Warhammer: The Worst Start There Is (40k) - Chapter 23: Must Stop

Majestic in stature, towering in size, just by looking at that giant, one could sense the boundless and overwhelming terrifying power within his form.

His voice resounded like natural thunder born from the heavens and earth, deafening and unsettling to the enemies.

He was a towering deity that should only exist in myths but had come to the mortal realm out of compassion for the suffering of mortals.

The difference in size between the giant and any Space Marine was as significant as that between a Space Marine and an ordinary human.

The blue armor reflected a radiance that seemed to carry the hope, comforting those who gazed upon it, dispelling some of their despair.

This suit of armor was clearly extraordinary, a masterpiece forged over millennia by the top savants of the Adeptus Mechanicus, incorporating countless advanced technologies.

The surface of the armor was covered in numerous runes, with the most prominent being the golden Imperial double-headed eagle set against a backdrop of sheaves in the center of the chestplate.

The towering figure, radiating a halo of light, bore a billowing white cloak.

The face revealed above the chestplate was stern and proud, a work of art as if crafted by the finest artisans, impeccable in every way.

Even without doing anything, it exuded an oppressive presence that warranted no offense.

The iron cross halo behind his head only further accentuated his majesty, making it clear that no one should dare to challenge him.

The deity descended from the sky, and with a single swing of his sword, he slew a Plague Marine, leaving all the enemies bewildered and terrified.

His arrival signified victory.

The impact of Guilliman’s landing made the earth groan under the burden, causing the cultists to stagger and tremble, filled with anxiety.

Many traitors shivered at the sight of a god descending onto the battlefield.

His presence left the cultists and Plague Marines stunned, and the terrifying oppression stripped them of their courage.

Guilliman gazed at the enemy with the awe-inspiring power of the original and the Armor of Fate, again marveling at their strength.

From a height of 1,600 meters, he could jump without any issues at all.

With a body this powerful, he could easily handle anything, and if he returned to his world, he could handle anyone who crossed his path.

Jumping directly from high altitudes was also a significant psychological blow to the enemy, and most of these individuals were utterly flabbergasted.

Originally, victory was already in hand, but suddenly, a Primarch popped up, causing their mental states to almost explode.

“You can’t change anything, Son of the False Emperor, your era has passed.”

The Plague Dreadnought, covered in flesh and metal, were the first to roar. The giant cannons mounted on their arms fired frantically, attempting to smother the Primarch with firepower.

The iron cross halo trembled slightly, and the visible force field enveloped Guilliman.

The enemy’s artillery could only create malicious flames on the force field, but they were powerless.

They couldn’t break through the Primarch’s defenses.

“Die, traitor.”

Guilliman stepped forward, and the flames rising on the Emperor’s Sword became even brighter.

Amid the shocked and incredulous gazes of the entire battlefield, the Dreadnought, forged from flesh and steel, was pierced through by a single strike from the Primarch.

Golden flames spread along the blade, and the enemy’s body began to burn fiercely.

“No!”

The champion Plague Marine within the Dreadnought’s sarcophagus let out a wailing cry.

Dreadnoughts contained a nutrient tank known as a “living coffin” or “sarcophagus.” These were used to place the severely injured and near-death warriors, whose bodies were beyond repair, allowing them to continue to serve.

The flesh, infested with numerous maggots, and the flies covering the Dreadnought, were all burned to charcoal by the intense golden flames.

Even the alloyed steel melted in the scorching golden fire, turning into molten iron.

Jian stared in awe at this god-like figure, almost unable to regain his senses.

It wasn’t until the sharp whistle of the airstream sounded in his ears that he snapped out of his numb state and raised his head.

Rectangular Thunderhawks flew low, roaring past, with their forward-mounted burst cannons emitting burst beams and their bottom-mounted auto-cannons automatically strafing.

Cultists and traitor soldiers were suppressed and scattered, howling in agony.

The Thunderhawk gunships left behind a trail of explosion and fire as the Imperial Air Force efficiently cleaned up all the enemies.

