Meanwhile, the battle outside the fortress was a boiling inferno.
The foul air was saturated and torn by the sharp screams of Bolters, the death roars of Chainsword, the destructive roar of heavy weapons, and the endless, slimy wails of Nurgle's minions.
The warriors of the Ash Knights Fifth Company were not static targets.
They formed a flexible and deadly network of fire, utilizing the reeking wrecks of drop pods, the rock ridges melted by orbital strikes, and any twisted terrain that offered momentary cover.
The precise bursts of Bolter fire were like the scythe of death, specifically targeting the swollen heads of Nurgle gunners peeking out from behind pustule turrets, or the unusually agile, roaring, and commanding low-level corruption nodes within the hordes of shambling corpses attempting to strike Imperial armor with rusty farm tools.
Every accurate three-round burst could blast a pus-oozing mutated head into splattering putrid slag.
However, Nurgle's blasphemous firepower was equally deadly.
Plague barrages and corrosive acids streamed like poisonous rain from turrets made of twisted cover and writhing tumors.
Viscous shells filled with virulent spores exploded near the Imperial lines, raising foul yellow-green clouds, and even with the Power Armor's respiratory grilles filtering at full capacity, the invisible whispers of disease still tried to penetrate the warriors' bone marrow.
Even deadlier were the high-pressure jets of strong acidic pus, which instantly ate deep pits into scorched rock and hissed audibly when splashed onto adamantium shoulder plates, raising toxic fumes and testing the extreme endurance of ceramite.
Under the cover of this destructive interwoven firepower, the First Company Terminator Assault Squad led by Kasim, "The Anvil," charged desperately towards the energy node tower on the fortress flank, which pulsed with foul green light and soared into the murky clouds – the blasphemous core of the planetary shield generator, like the Empire's sharpest living battering ram.
Their objective was clear and deadly: destroy the shield and clear the way for the Primarch's final judgment.
The heavy magnetic boots of the Terminators crushed the defiled ground, pushing forward through dense blasphemous fire, their steps as firm as moving mountains.
Storm Bolters roared in their hands, their short, deadly bursts tearing apart waves of oncoming shambling corpses into a splattering mess of foul flesh and mud, while bursting, putrid blood and pus splattered like paint onto the gleaming Terminator armor, instantly cooling and solidifying into blasphemous graffiti.
However, the true threat was not these cannon fodder, but the Rotting Claw renegades mixed deep within the corpse tide, clad in thick plague plate armor and exuding the hateful remnants of former Astartes.
A Fallen suddenly leaped out from behind a pockmarked, acid-corroded cover, its rusty, strong acid-dripping plague Chainsword emitting an ear-splitting shriek, and an indistinct roar spewed from its helmet-fused maw, lunging directly at a Terminator on the flank.
The Terminator warrior's reaction was like a cold combat machine, steadily sidestepping, his massive Power Gauntlet enveloped in a ghostly blue disintegration field, tearing through the foul air to meet the attack.
"Clang—crunch!"
The ear-splitting, teeth-grinding clang of adamantium was instantly drowned out by the dull thud of shattering bones!
The Power Gauntlet struck with pinpoint accuracy at the weakest transmission joint of the Fallen's Chainsword weapon, and the combination of the furious disintegration field and pure physical force instantly smashed the blasphemous weapon into twisted deformation, along with the Fallen's swollen and deformed arm bone, pulverizing them into dust!
Foul pus and severed tendons gushed out from the deformed plague plate armor's seams like a burst abscess.
The Fallen let out a shriek of pain and fury, its inhuman will driving it to smash its remaining, monstrous arm, which had mutated into a massive bone hammer at its end, heavily against the Terminator's chest plate.
"Thud!" The Terminator took the heavy blow head-on, its thick adamantium chest plate groaning dully, and its internal servo systems hummed at high speed to counteract the impact.
Almost in the same millisecond, the black muzzle of the Storm Bolter in his other hand was practically pressed against the Fallen's twisted helmet, covered in murky compound eyes, and fired violently!
"Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!"
The close-range Bolter volley, like miniature bombs detonated at close range, utterly blasted the blasphemous head along with part of the shoulder plate into splattering rotten flesh, shattered bone fragments, broken armor plates, and rusted metal debris.
On the other side, the situation was even more perilous, as a Terminator warrior was targeted by two cunning renegades.
One, wielding a massive, slime- and rust-covered plague Power Claw, struck his ribs from the side with a foul stench; the other emerged from behind a mound of writhing maggots and putrid flesh, revealing a disgusting pustule sprayer, with yellow-green, deadly acid churning at its nozzle.
The Terminator warrior's tactical awareness was ingrained in his bones; he instantly activated his shoulder-mounted energy shield generator, and the ghostly blue shield absorbed the full force of the Power Claw's blow, energy flickering violently and emitting an overloaded hum.
At the same time, the heavy flamethrower integrated into his shoulder plate roared, spewing a scorching torrent of promethium, like an angry fire dragon, precisely engulfing the Fallen attempting to spray acid.
"Hiss—Aargh!!!"
The blasphemous body burned, twisted, and swelled violently in the Emperor's purifying fire, emitting inhuman, sharp screams, finally becoming a charred, twitching remnant that fell completely still, emitting a foul stench of burnt protein mixed with the sickly sweet smell of disease.
The Fallen wielding the Power Claw was forced back by the raging torrent of flames, its movements momentarily delayed, and this fatal opening was immediately seized by another Terminator.
A heat-melt beam, so scorching it distorted vision, pierced precisely through the large, pulsating pustule on its back from the side-rear, like a spear of divine wrath.
"Boom—Splat!"
A violent internal explosion tore the Fallen apart from the inside out, spewing foul pus, shattered organs, and burning putrid flesh like fireworks.
Kasim himself was a mobile Imperial fortress.
Every swing of his Power Gauntlet carried pure force capable of crushing mountains, and the ghostly blue disintegration field hummed.
Facing a thick internal gate made of massive corrupted bones and writhing metal, he did not hesitate, delivering several heavy, battering ram-like blows that forcibly smashed it inwards!
Splintered bone fragments, pus-oozing metal shards, and Nurgle's minions caught off guard behind the door all flew outwards.
Inside the passage, a dense barrage of corrosive pus projectiles came rushing like a deluge.
"Suppressive fire! Melta! Clear the way!" Kasim's low growl was like a cold command in the comms channel.
His Storm Bolter roared, its precise bursts silencing several pustule sprayers.
The Terminator warrior wielding the melta weapon immediately stepped forward, his heavy melta gun as steady as a rock with his armor's support, and its muzzle gathered an unbearable, scorching light.
The next instant, a dazzlingly hot, almost pure white beam, like divine punishment, instantly tore through the air, vaporizing the obstacle ahead—composed of viscous fungal growth, overgrown tumors, and piled blasphemous remains—along with several stubborn Nurgle warriors behind it, who were raising their rusty weapons!
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