Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

...how many punches did I punch it?

Sicarius asked himself in the gap between his fists. He could not remember, the superhuman brains of the Astartes had become stagnant under the paralysis of the plague. Even the movement of the muscles is the same. Three minutes ago, he was able to counterattack while dodging its attack, and even took time to keep his balance.

As for now, Sicarius no longer wants to be able to defend - he just wants to punch this damn demon a few more times before he dies.

At least...at least until the nuns move the wounded.

he thought so. But he completely ignored his injuries.

His entire right arm had long been corroded by the acid pus to the deep visible bone, the tendons hung from the pale bone, and the epidermis was burnt clean by the disgusting pus. At the same time, the dozens of plagues that spread on the Nurgle fiend were constantly eroding his once strong body from within.

"Ahem—!" Sicarius coughed, and a mouthful of black blood spurted out, even mixed with fragments of internal organs.

The demon looked at him with joy, to be precise, at the mouth of blood he spat out. It jumped up and down as if enchanted.

The expression on that ugly face was as if he had seen some peerless treasure. Among the Nurgle demons, it should not be a talkative temperament, otherwise it would not have uttered a complete sentence until now: "What a hotbed!"

It jumped up with great joy, and swung its stick in the air with agility that was totally out of character for its corpulent size. A green mist of blight spread from the tip of its humble weapon. Sicarius widened his eyes, urging his body to respond.

Dodge, dodge! damn it!

He let out a hoarse growl from his throat and tilted his body with all his might. The Nurgle demon let out a grunt of disapproval, seeming to despise his dodging. It rubbed its battered face, threw some maggots and mucus on the ground, and spoke in a muffled voice.

"The villain is not kind," it said. "You hit me, but I didn't hide. But when I hit you, you kept hiding."

God damn idiot.

Sicarius fell to the ground, panting weakly. I didn't even have the strength to sneer, so I could only curse silently in my heart. He glanced behind him out of the corner of his eye, and there was no one there. This put him at ease.

The Nurgle Demon paused angrily on the ground, then swung it up again.

To end the life of Sicarius. However, a Nurgling from nowhere flew in front of it. The little demon spoke the depraved language in a small voice, causing the Nurgle demon to stop.

It put down the wooden stick depressedly: "What? Alas! Well, since it's Father Yu's words."

The ugly thing turned around, wriggling its fat, maggoted ass and left. Dozens of Nurglings descended from the sky, bound Sicarius with withering branches, and carried him out. The sights he saw along the way made Sicarius's mood drop even more.

Countless people became their 'hotbeds', guards, civilians, and medical nuns. Anyone - anyone who has ever lived.

This is the case on the road from the inside to the outside of the Museum Hall. The once gorgeous and majestic corridor is full of corpses, and many even hang from the ceiling. The green viscous liquid was glistening there, obscuring the sacred frescoes.

Sicarius turned his head and saw a man who had not yet died leaning on the side of the road to look at him in despair. His only remaining eye, which was not covered by mycelium, was full of bloodshots, and the fear and pain almost came out.

And Sicarius couldn't do anything—he couldn't help him.

He couldn't even help himself.

The smelly Nurglings carried him, made a panting sound, and carried him all the way to the front of the museum hall and stood up. Below the long steps stood a huge figure. It is incomparably fat and has a face like a dream demon. Holding many Nurglings in his arms, he was stroking them constantly.

It had three mouths, its stomach, its left arm, and where it should have been — the thing grinned at Sicarius, and the churning maggot fell from its mouth as it spoke. There is even a different sense of humor in its blasphemous words.

"Hello, Ultramarines. I'm Rotigues, Father Rain. Second favorite of Nurgle, and it's a great pleasure to meet you." It grinned, looking genuinely happy.

Sicarius' gastric juices were churning, rushing up his throat. However, the second company commander did not vomit in the end. He stared at the demon who called himself Father Rain, and if he guessed right, it should be a great unclean person.

Demons live up to their name - they really aren't very clean.

"Your eyes are a bit rude, it's really not polite."

It stomped a little angrily, and a Nurgling burst into tears in its arms. So it put on a smile again, and more maggots fell out. Some fell on the ground, and some simply fell on him and drilled around.

"I'm not going to be angry, well, there's no point in being angry, who wants to be like the red guys all day long? You say so?"

With a humorous wave of his hand, he went so far as to start talking philosophy to Sicarius: "What do you think is the difference between a lie and the truth, Ultramarines?"

Sicarius answered it in his coldest voice, with deep hatred: "You don't deserve to talk to me."

Rotigues wasn't angry, he shrugged his shoulders with a fat rebound: "The lie is part of the truth, and the truth is different. The truth is the truth, without any falsification. Even if it's cruel and terrible.. ....that's what I read from one of your books. Not badly written, to be honest. If only he wasn't so afraid of me."

"Since you don't want to talk, I won't force it. Look at the sky, Ultramarine."

It smiled and said, "Just in time, I have brought the truth you need - a cruel, but a truth that allows you, civilians blinded by ignorance, to know the true face of the world."

Sicarius was overturned by Nurgling and placed on the ground. It just allowed him to see the sky. There was a glass dome on the top of the museum hall. At this time, through the transparent dome, Sicarius saw a scene that made him cold all over-the thick green clouds rolled endlessly, terrifying Acid rain falls from the sky.

He could even guess what would happen. This wasn't the first time he had dealt with Nurgle demons.

