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

Chapter 943 The Death of Galad

Manipulating fear is the instinct of Tzeentch, these warp creatures born from countless complex conspiracies, schemes, and plots. They can see the fear deep within the soul of every being and amplify it continuously.

Marcus's will had been tempered by decades of war and was already incredibly strong. Even the Demon Lord of Myriad Changes had to search carefully for a while before he could uncover the deep-seated fear.

Marcus was not afraid of death. During his time serving as a Dark Angel, he had witnessed too many deaths: those of mortals and those of imperial angels.

Some people die in mediocrity, some die in nobility, and Marcus hoped that his death would be closer to the latter.

What he feared was that his own sacrifice, and that of countless others who died for humanity, would be rendered useless and completely wasted.

In the illusion created by the ever-changing demon lord for Marcus, the steadfast commissar witnessed the Lion's defensive lines being destroyed one by one by the surging waves of the chaotic demon army.

The Dark Angels Legion was nearly wiped out, and the Iron Hand and Space Wolves also suffered heavy losses.

The powerful battle white dwarf and battle planets were shattered under an even more devastating attack.

The wrath of the Chaos Gods, carrying the remnants of these incredibly massive celestial bodies, slammed directly onto the planet Cadia, utterly shattering the rivet nailed to the edge of the Eye of Terror with irresistible force.

Neither the Emperor nor Lothie could stop the expansion of the Eye of Terror. The spreading rift split the galaxy in two, plunging the Empire into civil war once again.

Marcus roared incessantly, repeatedly leaving dagger wounds on his body, using the pain to tell himself that everything was an illusion.

However, faced with the illusion meticulously crafted by the ever-changing Demon Lord, even the political commissar, with his strong willpower, could not break free and could only drift along and experience everything.

He was like an observer detached from the story, watching helplessly as this war, initiated by humanity and originally intended to completely close the eye of fear and end human suffering, slowly spiraled out of control, even evolving into a terrible disaster in which the chaotic gods joined forces to push back against the real universe.

He saw that the human network was corrupted by chaos, and the network tunnel boring machine was completely out of control due to Rosie's disappearance, even becoming a minion of chaos.

All the hope that had been born was once again extinguished like a candle flame, vanishing irretrievably.

Marcus gradually became numb, watching humanity retreat time and time again until Holy Terra fell. The Emperor led the remaining loyalists to retreat to Macragge, establishing the Second Human Empire based in Six Hundred, the homeworld of the Ultramarines.

The whispers of the ever-changing Demon Lord still echoed in my ears:

"Give up, it's all in vain."

"Chaos has destroyed many universes, and yours is no exception."

"Submit to me, open the barriers of your heart, and you can play a lament for your race."

"Come on, come on, put down that so-called loyalty. It's so fake, yet it makes you so obsessed and fixated on it..."

Marcus gradually succumbed to despair, his face becoming increasingly blank, his mouth beginning to move unconsciously, as if he were about to utter the word "willing."

But the next moment, he saw the faded banner of the Imperial Aquila still fluttering, he saw humanity still rising up in resistance in Altramor, he saw the Emperor still fighting for humanity's future and freedom.

Marcus recalled the oath he took when he enlisted: he would give everything for the continuation and future of humanity.

The fear did not disappear, but something more powerful welled up from the depths of his weathered soul—a human courage called indomitable courage.

"For the Emperor!!!"

Marcus let out a roar like a wounded lion.

He raised the insignificant plasma pistol at his waist, turned the power to maximum, and a thin, dark blue plasma beam shot towards the mocking compound eyes of the Myriad Transformations Demon Lord.

The Myriad Transformations Demon Lord lowered his eyelids; the attack hadn't even scratched the Great Demon's skin.

The Great Demon Tzeentch seemed to be enraged by the ant's provocation. He raised his staff, ready to annihilate the tiny soul.

However, at that very moment, Marcus's courage became the first spark to ignite the flames of retaliation.

"For the Lion! For Caliban!"

Galadriel's thunderous voice echoed within the warship as the Primal Dark Angels finally arrived on the battlefield.

The dark angels, in small squads, precisely and efficiently attacked the warp demons wreaking havoc inside the ship's cabin. The roar of the bomb guns and the clang of the chainsaw swords quickly overwhelmed the demons' screams.

Galad's Infinite Engine activated instantly, and in this special environment where the power of the warp surged, the power of the original Space Marines' mutant abilities also increased.

