"Your arrogance will be your downfall, Primarch," the Plague Demon roared, its voice guttural and laced with amusement. Maggots tumbled from its maw, writhing on the ground in their insatiable hunger.
The Nurglings within its corpulent form echoed the roar with their own clumsy bellows.
From behind the lumbering daemon, Plaguebearers and Plague Marines emerged, bolstering the enemy's dwindling ranks.
These traitors had nearly condemned the entire planet, their vile rituals tearing open the fabric of reality, allowing the warp's corrupting influence to seep in and summon a demonic horde.
"This is your end, fiend," Guilliman declared, his voice ringing with righteous fury. "I will claim your head and present it to those weaklings behind you, a testament to my return and a dire warning to your foul patron."
With a thunderous boom, Guilliman charged. His immense form, clad in his power armor, caused the mold-covered ground to tremble. The flames licking off the Emperor's Sword intensified, its holy light a beacon of defiance against the daemon's putrid essence.
"For the Emperor and for vengeance!" roared the veteran Honor Guard, their loyalty unwavering. They launched themselves into the fray alongside Guilliman, fearless in the face of the demonic tide.
Gurlo, his face contorted with a twisted zeal, raised his rusted Plague Axe and bellowed a counter-order. Cultists and the remnants of his Plague Marines surged forward, eager to appease their dark gods with the blood of the loyalists.
Demons of Nurgle, a grotesque tapestry of decay and disease, erupted from the rent in reality, spewing forth like pus from a festering wound.
Rust Demons, Wither Demons, and a cacophony of other Nurgle-aligned daemons joined the fray. Left unchecked, these horrors would swiftly transform the planet into a festering plague world, a prime addition to Nurgle's grotesque garden.
Guilliman's eyes narrowed with grim determination. He wouldn't allow this desecration to occur. He would banish the demon, restore peace to this world, and reduce the traitorous leader to smoldering ash.
With a single, powerful swing of the Emperor's Sword, he clove a lesser daemon in two, its unholy essence extinguished with a hiss.
The Honor Guard, a whirlwind of bolter fire and unwavering courage, cleared a path around the Primarch, their volleys turning the charging enemies into bloody mist.
While they couldn't truly kill the daemons, they could shatter their physical forms, banishing them back to the roiling hell of the warp.
The Nurgle Demon, however, remained aloof, watching the carnage unfold with a malevolent grin. It wasn't interested in direct confrontation – not yet.
Its objective was to widen the rift between realities, allowing the full might of Nurgle's influence to flood the real world.
"Hold the line, brothers!" Guilliman roared through the comm channel, directing the Imperial space fighters to redouble their attack and contain the enemy's advance.
"Focus fire on the rift and keep those damned demons from spilling through!"
"Understood, my lord," Sicarius responded. "We will attack from the flank, and the Titans will push forward. Soon, they will reach the Flesh Tower!"
"Affirmative, my lord," Phikris and the Chief Think Tank of the Dawn Star Chapter echoed in unison. The Dawn Stars, a loyalist offshoot of the Ultramarines, were among the first to answer the call after Macragge's devastation.
Guilliman, heartened by the unwavering support of his forces, knew victory was within reach. He would purge this world of corruption, and the traitor who dared to defile it would pay the ultimate price.
The tide of the battle began to turn in favor of the loyalists. Guilliman's unwavering presence served as a rallying point, and the surrounding Ultramarines chapters, their loyalty to their primarch unmatched, fought with renewed vigor.
On Guilliman's right flank, two Leman Russ tanks, the workhorses of the Imperial Guard, rumbled forward. These venerable war machines, the oldest heavy tank models still in service, unleashed a torrent of firepower – bombs, artillery shells, and laser beams carving a bloody swathe through the enemy lines.
The Plaguebearer daemons guarding the traitors' left flank were no match for this onslaught. Their meager numbers crumbled before the terrifying might of the loyalist arsenal, limbs flying as they were ripped apart by explosions.
Meanwhile, two Redeemer Dreadnoughts, their mechanical bodies hissing and groaning, advanced on Guilliman's other flank. Assault cannons roared, spewing fire at the enemy ranks, while plasma incinerators glowed with an infernal heat, each shot leaving a trail of devastation.
The Chief Librarian of the Shusheng Star Chapter, his psychic power crackling around him, led the charge. His faith fueled his abilities, allowing him to channel increasingly potent psionic energy.
With a mighty roar, he unleashed a wave of psychic flame that swept across the battlefield, incinerating daemons and traitors alike. The air itself crackled with raw psychic power, leaving behind a smoldering trail of destruction.
A lone Plague Warrior, his body ravaged by Nurgle's touch, emerged from the wreckage, a boltgun clutched in his decaying hand. He fired blindly, fueled by a desperate hatred for the loyalist psyker.
