Chapter 66: Daemon, I've Come to Bargain
Rotigus the Rainfather is the Great Unclean One who is closest to the concepts of "bountifulness," "generosity," "rain," "fecundity," and "nature" in the domain of Nurgle. Therefore, many tribal peoples in primitive societies worship him as a god who brings harvest, life, and rain. The barren land prays for bountifulness, the farmers pray for rain, the herdsmen pray for their livestock to bear more young, and the hungry pray for food. Rotigus listens to every plea. To those who are so desperate that they are willing to trade anything for life, he promises "salvation."
Plants and animals swell and twist with a strange fecundity, livestock give birth to deformed young, humans are afflicted with plagues, and a foul flood ebbs and flows endlessly, washing over the land. Wherever Rotigus goes, nauseating plants spread out around him in waves. The "Flood of Nurgle" surrounds him, a morbid storm that perpetually swirls around his body. Any enemy who tries to attack him or get close will be hindered by the storm, entangled by the plants, and dragged into the filthy flood to drown. Even if one is lucky enough to get close, they will find his body so corpulent, so massive, that a simple turn can crush an enemy. And to dodge is only a temporary reprieve. All over his massive body are randomly appearing, toothed orifices that vomit and spew infectious, purulent fluid. On his great belly of piled-up fat is an abyssal maw. If one gets close, the generous Rainfather will share his filth with them through this maw. You can enjoy it to your heart's content, without worrying about not having enough. Because matching his "generous" personality, Rotigus has a rich "source"—an ability to vomit an endless stream of filth: a foul soup of weakly alkaline plague water, half-digested carrion, and the most acidic bile of the realms, a fluid that can melt armor and cause city walls to rot and crumble.
With such a defense, Rotigus feels no need for a weapon. So what he holds in his hand is just a sprig of a boxwood tree.
After hearing all the intelligence on the Rainfather from the Inquisitor, Ventris joked, "Phew... should I be glad that most of his power is occupied? Otherwise, would I have been rolling in filth last time?"
Griffin was surprised that the Ultramarines Captain still had the heart to joke in the face of such a despairing daemon. He thought, Perhaps Regent Guilliman had anticipated such a situation, which is why he sent such an indomitable warrior, one who does not know the meaning of giving up.
"According to the intelligence I have from the Ordo Xenos," the Inquisitor jested, "after the T'au conquered the planet of Dal'yth, they encountered a great drought. The water facilities were paralyzed. To avoid starvation, these xenos had to convert to the local religion and start praying for rain. And then Rotigus descended and turned the desert planet into a sparkling septic tank."
"..."
"Do you have any ideas?" Griffin asked again.
"Honestly, no," Ventris replied with a bitter smile.
Griffin said nothing. He, an Imperial Inquisitor, a daemon hunter, had no good ideas, let alone Ventris, who had just learned of the Rainfather. He had told Ventris so much because, one, he had learned of Ventris's situation from the Grey Knights, and two, with the Regent's return, the opening of the Great Rift, the surge in the number of psykers, and the frequent appearance of daemons, simple suppression was no longer a solution. The Ordo Malleus had to change to fulfill its great responsibility of protecting the survival and purity of humanity.
"Innocence is not a virtue" might have worked in the past. Tens of thousands, millions, even a few planets could be sacrificed for the benefit of all humanity. But to continue in that way now would no longer make them the protectors of humanity, but the destroyers. Inquisitor Griffin and his like-minded companions were now experimenting with how to better protect humanity in this new era. To this end, Griffin and his companions had created a new order—the Ordo Sagittar, the Order of the Holy Arrow. The "holy arrow," as a weapon of humanity, should be longer-ranged and more precise than the "holy hammer."
The war on Teyedan between humanity and the Nurgle daemons was now a stalemate. Rotigus the Rainfather had blocked Ventris with his corpulent, rotten flesh. Veyl's nuclear button had blocked the Plague Prophet.
The Plague Prophet Viktor was now in the same boat as the Ultramarines Captain. He had no ideas either. After much thought, wringing every last drop of "pus" from his brain, he found that to fight was a dead end. The desperate Veyl would not mind causing him some trouble before he died. To not fight... the daemonic legions had besieged the Grand Manufactorum for so long. They couldn't just turn back. To surround them? He was already doing that...
So frustrating! Damn you, Zola! Why didn't you just die?! Useless! the Plague Prophet roared in his mind.
With no other choice, the Plague Prophet began to contact Rotigus the Rainfather with his psychic powers.
"Viktor, what is it that you have contacted me so suddenly for?" the Rainfather's voice echoed in the Plague Prophet's mind.
"Yes, my great brother, the most favored of the Allfather."
"Tell me. A trouble shared with family is a trouble halved, is it not? Hahaha."
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"Zola was captured. Our plan has been exposed..."
"..." Rotigus.
"If we attack, I fear the other side will destroy the temple. If we don't, we can only besiege them."
"..." Rotigus.
"I don't know what to do now. Do you have any good ideas, brother?"
"..." Rotigus.
"Brother? Brother? Are you still there?"
"..." Rotigus.
It seems "troubles" cannot be shared. Only "joy" can. The Greater Daemon had gone silent.
"Bro—"
CRACK!
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH..."
The Plague Prophet's body suddenly began to convulse, instantly losing control and crashing to the ground. Pain! A hundred times, a thousand times, ten thousand times more intense than the torment he had endured before his blessing...
