Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 871 Victor: No, is that right?

"Did you do that? Let these Chaos Demons and traitors into Comoros?"

"Since we can't break the deadlock, let's make it worse! Brilliant!"

As a master strategist, Ryan Johnson always maintained a dynamic grasp of the overall situation, and no slightest movement on the battlefield could escape the eyes of the lion.

The sudden emergence of two unfamiliar forces on an already chaotic battlefield naturally necessitates high vigilance.

Naturally, Ryan believed that this was the work of Chagatai Khan. Since the plague could not be stopped, he would amplify its power, drag more forces into the fray, and make the situation even more chaotic so that no one could profit from it.

Chogoris Warhawk was immediately embarrassed. Although he wanted to admit that it was indeed his work, his pride rejected any attempt to fake it.

"It's not me."

"It was the Dark Eldar who shot themselves in the foot. The Heart of Plague not only attracted us, but also other beings who were interested in it."

"Nurgle's army and the Death Guard have joined the battle; they too have come for the Heart of the Plague."

Chagatai Khan's White Tiger Blade swept across the battlefield, shredding all the Dark Spirits and bio-engineered monsters into dust.

Although the shredded monsters continued to writhe under the influence of the Heart of Plague, seemingly with the possibility of being pieced back together, it would take quite some time.

White scars followed the sweater's footsteps, forming a tight and complete formation.

The Space Marines relinquished the main battlefield and occupied a position closer to the Heart of the Plague, temporarily maintaining a defensive and observational stance.

The mighty space wolves charged ahead, tearing apart enemies in their path with their claws and fangs, creating space for their comrades behind them to fight.

The dark angels worked closely with the wolves, and high-energy weapons constantly roared over the wolves' heads, blasting away any fools that stood in their way.

Meanwhile, the White Scars, piloting the Dark Eldar vehicles, sped through the air, clearing away enemies for the Space Marines.

"Since this great show involves more than just us actors, let's give the new actors some time to perform."

Ryan Johnson's tone was utterly calm, yet his two brothers could hear the Lion King's boundless rage toward the traitor in his voice.

Despite his anger, Ryan always manages to make the wisest choices in war.

These Chaos Legions belonging to Nurgle, as well as the Death Guard who have defected to the Warp, are potential targets; they are also mortal enemies of the Eldar.

It's not just the Dark Eldar and the Emperor's Sons who plan to sit back and watch the tigers fight, waiting for everyone to be bloodied and bruised before coming out to reap the benefits. Right now, no one has the power to completely overwhelm their opponent, so naturally, everyone hopes that their opponent can continue to be weakened.

The Space Marines were inherently more adept at positional warfare than the Dark Eldar. Once the Astartes occupied a territory, they quickly fortified their positions into an impenetrable fortress.

The Dark Eldar, a race skilled in high-speed guerrilla warfare and rapid raids, quickly found themselves battered and bruised on the human defenses.

Before they could catch their breath, the menacing Death Guards and Nurgle's army had already charged in.

Of all the Chaos Gods, Nurgle is perhaps the most "honest" and "straightforward" of them all.

This also affected His demonic army. The Great Unclean One, Krugas, with heavy steps, was frantically advancing towards the Heart of Plague, surrounded by numerous Nurgle spirits and Nurgle demons.

It naturally saw the Primarchs such as Llane, Chagatai, and Ruth, but Nurgle's mission was to have it reclaim the Heart of Plague, and the obedient Kugas, who was completely subservient to his father, naturally obeyed its orders.

Of course, this has absolutely nothing to do with Kugas's lack of confidence.

It was the most beloved child of the Father. Even when it was still a Nurgle, Korgath rolled off the Father's body into the Plague Cauldron and drank up the most powerful plague poison ever created by Nurgle, the Father did not blame it.

It did not consider the Primarch to be its opponent, after all, the Primarch was also a living being, and living beings would fall to plague and disease.

Even more anxious than Kugas was Typhon, whose mind was filled with the idea of ​​redeeming himself through meritorious service.

The Death Guard platoon leader wielded a massive chainsaw axe, followed by a large group of Chaos Space Marines clad in heavy armor, their bodies oozing a bloody green pus and covered in green moss and fungal growths.

A long, sharp horn sprouted from Typhon's forehead, piercing through his tactical helmet and flying high. His abdomen swelled up like that of a woman about to give birth, from which foul-smelling bubbles continuously spewed out.

