Warhammer [518-520] (Patreon)

Chapter 518: Mortarion Captured Alive, Escorted Back to the Imperium for Trial

 "After Lightforging, you'll be blessed with a luminous energy—a positive power that can even heal nearby allies' wounds," Rhodes said.

In the Ultraman-system universe, light energy is extremely useful. Like cosmic kaiju energy, it's a positive force within realspace, capable of resisting certain Warp incursions.

It also counters chaos-and-darkness-aligned sorcery.

The Ultraman-system's dark energy is an evil force that corrodes living beings.

Rhodes nodded to Titus and entered the cell. He looked at the utterly miserable Daemon Prince—Mortarion, once a Primarch.

Mortarion's body had partially recovered, but he was still a wretched sight, lying unconscious.

Rhodes raised his hand and, with powerful psychic force, drew a thread of energy from the Warp, channeling it into Mortarion to wake him.

"Mortarion, you really are in a pathetic state," Rhodes said with a slight smile.

The very first words Mortarion heard on waking made him wish he were dead.

He glared, teeth clenched, at the man before him—over two meters tall, with black hair.

"Who are you to speak to me like this? You're just a gaoler watching over me! Get out!" Mortarion howled in rage. Though imprisoned and shackled of his psychic power, he wasn't about to be insulted by some common jailer.

"Which is why I said your eyesight is poor. If I can be here, I'm obviously not a common gaoler. You need to get that straight," Rhodes replied.

Primarchs are proud. Even after two straight defeats, Mortarion's arrogance hadn't budged!

All Primarchs today, after fusing with cosmic kaiju, can assume normal human size. There's no need to maintain that nearly four-meter height.

Though, to be fair, that intel is tightly classified in the Imperium, and those who've seen Rhodes's gene-line probably aren't talking.

 "Get out! Call your legion commander here," Mortarion snapped.

"Very well, introductions then. I am the leader of this new legion—the Legion of the Space Guard. Primarch Rhodes. My subordinates captured you," Rhodes said with a cold laugh.

"So you're the new Primarch. I thought you were someone impressive. Your size isn't even up to a standard Astartes," Mortarion snorted.

"When you say things like that, it really troubles me.

The world you see hasn't changed from ten thousand years ago," Rhodes said, shaking his head helplessly.

"You mean you can also gigantify—change your size at will?" Mortarion asked.

"Not totally dense, but that's as far as my expectations go. Next, I'm sending you to Holy Terra for a grand public execution. We'll put this traitor to death," Rhodes said.

Mortarion has no chance at redemption. He attacked the Grey Knights, and was even banished.

Given his personality, he won't return to the Imperium. He's exactly the type to betray the Emperor.

When the Emperor created the Primarchs, He knew that due to Warp nature there was a fifty-fifty chance any of them could fall to Chaos. He intended to keep them close, to raise them personally and minimize the risk.

But the Four Chaos Powers saw through His plan and ruined it all.

"Hahaha! A public execution for me? Funniest joke I've heard. Why? On what grounds?

Shouldn't you execute Horus and Magnus? They caused the real disasters, didn't they?" Mortarion roared.

Those two fools: one the true instigator and leader of the Heresy.

The other blew up the Webway, forcing the Emperor onto the Golden Throne, unable to personally crush Horus's rebellion in time.

And those two—the reason He sits on the Throne—were forgiven by their father and returned to the Imperium. What a farce!

"Lorgar blowing the Webway? That was a Chaos scheme.

You don't think Magnus and his legion alone could blow a hole in the Webway, do you?

It was just a psychic call, not a psychic bomb," Rhodes said.

After so many years, even the Emperor has acknowledged some truths. Magnus didn't have the ability to precisely blast the Webway.

It was all a Chaos plot.

As for Horus, Rhodes couldn't be bothered to explain. Whoever sat as Warmaster in those conditions would have been corrupted by Chaos—only the method would differ.

Erebus would have found another way—tainting Guilliman with the poisoned arrow that hit Horus, or corrupting Sanguinius.

Then showing them the future.

"Why are you sighing? Am I wrong? Do you know the life I've lived? In everyone's eyes I'm a monster."

"Really? More of a monster than Angron? Did you ever serve as the Emperor's executioner? Carry out missions like the Dark Angels or Space Wolves?

By your logic, everyone should betray the Emperor. After all, when He created the Primarchs, He made you as tools," Rhodes sneered.

Mortarion is a thorough coward—the Primarch Rhodes despises most, even more than Fulgrim.

Others chose to fall, sought Chaos's embrace. You were manipulated by your own subordinate into going to Nurgle.

