Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch

"I have seen through that man's gold suit, but you are still blinded by it." Luojia looked down at the priest from the national religion. In his eyes, this man dedicated his sincere faith to a hypocritical god, so Poor.

But Luojia would not laugh at him, because he had been like this before. He also worshiped that man as a god and practiced great deeds in his name, but what he got in the end was destruction and humiliation.

The priest's unapologetic piety allowed Luo Jia to see the shadow of thousands of years ago, which undoubtedly aroused his compassion.

Fortunately, the pastor is still alive, but he just needs a little guidance.

Luojia is willing to be the guide, so that not only can a lost person be liberated, but more importantly, the Word Bearer hopes to see that person's fanatics abandon him.

But the pastor didn't seem to understand this. He shook his head slowly and said to the Great Word-giver,

"The true God does not care about anyone's opinions, nor does he force belief. If you believe in Him and chant His name, He will look at you with mercy, that's all. If you don't believe in Him, turn your back on Him His name will not make him sad."

Luo Jia was silent.

Because he heard that the pastor's answer was not original, but came from the Book of Holy Words.

Well, that's the Book of Sacred Scriptures written by him.

Luo Jia was a little angry, and he immediately asked the pastor,

"You said he is a true god, but that person is cruel and ruthless. He only regards you as tools and expects you to fight for him. He has never pointed out a good way for you. He only hopes that you will always keep fighting in this mortal world. Suffer between!”

Luojia used suffering to probe into the pastor's heart.

But the pastor remained unwavering, "We do this voluntarily, and we adhere to His will and are willing to be driven by Him. If He pays us to fight for Him, then this is not faith, but a transaction of exchange of interests." "

Hearing the pastor's answer, Luo Jia's tone paused.

He heard that the other party's answers had gradually deviated from the Book of Holy Words, and there were more specious things.

For nearly ten thousand years, Luojia has been besieged by the Crow King, so he does not know the development of the state religion.

"You are prosperous in his name, but he hates the name of God." Luojia said to the priest again. He stared closely into the other person's eyes, trying to see how the other party would answer this question.

"Only the true God will deny his own divinity. Just because He is God, He can be anything. If He says He is not God, then He is not, because He is God."

Luo Jia: "."

The Great Speaker was at a loss for words several times, and then he angrily took away the flamethrower from the hands of his descendants, "I will burn you alive. No one can give you salvation, not even your God, because He If you are not a true God, you cannot do such a thing!”

The roar of the demon primarch made the whole room tremble. His anger had almost turned into substance, and even his descendants could not help but tremble.

The pastor was also trembling, but he remained unyielding. "All sufferings are the training given to me by the true God. The souls of the devout will be purer in suffering. Beautiful character will always shine in suffering, and the flames will burn my body." , will also wash away my sins, and in the final salvation, faith will guide the soul to His heaven.”

As soon as these words came out, the speaker's cheeks trembled with anger. Just when everyone thought that he was going to press the switch of the flamethrower and burn the priest alive.

But the next second, Luo Jia dropped the flamethrower heavily to the ground.

He walked away and silently retracted his previous thoughts - this pastor was hopeless.

When Horus learned what happened here, his eyebrows frowned slightly.

The pastor is not an exception. Although firm belief seems to him to be a sign of ignorance, no one dares to underestimate its power.

"I hope this will not cause unexpected obstacles to us." Horus murmured to himself, and he looked to his side, "Is this also part of your plan?"

"Of course." The scholar in blue smiled, "Everything is within the plan, and all changes are what I hope for."

Seeing the other party's smile, Horus nodded and said nothing more.

But for some reason, he suddenly had the urge to crush the other person to death.

Villa IV, ground battlefield.

Through the observation holes of the bunker, the imperial soldiers could already see overwhelming monsters that were like a bloody wave, rushing towards them in a steady stream.

On the battlefield, even imperial warriors like Titan will be swallowed up by the waves, and their bodies will be covered with densely packed demons.

