this evil torture device that no longer belongs to the real universe, its will is always maintained.

This is a long tug-of-war, but the end is in sight, and it will be a victory for the loving father.

But suddenly——

The rumbling chainsaw sword split the muscle fibers wrapped around the wall. A burly warrior in black armor, holding a sword in one hand and a gun in the other, stepped on the blood and pus on the ground and broke into this blasphemous land filled with chaotic energy.

More than half of the fighting brothers who traveled with them had been killed on the way here, but faced with the twisted and strange evil scene before them, they showed no fear at all.

The Astartes Brothers and the only remaining Sister of Silence followed the Chapter Master's steps closely. The Librarian in the team opened the "Word of the Emperor" in his hand and recited in a low voice, trying his best to use his psychic power to dispel the evil forces that attempted to corrode their armor and minds for their comrades.

Along with the sticky sound of flesh being torn, a huge hydraulic claw broke through the wall. One of the two Sacred Dreadnoughts that were traveling with the commandos had already fallen. The one survivor drove a mech that had begun to show flesh and blood deformation and struggled to get here, ready to use his life to give the boys the final help.

Chapter 29 Lightning Storm

Leading the commando team into this seesaw battle between Chaos and the Greenskins was Miraak, the current Chapter Master of the Flame of Repentance.

As the commander of the Martyrs Legion, Miraak knew how much the war outside needed a respected leader like himself to take charge of the overall situation, but he still chose to personally lead the elite of his regiment into the fortress and launch this desperate assault.

This chapter leader has no desire for power or material things. The only thing he cares about is "glory".

To personally seize what the Emperor desires in the battle against the aliens is the supreme honor that the Space Marines desire.

The throne room in front of them was filled with a stench that even the Astartes could not stand. This stench was not a real smell, but a warp influence that directly hit the soul. It could not be filtered out by the helmet, and only when they were close to the Sister of Silence could the warriors breathe a little clean air.

There was a lack of lighting deep inside the fortress, and the surrounding vision was dark, with only the weird tentacles and other biological tissues that occasionally emitted an evil halo from hell. Fortunately, the Space Marines' eyes had been specially modified, so they could see even in the dark.

Everyone's eyes were locked on the throne of flesh and blood in the center of the room. The roaring orc warlord was covered with mutated vascular roots and rotten, festering sores. However, the warriors' faith was not shaken by this blasphemous scene, because in this twisted flesh and blood, they had found what the Lord of Humanity wanted:

The tree roots growing on the throne are intertwined, vaguely presenting a shape that is almost similar to a human body. From a distance, it looks like a palm holding the orc warlord tightly in the palm of its hand, or like a strange humanoid creature grown from the roots of a tree, "embracing" this throne of flesh and blood.

This humanoid creature is the treasure that contains enormous vitality that appeared in the prophetess Alexi's prophetic dream.

It was this that allowed the Orcs, who were lingering in the desolate galaxy, to rise rapidly to the point where they were able to build the Moon of War. It was also this that brought about the indescribable flesh and blood deformations before our eyes, and the vibrant and lovely life attracted the attention of the loving father.

"For the Emperor..." Mirak silently clenched the sword in his hand, and he vowed to seize this item for the Lord of Mankind.

The ardent belief called "Fire of Repentance" supported him and did not lose his mind in the whispers of the warp echoing around him. There was no need for much words between the battle brothers. Miraak, wearing a full set of ceramsite armor, shot out like a cannonball, and the Sister of Silence behind him followed closely with agility that was almost impossible to capture with the naked eye. The remaining dozen or so Space Marines quickly launched a standard triangular attack formation and advanced forward.

At the end of the charging team, the old Dreadnought with a rotten body looked at the brave backs of the young men. The unnaturally aged engine gritted its teeth and started running, striding forward with the last bit of strength.

This final throne room has no enemies, the true test comes from the soul, from the Warp.

The Space Marines kept silent with their bolters and did not fire. They spread out around the throne in tacit understanding and used their chainswords to cut at the tree roots that were growing in all directions. They tried their best to keep their sanity amid the echoing sounds of blasphemy while trying to dig out the humanoid creature lying on the orc warlord.

At the same time, the Dreadnought had already arrived in front of the Flesh and Blood Throne.

The huge orc slumped on the throne, unable to move, was covered with all kinds of rotten armor and weapons. If he stood up, this orc would be even bigger than the Dreadnought in front of him. The tremendous power contained in his sturdy body was enough to tear this rotten Dreadnought into pieces with his bare hands.

Because this is not it, but an orc warlord.

However, it could not stand up and could only watch with dismay as a huge, rusty hydraulic claw slowly reached out to its green head. Now, with just a little force, it could completely crush its head.

Miraak bowed his head and acquiesced to the old Dreadnought's honor of killing the Orc warlord with his own hands. He knew that the Dreadnought had been corrupted too deeply and could not be saved.

"Return to the Emperor with honor..." Mirak muttered to himself.

The throne room was noisy but not loud. The rumbling sound of the chainsaw sword drowned out the sticky sound of flesh and blood wriggling and growing. Only the whispers of the warp still surrounded the ears, never stopping, and the rise and fall seemed strangely harmonious.