Rhodes shook his head, done talking, and turned to leave the cell.

 "Stop! What do you know? What do you bastards know? You don't understand!" Mortarion raved.

Rhodes turned back, a crimson gleam flashing over him. He lifted his palm and fired nearly the weakest Steel-Force Ox-Breaking Fist.

He blasted Mortarion until only a head remained. The pitiful Primarch fainted again.

"That's better. Now you can't buzz and whine like a fly," Rhodes snorted, then left, instructing Titus to keep a close watch.

On the bridge, Rhodes opened comms to Guilliman on Holy Terra.

"Rhodes, how are things on your end?" Guilliman asked urgently as the link opened.

His Ultramar—500 Worlds—had stabilized thanks to the hundreds of thousands of reinforcements Rhodes sent and the Salamander Primarch's support. The Chaos forces were even in full retreat.

Now he was only worried about Rhodes's front. This time Chaos had upgraded—they'd acquired gigantification.

"Relax. It's over here too. I didn't even need to act—Titus alone put Mortarion down," Rhodes said.

"Mortarion was defeated by your gene-son? Impossible! Tell me everything," Guilliman said, astonished.

"So here's what happened…" Rhodes explained the entire campaign.

"Nurgle didn't give Mortarion the gigantification upgrade? Many Great Unclean Ones have it. Even some Chaos Champions. Mortarion didn't? How low is he in Nurgle's favor?"

"Even gigantified, he might not beat Titus.

Unless they do Horus-level nonsense and make Mortarion unkillable, he dies either way," Rhodes said.

Yes, they both can gigantify, but Chaos's version can't compare to ours—they're not on the same level.

Super-beasts surpass common kaiju. Cosmic kaiju aren't something mundane monsters can match.

"I see. Then we've won this war. As long as we block the God-Plague, Nurgle's plan fails," Guilliman nodded.

His brother's swift defeat still felt unreal, but considering the power jump after fusing with cosmic kaiju, it made sense.

Without gigantification—without being a super-lifeform—you can't understand their strength.

"We're building a powerful amplification array here. The Life-Goddess Isha and one of my subordinates who wields light-energy will use it to project a field of light and life across worlds in the galaxy, thoroughly purging the God-Plague and shielding them," Rhodes said.

The Life Goddess's power checks Warp energy; the Angel Zog's light dispels physical plagues. Nurgle has no answer.

That fat green blob can't project his true form into realspace anyway.

"Understood. Need anything from me?" Guilliman asked.

A power amplifier—akin to Terra's new beacon—could indeed counter the Warp-borne plague. He fully agreed.

"No need. I've got the manpower and materiel. For the structure, I'll use extradimensional metal," Rhodes said.

With extradimensional metal, he could later use the amplifier to channel extradimensional energy—best results via extradimensional space.

"Got it. The crusade proceeds. Finish Phase Two, then Phase Three. We'll conquer the Imperium Nihilus," Guilliman said.

That war was already underway, executed by Lion El'Jonson and Horus.

Once the Imperium Sanctus's deployments finish, they'll reinforce them.

"What about Mortarion? Are you ready? I can ship him to Terra anytime," Rhodes asked.

They had long planned to execute a traitor-Primarch publicly. Magnus was the first candidate; now it would be Mortarion.

"It's complicated. Father has agreed, but we need to recall all Primarchs operating abroad, hold a grand public tribunal, proclaim Mortarion's crimes, then execute him," Guilliman said.

A priceless morale boost for the Imperium—too good to miss. The traitor Mortarion would receive his due.

"Understood. You have one year. In a year, we meet on Holy Terra," Rhodes said.

"Good. In a year, we execute the traitor on Holy Terra."

They nodded and cut the link.

News of the Imperium's great victory spread like a storm.

Chapter 519: The Lord of Fire and Dragons Hammers a Great Unclean One, Battles Typhus

News of Mortarion captured alive reached Macragge, under attack by Chaos fleets, and massively boosted the defenders' morale.

"Glory to the Lord Commander of the Imperium!"

"Glory to the Imperial Heir Apparent!"

"A noble and great victory! The daemon traitor is defeated—taken alive!"

"We push harder! Warriors, annihilate the daemons, retake our home, purge the scum!" Vulkan, the Lord of Fire and Dragons, raised his massive thunder hammer and roared.

Empowered by cosmic kaiju energy, the Lord of Fire became a giant nearly 70 meters tall.

He swung his hammer, clashing with an upgraded Great Unclean One.

