Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 508 The Rotting Fortress
“Pain…is the Father’s…caress! Your…purification…is in vain!” Another Fallen One raised a swollen, deformed arm with a huge corrosive nozzle at the end, aiming it at the Gravis heavy armor squad that was firing fiercely.

It split open its massive, fang-filled maw and hissed mockingly, "Feel...rebirth!"

A thick, foul-smelling, dark green acidic pus stream gushed out like a high-pressure water gun!

"Acid spray! Take evasive action!" Squad Leader Gravis shouted a warning, while simultaneously spurring his heavy armor to a full-force sideways maneuver.

A torrent of viscous acid swept past the heavy shoulder armor and splashed onto a smoldering airdrop pod behind it, instantly producing a violent hissing sound—the thick adamantite armor plate was corroded, smoked, and dissolved into huge craters at a visible speed!
"For Dorne! For the Emperor! Crush them!" the squad leader roared, his goggles turning crimson with rage.

Several Gravis heavy armored warriors immediately turned their guns around, and the dull roar of the heavy explosive guns and the blinding scorching stream of the multi-barreled thermal cannons instantly engulfed the fallen one who was spraying acid!
The powerful heavy-explosive shell tore through the rotting flesh, overgrown tissue, and rusted armor covering its body, blasting out sprays of filthy pus.

A beam of blazing white, molten heat struck precisely at the root of its mutated jet arm, melting it instantly with an intensely hot temperature that distorted vision!

The Fallen One let out a painful, distorted, and inhuman scream, as scalding blood and billowing steam gushed from its severed arm.

However, it did not fall. The excruciating pain only fueled its ferocity, and with its remaining weapons and mutated limbs, it unleashed even more vicious curses, launching a more ferocious attack on the Ash Knights. Its extraordinary tenacity was astonishing!

At this critical moment, a low-altitude shriek pierced through the polluted air.

Several Thunderhawk gunboats, like angry steel giants, swooped down from the churning poisonous clouds, their engine nozzles trailing long blue flames.

The twin-barreled explosive cannons under the wings unleashed a dense rain of bullets, accurately sweeping across the horde of walkers and the swamp surrounding the Fallen who were trying to flank the Ash Knight, blasting up patches of death flowers mixed with rotting flesh, blood, and filth.

The missiles mounted on the fuselage trailed plumes of smoke as they hurtled towards the profane creatures that were writhing in the distance, preparing to fire their filthy shells. The violent explosions instantly reduced them to burning wreckage.

The gunboats' broadside guns also joined the suppression, the blazing ammunition belts lashing out like precise whips at the relatively vulnerable joints and armor connections of the Fallen, splattering large amounts of rusty fragments and foul-smelling tissue fluid, effectively disrupting their movements.

Immediately afterwards, the judgment from the heavens descended!
From the side of the "Gabbro" ship, which was suspended high above the orbit, a blinding spear of light containing pure destructive energy, like a punitive sword thrown by the gods, precisely tore through the thick yellow-green miasma clouds of the planet Elegy VII and pierced down in an instant!

The target is the coordinates the sergeant major called out—Lambda-9 Boiling Swamp!
"boom------!!!"

The terrifying roar, beyond description, shook the entire battlefield, as if the planet itself was wailing!
The point where the light spear struck instantly transformed into a boiling, destructive furnace hundreds of meters in diameter!

A blinding white light engulfed everything, followed by a massive shockwave and a towering mushroom cloud filled with scorching steam, boiling sludge, rotting limbs, and completely vaporized matter!

The mud in that area was like a boiled abscess, instantly evaporated, melted, and transformed into a bottomless, vitrified crater that emitted a pungent, burnt smell!
All the surging walkers and any other lurking Fallen, along with the desecrated land itself, were utterly wiped out by the Emperor's wrath from the stars! The shockwave from the explosion even spread to the edge of the landing zone, blowing away the outer walkers and momentarily halting the Fallen warriors engaged in fierce combat. The aftershocks of the orbital strike, like an invisible hammer, bought the Ash Knights, who were struggling in battle, a precious respite.

With the tenacious resistance of the Terminator and Gravis heavy units, the precise low-altitude sweeps of the Thunderhawk gunships, and the devastating support of the Orbital Light Lance, the first wave of the Fallen Astartes was abruptly halted.

Although they were like unkillable monsters, each heavy blow only made them more enraged, the Ash Knights' solid lines, exquisite coordination, and devastating support from the sky and the ground prevented the enemy from advancing any further.

The landing zone expanded with great difficulty amidst fierce battles of iron and fire, light spears and acid.

The charred rocky ground was covered with the filthy remains of the grime-covered claws, mixed with traces of being scorched by purifying flames and huge radial cracks caused by the orbital strike.

The Ash Knights' black and white power armor was stained with foul-smelling pus, scorch marks, acid corrosion spots, and splattered mud, but their lines were as solid as a reef.

The pre-designated "Purification Point Alpha" landing site was finally captured and secured inch by inch after a bloody battle.

"The landing site is secure." Hathor's voice rang out in the highest command channel, calm, clear, and extremely penetrating, instantly drowning out the explosions, engine screechs, and whispers of chaotic psionic energy on the battlefield.

"All units, advance towards the main target 'Rotten Fortress' according to the predetermined route." Her order was concise and powerful, without the slightest hesitation, directly pointing to the final objective.

Immediately afterwards, her instructions cut to the heart of the matter with surgical precision: "Headmaster Ahriman, maintain the intensity of the psionic suppression, prioritizing the suppression of enemy wizards; Loken, assess the coordination effectiveness of the first phase of the forces, focusing on analyzing the threat level and anomalous resilience of the Fallen."

“Received.” Loken’s deep voice sounded beside her, completely calm.

His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, swept coldly across the battlefield below: whether the coordination between firing positions was seamless, whether orders were quickly understood and perfectly executed; the reaction speed and tactical responses of the troops when facing the Fallen's attack; the smoothness and suppressive power of the coordinated operations between heavy units and the Terminator assault team; the timing accuracy and destructive effect of railgun support; the actual suppressive efficiency of the Thunderhawk gunships' low-altitude intervention...

Every detail was under his cold scrutiny.

What weighed heavily on his mind were the characteristics displayed by those Nurgle creations—their bizarre resilience in the face of attacks, their unsettling speed of wound healing, and their twisted yet incredibly tenacious vitality.

His observations focused particularly on the fallen Astartes: they ignored small arms fire, could fight Terminators head-on, and even after enduring heavy firepower and the aftershocks of orbital fire, they could still maintain a ferocious counterattack.

For this reforged blade, the real test has only just begun. Their ultimate goal is the core of the fortress, hidden deep within the plague-stricken land, exuding an even stronger stench of decay and blasphemous light—the Rotting Fortress.

(End of this chapter)