But the next moment, a sound broke this harmony.

"I wouldn't kill that orc if I were you."

"who!"

Almost at the moment the sound appeared, the chainsaw swords in the hands of more than a dozen Space Marines and a Sister of Silence stopped working at the same moment, and the black muzzles of their guns were pointed in the direction where the sound came from. Without any extra words, the next moment a round of explosive bombs were fired in unison, and even several explosive bombs hit the same point at the same time.

However, such skillful shooting skills and such tacit teamwork were unable to lift even a corner of that man's cloak.

Appearing at the entrance to the throne room was a mysterious man in a black cloak.

The reason why he is mysterious is that this person has no facial features. There is no appearance on his face under the cloak. Only a hazy and misty psychic mist can be seen. Even the think tank unit of the psychic Astartes cannot see through this mist and get a glimpse of this person's true face.

This person held a dense sphere with brilliant stars flowing in one hand and a knife handle hanging behind his back in the other hand. He looked like a psychic wizard, or a wandering swordsman from nowhere.

Wait, can wandering wander into the battle moon?

"I……"

As soon as Russell opened his mouth, he was greeted by another round of coordinated bomb fire, but the scale was much smaller than the beginning, because several Space Marines in light power armor simply abandoned their chainswords and bolters, and with the cover of their battle brothers, they rushed over with daggers, trying to stab at close range.

Astartes combat common sense: to beat a psyker, you have to be fast, get close, and get close quickly.

"Can you please listen to what I say?" Russell reluctantly loosened his right hand that was holding the Huntress's Blade and snapped his fingers lightly.

The violent electric current appeared out of nowhere at this moment, sweeping across the throne room at an absolute speed that even the Astartes could not react to. Not a single inch of flesh and blood escaped this large-scale attack. The Sisters of Silence and the Librarian were able to rely on their own special abilities to barely survive the storm, but the other battle brothers were not so lucky. The dozen or so people who had just shot at Russell collapsed to the ground with convulsions in the storm, and only Captain Miraak was still barely able to stay awake.

In an instant, these think tanks who had practiced for hundreds of years saw the most destructive psychic lightning they had ever seen in their lives. They even felt that calling it psychic lightning was a bit inappropriate. The electric current washing the ground in this range should be called a lightning storm.

"Lightning Storm? What a good name." Russell smiled as if he had read what the think tank was thinking. As his fingertips closed, the lightning storm that had just indiscriminately bombarded the entire throne room disappeared in an instant.

The three Space Marines who were swept by the storm and tried to get close collapsed to the ground one after another. Their bodies convulsed slightly due to the overload of electricity, but the daggers in their hands were never loosened at all.

"What brave warriors! The Emperor would be proud of you." Russell praised the Astartes who was knocked to the ground by his electric shock. Then, he placed his hand on the Huntress's Blade at his waist:

"So, can you talk to me now?"

Chapter 30 Favor

As the storm swept through, the circuits inside the fearless mecha standing in front of the throne of flesh and blood were also disturbed by psychic energy. The hydraulic claw on its right hand stopped in mid-air, its decayed body stiffened unnaturally, and blue-purple electric currents flashed on the surface of the mecha from time to time.

However, even in the face of overwhelming psychic pressure, this battle-hardened dreadnought mecha still struggled to raise its left hand equipped with a heavy flamethrower and pointed it at Russell, who was standing at the entrance without moving.

The next moment, blazing flames engulfed the mysterious man in black robe.

The Space Marines who lost their ability to move in the lightning storm also quickly recovered from the spasm with their superhuman physique. Without any nonsense, they picked up the chainsaw swords and bolters that fell beside them the moment they climbed up. The Empire's double-headed eagle logo shone with golden light on the side of the gun.

At the same time, Sister Silence and Chapter Master Miraak, holding two-handed swords, had rushed to Russell.

"In the name of the Emperor..."

They threw down their weapons.

In the raging flames, the scorching temperature caused the edges of Russell's black cloak to curl up. There was an invisible force field around him. The swords in the hands of Miraak and Sister Silent, who came to attack him, pierced into the force field and were like being stuck in a muddy swamp. Not to mention causing any harm to Russell, they couldn't even retract their weapons.

Large-caliber bombs were embedded in the air in front of Russell and did not explode.

He was quite frustrated with the loyalty or stubbornness of the Space Marines: "In the name of the Emperor, can you please listen to what others say before you take up arms?"

Russell knew that it was indeed a bit unreasonable for him to appear here so suddenly, and it was reasonable that he would be regarded as a heretic, but they would not even give him time to finish his sentence. They picked up their weapons and beat up whoever they caught, which was a bit too extreme.

Forget it, since we can’t communicate with words, let’s find another way to communicate.

With a flick of his fingers, Russell once again released a violent lightning storm that thoroughly washed the throne room. A dozen black-armored Astartes who had just climbed up were knocked down again by him, but they still did not lose consciousness, and even when lying on the ground, they were still struggling to reach for the trigger.