He tore through the space in front of him, his body leaving the original dimensional space, and teleported behind the Tzeentch Demon.

Caught off guard, the Demon Lord of Myriad Changes was quickly decapitated by Galad, who swiftly swung his power sword, unleashing a frenzied roar as he disintegrated the force field, and cleanly severed its head.

When the Great Demon's head hit the ground, it didn't even have time to react. Galad's sword was too fast and too sharp, and the Son of Lion completed a stunning kill.

Even veterans of the Dark Angels' inner circle, when facing enemies at the Great Demon level, would likely achieve victory only after paying a heavy price and suffering a Pyrrhic victory.

However, this undead being was blinded by the slaughter of mortals. It was still caught up in Marcus's unyielding anger and did not even focus its full attention on fighting the dark angel who was attacking with all its might.

Its massive head landed on the deck, striking the metal with a dull thud. Its sharp beak even seemed to be chanting a vicious curse, trying to drag Galad down to hell with it before it died.

However, the Dark Angel veteran was already used to all sorts of tricks to drag others down with him before he died. He simply pulled out his personal plasma pistol from his waist and fired three shots, turning the bird's head into a bloody mess.

The scorching air, carrying the stench of blood, stained the Dark Angel's power armor with a crimson hue.

"Keep the squad in formation, don't break up," Galad's voice came through the communication channel.

The dark angels, in small groups, formed annihilation squads and quickly swept away the demons that had entered the ship's cabin.

At the same time, the sensors in the eyes of the warship's previously silent, waiting war-type iron men instantly lit up with a cold red light.

They arrived at the demon-ravaged battlefield through a special passage.

These powerful weapons of war were not affected by the supernatural terror before them, because the commanding Iron Man who controlled them formed a Gestalt mindset with the main control AI under the protection of the Black Stone anti-spiritual energy field.

Before the controlling AI was compromised, they possessed an extremely strong resistance to corruption in the subspace.

A squad of Iron Men appeared beside the Dark Angel, and they precisely used their laser cannons to fire at several Fear Demons that were trying to pounce on Marcus, instantly vaporizing them on the spot.

Another shapeshifting demon was still mocking his companion who had been killed by Galad. For Tzeentch's minions, betraying and scheming against each other was the norm.

Unity, cooperation, and harmonious coexistence are not things they should have at all.

"Interesting creation... Come into the embrace of the Lord of Change!"

The Myriad Transformations Demon Lord waved his staff, and countless blue-purple feathers fluttered down, while a powerful burst of chaotic energy shot towards the leading iron man.

This spiritual energy is enough to drive any creature with a soul into madness or mutation instantly.

However, when the foul energy flow struck the Iron Man's smooth shell, it scattered like water hitting a reef.

The black stone module on the Iron Man's chest glowed faintly, effectively dispelling subspace energy.

The command-type Iron Man emitted a cold, mechanical voice through it:
"Subspace contamination detected. Execute the cleanup protocol."

"Loyalty! For Om Messiah!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the Iron Men swarmed forward at a speed far exceeding that of biological reactions.

Their metallic limbs contained terrifying power, precisely grabbing the arm, wings, and head of the Myriad Transformations Demon Lord, and then their booster engines started up at full power.

The Great Demon attempted to use psionic magic to break free, but it found that its psionic power was much less effective against the machines protected by the black stone.

"No! This is impossible!"

Amidst the incredulous screams of the Myriad Transformations Demon Lord, the Iron Men worked together, and ear-piercing sounds of flesh tearing and bones shattering rang out one after another. This powerful Tzeentch was actually torn into several pieces.

Similar scenes played out on various parts of the warship.

With their absolute execution, resistance to subspace corrosion, and high killing efficiency, the Iron Man Corps became an important pillar for stabilizing the front line.

Galad himself was like a skilled and experienced hunter, moving through the most dangerous areas inside the warship, specifically hunting down Chaos Demons who were trying to organize an effective attack.

At the Hongpao ammunition depot, a Khorne's bloodthirsty berserker had just chopped down an entire squad of auxiliary soldiers with its massive axe.

The ground was littered with indistinguishable limbs and torsos, and the blood boiled and burned with the arrival of the Great Demon. A terrifying blood mist that drove people mad and lost their way filled the air, obscuring the Great Demon's wings and bone spikes.

