The strongest astral army in Warhammer 40K

Lord Grox's roar echoed through the wreckage of the Rotten Glory, his corrupted body twisting and deforming in the warp storm, the pus dripping from the Plague Scepter corroding the entire void.

However, what angered him even more than the destruction of the flagship was the golden figure flashing in the Ultramarines fleet—it was neither the cobalt blue glory of Macragge nor the silver sword of the Emperor, but a pure psionic energy he had never seen before, as if it could purify the corrupting power of Nurgle's Blessing.

“That mortal…” Grox’s single eye darted around in its decaying socket, replaying Russell’s image from the combat logs—an entrenching tool wreathed in golden arcs of electricity cleaving through the Plague Warrior’s corrupted armor, psionic grids surging into the engine room along the pipes, and even as the escape pod ejected, the faint image of Guilliman peeking out from the inside of Russell’s breastplate. All of this baffled Grox. How could a mortal possess such immense psionic power?

"Investigate!" His plague scepter slammed heavily on the ground, cracking the corroded deck to reveal countless writhing maggots. "I need to know everything about that mortal! His past, the source of his power, and..." His single eye gleamed with an eerie light, "His relationship with Guilliman."

Meanwhile, Russell stood on the observation deck of the Ultramarines flagship, golden arcs of electricity crackling at his fingertips to form Guilliman's tactical symbol. Cato Sicarius's twin swords were sheathed behind him, the cobalt blue armor still bearing the marks of battle. "Your performance today," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice, "will make Lord Guilliman proud."

Russell's golden arc of electricity flickered slightly, his voice carrying a hint of determination: "I am merely following the light of reason emanating from Lord Guilliman."

Astram suddenly said: "Be careful, brother. Lord Guilliman's honor is not for personal glory."

Cato Sicarius, however, dismissed the idea, saying: "Perhaps this is the Emperor's will, to allow a mortal to touch the Primarch's glory."

Russell did not answer. His gaze passed through the observation window, fixed on the dissipating warp storm in the distance. He knew that this battle was only the beginning; the Death Guard's flames of vengeance had been ignited, and the mystery of the golden psionic energy within him would become the focus of contention among various factions.

…………

As Cato Sicarius raised his sapphire-encrusted goblet at the victory banquet table, his cobalt-blue cloak brushing past Russell's shoulder, a gold cufflink bearing the Sicarius family crest quietly slipped onto the mortal warrior's tactical belt. "The rules of Macragge," his voice mingled with the aroma of red wine, "are that the spoils belong to the bravest warrior—even a monkey who loves to play with lightning."

Astram's silver sword suddenly flashed, the blade flicking away the cufflink: "The Grey Knights' allies need no noble charity." But as he sheathed his sword, a silver psionic suppressor bearing exorcism runes remained in Russell's palm—a gift from the Grey Knights to their Bloodsworn brothers.

The night sky of the Corrupted Starfield was tinged with an eerie purple by the triple moon. As Russell was wiping the Blooddrinker entrenching tool in the armory, he heard the distinctive hum of power armor behind him.

Cato's twin swords reflected the moonlight in the shadows: "Do you know why Lord Guilliman allowed the chapter to retain the Art Deco of the Great Crusade?" He suddenly ripped open the lining of his breastplate, revealing the Imperial War murals etched on the inside, "Because true power needs a beautiful exterior—just as your lightning needs that ridiculous shovel."

Although Cato Sicarius's words weren't very pleasant, Russell didn't mind and said: "It's a good treasure."

Three hours later, when Astram discovered Russell had filled the blank pages of the tactics manual with Guilliman's tactical symbols, the Grey Knight's mechanical eye flashed with an unusual temperature fluctuation. He tore off the confidential page containing the demon's true name and engraved Russell's name and the Grey Knight's insignia on his silver sword: "Remember, mortal, your soul now has two locks—the Emperor's sword and my oath."

A corrupting wind swept across the starport, and Lord Grox's plague detector suddenly shrieked—the energy readings on the screen showed that the golden psionic energy simultaneously carried the genetic mark of an Ultramariner and the psionic imprint of a Grey Knight. Excited pus oozed from the Death Guard Lord's single eye: "The Father will appreciate this gift…a living vessel flowing with Primarch blood."

…………

The essence of seven plagues boiled within Kugas's colossal cauldron, the corrupting steam condensing into countless agonizing faces in the air. Lord Grox's single eye flickered in the steam, and as his plague scepter struck the ground, pus splattered onto Kugas's rotting robes. "That golden man," his voice like the snapping of a rotting tree trunk, "his power belongs neither to the Emperor nor to Chaos. We must obtain him—or destroy him."

Kugas's massive hand churned the essence of plague, and Russell's image emerged from the steam—an entrenching tool wreathed in golden arcs of electricity cleaved through the plague warrior's corrupted armor, psionic grids surged into the engine room along the pipes, and even as the escape pod ejected, the faint image of Guilliman could be seen peeking out from the inside of his breastplate. "His soul," Kugas's voice dripped like pus, "was imbued with the fragrance of the Primarch. Perhaps, he was some kind of…experiment of Guilliman."

Grox's single eye gleamed eerily: "Whatever he is, we need a plan. In the next attack, we must destroy both the Ultramarines' fleet and that golden figure simultaneously."

Kugas's massive hand scooped a writhing mass of plague essence from the cauldron, and a new image emerged from the steam—a colossal fleet of plague warships and Nurgle demons pouring forth from the warp rift. "We will use the power of the seven Plague Cauldrons to tear apart the barrier of the real universe. Let the Ultramarines and Grey Knights struggle in the corrupted ocean, while we…" a cruel laugh lingered in his voice, "will personally capture that golden figure."

Grox slammed his Plague Scepter into the ground, cracking the decaying deck to reveal countless writhing maggots: "For the glory of the Father!"

Kugas's massive hand reached towards Russell's image in the steam, its corrupted fingertips lightly touching the golden arcs of electricity: "Soon, your power will belong to Nurgle."

Russell was unaware that he had been targeted by the demon Nurgle.

This is understandable, given that his golden spiritual energy is too dazzling, it's normal for him to attract attention. As for whether it's a blessing or a curse, that's hard to say.