Black Fortress.

The Blood God and the Changer of Ways had sealed off all the exits to the outside world. Crimson volcanoes and multicolored flames roared with furious intensity.

"This isn't fair… I am the Lord of Decay, the God of Rebirth…"

Nurgle, now reduced to a pitiful figure, had suffered a barrage of brutal blows. He watched helplessly as the Goddess of Life departed alongside the Savior. His heart sank into despair.

"Why… why did I lose to that Savior?"

The Savior was merely a lesser god. In every regard—divine authority, strength, even attitude—he was superior. Yet he had lost completely.

He couldn't even compete!

This was the first time since Nurgle had ascended to the ranks of high gods that he'd suffered such a grievous defeat and humiliation.

He was falling into depression. For once, he had taken things seriously… and the Savior made him lose so thoroughly.

Why… just why?!

"Because you stink, you're ugly, and you're the most disgusting existence in the entire universe! Gahahahahaha!"

The Changer of Ways avoided the plagues and poisons, morphing into a massive black raven perched atop a towering dead tree, mocking Nurgle with wild abandon.

Not a single ounce of respect.

He had personally witnessed a fellow Chaos God being reduced to a clown.

This dramatic scene delighted the god of chaos and mischief to no end. Even the pain from his earlier beating now seemed trivial.

The Changer of Ways recorded the moment, turning it into a vivid illustrated epic—lively, exaggerated, and full of flourish.

That book would be placed within the Hidden Library and become part of the eternal knowledge of the galaxy.

The story of the Plague God, the Goddess of Life, and the Savior would be passed down forever.

He even projected his masterpiece out for everyone to admire.

This ultimate insult caused Nurgle's mental defenses to shatter further. His hatred boiled.

But the Changer of Ways didn't care. Their divine authorities were fundamentally opposed. Reconciliation was impossible.

All in all, the war had been worth it.

He had helped guide events and harvested vast amounts of chaotic, discordant energy.

Everything had gone according to plan.

Well, except for the unexpected beating he took—but that too was, in a way, part of the plan. Harmless.

No matter what—

He had influenced the future, and that change would feed the Crystal Labyrinth.

"I am the true beneficiary of this war!"

So the Changer of Ways thought. Every injury he'd suffered from the Plague God would be compensated—and only made him stronger.

He then sensed the surging Bloodshadow.

The God of War had grown more powerful too. After all, war and slaughter were his very source of strength. And fighting powerful beings brought immense dividends.

And the play wasn't over yet. The Garden of Nurgle hadn't even started burning.

The Changer of Ways noticed even more shifts.

The trickster god couldn't help but burst into laughter at the thought of what was coming.

Gahahahahahaha!

The jet-black raven shrieked at the sky, its voice dripping with pure, savage mockery.

But halfway through the laughter—bonk!—he vanished with a squawk. Black feathers rained down.

The Changer of Ways had been swatted away by a rancid wooden ladle hurled by Nurgle, taking even more damage.

—

Garden of Nurgle — Withered Woodlands.

The Imperial army advanced swiftly, aiming to retrace their route out of the Garden of Nurgle and reenter realspace through a Chaos network node.

The Lord Regent of the Imperium held the Emperor's Sword in hand. His resolute face remained on alert, wary of a sudden attack.

He glanced to the side, at the Savior and the Goddess of Life, and frowned.

That xenos goddess was nearly glued to his brother, whispering who-knows-what.

This didn't sit right with him.

Maybe he should remind his brother to beware of deception or traps.

After all, gods of the Warp were masters of manipulation.

"Ahem~"

Guilliman gave a light cough, trying to find the right words.

"You alright, old Gil?"

Eden turned his head away from his conversation with Isha, concern on his face. "Perfect timing. I just got my hands on some of the Goddess of Life's healing medicine. It should help ease the toxins in your system."

With a wave of his hand, Eden used his psychic power to float over a vial of pale green liquid, filled with a potent life force.

Guilliman stared at it with a flicker of hesitation.

But under his brother's expectant gaze, he ultimately drank it down. After all, Eden had already inspected it.

Upon consuming the potion—

Guilliman felt the poisons within his body begin to fade. His body relaxed. The pain was nearly gone.

