Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The stench enveloped Steve, the stench was just a means for Nurgle, an illusion to make the air dirty, a deceit... the real threat was still hiding in the depths of the darkness. Viruses are carefully cooked with their bulging, twisted arms.

Having said that, Steve had to guard.

The flames rose from him, preventing the deadly plagues and viruses from entering his entire body. But they still exist. Steve somehow had the illusion that they would always be there.

From the past to the future, eternal.

What about me? How long can I hold on?

Steve Rogers has no answer. His muscles were sore, and he could even hear his bones rubbing as he moved or swung his sword at mindless walking corpses. It reminded him of the time he was beaten by the hooligans in a Brooklyn alley. Sometimes they simply wanted to trouble him, and sometimes he did it himself.

He was the one who stood up for the weak, even then he was weak. But he did it anyway, some people fought because they had to. For Steve, fighting is just a means, a means that is not necessary or desirable - it is about his beliefs.

A stupid belief, in short, Steve is the kind of person who believes that 'good people are rewarded', under which he actually knows how ugly the world looks like. But he still wanted to believe it. Naive and stupid.

What about other than that?

Steve Rogers never gave up.

It's not a metaphor, it's an adjective, and he never gives up.

Some large green flies flew out from the dark depths, and they were completely burned by the golden flames in mid-air. Their corpses released green smoke as they burned, and a pustule-covered arm, wrinkled and musty-haired, pierced through the smoke and stuck out.

The nails were yellow, extremely long and twisted, covered with green pus. A huge fat figure came out of the darkness. It has green skin, and beneath the layers of fat there are many screaming little nurglings. There was a large opening in the chest and abdomen, and green pus and yellow soup were constantly flowing out of it.

He picked up a handful in one hand and put it into his mouth. The ugly thing muttered indistinct words: "The cursed man has a new son...? No, you are not."

As it tasted the venom, it looked at the weak Steve carefully: "Aha, a new creation..."

Romance

A naive smile slowly crept across the face of Nurgle's demon,

Pure and innocent, that expression formed a huge contrast with its appearance: "What those bluebirds said is true, you are true! But you are much weaker than that villain, it's a pity. In this case, the The hotbed effect you cultivated will also be discounted..."

Steve Rogers swears to God, swears to anyone he knows. He has fought so far, and he has never met a being as disgusting as the creature in front of him. He gritted his teeth so that he wouldn't spit it out, and after a short period of nausea, hatred replaced it.

Humans are born to hate ugly things.

"Is this what you really look like? I've heard some rumors about what you look like—the rumors are all true." Steve said calmly, and at the same time let go of the flame sword and let it fall freely to the ground . Pierced a yellow maggot crawling quietly on the ground and baked it to crumbs.

The demon looked at him with great pity.

No, not right.

Not at him, but at the dead maggot under his feet. It wiped its own eyes, and white tears like tissue fluid poured out of them. The demon sobbed, whimpering, "How could you kill it? It just wants to share the love of a father with you!"

"I don't want that so-called fatherly love in your mouth."

Steve drew his sword, and he breathed in a breath of flaming air. Staring closely at the demon, he forced himself not to notice how disgusting it really was, and instead focused on analyzing its weaknesses. However, the gains were not much.

In his impression, things of this size are usually very difficult to deal with - considering the layers of fat on this thing, Steve is very skeptical that the Flaming Sword can pierce its heart.

It seems that only the flame can start to work.

"That doesn't matter, little man, a loving father loves everyone, it doesn't matter if you love him or not."

On the other hand, the devil is very proud.

It puffed out its chest very much, and this movement made a small nurgling jump out of its fat layer and fell into the big mouth at the chest and abdomen, and it began to swim in the pus comfortably. Come: "Love is love! Little man, you are the creation of the cursed person. You don't understand it yet, but one of your brothers has understood it!"

It suddenly mumbled again in a low voice, but unfortunately, even a mutter was louder than the roar of the bravest man.

Steve heard: "He doesn't really understand much...he's still being punished in the Father's house, the little blue man burned the Father's garden, he was angry, so , now we're here to make your place a new garden!"

