Warhammer: From Planetary Governor

Chapter 380 Savior: Hurry... Baal... It's over!

As the demon head moved, the black mycelium on the wounded body spread to the nearby three meters and kept wriggling.

That was the fallen Primarch of the 14th Legion Death Guard, the Death Lord Mortarion.

This Primarch, who grew up in the bitter cold land of Barbarus, was raised by an alien adoptive father, and hated Chaos demons and psychic energy. Driven by paranoia and jealousy, he studied the forbidden technology in a deeper level.

Later, Mortarion chose to surrender and completely throw himself into the arms of the loving father of Nurgle under the backstab of Typhus, his brother and father, and killed his own Primarch brother.

Mortarion was deeply loved by the loving father of Nurgle. I don't know if it was because of the lack of fatherly love or for some other reason, he even did such a filial act as competing with Typhus for favor.

After Mortarion joined Chaos, the loving father of Nurgle rewarded him with a plague planet.

However, he transformed the Plague Planet into a Barbarusian one, built a fortress on the top of a mountain covered with poisonous fog and miasma, and ruled over billions of slaves below, just like his former alien adoptive father, the Barbarus Overlord.

This rebel became what he once hated the most, and the shadow of the past never dissipated.

Over the years, Mortarion stayed on the Plague Planet and almost never went out. Now he tried his best to use witchcraft curses to meet his former Primarch brothers and talk to them.

This is a rare behavior.

Mortarion controlled the mutant corpse, and the regent's anger did not make him feel any threat. There was a hint of teasing in his hoarse and dull voice.

"My brother of noble birth, how did you become like this?"

Mortarion looked at Guilliman, and saw that his hair was dry and yellow and his face was tired, and he showed a hint of satisfaction.

How jealous he was of those brothers who were born with superior birth and were favored, but now they are worse than one another.

It's extremely sad.

Even the pearl of Ultramar has become a body that can only survive with alien machines.

"You are the same. I didn't expect you to become so ugly and crawl at the feet of the evil god of Chaos..."

The anger in Guilliman's eyes subsided a little, and instead revealed a trace of grief: "Motarion, have you forgotten that you were once a rebel? Where did your courage and determination go?!

What I see in front of me now is just a rotting corpse, a pathetic coward."

Ten thousand years have passed, and the once high-spirited Primarch and his children have lost their ideals and become half-human and half-ghost.

Isn't this a kind of sadness?

Mortarion seemed to be hurt by Guilliman's eyes and words, and his tone became gloomy and distorted under the ugly breathing mask, like a deep death knell:

"Yes, you look down on me, you all look down on me, the Primarch raised by aliens. You are born with superiority, have never experienced suffering, and do not understand the pain of fate.

You have never regarded me as a brother, even the cursed hypocritical man..."

Suddenly, his words were interrupted by a painful plea.

The voice seemed to be experiencing endless pain and despair: "Motarion, my son, I'm in so much pain, so much pain..."

Motarion was rarely furious and scolded: "Shut up, you alien!"

On the other side, he seemed to have done something again, causing the voice to scream more miserably and shielding the other party's voice.

That was the Overlord Barbarus who enslaved mankind and his alien adoptive father.

After Mortarion fell, he spent a thousand years to find the soul of his alien adoptive father.

Then he preserved the alien adoptive father's soul in a sorcery device and tortured him with unimaginable terrible diseases and poisons.

Guilliman looked at Mortarion and took a deep breath: "Emperor...Father, he never..."

Motarion seemed to have dealt with the matter over there, and put his attention back here, continuing to control the demon head.

"Father? Are you referring to the tyrant who was corrupted by power and immersed in his own power?"

The Death Lord sneered: "The tyrant is so hypocritical. He plotted to murder his son's adoptive father, and then he wanted him to be subservient and serve his power, and then he ignored him and abandoned him.

How ridiculous!"

He stared at Guilliman and continued:

"What did he do?

He deprived his son of his power, sat on the throne and did not care, let his son kill each other, and never helped.

Now he has become a deformed object polluted in the warp, and has become the thing he hates the most.

The end now is also deserved."

Motarion hated the Emperor.

Under the betrayal of Typhus, he and his gene-descended Death Guard fell into corruption and suffered extreme pain.