Bathed in blood, it let out a satisfied roar from its gaping maw.

Destroying this warehouse containing macro cannon ammunition would trigger a series of secondary explosions that, while not completely destroying the Void Annihilation-class warship, would slow it down and weaken it, creating conditions for the Chaos Demon Army to completely occupy the area.

"War and destruction, let everything burn..."

However, its roar abruptly stopped the next second, as a blazing plasma beam struck the back of its head precisely, causing the great demon to sway.

Galad emerged from the shadows, his plasma pistol still emitting scalding white smoke.

The bloodthirsty madman didn't even turn his head immediately. Instead, he swung the giant axe in his hand backward, using the soles of his feet as the center of his power, like a powerful bow suddenly releasing kinetic energy.

The giant axe, imbued with the blessing of Khorne, sliced ​​through everything in its path, like a hot knife through butter, easily cutting through the armor and supporting pillars of any warships it touched. Even the broken ends still contained traces of molten lava and brass.

But Galad had already charged forward like a whirlwind. He dodged the slash at a tricky angle, and the ancient power sword in his hand swept across in a perfect arc, leaving a penetrating wound on the Great Demon's waist.

The filthy demon blood splattered onto the deck like lava, hissing and corroding.

His movements were clean and swift, without any hesitation, each strike hitting the vital points directly.

But this darling of Khorne did not immediately collapse; the intense pain instead fueled its most primal rage.

It roared deafeningly, completely disregarding its own injuries, and swung its massive brass battle axe with destructive power at an even more frenzied speed, trying to cut everything around it into dust.

"Scatter! Take cover!"

Galad calmly gave the order, while nimbly leaping backward.

The Dark Angels around him executed orders flawlessly, spreading out with skillful tactical maneuvers, using ammunition boxes, support pillars, and heavy equipment as cover, while continuously unleashing firepower at the berserker with bomb guns and plasma guns.

The scorching bullets and high-energy plasma exploded into sparks and scorch marks on the berserker's thick armor and tough skin. Although they could not kill it immediately, the continuous damage was rapidly depleting its power.

A dark angel wielding a thunder hammer seized the opportunity and suddenly charged in from the flank during the brief moment of stiffness revealed after the berserker's powerful slash.

The thunder hammer roared as it slammed into the side of the madman's knee joint, the immense kinetic energy exploding outwards with a dazzling arc of electricity.

With a crisp "crack," the madman's thick leg bone shattered, and it let out a howl mixed with pain and rage, its massive body involuntarily collapsing to one knee.

"Now!" A glint flashed in Galad's eyes, and he started again like a hunting lion.

The Infinite Engine runs at overload, granting him explosive speed in an instant.

He used the knees of the madman as a springboard to leap high into the air, aiming his power sword at the back of the madman's relatively vulnerable neck.

The power sword's disintegrating force field emitted a piercing shriek as the blade painstakingly cut into tough muscle and bone.

Galad's arm muscles bulged, and he pressed down with all his might!
"Pfft!" The enormous, horned demon head separated from the body, tumbling onto the deck, its blood-flame-burning eyes still holding an unbelievable ferocity.

The headless torso stood frozen in place for a moment before collapsing heavily forward, demonic blood gushing from its neck cavity like a waterfall, quickly pooling into a burning pool of blood.

The battle seemed to have temporarily come to an end, and the crisis at the Hongpao ammunition depot was averted.

Several dark angels approached the fallen corpse of the berserker, carefully confirming its complete demise. However, in that moment of slight relaxation after the victory, another change occurred!

From the heavy shadow cast by the bloodthirsty monster's corpse, a pinkish-purple phantom darted out silently like a ghost.

Its speed exceeded the limits of retinal detection; all that could be seen was a blurry afterimage and a cold, gleaming light.

The target is Gallard, who has just landed and is still breathing heavily!

"Watch out!" A veteran from the inner ring who was closest to the attack sensed the danger. Almost instinctively, he took a step forward, trying to block the attack with his body.

But it's too late.

A long, curved blade, gleaming with an eerie pink light, slashed through the veteran's powerful armor with ease, splitting him in two, armor and all, his internal organs and blood splattering everywhere.

The blade, its momentum undiminished, then sliced ​​through Galad's left shoulder armor, which he hadn't had time to fully dodge.

"Stab!"