New garden...?

Steve suddenly had an ominous premonition, and he asked sharply, "Garden? What garden?"

The demon looked at him in confusion, as if even more confused than he was. It even raised a hand and scratched the top of its moldy hair: "Uh, isn't the little guy a little too stupid? A garden is a garden! There are so many cute little ones there, and of course, there are plagues and viruses. , In short, there is everything there, and it is the garden of the loving father."

"I'm asking you..." Steve's face was gloomy, he put on a starter gesture, and the flaming sword covered half of his face. "New garden. What does that mean?"

"This planet, little man."

The demon's voice suddenly became wise, and its eyes were no longer innocent and stupid.

With a strange smile, this thing took out a long stick full of internal organs from its abdomen, and then leaned on the ground, a green smoke gushing out of its mouth: "You understand now that it's too late, this clean The disgusting world will soon become the Father's new garden!"

damn it.

Steve watched the thing come rushing towards him at breakneck speed, his brain mulling over how to take the move. One side is still thinking - how do I notify them?

In fact, he doesn't need to notify.

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Guilliman's fingers were shaking, and he had to take three deep breaths to calm himself. The bird divination instrument on the Glory of Macragge was frantically warning that a navigator had just been beheaded, and he saw something he shouldn't have seen. These things made him not even able to retain his soul, and died very thoroughly. His body was taken away by the Servants, and will soon be completely destroyed.

Varro Digris, the Ultramarines Librarian, stood beside Guilliman. He is also bald, and blue psionic energy overflows from his eyes. It is obvious that the think tank curator is carrying out a psionic spell. After about two minutes, the blue light dissipated, and Diglis closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"Did it work? Did they hear it?"

Guilliman, knowing the outcome, asked hopefully.

Diglis shook his head: "Forgive my incompetence, my lord, I can't communicate at such a long distance."

"No, it's not your problem...it's me who went to the hospital in a panic."

The director of the think tank looked at Guilliman, wondering what to do.

He wasn't here ten minutes ago. Originally, he was ready to join the ground battle. But another alarm on Macragge's Glory stopped him, followed by a broadcast, from Guilliman himself. He ordered Diggles to come to the Starwhisper bridge to report to him.

When he arrived, a heavy cloud immediately attacked the mind of the think tank curator.

In that terrifying vision he saw a short future. A navigator is about to contract a deadly plague that spreads to everyone on board, not even the Primarch from such a disaster. As a last resort, he annihilated the navigator's soul with a psionic spell, then beheaded him with a sword.

What the navigator saw, he had no way of knowing, but neither did he need to know. Gein Macragge's ornithology and remote-sensing mapping have said it all. Guilliman's gaffe also came from this - a huge green cloud of mist was creeping towards Terra in an impossible vacuum.

What it was, everyone who was present knew it in their hearts.

damn it!

Guilliman clenched his fists with a gloomy face and cursed in his heart. But did nothing else. His anger came from many aspects. For example, the communication with the Ministry of Military Affairs was inexplicably cut off, and he could no longer command the army in real time. Like losing contact with the Marius, like the current situation.

Artillery and cyclone torpedoes can destroy planets in a salvo, the firepower of Macragge's Glory is questionable. But how are they going to blow up a cloud? The cannonball will only pass through the cloud, but cannot actually damage it or dispel it. What's more, it's the power of Nurgle. Not belonging to any natural phenomenon, ordinary clouds may be dissipated by the wind...

But how do you dispel the power of an evil god? In the deepest dark nightmare of mankind, the artillery only adds to the laugh.

After a moment of pondering, Guilliman quickly issued an order: "Send a transport plane, prepare the people from the Military Affairs Department, mobilize soldiers... In addition, let the people of Xingyu Court measure this cloud at all costs. Its size and the enemy it is about to head towards, I want to know this within half an hour."

Digris used his psionic energy to quickly issue an order to the soldiers on standby in the hangar. In just a few minutes, the three transport planes whizzed away and quickly approached Terra's track.

He looked at his Primarch, and found that the Primarch's expression was as calm as ever, but the clenched fists were trembling.

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