The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"Sing! Destroy him!"

Eidolon, realizing the situation was dire, roared. Immediately, the Noise Marines reopened their mandibles, and the vox-grilles covering every surface of their armor, like barnacles, began to emit crackling feedback. They pulsed, radiating irregular violet light, and the sonic blasters clutched in their hands vibrated intensely.

Twenty-four Noise Marines formed a loose semicircle around Rozeem. Even Eidolon began to breathe deeply, opening his mandibles.

This would be a far more potent strike than the one that had just shattered the shield. This chorus was known as the Maraviglia Resonance—a reference to a grand symphony performed aboard the Emperor's Children flagship before their fall. As the magnificent performance of the Maraviglia drew to a close, all the singers on stage transformed into Slaaneshi daemons, and the mortal audience members were driven mad, slaughtering one another. The first Noise Marine was born during this performance, marking the beginning of the Emperor's Children's descent into the abyss. Even hearing a few seconds of this chaotic music would send Slaanesh's followers into an orgiastic frenzy, and its sheer power could overwhelm an armored division.

The Noise Marines' armor buzzed like a hive. The warp's power made the air ripple as if it were liquid. Faced with this overwhelming force, Rozeem remained calm and silent, his hands placed before his chest. He formed a fist with the four fingers of his left hand clasped over his thumb in his palm, grasped the index finger of his left hand with his right hand, closed his eyes slightly, and opened his mouth slightly, taking a deep breath.

Instantly, golden light blazed. Rozeem's robes billowed as if inflated.

The next second, the Noise Marines screamed, weaponized sound tearing from the speakers and vox-grilles on their armor, ripping through the discordant field. It combined with the ear-piercing shriek of the sonic cannons, unleashing power sufficient to shatter ceramite and liquefy flesh.

All sounds intertwined and echoed, amplifying one another. Invisible ripples, carrying shards of shattered metal, surged like a tidal wave, attempting to engulf Rozeem.

Rozeem suddenly opened his eyes, exhaling a voiceless syllable that could not exist in the mortal world.

"Ughaaaaa!!!!!"

In an instant, all the Noise Marines' armor exploded. Their weapons became flying shrapnel, and foul-smelling pus sprayed into the air. Their throats burst into bloody blossoms, their blasphemous alien organs reduced to a blur of rotten flesh. Even Eidolon staggered back a dozen steps, spitting out a mouthful of blood, his armor, which bound countless souls, riddled with cracks. Those souls dissolved into black smoke, dissipating into the air.

And that shriek, capable of tearing through the fabric of reality, was ultimately nothing more than a gentle breeze to Rozeem.

Lucius stared, his scarred, gaunt face twitching. If it were psychic power, he would have sensed it.

But from beginning to end, he had not felt a single iota of psychic energy from this man.

Just as he was stunned by Rozeem's sudden burst of power, the Undying One noticed a foul stench permeating the air, then observed mold and pustules slowly sprouting on the walls and floor.

"Eidolon, you really are a bunch of unreliable trash!"

In a voice like phlegm rattling in a throat, Typhus strode into the hall, surrounded by a retinue of Blightlords and Plague Marines.

"If I hadn't had the foresight to use a ship swap to throw you off, I would have been fooled!"

With that, he pointed his scythe at Eidolon.

"Now this place belongs to us, and this victory will belong to Father Nurgle!"

Eidolon, after bending over and spitting out the last of his blood, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, snorted, and kept his eyes warily fixed on Rozeem, saying slowly:

"Never mind who this place belongs to, let's deal with this problem first."

"Problem?"

Typhus finally noticed the person Lucius and Eidolon were facing as if facing a great enemy, and then—

"Y-you, you son of a bitch... Y-you... You can't, n-no... You can't do this... You can't!"

"Why can't I? I'm going to film it, make billions of copies, and sell them across the galaxy, making a fortune! How about you beg for mercy now?"

"Guh... I... I'll kill you... Kill, kill all of you!"

"Oh, look, he's covered in precious magical metal!"

"Waaaaa—get, get, get your dirty things away!"

"You bastards! Get away from me! Get out! I'll kill you!"

"Hahahaha! Don't stop it! Kron, wash him clean, I want to see if a follower of the Chaos God Nurgle will get excited after being whitewashed!"

Past memories instantly snapped the thread called reason.

"Aaaaaaaah!!!!!! It's you!!!!!! I'll blast you! I'll blast you into pieces!!!!!!!!"

The Nurgle's Chosen One picked up his scythe and charged towards Rozeem like a madman, leaving Eidolon completely dumbfounded.

"Why is his reaction so extreme... He's like a lunatic."

Just as Eidolon was pondering, Typhus's scythe swung at Rozeem, but the latter dodged the attack with a flash, then lifted his foot and kicked Typhus hard in the butt.

This blow didn't do much damage, but it seemed to remind Typhus of something, instantly maximizing the insult.

"Aaaaaaaah ha ha ha ha ha ha a!!!!!!! You dare!!!!!!!!!!"

What drove him even crazier was that Loken, who had been hiding not far away, suddenly poked his head out and said:

"Huh? Looks familiar? Isn't that the Plague Pig that Kron washed in the gutter?"

Loken's voice was small, but Space Marines have very good hearing.

Typhus was completely mad now. Countless buzzing black flies flew out of the boils and chimneys on his body, enveloping Rozeem like a cloud of poisonous smoke.

Then, as if they had seen a decaying corpse, they instantly wrapped Rozeem tightly, airtight, only showing a rough human outline, maintaining a posture of hands clasped together.

"Bite! Eat! Hollow out his soul! Drag him into Father's garden, I will torture him for eternity!!!!!!!!"

Typhus raised his hands almost madly, roaring venting, while a more intense blasphemous aura spread, and a viscous chuckle came from the darkness.

"Desecrate this place, I will make it a temple dedicated to Father, to bring destruction to his enemies!"

The chanting of Nurgle sorcerers came from afar, followed by the wet sound of footsteps. Grotesque Nurgle daemons and Nurglings emerged from ruptured boils, still covered in viscous liquid.

Suddenly, Typhus, whose sanity had finally recovered slightly, turned around and pointed his scythe at Eidolon.

"Get out! This is already Father's territory, and the world below is also Father's spoils."

Seeing that Rozeem seemed to have been dealt with, Eidolon secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then narrowed his eyes.

"We had an agreement, satisfy our need for slaves first."

"There was no agreement, do you think I can't see through your little trick, sending a few ships to attack this world without saying a word, letting us attract fire for you, you knew from the beginning that they had a Gloriana, but deliberately concealed it! I haven't even calculated the losses caused, Eidolon, this is not over."

"Ha, Typhus, you really are as consistent as ever, tearing down the bridge after crossing the river and still finding this pile of excuses."

"Not convinced? Then let the weapons speak."

As soon as these words came out, the atmosphere suddenly became tense. The surviving Third Legion warriors gathered around their commander, aiming their weapons at the Fourteenth Legion's Plague Marines, who also aimed their weapons at them, only Lucius and his warband watched coldly from the sidelines.