A swollen mass of meat, oozing acids—a nauseating monster a hundred meters tall, a moving mountain of flesh, drooling thick green fluid that infected and corroded the land. Only a gigantified Primarch like Vulkan would face such a foe.

"Roooar! The Great Father blesses you! Receive His gifts! All of you will be blessed!" the bloated green giant bellowed.

Behind it, countless Nurgle daemons, Death Guard Chaos Marines, and fallen cultists raised their weapons high, cheering for their Great Father's gifts.

"But not today, monster. Today you die by my hand," Vulkan roared.

His roar turned into a Warp shockwave, detonating in the skies above Macragge. The 70-meter giant flared with molten crimson light.

He stepped forward; under cosmic kaiju power the ground became boiling steel. The Great Unclean One's feet sank into the searing trap.

"For the Emperor!" The Lord of Fire's hammer descended like a star aflame.

The daemon tried to parry with a corroded scythe, but the ancient Salamanders runes on the hammer-face burned through the weapon on contact.

With sickening pops of bursting fat, the hammer punched through the daemon's rancid gut; the pus-blood vaporized into a reeking emerald haze before it could spray.

The swollen colossus staggered back, watching in shock as its wound failed to regenerate—seared by eternal fire—howling in agony.

"Impossible! The Father's gifts… will never—" Its wail was cut off.

Vulkan's titanic hand clamped its putrid head like iron tongs of magma. "Your 'Father' can't save you."

His voice rumbled like a volcano on the brink. Fingers tightened; the bloated skull warped in the heat, pus and rot hissing into steam.

It thrashed, tendrils trying to wrap Vulkan's arms, but the corrupt flesh ignited to ash the instant it touched him.

"Now, to ash."

White light flared in Vulkan's eyes. He raised the hammer again, the head gathering flame enough to scour stars.

Boom!

The hammer fell. Blinding fire swallowed the field.

The Great Unclean One's body exploded into quarters; every flying chunk of meat burned to nothing midair, not a scrap left.

The shockwave swept the battlefield, flinging back Nurgle daemons and Plague Marines, their bodies twisting in the heat and crumbling to dust.

Gigantified, Vulkan's might was unimaginable, making the Chaos host falter.

Cosmic kaiju power fused with his Unkillable nature, plus awakened Warp essence—his strength multiplied dozens of times.

Endless flame poured from him, a vengeful inferno scorching the Nurgle host.

"Now!" At his roar, Salamanders ships in orbit unleashed firebombardments.

They swallowed the Death Guard's plague phalanxes. The Ultramarines counterattacked; Cato Sicarius led vanguard units like a silver-blue lightning bolt through daemon lines.

Rhodes's reinforcements—the Space Guard legionaries—entered the fray, charging under Vice-Commander Tyberos.

When the surviving daemons tried to reform, the sky turned dark red.

Vulkan sneered. Fiery wings unfurled behind him; he became a blazing comet plunging into the enemy.

He seized the largest plague-drake's jaw in midair; muscles fueled by psyker might tore the daemon in half. Its guts rained down upon the fleeing Plague Marines.

On the ground, Salamanders Terminators in Purifier flame-tanks crushed the scattering cultists.

Each exhaust spat white-hot fire blessed by Vulkan, burning Nurgle's gardens to ash.

The Ultramarines' strike cruiser Pride of Macragge, with new macro-plasma batteries, vaporized plague ships attempting landings in low orbit.

"Salamanders—forward!" Vulkan's roar shook the earth, wreathed in soul-searing flame.

His sons charged, lava-weapons ripping fire-walls through the foe.

Ultramarines followed—bolters thundered, power swords flashed, weaving a net of death.

Rhodes's gene-sons fired pale-blue Peddani beams, deleting daemons one by one.

Then, behind the collapsing Chaos line, a Warp rift yawned open—Typhus, Lord of Contagion and new Death Guard Primarch-in-all-but-name, appeared.

He arrived with the Death Guard elite—his corroded Terminator plate crawling with maggots; his manreaper dripped universal solvent.

"Vulkan! Your fire will gutter out, but the Father's plagues endure forever!

I'll slay you here, as I defeated Mortarion. The era of Primarchs is over; ours has begun!"

Typhus howled, scythe cleaving for the Primarch.

Vulkan sneered. Hammer met scythe; the shock shattered a hundred meters of ground.

"Your master is captured alive. You're next—cinders," he said, striking harder, each blow fury to burn worlds.

"Arrogant maggot!" Vulkan's roar tore a burning gash in the Warp. Hammer met scythe; the blast vitrified the soil for hundreds of meters. The heat could melt anything.

