Chapter 120: Nurgle's Retribution

"I am Jose Indel, commander of the Star Voyager Primarch's Honor Guard. I am now fully assuming command of your regiment's combat mission; you are cleared to return to the rear for refitting."

On the front lines of the 13th Regiment, Jose stood beside Laust, recounting the order to take over the position.

"Understood, Commander Jose. The lines are yours. We will head back to refit now." Laust looked at Jose and replied with a smile.

"You have ten minutes to organize your weapons and equipment before you withdraw," Jose said, nodding. He was granting them a ten-minute window to prepare their gear for departure.

"No need, we're already packed. I'm moving out now," Laust replied, waving his hand.

"Already packed? That's impossible. I just saw your soldiers firing from the trenches a moment ago," Jose said, puzzled, watching Laust sling his lasgun and prepare to leave.

"Commander Jose, please look over there." Laust gestured toward the 13th Regiment soldiers, who were already hauling their heavy weapons and equipment toward the rear.

Jose stared at the soldiers, feeling bewildered. He hadn't been speaking with Laust for even two minutes; how on earth had they managed to pack up all those heavy weapons and equipment in such a short time? The speed was incredible.

"Very well, Sergeant Laust." Jose took one last look at him before leading the Honor Guard onto the front lines to take over the battle.

"For the Sacred Gene-Primarch!" Jose roared their war cry, drawing his power sword and pointing it toward the swarm of Nurgle poxwalkers.

Once the Honor Guard took command, the poxwalkers were quickly decimated. Precise, rhythmic lasgun volleys mowed them down like wheat, and heavy fire support prevented the Plague Marines and Nurgle daemons hidden within the swarm from ever reaching the lines. The thirty experimental mechs performed exceptionally well, their mounted heavy weaponry and power weapons proving perfectly suited for both ranged and close-quarters combat.

"Boss! Boss! We've captured that Plague Marine!" Qin Ji shouted while knocking on the door of Wang Ming’s office.

*Click.*

The door slowly opened, and Wang Ming stepped out, holding a report from the First Engineer Company regarding the establishment of factories in secure areas of the Gobe world.

"Where is he?" Wang Ming tossed the file onto a small chair by the door and stepped out to look at Qin Ji.

"He's at our base," Qin Ji said quickly, eager to see the Plague Marine burned to ashes.

"Fine, let's go." Hearing this, Wang Ming prepared to leave immediately to finish off the creature; he had a mountain of other things to deal with.

"Uh, Boss, aren't you going to put on your power armor?" Qin Ji asked, watching Wang Ming walk toward the castle exit. Wang Ming was currently wearing only a "Star Voyager" starry-camouflage outfit.

This was the standard uniform for Star Voyagers, worn by everyone when not in combat. Wang Ming had made one for himself, scaled to his Primarch physique.

"Forget it, putting on the power armor is too much of a hassle. Let's just go." In truth, Wang Ming loved his power armor—the gold plating with silver trim and exquisite relief patterns—but he found that whenever he tried to handle paperwork, he couldn't even hold a pen while wearing it. Much like Guilliman’s Hand of Dominion, Wang Ming’s armored hands were simply too large for delicate tasks.

He had decided that since he had to strip off the armor every time he did paperwork, he would simply stop wearing it unless he was in battle.

"Let's go," Wang Ming said, heading for the exit. He didn't know that his decision to leave the armor behind would come at a small price.

Outside the castle, Wang Ming and Qin Ji boarded a Land Raider and headed for the base. It was a scene reminiscent of the Great Crusade: vehicles and aircraft buzzed to and fro, with mortal Auxilia and Star Voyagers traveling together toward various battlefields.

Upon arrival, Qin Ji led Wang Ming to where the prisoner was being held. In an open area, a water vat one meter long and half a meter high sat on the ground. Five Star Voyagers stood around it, occasionally gesturing with their bolters toward the contents.

Wang Ming approached, and as he drew within five meters, the pungent smell of alcohol hit his nostrils. He frowned and walked directly to the edge of the vat.