The blasphemous objects were frantically attacking the loyalists' defense lines. Various demonic aircraft in the sky were chasing the imperial fighter planes. From time to time, steel objects would fold their wings in the air, burn and fall down, setting off a great war in the distance. explode.

In the temple city, Efilar, who was ready to join the battle, was dumbfounded as a group of Eldar allies appeared silently in front of her.

These Eldar Harlequins provide the Imperium with vast amounts of military supplies and carry the orders of the Imperial Warmaster.

Interrogator Priest Asmodei had already rushed to the battlefield, and he saw the pale mist of the plague rising into the sky like a pillar of boiling fire.

The currents of the Sea of ​​Souls have swept across the world.

The terrifying tentacles of darkness will extend to every loyal soldier.

Continuous battles made Asmodai, who had already undergone Primaris transformation, a little tired.

But he had no intention of withdrawing from the battle. On the contrary, the war with the Blasphemer made his fighting spirit high.

The fire of revenge in his heart burned more and more, almost turning him into flames.

He was a priest and a powerful warrior.

Asmodai chanted a prayer to the Emperor while waving his weapon.

The prayer praising the Emperor was not useless. In this voice, the demons would always scream miserably.

The blasphemous creatures could not hear the sacred sound. They would weaken at a speed visible to the naked eye and then be easily killed by the imperial soldiers.

The arrival of Asmodai would always make the soldiers who fought hard cheer excitedly.

But this sound was always short-lived. The soldiers had to concentrate on the battle to ensure that the defense line would not be broken.

The demons that had just rushed up were killed, and soon more enemies came up.

Accompanied by the pale mist, some dead people with bloody flesh and exposed internal organs walked out with stiff steps.

The clothes of these dead people were extremely dirty, but it was vaguely visible that they were in tattered clothes.

These people died of the plague and eventually became slaves of Nurgle's followers.

The walking corpses came from the conquered human worlds. Their souls were enslaved by demons, and even their dead bodies could not rest in peace.

Asmodai recited the prayer again, but this time the recitation did not work as it should. His throat was burning, as if a piece of red-hot iron was put into it.

The plague had quietly invaded him. Although it could not threaten his life, the symptoms of influenza had begun to hinder him from reciting the sacred scriptures.

With a hoarse throat, he joined the battle with hatred in his heart.

"Shoot!" roared a mortal political commissar.

The dense ruby-colored lasers of the Astra Militarum were fired from the trenches, piercing the pale mist.

Many lasers hit the walking corpses, but they did not have the expected effect.

The lasers tore a lot of flesh and blood from their bodies. Even if their heads were blown up, the walking corpses still did not fall down.

"Use the flamethrower!" the commissar shouted to the soldiers again.

Asmodai fired a shot at a stumbling silhouette.

The effect of the grenade gun was far better than that of the laser weapon. The body of the zombie was blown to pieces, and the rotten flesh and blood limp limply. The dead got real peace.

With their efforts, the tide of zombies was quickly dispersed.

But no one inside the trench cheered, and everyone knew that this was just a trivial victory.

New enemies will step onto the battlefield again.

"Southeast, another large group is coming this way!" The scout soldier shouted on the voice channel.

They called for fire support, and soon, dense white phosphorus incendiary bombs fell with dazzling light, and the fire immediately illuminated the entire trench.

Once the flame of the incendiary bomb is contaminated, it can never be extinguished, but the zombies dragged their burning bodies and continued to move forward. Before they burned out, they would not stop releasing malice.

From the edge of the flame, some ugly monsters reached the edge of the trench.

The blasphemer rushed into the trench with a force that could break bones, and some soldiers quickly dodged.

At this time, Asmodai rushed up and tore the monster's body with a chainsaw sword, defusing the crisis and regaining the front line.

Amid the buzzing sound of the chainsaw sword, he looked around vigilantly.

"Don't be afraid, pick up your weapons, hurry, don't be bitten by them!"

Asmodai reminded the soldiers in a hoarse voice.

Until the last few plague demons were killed by them together.