Such was the power of the Goddess of Life.

Even the rotten poisons brewed by the corrupted Phoenix Lord were nothing in the face of her purifying power.

Even toxins from some forbidden artifact weapons—she could neutralize or even heal them entirely.

Seeing the Regent regain his health, Eden smiled.

"Once we get out of here safely, we'll have her fully heal you."

"Thank you. Both of you."

Guilliman nodded, letting it go for now. He'd find a better time to talk to Eden later.

In truth, Eden didn't need the reminder.

He actually found the Goddess of Life kind of annoying.

She was like a strange fusion of "big sister" and "loli" energy—a timeless elven goddess who'd been imprisoned for eons, cut off from all contact.

Now that she had someone who saved her, she clung to him, timid and desperate to not lose him again.

And to top it off—she was a pure-hearted saint, a holy flower among weeds.

Eden, on the other hand, was playing the role of a scumbag. Making promises, earning her affection… and looting all her stuff.

He was now "safekeeping" much of the Goddess of Life's treasures.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Isha tilted her head up to him and asked, "Do you truly mean to save my children?"

Upon escaping her prison, she'd immediately sensed the dire state of her people—the Aeldari. They were on the brink of extinction.

Slaanesh had fixed his gaze upon their souls, corrupting and consuming every spirit that hadn't found refuge in a soulstone.

Their new god hadn't yet fully awakened. No one could protect them.

"Of course!" Eden replied without hesitation.

Isha had helped him immensely, and many future plans required her aid.

Besides, better to keep her happy for now.

Besides, an alliance between the Imperium and the Aeldari was already the galaxy's trend. Even Yvraine, one of their leaders, had been exchanging flirtatious glances with Guilliman.

If not for the Aeldari—

Old Gil might still be a corpse, and the Imperium would've spiraled into irreversible darkness.

Right now, the two endangered species were huddling together for warmth.

Whether they'd later split apart, wage war, or even annihilate each other—that was a question for another day.

Eden didn't harbor blind hatred toward xenos. Nor did he seek their total extermination. What he wanted more… was conquest.

Unless they refused to submit—then he'd kill them without mercy.

In his mind, lying low and building strength was the correct path. The strong shouldn't mind the existence of the weak—they needed someone to exploit, after all.

As long as they didn't cause trouble.

Plus, there were too many enemies in the Warp. He had to unite any forces he could.

And beyond the galaxy… were even more terrifying threats, watching and waiting.

The human situation might look like it was improving, but the entire galaxy was charging toward the abyss. No one knew when the next fatal catastrophe would strike.

Eden accepted another of Isha's life artifacts, while silently worrying for the galaxy's future.

After the Plague War, the Chaos Gods might quiet down for a while. He had to use that time to grow stronger.

To build a foundation for humanity's future.

"Eden…"

Suddenly, Isha grew anxious again, clinging tightly to the Savior's arm. Her soft snow-white chest was squished out of shape.

She sensed a looming crisis.

Eden was speechless.

Why was this goddess so jumpy? Was she just using it as an excuse to cop a feel?

He knew full well—he, the pure and noble Chosen of the God of Sensual Sin, was basically a walking incubus to some entities.

Even Slaanesh drooled over him. What's out of reach is always the most desirable.

He even wondered if Isha was playing him—maybe she wasn't a holy saint, but a master manipulator wrapped in purity?

Who could resist that combo?

At the same time—

Eden and Guilliman both felt the familiar presence of a Chaos being.

"Surprised to see me, brother?"

Mortarion's cold voice echoed forth, tinged with unconcealed excitement. "I'm back—and stronger than ever. Perhaps I should thank you both for that."

The corrupted Primarch's aura was now far more potent. He felt invincible.

Due to the chaos in Nurgle's garden and Isha's escape, the Plague God desperately needed stronger warriors to restore balance.

So Nurgle granted Mortarion an abundance of blessings and divine authority—far beyond what he'd originally promised.

In short—though Mortarion lost, he got more rewards.

Now his corrupt energies surged wildly. He could even harness the full power of Nurgle's Garden.

He was at his peak.

Bong— the death knell rang out.

"You've already used your only weapon capable of defeating me. Now, nothing can threaten me."