But the Chief Librarian, his will an unyielding fortress, met the attack head-on. With a flex of his mental muscles, he crushed the Plague Warrior's body, flinging the lifeless husk at the enemy lines.
Despite the valiant efforts of the loyalists, the enemy refused to yield. Plague Marines and daemons, a grotesque amalgam of flesh and corruption, fought back with a feral fury.
Blade-laden shells tore through the ranks, turning loyal warriors into pools of putrid ichor. Some demons chose to fuse with the Plague Marines, bolstering their strength and resilience.
Suddenly, the earth trembled once more. A towering Imperator Titan, its plasma cannon a harbinger of doom, lumbered onto the battlefield.
This colossal war machine, a marvel of Imperial engineering, laid waste to everything in its path. Even the demon-possessed Plague Marines were no match for its devastating firepower.
Those unfortunate enough to be caught in the path of the Titan's wrath were reduced to mere smears on the battlefield, their unholy pacts offering no protection against such raw power.
Sicarius' voice boomed through the comm channels, his voice filled with triumph. He and his forces, aided by a contingent of fighters, had exploited the gap created by the Titan, flanking the enemy lines and pushing them back further.
The loyalists were on the offensive. Guilliman, ever the strategist, saw his opportunity. With a thunderous war cry, he surged forward, ready to exploit this newfound advantage and deliver the final blow to the forces of Chaos.
Guilliman's fist, empowered by raw psychic energy, detonated against the demon's skull, sending the monstrous creature reeling. With a triumphant stride, the Primarch marched towards the Flesh Tower, the very heart of the daemonic incursion.
"Now face me, fiend," Guilliman boomed, his voice echoing across the battlefield. "The others were but a prelude to this final act."
The Nurgle Demon, its face contorted in a grotesque parody of amusement, hefted its rusted plague cleaver. "You are more troublesome than Mortarion," it rasped.
"At least he understands the beauty of decay, the inevitable entropy of all things. He embraces the circle of life and death, the glorious rebirth that follows."
The demon lumbered towards the Primarch, its bulk deceptive. Despite its corpulent form, it moved with surprising agility, its weapon flashing in a deadly arc.
Guilliman, ever vigilant, deflected the blow with the Emperor's Sword, the holy light crackling against the rusted metal.
"Mortarion is a weakling, a simpleton seduced by empty promises," Guilliman retorted. "He worships a false god, a being of stagnation and rot. The Changer of Ways may offer allure, but in the end, it offers only oblivion."
"Do not twist my words, human," the demon snarled. "I speak not of your petty squabbles but of the universal truth, the inescapable cycle that governs all existence."
A flicker of a smile crossed Guilliman's lips. "You preach of truth, yet you squirm at my words. Perhaps there is some truth to them after all. Perhaps even a demon can feel the sting of being called out for its patron's failings."
With a roar, Guilliman launched his own counter-attack. The Emperor's Sword became a blur of holy light, forcing the demon back on its heels.
The Nurgle champion, despite its immense power, struggled to keep pace with the Primarch's relentless assault. The combination of Guilliman's superhuman strength and the holy aura of the Emperor's Sword was proving too much to bear.
"A pathetic excuse for a god," Guilliman taunted, "content with the weak and the broken. You are nothing but a bloated parasite, feeding off the misery of others. You are...utter trash."
A guttural roar erupted from the demon's maw as it finally snapped. Guilliman's relentless assault, both physical and verbal, had driven it to the edge.
Blinded by rage, the demon lashed out with reckless abandon, its attacks telegraphed and easily parried.
Guilliman's smile widened. "There it is," he chuckled. "The true face of a Chaos God's champion. All bark and no bite."
"You will pay for that insult!" the demon shrieked, its voice cracking with fury.
"Perhaps," Guilliman replied with a shrug. "But before we settle this, allow me to leave a permanent reminder."
With a surge of psychic energy, Guilliman branded the word "TRASH" onto the demon's corpulent form, the unholy light searing itself into the daemon's flesh.
"Now begone, creature," Guilliman commanded. "Tell your masters what awaits them. Tell them that Guilliman, Lord of Ultramar, will cleanse this galaxy of their corruption."
With another surge of power, Guilliman banished the demon back to the warp, a whimpering mess. The battlefield fell silent for a moment, the weight of the Primarch's victory settling over the remaining loyalists.
Guilliman, his gaze fixed on the Flesh Tower, knew his work was far from over. The true battle, the battle for the soul of the galaxy, had only just begun.
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What was MC's cheat again?
The more people recognize and pray for him, the stronger he becomes.
Did also included soul devouring?