Viktor was wailing, screaming. The pain of his torn vocal cords, the broken nose from his fall, the dislodged teeth—they were all insignificant compared to the torment he was now feeling. He felt every cell in his body screaming in agony, every part of his soul churning, boiling. But his mind was incredibly clear. He could remember his infancy, the first words he had heard after his birth—"Let's name our son Viktor!" This incredibly sensitive, incredibly clear consciousness seemed to have been deliberately inflicted upon him, just so he could savor the pain of this torment.
Viktor knew who was inflicting this on him. He convulsed on the ground and begged, "I was wrong! Spare me! Please, my brother! It was all Zola's fault! Aaaah! No, it was me! Aaaah! It was me, it was me! Spare me, spare... My brother, no, my master! Master! Rainfather, my master! I am your slave, master, spare me..."
There was no response, no end. Viktor's screams echoed through the Grand Manufactorum. The Nurglings, as always, laughed and danced around him. But this time, lying on the ground, seeing the Nurglings at eye level, he saw that their expressions, though the same as before, were now filled with a mocking, contemptuous laughter...
The daemons laughed at the convulsing, mutating Viktor, just as they had laughed when they had infected humans with the plague. The cultists and Chaos Space Marines who had once revered Viktor also laughed, but their laughter was tinged with fear, the fear that this torment would one day befall them.
Viktor was mutating. Churning boils appeared on his body, his limbs twisted into whip-like appendages, horns grew randomly from his head, and his abdomen swelled like a pregnant woman's. After expanding to its limit, it split open in the middle, becoming a giant maw with rotten teeth and a decaying tongue. Puss-filled eyes, diseased tongues, rotting noses, decaying mouths, and deformed ears began to grow randomly all over his body. "Tolerance" was never a characteristic of the Rainfather...
The Archmagos's performance could not go on. Not because his acting was not superb, but because the daemons had started to "slack off."
"What's going on now?" Omega asked, looking at the daemons who were just surrounding them, not attacking.
"Nothing unusual has been detected. Their attack just suddenly stopped," Veyl replied.
"The daemons must have known the plan was exposed. There's no point in acting anymore. I told you we couldn't hide it!" Omega said, still resentful about his second beating.
Veyl: You brat, I'll give you your third beating right now!
"Quick, bring up the nuclear bomb! Let the daemons see our resolve!" Omega added.
The situation was urgent. The Archmagos had no time to beat his son. He would put this beating on Omega's tab. He quickly had the nuclear bomb brought up and placed at the entrance to the hall. The daemons were unfazed by it; they couldn't be killed. The heretic traitors, however, were not so calm. They, unlike the daemons, could not be resurrected. They had to stay alive to continue to serve Nurgle.
Just as these heretics were beginning to have second thoughts, planning to find an excuse to run away and fight another day, Omega's voice came through the central hall's audio array: "Daemon, I've come to bargain!"
Let's rewind a bit.
"Urgent intelligence! The Archmagos's intentions have been exposed."
Inquisitor Griffin's voice rang out in the warp rift command post. His words also stopped the Ultramarines Captain and the Covenant of Fire Chaplain, who were trying to dissuade the Knights of Iron Chapter Master, Isaac.
They were trying to dissuade Isaac because the Chapter Master intended to concentrate all of their Astraeus super-heavy tanks and use their defensive power to force a breakthrough of Rotigus the Rainfather's defenses. But the last attempt had already proven that the "Flood of Nurgle's" filthy rain could not only corrode the vehicles' armor, but the Nurgle's malevolent power it contained could also corrupt the Machine Spirit, causing the vehicle's driving system and detection augur-arrays to malfunction.
According to Ventris's experience in the Plague War, the closer one got to a Greater Daemon, the heavier the corruption of Nurgle's malevolent power. Steel would turn to flesh, weapons would grow fangs and claws, and the people inside would either merge with the vehicle or be torn to pieces by the newly-sentient weapons. So, the method of using vehicles had already been proven ineffective. But the Knights of Iron, who had always crushed the enemies of the Emperor with their powerful firepower, did not think so.
Isaac said, "Ventris. Your vehicles were not fast enough, not ruthless enough. But don't worry. Leave it to me this time. We will not fail again. I will banish the Greater Daemon!"
Ventris was not one to be easily persuaded. Seeing Isaac's recklessness, he directly objected. Chaplain Colin also couldn't stand it and had to side with the Ultramarine he disliked, the two of them trying to dissuade Isaac together.
Seeing that there was a situation at the Archmagos's end, Ventris immediately asked, "Is there any unusual movement from the daemons?"
"They have now ceased their siege of the Archmagos and his men."
"Good. It seems the Archmagos's intelligence was accurate. The daemons' goal is to obtain an intact Grand Manufactorum!"
Ventris felt that a turning point had arrived. With the daemons' goal clear, he could use it as a pivot to change the current battle situation.
Just then, Inquisitor Griffin said, "The Archmagos's message says he has a plan, but he is not clear on our situation here, so he needs to ask for our opinion."
"Oh? What plan?"
"The Archmagos asks if we have the confidence to banish the Greater Daemon?"
"..."
"The Archmagos says that if we do not, he intends to negotiate with the daemons, using the Grand Manufactorum as a wager, to have a duel with the Greater Daemon! The winner gets this world, the loser leaves!"