Led by Kasim, the Terminators were like the Empire's sharpest living battering rams.
They seized fleeting opportunities to launch short, deadly assaults on the most threatening enemy clusters or newly emerging abominations on the battlefield.
Heavy footsteps echoed with a dull "thump! thump!" on the corrupted, muddy ground, like war drums.
The very earth seemed to tremble.
Power Fists, wreathed in the pale blue glow of a disintegration field, could smash several walking corpses into splattered pulp with a single blow, or pound a well-equipped Plague Warrior, along with his equally decayed Power Armor, deep into the mire.
Storm Bolters spewed devastating barrages at close range, sweeping paths clear like a storm of metal.
Each advance of the Terminator squad plowed a charred trench, burning with holy purifying flames, across the defiled ground.
This not only efficiently eliminated enemies but also painstakingly expanded valuable footholds for the landing zone.
The Terminator squad, like mobile fortresses, greatly alleviated the pressure on their other brothers along the defensive perimeter.
During breaks in the charge, Kasim would rapidly scan the entire battlefield via his tactical data-link.
He would share the coordinates of newly discovered, high-priority threats in real-time with heavy weapon squads or company fire support teams in the rear.
This ensured that the Emperor's wrathful bombardment could seamlessly link up, forming a deadly crossfire net.
"Techmarine! Establish a front-line communication relay! Call the Gabbro immediately! Request orbital fire support! Coordinates Lambda-9, cover that boiling swamp area on the left flank of the landing zone! Repeat, Lambda-9! There are massive numbers of walking corpses crawling out of the mud, and… By the Emperor! Wait, there are big ones appearing!" The roar of the Fifth Company Sergeant Major exploded in the company communication channel, drowning out the surrounding din.
As he roared, he used his Bolter to deliver a textbook-perfect three-round burst, blasting the swollen, deformed head of a Plague Warrior who was attempting to aim his pus-sprayer into a burst of rotting flesh and shattered bone.
His warning was confirmed before he even finished speaking by a more intense, more nauseating, and almost tangible wave of unholy psychic pressure—the soul-rotting stench emanating from powerful Chaos Space Marines.
Just at the edge of that massive, corrupted swamp on the left flank, bubbling with viscous yellow-green liquid, several colossal, twisted figures, radiating despair and decay, slowly emerged from the foul mud and miasma, their heavy steps making the earth groan.
Merely sensing their presence was enough to make the fire of hatred, representing humanity's fury and the Emperor's abhorrence, burn fiercely in the chest of every Ash Knights!
These abominable creatures were once the Emperor's angels, the pinnacle of human genetic engineering—Astartes Monks.
Now, they had completely degenerated into the most hateful core minions of Nurgle's putrid garden—they were the Oathbreakers of the Ulcerated Claw warband!
The sight that met the Ash Knights' eye lenses was the embodiment of faith and glory utterly defiled, the deepest desecration suffered by the Gene-Seed Primarch's sacred bloodline!
Their remaining Power Armor was no longer a symbol of protection and strength, but was completely covered and consumed by deep green rust-cancer, viscous filth, and tumor-like growths that constantly writhed and proliferated like living tissue, with the former Aquila outline and loyalty-symbolizing paint schemes completely gone.
Every seam of their armor continuously oozed nauseating yellow-green pus, dripping onto the mud with a sizzling, corrosive sound.
Those paint schemes that once symbolized loyalty and victory were now covered by malicious plague runes, festering sores, and blasphemous Chaos eight-pointed star markings.
Their bodies were severely swollen and deformed, completely abandoning the sacred human form.
Some had arms as thick and twisted as the gnarled knots of ancient diseased trees, ending in massive Plague Power Claws dripping with highly corrosive slime or buzzing, rust-stained, blood-soaked Plague Chainsword.
Others had backs grotesquely humped with pulsating, enormous boils, within which the outlines of deformed limbs could be vaguely seen churning in pus, like twisted incubation sacs.
Even more abhorrent were their helmets, which had completely fused and grown together with the rotting, oozing faces beneath, exposing several murky, multi-faceted eyes glinting with inhuman malice, or a massive maw split to the ears, drooling foul saliva, and filled with jagged fangs, emitting wet, unintelligible gurgles.
A suffocating miasma, almost solid, a mixture of highly decomposed corpses, putrid entrails, and the sickly sweet smell of virulent plague, billowed and spread around them like a tangible cloud of pestilence.
Even after passing through the Power Armor's most rigorous filtration systems and suppressed by the Astartes' superhuman will, the invisible filth was enough to sting the nerves and churn the stomach.
This was not merely visual and olfactory pollution, but the most thorough and malicious blasphemy and mockery of the Emperor's creation and the sacred mission borne by the Astartes Monks!
Every Ash Knights' chest heaved with extreme pure rage and burning abhorrence.
Their tightly gripped Chainsword hummed a higher, more ravenous death-drone due to the murderous intent infused by their masters, as if thirsting to drink traitor blood!
"Look! The Emperor's… lackeys!" A fallen one, whose head was deeply sunken into a massive, tumorous shoulder plate, let out a low, gurgling laugh filled with mucus bubbles, his voice like a necrotic bellows drawing air.
He wielded a massive Power Axe wreathed in foul, dark green psychic energy and dripping with corrosive pus, its blade pointing at the ready Terminators.
"You… refuse Father Nurgle / Nurgle's… blessings! Embracing… decay… is… eternity!" he roared.
The massive axe, carrying a putrid wind and blasphemous power, fiercely cleaved towards the Terminator Commander at the very front!
"For the Emperor! Purge the Oathbreakers!" The Terminator Commander's voice exploded from his helmet's vox-caster in a thunderous roar, overriding the fallen one's blasphemous words.
He met the attack without fear, his Power Fist's disintegration field instantly activating to maximum power, emitting a tearing shriek and high-frequency hum as it violently collided with the blasphemous great axe!
A deafening clang of adamantium, accompanied by the ear-splitting shriek of the disintegration field and Chaos psychic energy eroding and annihilating each other, exploded!
Pale blue purifying light and foul, dark green evil energy violently clashed, spewing forth eerie and dangerous sparks.
The immense impact caused the Terminator Commander's mountain-like steady body to sway slightly.
The rocks beneath his feet shattered under the pressure.
The fallen one's arm, thick as a pillar and covered in growths, also trembled violently.
A noticeable chip was blasted open on the axe blade by the disintegration field.
Viscous, foul-smelling pus splattered out like a living thing.
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