426: Chapter 428 Orbital Divine Punishment! Great Impure One, you've been blasted out!

Ever since Mathieu blessed those soldiers who wished to leave, the atmosphere of the entire unit had undergone a subtle change.

Those who remained no longer had eyes filled only with exhaustion and fear, but instead possessed a flame mixed with shame and determination.

They no longer followed passively but actively maintained the marching formation, as if proving through their actions that they were worthy of the priest's "understanding."

Under this newfound cohesion, the morale of the Crusaders climbed imperceptibly.

They were no longer a rabble driven by fear, but an army that had rediscovered its soul in the midst of despair.

Under Mathieu's incredible charisma, the morale of the Crusaders was at an unprecedented high.

They were no longer a rabble driven by fear, but an army that truly possessed a soul.

Their footsteps became firm, and their gazes grew sharp.

At this moment, the mortal flesh and blood seemed to have been infused with a will of steel.

Something even stranger happened.

Their marching route seemed to be truly protected by some invisible force.

Several times, Justinian's tactical visor detected large-scale daemon groups active on their flanks, and he had already prepared to engage.

But those daemons acted as if they were blind, turning a blind eye to their massive procession and surging directly in another direction.

Once was a coincidence, twice was luck.

When for the third time, a patrol consisting of several Plague Drones and lumbering Daemon Engines rumbled past on a ridge less than five hundred meters away without the slightest awareness of their existence, Justinian could no longer explain it away as a "coincidence."

He looked toward Mathieu, who was walking in the center of the formation.

The young priest continued to walk forward in silence, but Justinian could feel a gentle and holy psychic field centered on Mathieu, enveloping the entire unit.

This power was not strong, perhaps even faint, but it acted like a perfect camouflage, quietly erasing their presence from reality and turning them into nothing more than a roadside stone or a meaningless patch of mire in the perception of the daemons.

"... A miracle." Justinian whispered to the warriors of his squad over the comms channel.

The Primaris Space Marines under his command did not respond, but their tightening grip on their Bolters and the increasingly reverent gazes they cast toward Mathieu said everything.

After another day of arduous trekking, their destination finally appeared on the horizon.

It was a dilapidated Gothic cathedral.

It must have been magnificent once; the towering spires and ornate carved window grilles all silently spoke of the glorious past of the Imperium.

But now, it was thoroughly corrupted.

Huge, tumor-like fungal carpets were pulsating as they grew savagely from the cathedral's walls and foundations.

With every pulsation, the holy stone groaned under the unbearable weight, being pushed until it shattered.

On the surface of the fungal carpet, countless pustules of varying sizes opened and closed, breathing in rhythm with this heartbeat, spraying mists of spores.

The orifices flowing with green liquid emitted disgusting "pop" sounds and satisfied sighs.

The cathedral's iconic stained-glass windows had long since shattered.

In the hollow window frames, disgusting spheres composed of countless flies, resembling the compound eyes of insects, were embedded, buzzing and rotating as they greedily watched the outside world.

A scent of plague, so thick it was almost tangible, permeated from the cathedral, even forming a green, churning toxic fog in the surrounding area.

"The 'Cathedral of the Mourning'..." Justinian read its name, his voice filled with disgust.

"Now, it only deserves to be called a 'Nurgle latrine'."

"Prepare for combat!" He did not hesitate for a second and immediately issued the order.

"Crusaders are responsible for perimeter fire suppression! My squad, follow me and breach!"

Mathieu, however, reached out and stopped him.

"No, Captain." Mathieu shook his head, his gaze fixed intently on the profane structure.

"The things inside are far more numerous than we imagined."

He did not need detection equipment; he could "feel" it.

In the deepest part of that cathedral, there was a vast, evil consciousness, filled with joy and malice, stirring a giant cauldron like a craftsman obsessed with his own work.

Every time it stirred, the plague energy of the entire planet of Iax pulsed along with it.

That was the source of the plague!

"Roar—!"

As if sensing their arrival, the cathedral's gates, which were plastered with fungal carpets and pus, exploded inward!

Endless Nurglings, like a burst dam of excrement, screamed and laughed as they surged out from within the gates!

They converged into a green tide, sweeping toward the Crusaders' position!

"Open fire!" Justinian roared.

Dense gunfire erupted from the Crusaders' position.