At the most tormenting time, he returned to Barbarus in a vision, climbed to his adoptive father's fortress with difficulty in the heavy poisonous fog, and was then knocked down and on the verge of death.

He relived all the sufferings he had experienced, but this time the Emperor would not come to save him.

Perhaps he had never been saved.

That was just a lie constructed by the hypocrites, a tragic drama staged to subdue him.

As a rebel, this Lord of Death worshipped power all his life, never surrendered, opposed chaos and psychic power, and wanted to become the strongest and most unstoppable strongman in the galaxy.

But reality proved that he was so cowardly that he could not save anyone.

Even himself.

So Mortarion collapsed.

In order to relieve the pain of the Death Guard, he chose to surrender, entrust his soul to Nurgle, and allowed himself to drift with the tide, becoming everything he hated most.

Now, he accepted it all, willing to serve Father Nurgle just as he had served the Emperor.

Molitaan controlled the mutated corpse and took a few steps forward, and the black hyphae spread further.

He said dullly:

"Perhaps the hypocrite's previous remarks were all false, and he deceived everyone. He likes all this very much and wants the power from subspace.

He longs to become a god and hopes to accept people's blind worship. Robert, do you worship this 'god'? "

"You should shut up..."

Such distortions made Guilliman angry, mixed with other emotions.

He ignited the Emperor's Sword, and holy flames burned.

The black mycelium screamed under the burning flames, and then withered.

Mortalion seemed to be a little afraid of the Emperor's Sword, and took a step back slightly, not wanting to lose this body.

His voice became softer, but still hoarse and hoarse: "Robert, that hypocritical person claims to be a god, puts all the responsibilities on you, and is arrogant.

But your hard work has no results. You are just like a clown moving around, but it has no effect.

The empire will eventually be destroyed..."

"If you're just here to talk nonsense, then this can be over."

Guilliman swung his sword fiercely, and the flames swept away most of the black corpses, and even the mutated corpse was half charred.

Mortalion felt a bit of pain, and more hyphae grew to fill his body:

"You should calm down, maybe you have to be grateful to me, because I am here to deliver a very important message to you.

A message from the front line..."

His cold, dull voice brought up the topic of concern to the Prince Regent:

"Your fleet was surrounded and ambushed in the Obscure Star Territory and is facing the crisis of capsizing. You have five months to save everything.

Of course, you can also continue to choose to support Baal.

But in this way, the war situation in the Obscure Star Territory will fester, and the surrounded fleet and all areas will be destroyed. "

After Guilliman heard the news, he froze on the spot and frowned tightly.

This is unknown news.

If the news is true, he will be faced with a painful and difficult decision.

Mortarion admired the regent's worried expression and observed the changes in him.

Thousands of years have passed, and he must know this brother better before he can plan the next step to complete the tasks assigned by Nurgle's loving father.

Humanity is doomed to extinction, Chaos will drag the entire galaxy into the depths of the Warp, and the gods will feast on the souls of every species.

But before that happens, they must capture more territory, or those soul-filled lands will become the kingdoms of other chaotic beings.

Father Nurgle took the ensuing erosion plan more seriously.

Therefore, he, the blessed and favored one, must be taken more seriously.

Mortalion came here this time to give Guilliman a choice and to see his tendencies under various factors.

Especially the attitude towards the Primarch of Hope, the Demon Eater.

This is crucial.

That will be related to whether the next plan will involve the Primarch of Hope.

Among the Chaos coalition forces that besieged the expedition fleet, there were no figures of Nurgle's loving father and beloved children.

Those beings who try to leave their loving father to enjoy that tempting piece of cake alone are obviously not allowed.

Fortunately, my loving father already had a more perfect plan.

If the plan succeeds, the income that can be obtained is enough to make other Chaos Evil Gods jealous.

"You may not believe it, but that is the fact. Maybe you will receive the news soon..."

Mortalion raised his hand and projected a picture.

The picture shows a battle group of the Second Fleet of the Indomitable Expedition. These ships were wailing under the attack of the Chaos coalition, and one ship after another was destroyed.

And more planets are already covered with fire, and human beings are distorted into even more tragic shapes under the raging chaos demons.

He looked at the regent's painful expression and felt even more comfortable.

"Robert, we all know that it is a difficult decision..."