Mortarion raised both hands high. Sorcery and dark power swept forth. The corrupted plants within the garden went berserk—growing, merging, transforming—

—into horrific bioweapons.

Nurgle's daemons surged down the path cleared by the writhing plants, charging toward the Imperial forces.

"You all go ahead—I'll hold him off!"

The Lord Regent ignited the Emperor's Sword and charged straight toward the Death Lord—undaunted and unwavering!

The appearance of Mortarion meant reinforcements were imminent. The Plague Father would surely unleash all his strength.

He had to stall them—for the Savior.

BOOM BOOM BOOM—

Guilliman's Hand of Dominion launched all of its sacred ash grenades, enveloping Mortarion, and followed with a fierce sword strike.

"Alright, he's yours!"

Eden didn't hesitate. He spun on his heels and ran, dragging the Goddess of Life toward the exit. No point in second-guessing now.

But after only a few strides—

BOOM!

Guilliman's body came flying back, crashing into the ground and carving out a massive crater.

"I told you—you are no match for me."

Mortarion hovered in mid-air, spectral vines tethering him to the Garden of Nurgle itself.

At this moment, he was the garden. To fight him was to fight Nurgle's very essence.

The power gap was overwhelming. Even a Primarch had no chance.

Mortarion sneered, "You weaklings cannot escape me. Hand over the Goddess of Life, kneel, and accept the gift of rot!"

Then he turned his gaze to Eden. "As for you—you must die. That is the Father's decree."

"Slave of Chaos! Dream on!" Guilliman roared, picking himself up and swinging his sword once more.

Mortarion easily blocked the strike and kicked him away in contempt.

"Old Gil… maybe time for another hit of meds?"

Eden used his psychic power to lift the battered Guilliman, who was drenched in Chaotic energy and bleeding heavily.

He wasn't too worried.

The Lord Regent was doing fine—just warming up.

"I'm alright," Guilliman wiped the blood from his lips and downed another batch of healing and purifying elixirs.

"Alright?" Mortarion laughed coldly. "Your struggle is meaningless. No matter how many times you try, the result is the same. Even your father—that decaying, rotting skeleton—can't save you."

He spat with venom, "He's a failure, a pathetic prisoner who can't even move a finger. One day, I'll march to that wretched throne, spit on his bones, and crush them underfoot."

Mortarion radiated overwhelming power as he mocked both the Regent and the Emperor.

"Mortarion."

Eden called out suddenly, eyeing the Death Lord with a strange mix of emotion—even pity.

Mortarion remained proud, but that look enraged him.

"Savior, you pathetic poser, are you so eager to die?"

"Ahem. I just wanted to remind you… your dad can hear you right now."

"…What?!"

Panic flickered across Mortarion's face.

This corrupted Primarch had never truly shaken the weight of paternal authority—whether from his xenos foster father, the Emperor, or now Nurgle.

He had always obeyed the command of a father figure, even if he denied it outwardly.

His betrayal had stemmed from despair. When he was caught in Nurgle's illusions and corruption, the Emperor never came to save him like before.

He felt abandoned—so, to save the Death Guard, he accepted the plague and gained a new "father."

"So what if he hears me? The False Emperor is nothing but a pile of bones," Mortarion muttered, a flash of shame in his eyes. "He can't do anything. He can't save anyone."

"You're wrong."

Guilliman slowly raised his head. His armor hummed with life. Arcane machinery accelerated within.

His eyes glowed with pure white light, and the plague taint burned off his flesh. His heart beat anew.

His Armor of Fate began to self-repair in a miraculous transformation. Cables reconnected, trim gleamed.

Golden light poured out of every seam.

BOOM—

A column of light erupted from the rotten earth.

The Lord Regent rose within it. Two radiant wings of light spread from his back. In his hands, the Emperor's Sword blazed like the sun.

"My father spoke to me. He granted me his power."

Guilliman stared down at Mortarion. "Did he not say anything to you, my fallen brother?"

The cursed light was so intense that Mortarion had to shield his eyes. His voice trembled, "…Father?"

In that moment, the fallen Primarch looked like a child caught committing an unforgivable sin.

Guilliman's voice thundered with divine authority:

"I am his son. His champion. I am the Son of Vengeance. I wield his divine might."