Flame-Golza is the perfect cosmic kaiju for the Lord of Fire. After conversion to cosmic kaiju…

Golza's heat, tempered by stellar energy, is lethal to approach—even for Astartes.

Typhus's armor warped; maggots popped like blisters—but his laugh stayed raspy.

"You cannot burn away the Father's gifts! He shields me!"

He poured plague-fog from his scythe to corrode Vulkan's weapon.

But the hammer, reforged by cosmic kaiju power, would not decay—the Salamanders runes flashed; the fog burned to nullity before it neared. Vulkan seized the opening and uppercut his jaw.

"This one's for the Imperium you betrayed!" The Primarch's fist was a stellar core. Typhus's helmet shattered; his rotted face carbonized and sloughed off to bone.

Nurgle's blessing forced his flesh to knit, fibers writhing like worms.

"Useless, Vulkan! I've transcended life and death—" He slashed, the blade scoring Vulkan's pauldron, leaving a green-smoking scar.

A heartbeat later, Vulkan's Unkillable trait surged; the wound sealed in flame.

"Let's see whether your pestilence is tougher—or my wrath eternal!" Don't think only you regenerate. Learn what the Unkillable can do.

I'm the most durable Primarch; after fusing with cosmic kaiju, even more so.

Vulkan suddenly dropped the hammer, seized Typhus's shoulders with molten-iron hands, and ignited him from within with white-hot purging fire.

Typhus shrieked inhumanly, viscera boiling, maggots bursting in his veins—yet Nurgle's blessing kept him writhing.

"I told you—you can't burn me!" He snapped his jaw down and vomited a concentrated plague torrent at Vulkan's face.

At the last instant, golden light flared in Vulkan's eyes; a kaiju-forged firewall appeared and vaporized the toxin.

"Your tricks end now."

His back flared; wings of pure flame opened. He became a burning meteor, driving Typhus into the sky.

Fused with cosmic kaiju, he could easily reach space. This time he would end the so-called new legion master.

A head-on blow to Nurgle for all the mortals slain by the God-Plague—the Salamanders' wrath.

Chapter 520: Typhus Slain, Dozens of Greater Daemons and Daemon Princes Felled

"No! Let go of me, you damned—curse you!"

Typhus struggled and cursed, but Vulkan's arms were stellar forges, spearing upward.

They punched through the clouds to the edge of atmosphere. On the ground, soldiers looked up to see a second blazing sun.

"Be purified, traitor!" Vulkan pushed his psyker power to the limit. His body swelled again under cosmic kaiju force; cracks in his skin jetted liquid flame.

Fear finally reached Typhus; his regeneration failed under the heat. Armor melted; rotten flesh turned to ash.

The Great Father's blessing seemed unable to withstand the Lord of Fire.

"Father… save me…" His howl cut off—Vulkan flexed and ripped him in two.

Before the halves could fall, a dragon's breath engulfed them, annihilating even the soul.

Vulkan plunged like a fire meteor, detonating among the daemons, scattering them.

"Typhus is dead! Angels of Death—grind them to dust! Destroy the traitors!"

His hammer smashed down; the shockwave pulped hundreds of Plague Marines.

The terror made even Plague Marines hesitate. Was this really a Primarch—or an inexhaustible Titan?

Is this an opponent we can defeat?

 "Roar! The Great Father won't fail!" A clutch of Daemon Princes and Great Unclean Ones refused to flee.

A dozen gigantified greater daemons and princes encircled Vulkan, intent on a kill.

"Come together, then—I won't have to hunt you one by one!"

Vulkan's roar boomed. The 70-meter giant strode like a moving volcano.

A plague-greatsword chopped down; Vulkan didn't dodge, letting it bite his flaming shoulder—the blade melted to slag on contact. "Too slow."

He grabbed the daemon's horn and smashed its pustular head into the ground. The earth cracked; magma geysered up and swallowed it.

A Daemon Prince dove from behind, spreading diseased spores from bat-wings. Vulkan's fire-wings swept out, cleaving it in half.

Two more raked his back—only to be blasted away by reactive flame, their arms carbonizing mid-flight.

"The Father's gif—" A charred greater daemon tried to rise; the hammer fell like a meteor into its chest.

Runes flashed like a supernova; it ignited from within, bursting into a storm of sparks.

Burned to nothing in the terrible heat.

"Is that all? Is that the fullness of Nurgle? Answer me, daemon!" Vulkan's voice was a corequake; heat warped the air for kilometers.