Mortalion told the cruel truth unhurriedly:

“Both the war situation in Baal and the Obscure Star Territory is in danger, but judging from the current time, you can only choose one place to save.

Perhaps giving up Baal and giving up the Primarch of Hope would be a better choice.

Because the overall battle situation in the Hazy Star Territory is more important, involving more planets and human lives..."

As the Death Lord spoke, he prepared to project a scene of the tragic battle in the Baal Galaxy, in order to cast a heavy weight on the other choice.

This can further stimulate the regent and make him fall into a more painful and difficult decision.

Not long ago, Mortalion spent a high price of witchcraft to send a special rot fly to Baal, trying to use it to observe Baal's situation.

"I'm afraid the situation in Baal is even worse. We all know how terrifying those Tyranid aliens are. Maybe it's already on the verge of destruction."

He received the picture with great anticipation and projected it to appreciate the pained expression of the Prince Regent:

"Look, humans are wailing under the giant mouth of the Tyranids..."

However, the screen flashed for less than a thousandth of a second and was quickly extinguished.

"Impossible..."

Motarion quickly turned off the projection screen, and the ugly demon head he was controlling was shocked, his eyeballs almost popped out of his sockets.

Is that still Baal?

Is it a mistake in the intelligence? There was no war there, but what about the victory celebration?

The Death Lord looked at the joyous and festive scenes transmitted by the Rot Flies, as well as the huge celebratory statues, and fell into confusion.

He wondered if he had seen it wrong, and looked again with the help of the Rot Flies.

He finally admitted the fact.

Baal had changed dramatically. People were preparing for the victory of the war. There were many things and rituals that he couldn't understand.

Afterwards, the Rot Flies hit some kind of energy.

Completely turned to ashes.

The mutant corpse controlled by Motarion seemed to be still, and fell into a deep silence.

Perhaps he had stayed on the Plague Planet for too long, or perhaps the changes in the galaxy were too fast, and he couldn't keep up.

Now, the Death Lord felt embarrassed.

His carefully designed decision became a naked joke, without any effect.

The war in Baal had ended long ago, and the Regent did not need to go to support.

In the awkward atmosphere and Guilliman's puzzled eyes, Mortarion said dryly:

"You don't have to go to Baal."

Then, the black mycelium on the mutant corpse quickly shrank, and the demon head withered in an instant.

The whole corpse lost control and fell to the ground.

The death lord was offline.

There was no point in staying here.

The date given by the father Nurgle was approaching, and he had to hurry up to collect more intelligence and re-evaluate the entire plan.

Especially the impact of the important factor of the Primarch on the plan.

Perhaps the entire plan needs to be adjusted significantly!

"No need to go to Baal?"

Guilliman was a little confused about the sudden departure of the fallen brother.

He recalled the changes in the other party and thought: "Could it be that the war in Baal has ended, or the moment of victory has come?"

But that was obviously unlikely.

Moreover, everything Mortarion had just done might have been faked, just to deceive himself and delay the battle in Baal.

The Regent had been deceived and framed too many times by the Fallen Brothers and Chaos Demons, and had an instinctive vigilance.

He would not easily make a judgment before receiving accurate intelligence.

Guilliman called Felix and ordered him to pay attention to the relevant information of the Second Fleet of the Indomitable Crusade, and then turned and walked towards the Sanctuary area.

He needed more time to think about this matter.

...

Nine hours later.

Regent Sanctuary, Office.

Felix looked at the Regent with concern, but he did not dare to make any sound, so as not to affect the thinking of that being.

Just now, the Regent received a request for help from the Second Fleet of the Indomitable Crusade.

They sacrificed many astropaths to send this precious request for help here.

The fact is just as the Fallen Primarch said, the Second Fleet was surrounded and attacked by the Chaos Alliance, and under the fierce attack of Chaos, the front line was shrinking step by step.

If there is no support within five months, the entire fleet's front will be completely defeated, leading to a greater failure.

Guilliman sat at his desk, his brows revealing deep anxiety and fatigue.

He was caught in a difficult decision.

Should he continue to Baal or go to the Obscure Segmentum for support?

No matter which one he chose, it meant that he had personally abandoned countless lives on the other side.

Let them die.

That was not a good feeling.

And he didn't have much time left.

