Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry

The shield blocked Geguluo's attack, and the Mechanic Priest had his own means to ensure safety.

Geguluo withdrew his fist. He chose to give in to the stubbornness of the Mechanic Priest. He said why he had no reason to let the degraded body enter the battlefield.

"Because they are too unhealthy!" Geguluo complained, "These unhealthy things should stay here and take good care of themselves, instead of going out to embarrass us Death Guard."

The Mechanic Priest tilted his head and looked at Ge Tuoluo, and then a black mushroom grew out of Ge Tuoluo's armor. The mushroom swelled and pressed against Ge Tuoluo's nose.

The slightly funny picture made the Mechanicus sigh, and he had a new understanding of the Death Guard's mind.

A bunch of idiots.

The Mechanicus turned and left. If his biochemical brain had not been reprogrammed by Kalbohar, he would never have come to the plague-filled ship.

Their vaunted ship of life is seen by the Mechanicus as nothing more than a cruel blasphemy of steel and technology.

This rusty steel and cannon full of filth tortures the metal heart of the Mechanic Priest all the time.

Abaddon is a fool, and so is Typhonse.

Geguluo swallowed a mouthful of phlegm in dissatisfaction and complained quietly. Abaddon exchanged a large amount of supplies for Typhons's support. And this plague lord, who was obsessed with proving himself to his loving father, completely ignored the thoughts of his men and filled the warehouses of each plague warship with these disgusting degenerates.

Originally, those warehouses belonged to plague zombies and viruses, and the Nurglings would also arrange a paradise for them to play in the warehouses. Now those are all gone, leaving only various degenerates arranged neatly like bricks.

These degraded bodies are so clean that even soaking them in mud cannot change their pale skeletal armor.

These degenerated bodies were too cold, and Geguluo could not see any life from under their dark eye sockets.

Some plague brothers said: Geguluo! You are so suspicious! These degraded bodies are just a kind of weapon, just like the armed slave workers transformed by the Dark Mechanic God, they are just a group of cannon fodder that can be discarded at will!

But Gedro always felt that something was wrong with these degraded bodies. He felt that the proliferation of these things would destroy the unity of the Astartes.

He heard that when the degraded bodies were distributed, two war gangs clashed, and the winner took everything from the loser.

Geguluo's plague brothers went to the nourishment room to recover, while Geguluo himself went to the warehouse where the degraded bodies were housed.

A slave worker who is symbiotic with the control device is responsible for opening the door of the warehouse. He looks like a human-shaped tree and can only respond to Ge Tuluo's questions by making clicking sounds when his limbs move.

The door is open, and the degraded bodies stand closely together. They did not react in any way to Geguluo's arrival, just like the stone statues handed down from ancient times.

The door was closed, and only Geguluo and the degraded body were left in the warehouse.

Somehow, Geguluo suddenly felt that this warehouse was so cold that his blessed body was trembling slightly.

Are these soulless things looking at me?

Geguluo was startled by his thoughts, and he immediately ordered the slave workers to open the door.

The door opened, and he escaped from it like flying. When the door closed again, these degraded bodies still showed no reaction.

Geguluo told himself that he must bring others with him next time he comes here.

"Great! Great!" Typhons's wild laughter merged into the gunfire, and he witnessed a fortress fall under the onslaught of the degenerate body. "These degraded bodies are simply the best gift Abaddon gave me!"

"one two three four five six seven."

Typhons counted seven seconds in silence, and another fortress collapsed under the endless firepower of the degenerate body. The explosive bombs completely swept through every inch of the wall and every survivor in the fortress.

Some of the degenerates even undergo more wonderful mutations in battle, transforming from a pale Astartes into a pale Leman Russ or some other type of vehicle.

The loyal cannon fodder made Typhons' military force indestructible. Under the overwhelming numbers, he did not need to revise any complicated combat plans. He only needed to mix his own Death Guard into the degraded body to serve as the commander.

A Wither Overlord wearing a cavalry-type Terminator armor came to Typhons. The originally bone-white armor was full of dark green and embroidered yellow, with mottled holes all over the armor. A huge plastron blocked the Wither. The overlord's intestines should have flowed out.

The Wither Overlord reported their combat situation to Typhons. The casualties that should have been borne by the first company of the Death Guard were all borne by tens of thousands of degenerates.

Typhons had anticipated this. While listening to the report of the Decay Overlord, he watched with great interest as the Decay Lord under his command penetrated the disease deeply into the earth.

Typhons's mood became even better when he thought of more degraded bodies being continuously produced in the terminal's factory.

"Sentimental. Sentimental." Typhons sneered coldly. Only he knew that these words expressed his disdain for the original body of the Death Guard, Mortarion.

While Typhons was doing his best to fulfill his fatherly duties, what was his primarch doing?

Mortarion resented himself on the plague world, struggled with his primarch brothers, and struggled with the shadow of Barbarus's destroyed planet.

Every smoke from the Cauldron of Disease betrayed Mortarion's morbid sorrow, and Typhons could not accept such an unambitious Primarch to lead the entire Death Guard.

I, and I alone, am the true voice of the Father.

Typhons proudly thought that he would take advantage of the favorable wind of the Thirteenth Black Crusade and spread his father's gifts throughout the galaxy, thus proving that he was the child most worthy of Nurgle's love.

A three-hole brand was carved into the scarred earth. The Death Guard had completely conquered a planet in their own way.

Typhons gave an order for all troops to evacuate quickly, and the broken fragments of the degraded body were packed away by the plague engine, ready to be put into factories for cheap reproduction.

The Terminus left together with the battleships that surrounded him like flies, leaving behind a dark green trail of disease.

After a few weeks, the imperial fleet arrived belatedly, and the commander of the fleet issued an extermination order on the decaying planet.

An atmospheric incineration torpedo hit the surface of the planet, igniting all the free oxygen in the atmosphere. The vibrant planet burned for several months before cooling down. No matter how beautiful the planet was before the plague, now only There is bedrock with no grass growing underneath.