Seven remaining greater daemons roared and merged—pus and rot weaving a nauseating meat-mountain.

They combined all power to face the terrifying Primarch.

The fused abomination stood over 200 meters tall. Its belly, a patchwork of anguished faces, split and vomited acid enough to corrode a starship.

Vulkan crossed his arms; a shield of pure kaiju flame condensed around him.

The acid hissed, but couldn't pierce the barrier.

"My turn."

He transmuted the shield into a spear of fire and hurled it through the daemon's belly.

As it screamed, he leapt high, set for a home-run swing.

The hammer fell with unstoppable might—sky-splitting fire erupted. The blast was so bright mortal Astartes couldn't look.

The shockwave swept the field, flinging Nurgle's army across a hundred kilometers. Vulkan pushed his kaiju energy to the edge.

When the glare faded, a sight to remember forever: Vulkan knelt on one knee at the center of a kilometer-wide lava lake. His hammer had melted from overload, but he stood unscathed in the fire.

Worse for the foe, the scattered daemon-soul fragments around him were being burned away by his flames.

The last Daemon Princes tried to rip open Warp-rifts to flee. Vulkan simply raised his left hand—chains of fire snared their ankles.

"Come and go as you please? I think not." The chains snapped tight, dragging them back.

No Daemon Prince or greater daemon would leave alive today. All would die.

"The Emperor's wrath. My wrath. The Imperium's wrath. The wrath of every mortal you butchered—all become flame, now."

A five-hundred-meter pillar of fire shot skyward—kaiju-powered annihilation burning for minutes.

When the light faded, no trace of Nurgle remained—not even tainted soil, now vitrified into pure glass.

"Impossible…" A Death Guard captain fell to his knees, plague rifle slipping from trembling hands.

The scene shattered their last shard of faith—they had watched a single Primarch burn a dozen Nurgle-blessed greater daemons and princes like kindling.

Surviving Death Guard dropped their weapons, keening in despair.

Nurgle's gifts seemed laughable now. Vulkan returned to normal size and faced the traitors.

To everyone's surprise, he didn't execute them on the spot.

He strode forward, each step leaving molten prints in the scorched earth.

"Carry a message to your Chaos masters," he said, voice calm—and more terrifying than his roar. "Tell them the Imperium has awakened. Tell them I will personally purify every world touched by plague. Tell them—prepare for humanity's revenge."

It was the final warning to Chaos—and the most stunning coda to this epic battle.

Vulkan spared only a few Plague Marines to bear the message. All other Nurgle daemons and cultists would die here.

The surviving daemons broke and fled; some leapt into their own Warp rifts. Mefilas, watching, smiled and sealed nearby portals with terrifying telekinesis, trapping them.

What an enjoyable battle—hardly any chance to act; the Lord of Fire was on a rampage.

His display of power even made Mefilas feel dread. Vulkan and the master's fire-aspected kaiju Golza were a perfect match.

Vulkan drew a deep breath; stored kaiju energy became a dragon's breath of annihilating heat, sweeping the field, purging fleeing daemons and corrupt land alike.

Salamanders, Ultramarines, and Space Guard Astartes roared and charged.

The Space Guard picked off runners with precise Peddani beams; Ultramarine vanguards speared through the Death Guard's last line.

Leaderless, the Chaos host collapsed—some burned, some were blown apart.

When the last Great Unclean One turned to charcoal in Vulkan's molten grip, the surviving Death Guard began a full retreat.

The Lord of Fire stood amid a sea of corpses, shrinking to normal size. His breath still shimmered with heat. He told Sicarius, who arrived to link up, "Tell Guilliman: Macragge's sky belongs to mankind again."

The defenders raised power swords to the stars, and a new battle-cry shook the sector:

"Hail the great Lord of Fire and Dragons!"

"Hail the mighty Salamanders!"

"Long live the Imperium!"

Nurgle's hosts were defeated. His plague war had wrought unimaginable disaster early on, but the two plague armies he sent were crushed in under a month.

Dozens of greater daemons and Daemon Princes died outright. The fallen Primarch-turned-Daemon Prince Mortarion was captured alive. Typhus, Nurgle's chosen, was slain by Vulkan.

With their defeat, the God-Plague's virulence waned, though it had not vanished.

On the Kaiju World, at Rhodes's command, a hundred million Imperial laborers worked around the clock to erect a sky-piercing energy amplification spire. Once complete, it would disperse every plague.

…

In the Warp, a pitch-black, winged, crow-feathered figure stood before a palace gate.

"Lorgar! How long will you hide? Come out and face me."