According to the calculation of the route, after one standard Terra hour, the fleet would arrive at a junction of the Warp, where there was the only opportunity to turn to the Obscure Segmentum.

It was also difficult to make other adjustments to the fleet in the Warp, and he had to make the final choice during this period.

Finally, Guilliman made a rational decision that the fleet would go to Baal.

According to the analysis of the data of both sides, Baal and the Primarch of Hope were more important to the Empire, and those rampant Tyranids must also be contained, otherwise they would threaten Holy Terra.

In addition to rationality.

The regent had to admit that he wanted to save his brother who was struggling to hold on.

After Guilliman gave the order to go to Baal, he closed his eyes tiredly.

War is always accompanied by difficult choices.

He had killed countless people in the name of glory and abandoned too many people, again and again.

He could only try to make all sacrifices valuable.

Suddenly, the communication machine not far away suddenly lit up and made a rustling sound.

After Guilliman saw the information on the control panel, he ran over as fast as he could to connect it.

Because the communication was sent by Brother Roan!

The regent was quite nervous and paid more attention to the situation in Baal.

Buzz~

The image of the half-body of the Hope Primarch was projected into the air, but it was blurred and distorted due to the interference of the signal.

But he could clearly hear some kind of roar and vibration over there, and there was thick smoke covering his body, obviously on a battlefield!

Time is precious.

Guilliman asked without any greetings, "Ron, given Baal's situation, does he need support?"

In the video.

Ron seemed to be suffering from some kind of pain. He stared at the projection equipment and frowned: "Hey, hey, hey, I can't hear you, the signal is a bit bad..."

After that, his voice was intermittently:

"Gee...brother, your side...the war...hurry...Bal...hiss...it's over!"

During this period, accompanied by some kind of roar and vibration, the screams of many space warriors were heard.

Guilliman could distinguish the voices of the Custodes he knew. Even the Custodes participated in the battle, and it was so tragic.

Barr's situation may be worse than he imagined!

The regent's heart was clenched, and he said anxiously: "Ron, you must hold on, I can reach Baal in three days!"

At this time, Ron seemed to have heard something and smiled.

However, before he could continue speaking, the signal was cut off, and the office fell into silence again.

At this time, the ship shook again, as if it had encountered some obstacle, and the warning showed that it was a Chaos attack.

"Chaos heresy!"

Guilliman gritted his teeth, his whole body exuding the fury of thunder, and he suddenly pulled out the Emperor's Sword and walked out.

Anyone who dares to hinder his journey to Baal will be unforgivable!

The regent led his warriors to fight in fury to clear out the Chaos Demons. The entire fleet also headed towards Baal's area in a precarious situation.

This time, he will never be late!

…

Meanwhile, Barr.

Bang——

Amidst the roar and vibration, champagne foam spurted out.

This is a savior's health water bath and health center. The savior leads many adults to come here to recuperate.

The attendants are opening champagne, and then pouring these precious wines into crystal glasses to serve to the adults.

An attendant bowed his head quietly and placed a glass of champagne on the table next to the Savior.

He did not dare to disturb this great being because the other party was conducting important communications.

Ron was lying on the alloy iron chair, with the dense water vapor almost completely blocking his body, and a communication machine floating in front of him.

Just now, the communications department finally contacted Regent Guilliman and transferred the signal immediately.

At this moment, Guilliman's image was projected in the air, looking as tired as ever. The other person's mouth was open as if he said something, but no sound came from it.

Then the roar appeared again.

The huge force coming from the soles of his feet made Ron feel painful, and he immediately frowned: "Hey~ Hey, hey, I can't hear you, the signal is a bit bad..."

The sound system of the communication module seems to be interfered with.

"What broken communication!"

This savior is quite helpless, but the opportunity to connect is precious.

He took every opportunity to elaborate on Barr's current situation, but the signals were still intermittent:

"Brother Guilliman, how is the situation on your side? Baal's war has been won and reconstruction has been restored. If you have nothing important to do, please come quickly to participate in the victory celebration.

This will not delay your time, but will actually help the overall battle situation. We have recently explored a new long-distance network route, which can reach major star fields faster.

I'll drive you on the highway then...

Hiss, it hurts. Come here quickly, otherwise we'll all run out of champagne! "