The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Chapter 1100: Army of Nurgle

"Let me see how much more Nurgle's lackey weighs than Khorne's!"

When he saw Fen Tian, ​​the body of the great impure person trembled slightly, and then the smile on his face disappeared.

"What a chore..."

With a grunting grunt, it then moved its massive body, waving a flail the size of a Land Speeder, towards Soshyan, who was charging towards him.

At the same time, the bells rang on the battlefield, and a large number of Nurgle demons followed their lords and attacked with laughter.

It would be an extraordinarily painful and brutal battle, not only for the astral warriors, but for mortals, including the nuns.

The raucous voices of those vicious enemies, heretics, lunatics and demons come from the smoke and shadows full of hatred, Willets My heart now burns with anger in addition to pain, and—

worry.

She saw Soshyan rushing towards the big devil.

alone -

This made her heart almost clenched tightly.

"We're going to suffer a lot here, sisters!"

There was a twinkle in Willett's beautiful eyes.

"But we should not mourn and weep over our pain! We should be inspired by our pain, where there is pain, life will be there! The spirit, the fire, and all that He has created for us will be there! Where there is pain, it is Where we fight with all the strength He has given us, until the time comes when we join the eternal glory by His side!"

The great nun raised her sword.

"Fight! Endure the pain! Persevere to the end!"

The nuns shouted together, and the enemy was already close at hand.

It was hundreds of Plaguebringers, Nurglings and Nurglings, all with their mouths open and shapeless, seemingly laughing, their green skin tumbled with herpes and pustules.

Among them, the Plaguebringer, as the main force of the Nurgle Legion, is the second most demon in the entire battlefield after Nurgle.

Accompanied by the pervasive poisonous mist, amid the humming of the swarms of flies, the plague messengers marched slowly forward with heavy steps, their bodies were shattered and twisted due to the disease, and their swollen abdomens were torn out of a large hole, in which drips dripped. The filthy intestines gleamed, and on the head with a filth-infested one-horn was a haggard face, with a wet, one-eyed staring straight ahead.

Driven by the power of decay, the lanky and clumsy limbs of the Plaguebringer can make him move with an astonishing swiftness. A single wound can bring down any mighty warrior.

Painless, the Plaguebringers ardently lead their foes into a never-ending war of attrition, in which only the servants of the Rotten Lord will emerge victorious.

It is said that the birth of the Plaguebringer comes from the energy of mortals who died due to the plague, and the souls of those infected with the plague will gradually be sucked into the garden of Nurgle and become a nodule growing on a gloomy branch. Seed pods.

Each pod will swell and mature with the Corruption of the Soul Eater Plague on its material world host, and the bred Plaguebringer will absorb the energy of the victim. When the bred Plaguebringer gradually matures, the pod will become a The pustules contain filth and give off a sickening odor, and when fully mature the pods fall to the ground, at which point the Plaguebringer rips through the pod's leathery husk and burrows out of it.

"In his name!"

Together, the nuns responded to Willetts, standing before the tide of the enemy.

Velec raised his Seiko Bolter at the Plaguebringers, and the holy bullet hit one of them, detonating it in a burst of flames.

The demonic flesh hissed with a stream of shining ash, and the entire upper body of the Plaguebringer was blown away, but the laughter seemed to grow louder.

Then Willetts turned and opened fire on another Plaguebringer who was slashing at the fallen Mujahideen. A large amount of pus splashed on the face of the man on the ground, burning and giving off a stench. The man screamed and covered his melted face. Rolling on the ground, he was quickly drowned by Nurgling.

But even so, Willetts fired at them again and again, the bolter bouncing in his hand until the magazine clicked empty.

Several more Nurgle demons were broken up and expelled by bombs, but more monsters were killed by the Rhino troop's autocannons and flamethrowers.

The nuns burned a clearing with flames.

"Purge this filth!"

Willetts withdrew the spent magazine from the bolter and replaced it with a new one.

In the wave of battle, each nun held his post, some roaring pure purifying flames with flamethrowers, dispelling dreads, some reciting scriptures aloud, firing bolt guns, before the enemy could get close Banish them before.

But only one dared to melee.

Karima Seid Olsson, wielding her rune-powered sword, swung the swirling blade so fast it was almost impossible to see.

Her armor was covered with the gleaming ashes like stars, like a ray of light in the darkness, forging a path in battle, driving away the demons to the left and right.

The nun's every move was perfect, every attack was deadly precise, and the enemy's filthy blood didn't even splash a drop on her body.

Even Willetts has repeatedly admitted that if swordsmanship is concerned, it is not only the Order of the Ebony Holy Grail, I am afraid that the entire Sisters of Battle will have few rivals.

"He is with us!"

But just after this sentence ~www.readwn.com~ a huge shadowy thing moved in the smoke.

It was laughing like the Plaguebringers, but Willett felt a strange chill wrapped around him like a shroud.

She looked up and saw an object flying out of the smoke.

This thing is not made of flesh and blood, but the embodiment of pure evil, from the warp, the terrifying whole of all the madness and cruelty of human beings brutally combined.

Four pairs of rotten, thin and huge wings vibrated in the air, whipping up a swarm of smoky flying insects. The legs still have sharp claws and rub against each other eerily, the torso has a pair of sharp forelimbs, and its lower body is festering and bloated.

Behind it sat a laughing Plaguebringer, holding a great hooked sword full of pus and herpes in one rough hand, and holding a A staff with an evil emblem of three rings on it.

The suffering of a whole world converged in its voice, smelled of a morgue at the very moment of its appearance, and tingled Willett's heart and soul by its mere presence.

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