The other Death Guards fared even worse; their bellies had simply swelled to the point of bursting, their writhing intestines flying out, some even being trampled underfoot. The Death Guards casually tossed their intestines onto their shoulders to avoid getting in the way.

The battlefield shrouded in the heart of plague began to rapidly sprout decaying green vegetation after the arrival of the Death Guard. It emerged directly from the corpses of the dead on the battlefield, blooming even more vividly.

Countless plague flies flew out from the numerous honeycomb-like voids that cracked open behind Typhons. When they gathered together, they resembled a visible yellow storm, knocking down all the dark elves in their path.

Even though the Dark Eldar are indeed very agile and fast, speed becomes meaningless when the battlefield is filled with swarms of black flies.

Although the Dark Eldar's metal armor was covered with vicious barbs, it was still no better than a piece of paper under the bites of the demon flies. When these Typhons' minions burrowed into their bodies, even the Dark Eldar, who were fond of torture, felt unbearable pain emanating from within.

Their bodies were rotting and decaying, and their immune systems were starting to generate high temperatures to kill the germs, but none of this had any effect on the power of Nurgle.

One by one, the Dark Eldar fell on the battlefield due to illness. They did not die, but lingered between death and life, enduring endless pain and torment.

The despair and the desire to survive that arose within them, in turn, amplified the power of Nurgle's army.

Kugas strode forward with heavy steps, steadily making his way toward the heart of the plague.

It didn't have any special weapons; it only held a wooden stick in its hand, used to stir the crucible and create the plague poison.

Yet this simple wooden stick carries a suffocating stench and destructive power.

Kugas swung his wooden club and instantly blasted a twisted abomination, which had been enhanced by the Heart of Plague to the size of a small mountain, into a bloody pulp.

Foul-smelling pus, writhing entrails, and proliferating bone spurs sprayed out like a waterfall. However, the cleaved remains of the abomination did not cease their activity. Instead, stimulated by the green light of the Heart of Plague, they writhed wildly, spewing out more tentacles and bone spurs from the severed ends, attempting to entangle Kugas.

This was the first time the Great Impure One had encountered such a situation.

In past wars with other chaotic evil gods and demons, even Khorne's bloodthirsty madman would at most use his battle axe to fight the Great Unclean One.

Even the most bloodthirsty monsters lack the courage to engage in close combat with the most unclean.

After all, the foul-smelling pus, filthy excrement, and highly toxic plague flowing from Kugas's body were no joke. Even if they couldn't kill the other Chaos Demons, they could make them so disgusted that they could no longer exist.

Kugas felt his body being locked and entangled by the bio-monster in front of him, but it chuckled憨厚ly and then its body melted away like pus.

The Blood Spirit's creation missed its target, and Kugas, after solidifying again, swallowed it whole.

It is assimilating the other, turning it into a part of itself.

The Death Guards marched with heavy but determined steps, completely ignoring the tearing claws of the bio-monsters and the spray of corrosive liquid.

The Death Guard, already adept at attrition warfare against heavy infantry, became even more troublesome after joining forces with Nurgle.

Their armor may look tattered and decayed, but it is actually incredibly strong in terms of defense, and it can regenerate and recover quickly even if it is damaged.

Some witch spirits and nightmares still habitually use the same methods they use against Imperial Space Marines to deal with these Death Guards.

But when their weapons struck their opponents, they were stuck together and imprisoned by the rotting flesh of the Death Guards as if they had been thrown into the sea, and only then did these Dark Eldar realize the difference in their enemies.

The Death Guard, wielding a bomb gun and a giant scythe, inflicts deep, poisonous wounds on the Dark Eldar with every attack.

A Death Guard was impaled in the abdomen by a tentacle of a Chronos Parasite Engine, but he only let out a muffled groan, then used his chainsaw axe to saw the tentacle off at the root, and then chopped off the head of the Chronos Parasite.

Countless Nurgles flowed like a green tide, mingling with the Bloodlings' creations, tearing and gnawing at each other.

There were no shouts of battle, only chilling laughter; these Nurgles seemed to revel in fighting their enemies, who exuded a benign, plague-like aura.

The center of the battlefield quickly transformed into a writhing, rotting, and foul-smelling green hell.

The roars of monsters, the whispers of Nurgle demons, the booming of bombs, and the splattering of slime intertwined into a blasphemous symphony.

On the edge of the battlefield, Victor was beginning to lose his mind due to anxiety.

Even his deepest, most unfathomable heart began to ripple with restlessness.