Lasers, Bolters, and heavy machine gun fire wove into a web of death, tearing the Nurglings at the forefront to shreds.

But there were simply too many of them!

In an instant, the green tide had reached the front of the position!

"For the Emperor!"

The Primaris Space Marines roared as they took the initiative to meet them!

Justinian's Chainsword drew a deadly arc, instantly hacking seven or eight Nurglings into pulp.

His squad was like a dining knife inserted into butter, charging back and forth within the daemon tide, leaving a trail of green remains in their wake.

However, more and more daemons poured out of the cathedral!

Plague Zombies, Plaguebearers, and even several massive Plague Toads were mixed in the sea of Nurglings, attacking the defense line with the poison they spat and their pustule-covered giant tongues.

The Crusaders' defense line began to suffer casualties, and the situation rapidly worsened.

"Captain! We're bogged down! We can't break through at all!"

A warrior from the Nova Marines roared as he kicked away a Nurgling that was trying to bite his leg armor, then backhanded a Plaguebearer with a shot to the head.

Justinian's brow was locked in a frown.

He knew they couldn't keep wasting time like this.

The stamina of mortal soldiers was limited; once their defense line collapsed, his own squad would be overwhelmed by endless daemons.

He glanced at Mathieu, who was still standing quietly in the rear praying, a flash of determination in his eyes.

"The 'Sword of the Morning Star'! Hear my command!"

He activated the encrypted communication with the battle fleet in orbit, his voice as cold as iron.

"Yes, Captain!"

"Initiate target locking beacon, sync with my tactical visor! Target, the main structure of the 'Cathedral of the Mourning'! Requesting... [Exterminatus-level] orbital bombardment!"

The pilot on the other end of the comms gasped.

"Captain, confirm order? This will trigger the 'Danger Close' protocol! The blast radius will cover your current position, and the margin of error could result in total friendly annihilation!"

"I confirm! I am the beacon! This is the only tactical window! Sync my visor, count down three seconds, and then purge this place!" Justinian roared, leaving no room for argument.

"... Received! Beacon synchronization complete! Main battery charging... seventy percent... eighty percent..."

Justinian kicked off the ground, jumped onto a high point, and aimed his Bolter at the cathedral's spire.

"Attention everyone! Prepare for the shockwave!" He shouted on everyone's channel.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"—Fire!"

A beam of light, thicker and brighter than the sun, pierced through the filthy sky of Iax and struck the dome of the "Cathedral of the Mourning" with precision, at a speed beyond mortal comprehension!

There was no deafening explosion.

There was only dead silence.

Time seemed to have been pressed to pause at this moment.

Immediately afterward, the destructive power erupted from within!

The Gothic cathedral, which had been corrupted for thousands of years, disintegrated with a boom, starting from the dome, as if crushed by an invisible giant hand!

Holy stone and profane fungal carpet were vaporized and evaporated together in the absolute heat and energy!

A visible white shockwave, mixed with billions of tons of dust and rubble, swept out in all directions!

Justinian's squad immediately activated the gravity stabilization systems of their power armor, pinning themselves firmly to the ground.

As for the mortal soldiers, under the roaring orders of their officers, they desperately lay prone, using their bodies to resist the apocalyptic gale.

When the light and smoke dissipated slightly.

Everyone was stunned into silence by the scene before them.

The entire upper half of the hill where the cathedral originally stood had been cleanly leveled!

A huge, mirror-smooth glazed crater appeared before everyone's eyes.

And at the very center of that crater.

The scene originally hidden deep within the cathedral was rudely exposed to the light of day.

A huge cauldron made of brass and bone, over twenty meters in diameter, stood quietly there.

In the cauldron, thick, iridescent [God-Blight Fluid], which fused billions of viruses and despair, was churning.

A massively bloated, fat, huge figure with skin as waxy yellow as rotten cheese remained frozen in place, in a comical pose with one hand holding a giant wooden spoon and the other stirring the cauldron.

Its two round little eyes were filled with confusion and bewilderment, as if it still hadn't figured out why the roof of its cathedral had suddenly disappeared.

Great Unclean One, Plague Father KuGath.

For the first time, a look of... annoyance at being disturbed appeared on that face which always wore a kind (in the eyes of a daemon) smile.

"Who..."

Its voice, like the coughing of countless sick people, resounded in everyone's soul.

"... disturbed my soup-making time?"