High above, Stormbirds and other aircraft swept across the sky, conducting saturation bombing on the ground.

In the high altitude, spears of light pierced through the plague clouds that covered the entire planet, descending from the sky. When they hit the ground, they turned a radius of hundreds of meters into ashes and glass.

Under this divine-like attack, the plague-infested corpses, Plague Marines, and Daemon Engines were all obliterated.

Jian was in utter shock. He went from the brink of despair and death to a sudden reversal of the situation, and he was completely unprepared for it.

He kept his gaze fixed on the colossal figure in blue armor. The face looked very familiar to him, but he couldn’t recall the person’s true identity.

“Is he the Emperor’s Great Angel? I saw him next to the Emperor’s sculpture.”

The little girl saved by Jian pointed at the blue figure that swept everything away and destroyed all the enemies.

Jian’s foggy mind suddenly cleared, as if a lightning bolt had passed through the mist.

“The… the Primarch. The Emperor’s child, the true Lord of Ultramar.”

Realizing the identity of the figure, Jian stumbled over his words.

The faces of the other soldiers were equally astonished. The Primarch and the Emperor had become myths that could no longer be traced in the span of ten thousand years.

Many ancient histories have been lost to the sands of time, and the original truth can no longer be glimpsed.

Except for the Primarch’s homeworld, many people doubted whether the Imperium had truly possessed those powerful, wise, god-like originals.

And now, all doubts were shattered.

A true Primarch appeared before the world, and this was the best evidence.

Just as described in those myths, they were unstoppable, able to destroy anything in their path.

Any enemies who sought to oppose them would be utterly annihilated.

Jian, realizing that this planet was being saved, showed a hint of ecstasy. His inner despair and pessimism were completely swept away.

“Countercharge! quickly! countercharge!”

“Countercharge! all units that hear my command! execute this order. Hurry! countercharge! we’re going to win!”

Jian shouted with all his might, giving orders to all units he could contact.

After shouting, Jian, holding his command sword and pistol, prepared to join the charging troops.

Victory was calling him.

Glory and triumph were also calling him.

Cough! Cough! Cough! Severe coughing forced him to stop. The excruciating pain made him feel like he could cough up his own lungs.

His body had never been so weak, and he suddenly felt so tired that he couldn’t move.

Exhaustion seeped into every cell, making it impossible for him to even stand.

“Are you alright, Commander?”

Seeing Jian’s condition, his bodyguard, with a nervous and anxious expression, asked.

“I’m fine, I’m not… ugh.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Jian spat out blood and collapsed backwards.

“Medic, quick, get a medic!”

“This way, this way.”

“Uncle, please don’t die, Uncle.”

Jian’s vision became blurry, and the pained cries of his bodyguard echoed in his ears.

The little girl shook his body, her tone filled with sadness.

Many people lifted him and placed him in another location.

Jian was not sure what it was.

It could be a stretcher or a transport vehicle.

Right now, he felt quite confused, with a very weak perception of the outside world, relying only on hearing and touch.

Some were crying, and others were shouting.

It seems I’m not entirely disliked; at least some people will cry for me.

His mind gradually became hazy, and Jian felt that thinking was getting increasingly difficult.

This gave him a little psychological comfort.

Merciful Emperor, forgive my inept life. May I return to your kingdom.

The tormented man uttered his final prayer and then plunged into darkness.

Guilliman advanced towards the battlefield, with no enemy capable of stopping him.

Anyone attempting to do so would meet a fate of being torn apart by him.

The arrival of the Primarch signified victory, an unstoppable victory.

“Over there, my Lord,” A space marine of the Dawn Guardians Chapter pointed in a direction. “There’s a very strong subspace fluctuation emanating from that area, and the fabric of reality is weakening. The enemy’s ritual is likely happening over there.”

Guilliman followed the indicated direction, where a dense plague cloud shrouded the ruins, giving an uneasy feeling. He furrowed his brows.

“Advance.”

He didn’t say much but raised his sword, signaling the other warriors to continue forward.

No matter how you put it, stopping the enemy’s ritual was the most crucial task at hand.