This shouldn't be happening. How the hell did it turn out like this?
"Why didn't the other conspiracies stop the Nurgle army? These damned bastards are fighting a damn war of attrition with our bio-weapon legion!"

"Our main force is tied up with them, who will fight the other Primarchs?"

Victor watched with immense rage as this fierce, bloody, nauseating... but extremely inefficient war raged on.

Both sides possess near-immortal regeneration abilities and immense vitality, meaning their attacks often cause only temporary damage rather than complete annihilation.

The battle turned into a pure war of attrition, like two huge pools of rotting silt constantly devouring each other, keeping a large number of troops from both sides firmly tied down in this area.

This is undoubtedly the enemy that the Dark Eldar hates to encounter the most: the Nurgle army, which is tenacious in its vitality, relatively slow in its speed, and has no fatal weaknesses, leaving the Dark Eldar, who emphasize rapid harassment and attacking vital points, completely helpless.

Their incredibly powerful weapons could dismember the Nurgle army or the Death Guard a dozen times over, yet these guys could still get up from the ground again and spit out a mouthful of saliva full of viruses and bacteria.

In a corner of the battlefield, Chagatai Khan suddenly felt a cold sweat break out on his back. Seeing the excrement in the latrines of the Death Guards again made him hallucinate that he had returned to the Terra battlefield a century ago.

How similar it is to the scene of him fighting a bloody battle in front of the palace with white scars on his face.

"I wonder what Mortalian's reaction would be if she saw these offspring now," Chagatai Khan said with a wicked grin.

"Now we should thank these Nurgle armies for being so troublesome; at least they have drawn most of the Dark Eldar's forces and attention."

"Ryan, should we continue the assault and push into the deepest part of the Bloodling experimental base?"

The Lion King of Caliban smiled, seemingly unconcerned about the situation before him.

"Don't rush, my brother. There are still forces that haven't been defeated yet. If we attack now, it will only allow others to take advantage."

“Those damned brats of Fulgrim are moving stealthily. They think they're hiding well, but they've already been exposed.”

"If we don't let these enemies wear each other down, even if we reach the Heart of Plague, how can we take it away?"

Chagatai Khan thought about it carefully and immediately realized the problem.

Yes, this war is not a race; whoever breaks through the Bloodlust's defenses and reaches the Heart of Plague first will be victorious.

Even I myself cannot control the Heart of Plague now, nor can I take it away.

"Being patient is the best option right now."

……

Humans can remain calm and observe the changing tides of battle, but Victor doesn't have that luxury.

He assured the Blood Performers that he could help the Blood Performers Association eliminate all the invaders.

But now, things haven't gotten any better than he said; instead, they've fallen into an even worse abyss.

Victor received a rebuke and questioning from the Bloodcraft Master. "If you allow those enemies to breach our experimental base, the Black Heart Conspiracy will be wiped out of Comoros from this day forward."

“You know our methods, Victor. Don’t let us down.”

"Our patience and kindness have their limits."

The governor was furious. These damned Bloodlings were weak and powerless against the invaders, but they were ruthless against their own people, the Dark Eldar.

If you're so capable, go fight the war yourself, stop whining here!

"If we can't get through this crisis, not only will the Black Heart Conspiracy Group be in trouble, but even the Blood Spirit Association and Comoros might not be able to survive."

"If we can escape in our homeships like those lowly Adas of the Ark Eldar, we'll be lucky to have the Pantheon's blessing."

"Hurry up, hurry up! I'll let you hurry me!"

Despite his inner rage, Victor still had to maintain a submissive and humble attitude towards the Bloodlust.

“We are all in the same boat, Ida. We have no other choice.”

"I'll handle everything."

The governor smashed the communicator in anger, then unleashed his fury on his subordinates in a fit of rage.

"My plan! My Comoros!"

However, Victor was, after all, a ruthless and powerful figure. After a brief loss of reason and being controlled by rage, he only took a few breaths to recover.

His face regained its sinister, ambiguous expression, completely masking his earlier rage and loss of composure.

"Continue organizing the defenses, and use the annihilation weapons to wipe out all those Nurgle armies."

"Even if doing so will cause this area to completely collapse and be destroyed, we have no other choice."

“We should redeploy our own men. My men are invaluable and shouldn’t be wasted like this. If they’re going to die, they should die with purpose.”

"At the same time, in the name of the Blood Actors, send out distress signals to those damned conspiracies, promising them a price they can't refuse, since we won't be footing the bill in the end!"

