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Mortarion said nothing, but he had to admit that Typhons understood why he was waiting here.
Recently, an eternal war veteran of the Black Legion found the Death Guard. He claimed that the Warmaster wanted to give the Demon Primarch a gift, so he hoped that Mortarion would wait at the current border of the Five Hundred Worlds.
This is why Typhons came. His idea is very simple, that is, if Abaddon is still alive, he should give himself the gift given to Mortarion, because he will spread the word of the All-Father more wholeheartedly than Mortarion. will.
The two waited quietly for a while.
Until a portal made of flesh and blood rose up opposite the two of them.
Seven veterans of the long war wearing Terminator armor walked out.
But just when Typhons thought he could see Abaddon, it was Vashtor who came out following the veteran of the eternal war.
This sub-god of the Warp drives the veterans of the ages like his own servants.
"Don't tell me you are Abaddon." Mortarion felt that he had been deceived and immediately turned to leave.
But Vash'tor raised a wall behind Mortarion, blocking his escape.
This is only to discourage, not to force.
If Mortarion is determined to leave, Vash'tor cannot stop him.
"If I didn't use the title of Warmaster, would I let you come here?" Vashtor said, glancing at Typhons.
Typhonse wanted to say something, but Vashtor ignored him and dismissed him as nothing.
This attitude made Mortarion very satisfied. He turned around and looked at Vashtor, who clearly understood who was the boss of the Death Guard: "You said you have a gift? Offer your gift."
Vash'tor nodded and raised his hand, an artifact that once belonged to Abaddon appeared in his hand.
The hand of darkness.
Originally used to control the Blackstone Fortress, this item's ability is far more than just a joystick.
Just the moment he saw the Hand of Darkness, Mortarion had many ideas for using this artifact to develop technological creations.
The plague is spreading across the five hundred worlds of Ultramar, but this spread is very inefficient. Even the worlds that have been ravaged by the plague will be saved by the arrival of the plague antidote.
This was unacceptable to Mortarion, the Daemon Primarch of Nurgle.
Mortarion now desperately needs a way to spread the plague more widely and weaken the Empire's defenses as much as possible, and this artifact gifted by Vash'tor will meet Mortarion's needs.
"I give the Hand of Darkness to the true leader of the Death Guard." Vash'tor walked towards Mortarion and offered him the Hand of Darkness.
The Daemon Primarch reached out and took it: "I have already thought of how to use this item to make my brother miserable."
Typhons glanced at the Dark Hand and the Gene Father. He wanted this thing very much, but since Vashtor insisted on giving the Dark Hand to the so-called true leader of the Death Guard, there was nothing Typhons could do. .
However, he did not leave immediately, but asked Vashtor his second concern.
"Is the Warmaster dead or alive?"
After hearing this question, Vashtor looked directly at Typhons: "Being alive, but more painful than being dead. Being dead, but being more sleepless than being alive."
"So Abaddon is of no use now," Typhons said.
Vashtor was silent for a moment and nodded.
Typhons took the Death Guards who came with him and turned around to teleport back to the battleship.
Mortarion began to study the derivatives of the artifact called the Hand of Darkness on the spot.
He couldn't make things immediately, but he could feel that he could use the hand of darkness to research more powerful plague creations, and then set off a wave of plague throughout the five hundred worlds of Ultramar.
"I can help you," Vashtor said.
Mortarion raised his head sharply. He believed that this lesser god whose power was technology could help him, but he had a question in his mind: "I thought you were loyal to Abaddon now."
"I am not loyal to anyone." Vashtor turned his head and glanced at the veterans of the eternal war. "They follow me just because they think I can help their war master resurrect. At least they think I can."
Mortarion had a good impression of Vash'tor.
This lesser god could tell who was the boss of the Death Guard. He just glanced at Typhons and then handed the hand of darkness to himself.
After thinking for a moment, Mortarion, whose affection for Vashtor doubled, agreed without hesitation: "Come, let's create a creation together that can turn the entire five hundred worlds into hell."
Chapter 528 Espando
……
Espando is an agricultural world.
Most of the planet's surface is wilderness, with most of the population living in cities on the western continent, and the rest living in large and small farms.
Thanks to the fact that rationality still exists in the Five Hundred Worlds, people on this planet live a relatively good life, with the average life span being about twenty-five years old.
This is not twenty-five years in Terran years, but about sixty or seventy years in Terran years, so life is quite long for people here.
In taverns in cities in the western continent, farmers who have finished their busy farming days will drive here to drink and chat. Recently, everyone is discussing a rumor.
"Have you heard about the raid on the border of Five Hundred Worlds?"
"It's just a rumor. Are there many rumors like this? I've heard this rumor a hundred times since I was a child, but none of it has come true."
"Who knows, the war probably won't reach us anyway."
"..."