Rotigues said leisurely: "Father is very good, even if you don't love her, she is willing to bring you gifts. Life, and death. Lord of rebirth, the end of all suffering... "

The demon grinned again, laughing loudly, and the maggots spewed out of its mouth: "What do you think? Ultramarines, eh? That's good enough if I say it!"

Cato Sicarius clenched his fists, he wanted to say something. But when the words came to his mouth, he couldn't say anything. His consciousness is becoming more and more dull, and as time goes by, the burning pain in his body is also becoming more and more serious. Sicarius had an illusion—he felt like he was rotting.

The demon who called himself Father Rain looked down at him, and let out a deep groaning that only researchers have: "Well... the plague that that guy who is not good at learning is really bad, but this is really bad. It doesn't matter. We have no shortage of hotbeds now."

It pointed to the dark cloud very proudly and said, "Father Rain, Rotigues, will reshape your body and will on behalf of the loving father!"

"I'm against it."

A loud voice interrupted it. Father Yu frowned angrily. "Who is so impolite?"

Clanking heavy footsteps came from behind Rotigues, and a warrior clad in golden lightning stepped out of the illusion. He was very tall, with medals all over his old-fashioned power armor. That's also the source of the noise. He wasn't wearing a helmet, and the face that was becoming staring burned with unabashed hatred.

Two golden lights shot out of his eyes, causing Rotigues, who was looking directly at him, to scream in pain.

The warrior did not miss this opportunity. He drew a power sword from his waist and appeared in front of Rotigues almost instantly. The unadorned power sword slashed in a deadly arc, slicing deep into the fat around Rotigues' waist.

The body of the power sword burned with golden flames, and the foul-smelling grease was burned with a crackling sound.

The fat and ugly monsters waved their hands indiscriminately, and Nurgling screamed and danced around them, trying to attack the warrior with its claws, but could not get close to him at all. They just get a little closer and they'll be completely burnt to ashes.

Father Yu screamed in pain, no longer calm before: "What are you—?! What are you?! No, why can't I see it?!"

"I'm the end for you and the end for your master. Father Rain, isn't it? Ha, let's see if killing you will stop the rain. You bloody bastard, stinky bio-waste . A stone is worth more than you, at least they don't pollute the environment."

the soldier sneered. Then taking a step back, he drew his power sword. Turning the blade, rotating the blade, and drawing a perfect arc, Gutera's swordsmanship has seen the light of day again today. The blade spun gracefully, the sharp flower bloomed, and Rotigues' right arm was easily cut off by his extreme martial arts.

...Am I dreaming?

Sicarius stared blankly at what was happening in front of him, his sight had begun to become blurred, with colorful and beautiful colors. Therefore, he couldn't tell whether it was a fantasy in his despair or something that really happened.

The resurrection of the heroic spirit, how could I have such a dream?

"This is not a dream."

The warrior raised his hand, held his sword in one hand, and slammed the great impure person into the air with a fierce shoulder strike. Its fat body rolled down the long steps, leaving behind a disgusting yellow pus.

He turned around, his burning golden eyes full of fighting intent. He looked at Sicarius, stretched out his hand and pointed it away: "Stand up—the battle isn't over yet."

Sicarius' remaining hearing made him hear the words 'stand up', and he wanted to refuse and give reasons. However, in the next second, the golden flame burning from the surface of his body solved all problems.

The holy fire burnt away the disease in his body, and even reshaped the leg he lost. When the soldier saw this, he laughed arrogantly, and took out a long fight from his waist. The short knife threw it: "Next!"

Sicarius stood up like lightning and caught the dagger with precision. The feeling of weakness was gone, and nothing but complete health and strength remained. He even felt that he had been reborn - and this is probably not an illusion.

He did die once and was reborn once.

"Not bad." The soldier looked at him admiringly, nodded, and turned away.

He looked at the fat demon who was moaning in agony at the bottom of the steps, and shouted mockingly, "Isn't it possible to use your filthy evil spells? Ha! You poor creature, lie there and keep moaning, and keep doing Do your little things! Death is coming soon! Pray to your master before you die! Tell her that she will be killed by us sooner or later!"

Sicarius came to him, the warrior was much taller than him, and the second company commander had to look up at him. For a while, he almost lost the ability to speak. Sicarius asked like a nerd: "You... who are you?"

The soldier lowered his head and looked at him, his attitude became much gentler. He whispered solemnly, "Dead man, child."

He pointed at the top of his head with the power sword, and Sicarius looked up. The golden brilliance spanned the entire sky, forming a mighty collection, which firmly blocked the deadly acid rain. Just then, he heard the voice of a soldier.

"The dead . . . pay tribute to you," he said. "You did a good job, however, the manpower will run out. Now, here we are."

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Guilliman is rarely so emotional.

He raised his hand and put it down again. Five fingers folded and released, as if wanting to say something. But in the end, he couldn't say a word. The Thunderhawk gunship kept flying above the sky at a low speed, and the golden light shone on everyone's faces.

Diggles asked softly, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Guilliman replied, raising his head. "I rarely see such beauty, but unfortunately I'm not a poet, and I can't express my feelings in long ornate sentences."

"It doesn't have to be."

'Digris' smiled and blinked. Then, his head tilted and he almost fell to the ground. Fortunately, the magnetic boots firmly fixed him in place, and when he looked up again, he was the director of the think tank that Guilliman was familiar with. The blue psionic energy flickered in his eyes.

Diggles groaned and rubbed his temples. He said slowly, "The Primarch .