Victor, like the calmest mind, issued orders to his subordinates, striving to maintain stability in the situation.

Of course, Victor would not be willing to die alongside the Bloodlust.

He ordered his most loyal subordinates to lead the key members of his ruthless conspiracy to retreat first, and to be ready to flee from Comoros at any time.

The saying "Where there's life, there's hope" has long been ingrained in Victor's bones.

"Contact Drazar, contact Candice of the Witchcraft Cult, and have them drag those Primarchs who are sitting on the sidelines watching the fight into the fray."

"Their threat is even greater than that of the Nurgle army. I'm sure those cunning and ruthless Primarchs will destroy all forces on the battlefield once the time is right."

“I know about Ryan Johnson’s infamous reputation. He’s their Emperor’s best cleaner and destroyer. Damn it, why don’t we have such a powerful leader?”

Victor cursed inwardly. As an arrogant Dark Eldar, their Pantheon had long been destroyed, to the point that they could not even find an entity comparable to the Primarch.

The Phoenix Lords? Whether they can contend with the Primarchs remains a big question mark.

However, just as Victor was in a state of panic, even worse news followed.

On the flank of this battlefield, a dozen or so purplish-gold phantoms appeared silently.

They are the sons of the emperor, a traitorous legion that has fallen into chaos but still retains its original name.

The emperor's sons have all fallen into the arms of Slaanesh, and like their gods, they are dominated by endless indulgence and pleasure.

For the sons of emperors today, the act of calling themselves "sons of emperors" brings a strong sense of immorality and shame, thus revitalizing their gradually numbed hearts.

This is a mockery and humiliation of the emperor; their very existence is irrefutable proof of the emperor's defeat.

These sons of the emperor are far fewer in number than the Death Guards who are fighting on the battlefield. The Third Legion is one of the smallest legions to begin with, and their gene seeds have natural genetic diseases, making it extremely difficult to expand their military strength.

This remained true even after they joined Slaanesh.

The emperor's son was led by Lucius, the former commander of the 13th Company of the Third Army.

Long ago, this champion, the son of the emperor who fell into chaos, was killed by Nicol Sharokin, the guardian of the Dark Raven, on a primordial planet called Pandora. At the moment of his death, his essence was annihilated by the Soulless Field of the Silent Sisters.

However, Lucius is special. He is imbued with the heavy blessing of Sinister. Any pleasure, pride, or other extreme emotions that arise from killing his enemies will become the medium for Lucius's resurrection and possession.

Sharokin killed Lucius, but he felt no pleasure or pride, which should have resulted in Lucius's complete death, making him impossible to resurrect.

Fortunately, the Prince of Pleasure had not yet grown tired of Lucius, and he made an exception and brought the dead Lucius back to life.

Of course, Slaanesh's resurrection did not come without a price. Lucius was more arrogant, perverted, and indulgent than before his death, and his dependence on addictive drugs was even more severe.

On his back was a potion jar personally crafted by Fabius Bayer. Even a single drop of the potion inside would be enough to make a normal mortal die of pleasure, his body exploding in agony.

His once incomparably handsome face is now covered with twisted scars and writhing buds, making him look as terrifying and hideous as a walking demon.

Lucius was dressed in a garish, nauseatingly ornate purple-gold power armor, inlaid with blurry, agonizing faces—the faces of his former adversaries who had killed him but were now possessed by him.

The emperor's son's face was radiant with a twisted smile that was a mixture of extreme excitement and morbid pleasure, and the greatsword in his hand, which shimmered with an eerie purple light, was trembling slightly.

"The time has come, let's prepare to eat."

Lucius's voice was like the hiss of a viper, carrying a chilling excitement.

He elegantly executed a deadly sword flourish, while simultaneously whipping his flesh-and-blood whip with a deafening whooshing sound.

"Hey hey hey hey!"

The emperor's sons behind him, already twisted and deformed and indulging in sensory stimulation, immediately vanished from their spot.

Like released hounds, they charged straight at the Dark Eldar, who were struggling to cope with the Nurgle army and the Primarchs.

They could already smell the fragrance emanating from the black bean sprouts, an exquisite aroma that no emperor's son could resist.

The delicious flesh and sweet souls of the Adarin are far more to their liking than those of humans. After all, most humans in the galaxy live a life of hardship, and naturally, their souls and flesh are also suffering.