Inside lay a Plague Marine, reduced to a limbless trunk, wearing bone-conduction headphones and soaking in a vat of alcohol.

Wang Ming reached out, golden flames igniting in his palm, ready to annihilate the creature's soul. But as his hand neared, the Plague Marine began to convulse violently. The flesh fused with its power armor started to writhe rapidly, as if countless insects were churning beneath its skin.

Wang Ming recoiled instantly. The vat exploded, sending alcohol flying. The Plague Marine had transformed into a bloated, hideous monster, sprouting disgusting tentacles. It was clearly receiving a "blessing" from Nurgle right in front of them, ascending to daemonhood. Tentacles lashed out at Wang Ming.

"What the hell!" Wang Ming instinctively reached for his waist to draw his golden greatsword, but his hand met only his belt. After a nanosecond of thought, he ripped the belt off—a weapon was better than nothing, though his pants became quite loose.

The Star Voyagers opened fire, but their bolter rounds only splashed against the ascended monster, releasing clouds of putrid green pus.

Wang Ming charged, his belt wreathed in golden flames. He held up his pants with one hand and lashed out with the other. The Primarch’s immense strength made the belt crack like an explosion, severing several tentacles and cauterizing the stumps with golden fire to prevent regeneration.

*I really should have worn the power armor,* Wang Ming thought, clutching his trousers.

"ROAR!" The ascended monster, fueled by the agony of its burning soul, charged on its small, stubby legs with unnatural speed.

Wang Ming turned and sprinted toward his soldiers, trying to buckle his belt as he ran.

"That thing was blessed by Nurgle himself. You killed his Chosen, and this is his revenge," the Emperor’s voice echoed in Wang Ming's mind.

"What? Nurgle himself? How did he know I’d be here?" Wang Ming asked, accelerating as he glanced back at the bloated, Great Unclean One-like monstrosity.

"He calculated it. You’ve thoroughly enraged Him."

"So what do I do now?" Wang Ming demanded. He had no gear; how was he supposed to fight this?

"Lend me your body. I will deal with it." The Emperor seemed to have been waiting for this.

"Uh, Emperor, never mind. I just remembered I have a system. I'll just pull out some gear—no need for you to bother," Wang Ming said, turning back toward the monster with a power sword he’d just manifested. He’d rather face the monster himself than be possessed again.

"No. You *want* me to do it."

As Wang Ming charged, his eyelids grew heavy, and his consciousness began to blur.

"Emperor! You..." Wang Ming’s consciousness faded as he collapsed to the ground, cursing the Emperor in his mind for the ten-thousandth time.

"Why so much anger, young man? It’s just a loan," the "Wang Ming" who stood up said, brushing off the dust. He tossed the power sword aside; he didn't need such toys.

"Just a quick loan, you won't lose a piece of yourself." The entity walked toward the bloated monster, stripping off his clothes and pulling a bottle of wine from the system store, drinking deeply as he strolled forward. "Real physical form is so much more comfortable."

He stripped down to his underwear, tossed his clothes to the distant soldiers, and charged at the monster with a bottle in one hand, golden flames roaring across his skin.

"Holy..." Qin Ji started recording on his helmet cam. This was too good to miss. A Primarch in his boxers, holding a wine bottle, fighting a rot-filled green monstrosity.

"Wang Ming" fought like a wild animal, his flaming fists striking the monster with every blow causing golden explosions of fire that burned not just the flesh, but the soul. The agony made the monster shriek.

"Wang Ming" dodged a massive, bloated claw and countered with a thunderous slap that sent the five-meter-tall monster flying through the air, crashing directly into a nearby tent. Seconds later, the sound of gunfire erupted from within.

The soldiers in that tent had been preparing for a mission when the massive beast fell from the sky. After a moment of shock, they immediately engaged it.

"Wang Ming" chuckled and sprinted toward the tent, his speed so great that the surrounding soldiers couldn't even track his movement. Even Qin Ji’s helmet camera only caught a blur.

"Wang Ming" arrived at the tent in an instant, ready to finish the job.