Eden, watching Guilliman fully lit up with divine effects, was thrilled. "Yes! Here it is—the classic scene! Time to burn!"

Just as he hoped, the Emperor had empowered Guilliman at the crucial moment.

The land around them began to churn.

"No… It can't be! Why is he here?!"

Inside the Black Fortress, the conflict among the Chaos Gods halted instantly. Three small portals opened—gods peered through them, watching in uneasy silence.

Tension rose.

If the Emperor's divine power could freely appear in the Warp, it would be a problem.

"Forgive me… Father…"

Mortarion retreated in fear. The fallen Primarch trembled before that presence.

"You traitor!"

Guilliman advanced step by step, his voice no longer human. "You destroyed everything you could've become. But you are just a monstrous victim. Father says you can still return."

"But I will never forgive you."

"HEAR ME!"

Guilliman's voice exploded across the field. Flames roared from his sword, burning space itself.

"I am Roboute Guilliman! The last loyal son of the Emperor! I am the destroyer of all enemies of Mankind!"

He raised the Emperor's Sword high. Flame surged like tidal waves.

It devoured everything. Corruption was burned away. Nurgle's daemons shrieked and died.

"…Something's off…"

Eden frowned as he looked at the blazing Regent. "Wasn't this supposed to burn the garden? That fire's… kinda small. Barely stronger than the Tsar Bomba. Maybe even weaker?"

Could the Divine Core back at the Savior's realm have overdrawn the Emperor's power?

Didn't seem likely.

Last time, His wrath was huge.

Eden dug deeper—and finally realized the truth.

The Emperor hadn't possessed Guilliman. He had simply granted him a powerful blessing—like what Nurgle had done for Mortarion.

Power and authority, not direct control.

Clap clap clap!

The portals in the Black Fortress slammed shut. The Chaos Gods understood now, and relaxed.

Not a big deal. They could continue their war. The vortex of warp energy resumed its swirl.

—

Burning Withered Woodlands

"You cannot escape!"

Guilliman slashed down, severing Mortarion's rotting wings and following with a strike to his head.

But it was blocked.

Before the portal closed, Nurgle had granted Mortarion one last boost—to keep him from dying immediately.

But that was the limit.

"He didn't come himself. You can't kill me!"

Mortarion gritted his teeth, barely holding on. Still stubborn: "I told you. He's just a prisoner. He can't move!"

As long as the False Emperor didn't show up, he still had hope.

While the two Primarchs dueled—

Eden led the core forces, escorting the Goddess of Life toward the outskirts of the Garden of Nurgle.

He was puzzled. "Wasn't the Emperor in a rush? Why isn't he burning this place down?"

Or perhaps—

A greater threat loomed, one that required Him to conserve power.

After all, whether He possessed Guilliman or descended through the Divine Core—it required immense, one-time energy expenditure.

Eden's thoughts turned grim.

If the Emperor didn't possess Guilliman, then the only option left was the Divine Core. He wasn't sure it would work.

It was theoretically viable—but had never been used in practice.

He quickly gave orders to Carter and the Thunder Warrior Champions: guard the Divine Core at all costs.

It was their last trump card.

Just as Eden finished the transmission—

He felt a familiar, terrifying presence.

Slaanesh.

The perverse god of debauchery, indulgence, and unashamed lust turned his gaze upon them—greedy and unrestrained.

"I knew it!"

Eden stepped protectively in front of the trembling Goddess of Life. "That damn perv just won't give up. Still wants to take her back."

But the next moment, he froze.

Because all of Slaanesh's attention locked onto him.

Drooling. Visibly.

Oh no. He's coming for ME!

"Activate the Divine Core! NOW! IMMEDIATELY!"

Eden panicked. He was still inside the Warp. If Slaanesh got a hold of him, he'd be whipped alongside Isha and Fulgrim.

But—

The Divine Core refused to start.

Maybe Nurgle's corruption had damaged it. Or maybe the machine spirit was just… pissed.

It wouldn't ignite.

"Really? This is how I lose my mind?"

Eden stood there, stunned.

Then looked up…

…and saw a muscular, completely naked Emperor floating in the air above him.

(End of Chapter)

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