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With a crisp "thud," Guilliman leaped from the Makrag Glory as lightly as a bird, landing steadily on the ground made of flesh and blood affected by an unknown pathogen.

His movements were elegant and decisive, as if this strange land was nothing more than an ordinary place for him to stay.

Following closely behind was the First Dalian Honor Guard.

They were dressed in magnificent blue and gold power armor, wielding storm shields and power swords, their expressions serious and alert.

Each step was taken with extreme caution, as if the ground beneath one's feet might collapse at any moment.

When their boots touched the unidentified green liquid, the liquid splattered, landing on the boots of the Ultramarines and their fathers, forming irregular green stains.

However, this did not affect their pace; their eyes remained fixed on their surroundings, not missing a single rustling sound.

Guilliman looked around; the scene before him was chaotic.

All sorts of bizarre creatures roam this land ravaged by pathogens; some resemble twisted plants, while others look more like mutated animals.

He casually swung the Emperor's Sword, precisely slaying some of the "little grasses" that tried to hide beneath them.

Just then, several scoundrels and those carrying the plague discovered these uninvited guests.

They were bulky and hideous, brandishing "swords" that resembled excrement, and charged toward Guilliman and his guards with firm steps.

However, due to their excessive obesity, their so-called "all-out charge" speed is not even comparable to a normal person's jogging.

Meanwhile, the Great Impure One in the distance also noticed what was happening. It walked slowly toward them with heavy steps, each step causing the ground to tremble.

Behind it, seven Nurgles were joyfully running towards Guilliman in a peculiar way—in their combined Nurgle form.

Without Guilliman giving any orders, all the Ultramarines, upon witnessing these blasphemous creatures, simultaneously pulled their triggers, unleashing a barrage of fire on the charging Nurgle demons.

Bombs and plasma weapons rained down on the disgusting monsters, instantly shattering their combined form. But they quickly reformed and continued their charge.

The Nurgle carriers watched helplessly as their companions were struck by explosive bombs and plasma swarms, but they merely scratched their heads, seemingly somewhat bewildered by the scene.

However, when they saw an Ultramariner reloading, they suddenly realized something, as if they understood something.

These hideous monsters immediately began to rummage around on their own bodies, then dug out some unknown germs and threw them at the Ultra Warriors without hesitation.

Despite being attacked by germs, Guilliman's pace was not affected in the slightest.

He took the lead, guiding the Ultramarines like a whirlwind towards the Nurgle Advent.

The first Dalian's thousand honor guards followed closely behind their genetic prototypes, resolutely stepping onto this road that was destined to be a one-way journey for them.

Meanwhile, the other Ultramarines were scattered across the planet, fighting desperately against the massive and terrifying Great Impermanence, trying to buy time and prevent these monsters from aiding the Nurgle Advent.

The Titan legion from the Martian Mechanicus, like a moving mountain of steel, stepped into this polluted land.

Their every step caused the ground to tremble, as if the land itself was shaking in anticipation of their arrival.

As the Titan Legion advanced, the massive divine machines roared deafeningly, as if raging against this polluted land.

These mechanical behemoths unleashed their boundless fury, blocking Nurgle's demonic engines in their path.

Faced with the overwhelming power of the Titan Legion, Nurgle's demonic engine had no choice but to temporarily abandon its advance and instead engage in fierce combat with the enemy.

In this chaotic battle, artillery fire and energy intertwined, and death and destruction spread.

However, in this unnoticed corner, some Space Marines burning with flames quietly appeared on the battlefield.

Their figures moved like ghosts, swiftly flitting among the enemies.

The Space Marines unleashed deadly fire from their bomb guns, killing Nurgle's demons one by one.

Surprisingly, these Space Marines' bomb guns never seemed to have had their ammunition changed; their firepower remained consistently powerful and stable.

Once the nearby enemies are annihilated, these Astartes will vanish like ghosts, as if they had never existed.

Guilliman fought his way through the battlefield, his target being the Nurgle's Advent.

Any great impurity who attempted to stand in his way fell to his Emperor's Sword, which shone with divine light and easily tore through the enemy's defenses.

Finally, Guilliman stood before the Nurgle Advent.

The Nurgle demigod, who was simmering a pot of new plagues, sighed helplessly as Guilliman arrived.

He looked at the "life" falling under the weapons of the Ultra Warriors, a trace of sorrow flashed in his eyes, and he shed a single tear that was greenish-black.

“You shouldn’t have treated them like that.” Nurgle put down his spoon, his voice filled with sorrow. “The cursed ones disturbed your mind. Those children just wanted to be your friends.”

"Life should be treated with kindness; fighting and strife should be avoided..."

“I can tell you’re not human just by looking at you!” A big, green-haired guy suddenly jumped out.

A group of green-skinned orcs suddenly ripped off their unsettling purple camouflage, and the leader was none other than Bare-Shouldered, who claimed to be the son of the Blue-Skinned Giant.

Then, amidst the stunned stares of the Honor Guard and Guilliman, these greens charged forward with a waaaaaagh. Bare-chested, holding a flaming longsword in his right hand and a Stormblaster in his left, stood atop a boulder.

"For muscle strength!"

"To make La Ge cry!"

"For the Five Hundred Worlds!"

"To get rid of Mao Zedong's third brother!"

“waaaaaagh!”

The war cries of the green-skinned orcs echoed through the sky like thunder, as if to tear the heavens apart.

However, Guilliman did not react to this at all; his attention was completely drawn to the burning hot handprint on his face.

At the same time, the green tide surged towards the Nurgle Descendant like a raging torrent.

These green-skinned orcs wielded various tattered weapons, but each weapon was painted with a pattern of an inverted toilet seat, as if it were their unique symbol.

Even the vengeful spirit, faced with this surging green tide, was unusually enraged.

Its once kind face was now contorted, and its eyes revealed a hint of anger at being offended.

Suddenly, it grabbed a handful of thick soup, which emitted a nauseating stench and had clearly undergone special modification.

Nurgle forcefully poured the thick soup onto the green-skinned orcs, as if a terrible plague had descended.

Those green-skinned orcs who came into contact with the thick soup instantly began to dissolve, emitting painful howls.

Surprisingly, this did not deter the Greenskins; instead, it fueled their fighting spirit even more.

The greens didn't stop their attack; instead, they became even more frenzied.

They rushed toward the Nurgle descent without regard for their own safety, shouting incomprehensible slogans.

"Third Brother Mao said we can have a happy waaaaaagh, and that Muscle Strength will thoroughly humiliate the Green Fatty!"

“waaaaaagh!”

Looking at the high morale of the Greenskins, Guilliman felt that he should have a question mark above his head at this moment.