The shoulder armor of the precision-engineered power armor was sliced ​​open as if it were made of paper, leaving a deep, bone-revealing wound on his shoulder.

Even more terrifying, the wound did not produce a simple, intense pain, but rather a strange numbness and burning sensation, which quickly gave rise to an ominous, pearl-like, shimmering pink glow.

Slaanesh is extremely poisonous!

Galad grunted and staggered back a few steps, nearly dropping his power sword from his right hand.

He heard inexplicable whispers in his ears, and bizarre hallucinations appeared before his eyes: the beautiful forest scenery of Caliban in the past, the voices and smiles of his comrades in life, and even some instinctive desires that had long been suppressed by genetic modification...

All of this was twisted together, attempting to break his steely will and plunge him into the ultimate sensual pleasure and eternal depravity.

"Hehehe... Strong warrior, your will is like steel, but even steel can decay..."

A voice, both alluring and malevolent, rang out, its gender ambiguous.

The Great Keeper of the Secrets of Slaanesh finally revealed its true form. It was tall and slender, with an elegant yet contorted posture, covered in smooth chitinous carapace, and wore a complex expression on its face that was both a smile and a mockery.

It walked forward with a smile, admiring Galad's body trembling slightly as he resisted the toxins and illusions, as if admiring a perfect collectible that was about to be acquired.

It extended its other hand, covered in smooth carapace, with sharp fingertips, and slowly reached for Galad's helmet, wanting to take the head of this resilient warrior as the most dazzling trophy in its desecrated treasury.

"What a perfect head... I offer it to the Lord of Pleasure..."

Just as its fingertips were about to touch the helmet, Galad, who had seemed about to fall, suddenly raised his head.

Although the eyes beneath the Dark Angel's helmet were slightly blurred by the poison, what burned deep within was an inextinguishable rage belonging to the Caliban!

"idiot!"

A cold, contemptuous rebuke was squeezed out from between Galad's teeth.

He didn't even try to block or dodge the grabbing hand. Instead, he poured all the remaining strength in his body, along with the last bit of energy forcibly squeezed out by the Infinite Engine, into his right arm.

The power sword thrust upwards with a sudden, forceful motion.

"puff--!"

The sword tip pierced precisely into the gap where the Great Guardian's jaw and neck met, cutting upwards with unstoppable force, and emerging directly from the top of its head.

An eerie pinkish-purple blood immediately spurted out from the bloodletting groove on the sword blade.

The mocking expression on the Great Keeper's face froze instantly, replaced by extreme astonishment and pain.

Its seductive whispers turned into a hissing sound, and its body convulsed violently like a skinned frog.

Galad twisted his wrist sharply, and the disintegration field of the power sword exploded completely inside the demon's skull.

"boom!"

The Great Guardian's head exploded like a ripe fruit, and his headless body fell limply to the ground, the long, narrow blade in his hand clattering onto the deck.

Having slain three Chaos Demons, even with the formidable physique of a Primal Space Marine, Galad was now at his limit.

The deadly poison of Slaanesh raged wildly within him, intertwining with the genetic burden caused by the overuse of the Infinite Engine, making him feel as if his body was being slowly sliced ​​apart from the inside by countless tiny blades.

He leaned on his power sword, breathing heavily, his vision beginning to darken at the edges.

But the battle is not over yet.

A low, filthy sound, like bubbles rising from a swamp, came from the depths of the ammunition depot.

The Great Unclean One, who had been hiding at the very back, quietly preparing its evil ritual using the corpses of its companions and the dissipated warp energy, finally completed its spell.

It brandished its decaying giant staff, and a thick, viscous, dark green cursed energy, exuding a deadly stench, surged towards Galad and the two remaining dark angels beside him like a viscous wave.

Wherever that energy passed, the metal deck was corroded with deep pits, and the air seemed to wail.

"Protect the commander!"

The two loyal warriors stood in front of Galad without hesitation, raised their shields, and activated the field generators on their power armor.

However, Nurgle's plague curse is not a purely physical or energy attack; it is more of a conceptual corruption and decay.

The force field barrier melted away like snow under the sun the moment it came into contact with the cursed energy, and the dark green energy wrapped around the power armor of the two warriors as if it were alive.

Before they could even scream, the heavy armor of the two dark angels rusted and peeled away at a visible speed, exposing flesh that instantly liquefied and boiled, mixing with molten metal and bones to form two pools of pus that emitted an indescribable stench.