Asmodai panted, they won a small victory again.

His throat was burning and painful, and he felt much better after drinking some priest's talisman water, at least it was not so strenuous to speak.

The grenade gun was tightly held in his hand, and it was time to offer faith to the Emperor.

The fog on the battlefield became thicker, and visibility almost dropped to less than five meters.

Waves of elegy came from the fog.

The song was wet and thick, like exhaling from a lung full of liquid, then blocked by phlegm in the throat, and finally came out from a swollen mouth.

These words contained loss and sadness, but brewed negative optimism.

Asmodai stood in front of the mortal soldiers, but even so, some soldiers still showed fear on their faces.

Hysterical laughter interrupted the chanting, and in the pale and morbid mist, a swollen giant with a terrible outline walked out.

The ancient motor rubbed and made a sound with every step it took.

Although the evil power of chaos had completely distorted their appearance, Asmodai could still recognize them at a glance.

"Betrayers." Asmodai gritted his teeth and said, his hatred for these dirty traitors was beyond words.

"May the throne bless you." The mortal political commissar on the side muttered to himself, "Heretical Astartes."

The plague zombies in front had consumed a lot of the empire's firepower, and new firepower support was not ready yet.

These fallen warriors saw this point and showed up at this time, intending to completely break through the defense line.

These seemingly swollen guys are actually very cunning. They use some insignificant cannon fodder to easily consume the firepower of the empire.

"Stand firm and stay calm!" Asmodai shouted, trying to boost the courage of the soldiers.

Although he received an equally loud response, Asmodai could still hear the undisguised fear from these voices.

Asmodai did not blame the soldiers. Facing these blasphemous things from Chaos, fear is natural.

It is precisely because of the existence of fear that courage is more precious.

"Shoot!" When the fallen warriors entered the farthest range, the political commissar ordered the soldiers to fire without hesitation.

"For the Emperor, for the Warmaster!" A soldier roared and pulled the trigger, even though his body was trembling with fear.

Hundreds of laser guns began to flash, and bright red light flashed in the trenches.

Asmodai saw a plague warrior being beaten to pieces, but he still did not stop, and even his charge was not affected.

With the blessing of the Plague God, laser weapons have been difficult to threaten these traitors.

As if nothing had happened, these fallen warriors faced the laser fire network and approached quickly.

The hoarse voice still sounded a sad elegy.

The traitors were getting closer and closer, gradually revealing their horrible appearance. These blasphemers were no longer fit to be called human beings.

They were once noble Astartes monks, the protectors of mankind.

But now they were dirty and vicious, with countless diseases coexisting with them. Their abdomens were swollen and even broke their armor.

The skin exposed to the air was either red, swollen and inflamed, or completely necrotic.

Various disgusting liquids dripped from the gaps in their armor. Disgusting parasites crawled in the wounds and filled the gaps in the body.

The fallen warriors sang dirges, but showed a cheerful mood.

The poisonous mist blew through the trenches, although the soldiers' breathing masks could filter out the pollution in the air.

But the stench emitted by the enemy was still unavoidable.

Asmodai wanted to vomit, even the mask of the Space Marines could not filter out the stench.

"All given by the kind father." The plague warrior raised his weapon high.

The rusty bolters pointed at the soldiers in the trenches.

Even though they were completely decayed, their fighting skills had become more and more sophisticated after thousands of years of tempering.

Their shooting was extremely accurate and their coordination was equally tacit.

The bolters made a loud noise, and then the bullets exploded, causing fatal injuries.

Some mortal soldiers who tried to stick their heads out to fight back were directly shattered by the bolts.

The body armor of the Astra Militarum was not enough to protect against such powerful weapons.

In the bodies of those dead, dense demon flies soon emerged from the flesh and blood.

In the face of this horrible scene, some soldiers gradually despaired.

But at this moment, a hoarse and painful hymn sounded from the communication channel. Asmodai endured the severe pain in his throat and sent the Emperor's poem to the desperate soldiers.