People were talking about it, but only one person in the corner knew that the rumors were true.
"The war will soon reach here, and we will all be dead."
A man dressed as a mercenary stood up from the corner of the tavern and shouted desperate words to everyone.
When they heard this sentence, everyone was stunned at first, and then laughed sarcastically.
Even if the war reaches this point, Espando will not be over, because the flames of war often cannot burn Espando. Who would focus on a useless agricultural world?
If Espandor was a hive city and a fortress world, then being invaded would make sense.
"I just returned to the Five Hundred World, and I know what's happening outside!"
The mercenary continued shouting.
He told his origins, stating that he had been hired by a rogue trader and encountered enemies spreading the plague on the edge of the Five Hundred Worlds. Those people had just occupied a galaxy.
The mercenary also said that the rogue trader he was loyal to was called to the enemy commander. The enemy commander expressed his willingness to let the rogue go, but the rogue must spread the news that the plague army was about to arrive in the Five Hundred Worlds, and they clearly told Aspan More will be the first target.
After listening to this series of words, the people in the tavern gradually became serious.
This mercenary does not look like he is telling lies, and if the rumors are true, Five Hundred Worlds is probably still investigating.
Things involving war tend not to come to a quick conclusion.
It often happens that the defender only gets the news after the attacker has captured two or three systems.
The efficiency of the Five Hundred Worlds is already quite high, especially now that the Four Heroes and the Astartes have begun to manage the Five Hundred Worlds again, but the problem is that the Astropaths are not always that efficient, and the messenger ships based on the Dimension Engine The system is just beginning to be established.
But seriously, people are not willing to believe that Espando will become the enemy's first target.
In terms of military value, there are many worlds with military value near Espandor.
"Believe me, brothers and sisters, our world is definitely the primary target!" the mercenary continued to yell, "The Rogue Trader who hired me has already reported to the Governor."
"We must be vigilant."
"For the sake of Five Hundred Worlds, we should organize defense immediately."
"Those who live on the farm, you should bring your families to the city immediately!"
"..."
The mercenary yelled to persuade everyone, and some people left the tavern one after another.
Until finally a team of Ultramar auxiliary troops rushed into the tavern and interrupted the mercenaries' roar.
"Shut up!"
"Everyone sit back down!"
The auxiliary soldiers pointed their guns at everyone present, forcing these civilians to lie on the ground immediately as if they were forcing the enemy.
This was an unusual attitude, these soldiers simply treated everyone as an enemy.
After everyone was lying on the ground, an officer came out and said, "I'm sorry, but we have to do this. As long as you have completed the inspection, you can leave."
"What happened?" asked the mercenary who persuaded everyone to leave immediately.
A drone with the Tyron Sector logo detached from the pylon behind an Auxiliary soldier and flew around everyone, projecting a green beam to scan everyone.
When it was the mercenary's turn to be scanned, the officer raised his gun and aimed at the next person waiting to be scanned while answering the mercenary's question: "The Rogue Traders brought the virus to our world. The Governor's Mansion is now filled with zombies of the plague." !”
As soon as he finished speaking, the Tyrone drone paused in front of the mercenaries, and then continued to scan the remaining people.
Finally, the drone released an augmented reality image, and all people suspected of being infected in the tavern were marked in red.
The mercenary, as well as those who sat near him or were splashed by his saliva when he spoke loudly, were marked as infected.
The soldiers immediately pointed their guns at the infected people.
The mercenary was stunned for a second, and then suddenly drew his gun.
The soldiers thought the mercenaries were trying to resist, but when they were about to open fire they heard a loud gunshot.
The mercenary put the muzzle of the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger, shattering half of his head.
This mercenary was obviously a good man. He ran to the tavern and persuaded everyone in this crowded place to be aware of the coming danger, and persuaded the people scattered in the farm to come to the city, because this was his home planet.
Even though the Rogue Trader warned him that he was not allowed to publicize what they had encountered before meeting with the governor, the mercenary still came to do so at the risk of execution.
The mercenary drew his gun and committed suicide the moment he learned that he was infected. He did not want the soldiers to hesitate to kill him.
But this move brought greater trouble.
The mercenary with half his brain knocked out lay on the ground. His body twitched a few times and then stood up again.
Mosquitoes surrounded his body, and the mercenary who had turned into a plague zombie howled and pounced on the nearest person.
The soldiers immediately opened fire. The bullets broke the mercenary's hands and feet and penetrated his organs, but they did not curb his behavior at all.
Just as the zombie was about to bite the first person it caught, an Anglican priest in the tavern stood up and crushed the mercenary's head with his scepter.
The sacred object exerted far more power on the zombie than bullets, and the zombie was knocked down and motionless.
The soldiers did not immediately eliminate the remaining infected people, but only took the uninfected civilians out of the tavern.