Galad's eyes were bloodshot with rage. The pain of witnessing his comrade die in such a gruesome manner far surpassed the torment of Slaanesh's poison.

At this moment, he was the only Space Marine left in the ammunition depot.

The toxins in his body are dismantling his genetic code, and even the self-healing factor loaded in the Infinite Engine is completely ineffective under the combined effects of the Nurgle Plague and the Slaanesh poison.

But retreat was never in Galad's vocabulary.

"The torch illuminates the Emperor's will, utterly destroying all evil spirits!"

"The Dark Angels will never yield!"

He used his last bit of willpower to suppress his physical collapse and mental hallucinations, letting out a hoarse but still resolute battle cry.

Garrad brandished his power sword, which was already somewhat damaged from slaying several demons and whose disintegration field was no longer stable, and charged towards the massive Nurgle demon like a burning meteor.

His movements were no longer as fluid and precise as before, but were filled with a tragic and powerful sense of desperation.

He dodged the slow but powerful strikes of the Great Unclean One's plague staff, and used his power sword to slash a huge wound in the opponent's bloated abdomen, from which foul-smelling entrails and pus gushed out like a burst dam.

The Great Impure One grumbled in discontent, brandishing his massive staff and filthy arm with a hook, trying to catch the annoying little worm.

Using his relatively small size and remaining speed, Galad circled around the Great Demon, slashing and hacking, each attack imbued with his last life force.

"Target locked, maximum damage protocol activated."

A cold, emotionless mechanical voice echoed at the end of the passage, signaling the arrival of the Iron Man Squad that had previously torn apart the Myriad Transformations Demon Lord.

Their red optical sensors instantly locked onto the Nurgle, who was locked in combat with Galard.

The heavy weapon modules on the shoulders and forearms of the Iron Man Squad deployed simultaneously, unleashing even more powerful pulse particle cannons and miniature singularity bombs specifically designed to counter large targets.

"boom!!!"

Several highly compressed particle streams shot out like blue lightning, instantly piercing through the bloated and rotting flesh of the Great Impure One, leaving behind countless huge, pitch-black cavities whose edges were still ionizing and melting.

Following closely behind were dozens of missiles carrying singularity generators, which swarmed into these cavities, creating one miniature black hole after another within them.

Even the resilient, life-filled body of the Great Demon Nurgle finally reached its limit in the face of this pure and efficient physical destruction.

It let out a final, bitter cry of despair, its massive body shattering into pieces in a series of internal explosions before collapsing and vanishing, erasing all trace of its existence.

The shockwave from the explosion sent the already swaying Galad flying, crashing heavily into the wall behind him before sliding to the ground.

He leaned against the wall, barely supporting his body with the power sword that was completely broken and covered in cracks.

His power armor was badly damaged, and the pink poison marks on his shoulder wound were mixed with internal bleeding caused by the collapse of his genes, making every breath he took filled with blood and excruciating pain.

This decorated veteran of the Dark Angels could feel his life slipping away rapidly.

But he still did not fall.

He stood there, like an ancient tree in the Caliban forest, weathered by time yet never bending.

The visor of his tactical helmet was shattered, revealing his pale yet still resolute face, with even a faint smile on his lips.

"It is an honor... to fight alongside you to the very end."

“Gallad…sir…”

As Galad's vision grew darker, he heard a human voice that was also dying.

That was Commissar Marcus. This mortal had miraculously survived the aftermath of the desperate battle between the Dark Angels and the Chaos Demons, and was still able to utter a complete sentence.

However, he was also on his deathbed, with all his organs failing, and death had already extended its scythe to claim his life, just waiting to withdraw it.

Galad didn't speak; he had no strength left, but he turned his eyes toward Marcus.

He personally slew four Chaos Demons from different evil gods, fulfilling his promise to Sigismund.

He, Galad, a veteran of the Dark Angels' inner circle, son of Lion Lion, is worthy of the Emperor, worthy of the Lion, and worthy of the glory of Caliban!

His gaze seemed to pierce through the decks of the warship, looking towards the still fiercely contested starry sky, towards distant Terra, and towards the direction where Ryan was.

Finally, the look in his eyes slowly froze, but his body still leaned against the sword, standing in place like an immortal monument.

Inner Ring veteran Galad, proudly died here, never yielding a single step.

(End of this chapter)