What's even more remarkable is that the sins entangled in these dark spirits, due to their indulgence in pleasure and unrestrained behavior, add a special flavoring to this feast, elevating it to another level.

If the greatest pleasure from eating white bean sprouts is the joy of defiling those seemingly pure and untouched beings, then eating black bean sprouts is purely the stimulation of mixing together all sorts of extremely strong-flavored foods.

Once you get used to the former, the latter is naturally incredibly enjoyable.

Lucius himself transformed into a purple-gold whirlwind of destruction, his movements so fast they exceeded the limits of Eldar dynamic vision, as he lunged directly at a Nightmare Warrior stationed there.

Lucius brandished his flawless blade, making no attempt to conceal his presence, but instead appearing openly before Nightmare.

The Nightmare Warrior was so terrified by the intense Slaanesh aura emanating from Lucius that his mind collapsed, and all his previous fighting and training crumbled instantly.

However, Lucius merely licked his long tongue at him before heading straight for the other Dark Eldar around him.

He precisely severed the tendons in the limbs of a ruthless conspirator, then lightly grazed his cheek with the tip of his sword, enjoying the contorted expression of pain and fear before finally piercing his throat, suffocating him in terror.

Lucius opened his mouth wide and swallowed the black bean sprout whole, chewing and savoring it carefully.

The chilling sounds of chewing and swallowing, mixed with the desperate screams of the black bean sprout, echoed all around.

"Hehehehe... Lucius is here!" the Slaanesh champion announced.

A Scourge soldier attempting to launch a counterattack pulled the trigger, but Lucius dodged it with ghostly agility.

Then Lucius emerged from behind the calamity, caressed its slender waist like a lover, and instantly cut it in half at the waist.

Lucius inhaled with ecstasy the warm steam rising from the severed wound and the slightly viscous spinal fluid, and began to eat greedily again.

The nightmare who was initially terrified and tried to escape into the shadows was instead captured by Lucius, who appeared at its destination as if he had foreseen it. Lucius used a long, barbed whip of flesh and blood to bind the nightmare tightly, and then sucked the flesh dry by Lucius.

"Perfect, truly a perfect treasure."

"There's so much sweet and delicious food! I'm going to eat my fill here!"

The other sons of the emperor were no less formidable; the Slaanesh aura emanating from them was enough to render the Dark Eldar largely powerless against them.

These freakish warriors tore off Eldar limbs alive and stuffed them into their mutated chewing organs to devour them.

They reveled in the agonizing screams of the Dark Eldar as they lay dying, and the twisted pleasure of their souls being seized by the Slaanesh.

The Noise Warrior, carrying a massive sonic cannon, unleashed a frenzied nightmare sonic wave, blasting more than a dozen Dark Elf race members into a cloud of blood mist.

Then, these frenzied noise warriors, carrying their sonic cannons, ran directly into the blood mist. They removed their armor, allowing every pore to blend perfectly with the blood mist.

Led by Lucius, the mere hundred or so sons of the emperor quickly broke through the defenses set up by Victor from the flank and plunged into the heart of the Bloodling experimental base.

"Stop them, damn it! Stop those lunatic sons of emperors!"

Viktor watched from the command center, his eyes bloodshot with rage. His precious Blackheart Warriors were being slaughtered like grass by those corrupt Space Marines, who would then devour them like dessert.

He had just mobilized his forces to stop the Nurgle army, and now he had been stabbed in the back.

However, both the Witch Spirit Cult and the Nightmare Order tacitly chose to turn a deaf ear to Victor's orders.

They would rather wrestle with Nurgle's army and the Death Guard in the muddy plague swamps than face those deadly sons of the Emperor.

Left with no other option, Victor had to deploy the bio-weapons of the Bloodlings to confront the Emperor's Son.

In comparison, these bio-weapons, which have little command and are completely obedient to orders, are at least not so easily frightened into surrendering when dealing with the Son of the Emperor.

When Lucius led the Emperor's Son into the Bloodlust's experimental base, Ryan, who had been holding back for a long time, finally reached that crucial moment.

In the Lion King's eyes, a chilling killing intent spread as if it were a tangible force.

The Emperor's sons, this legion of traitors who escaped the Empire's judgment and revenge, today is their death day.

He wants to kill the Dark Eldar, he wants to kill the traitors to the Emperor's son, he wants to slaughter until the entire Comoros is empty, turning this important network node city belonging to the Eldar into an important enclave for humanity's future.

(End of this chapter)