Chapter 401

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Protagonist:

Lin En

Lena

The command was swiftly relayed, and the entire Tithe Fleet immediately sprang into action.

Warships anchored in synchronous orbit adjusted their attitudes one after another; the macro cannon turrets on their bows slowly rotated, training on the surface of Brevis.

Fighter groups slid out of the cargo holds, forming a picket array around the fleet.

Urgent alarms reverberated through the corridors of every warship, and red alert lights lit up in sequence.

Dominic stood before the porthole again, gazing at the planet faintly visible in the cloud layers below, feeling as though a boulder weighed on his chest.

He still clung to a last trace of hope.

Perhaps… perhaps things were not as he thought.

Perhaps Kaili had truly been deceived by his subordinates, merely confused for a moment.

He waited, waiting for that young man to come up and give him an explanation that made sense.

But he did not wait for Lin En's response; instead, another disaster arrived first.

"Alert!!!"

The Observation Officer's report suddenly tore through the gravity on the bridge.

"Strong Warp fluctuations detected in the Eastern Anchorage Zone — Spirit Energy Level… Spirit Energy Level is constantly expanding!"

"What?" Dominic whipped around, striding to the observation deck.

On the main screen, in the sector where the eastern fleet group was moored, the Warp began to destabilize.

The Star Speaker simultaneously issued a warning, sensing unprecedented fear and a Corruption Aura.

A massive rift spewing green miasma and flies was torn open in the Reality Universe.

Immediately afterward, a dozen-odd strangely shaped warships attempted to push out from the rift.

Those warships could no longer be recognized as Imperial hulls; their hulls were coated in thick dark-green mold spores.

The hull surfaces bulged with pustule-like Flesh Growth, and thick blood-vessel-like tissues coiled around cannon barrels and bridges, pulsing slowly with a breathing rhythm.

The once-sturdy bows had become bloated and rotten; viscous yellow-green fluid seeped from the portholes, and even the thruster nozzles sprouted jagged, tooth-like growths.

What spewed forth was not plasma flame, but a gray dense mist carrying a Plague aura.

The moment they contacted Real Space, the pustules and cysts on their hull surfaces began to contract, squeezing.

Then they erupted violently, flinging corroded fragments and filth into space, forming a filthy Contamination zone.

"Nurgle Fleet…"

Dominic's pupils trembled with shock.

He had never faced the Lord of Plagues' fleet directly, but in Imperial Navy textbooks, in battle reports from Fortress Worlds everywhere.

This image of rotten, bloated ships reeking of endless filth had long been etched into every officer's mind.

The Kindly Father's fleet.

The Bottom City's Plague — it truly had not appeared from nowhere.

Its source was undoubtedly this Chaos Fleet now drilling out from the depths of the Warp.

"Contact the fleet group in the Eastern Anchorage Zone immediately!" Dominic ordered sternly.

"Have them enter battle formation at once, isolate the infected ships!"

"Yes!" The Communications Officer operated at once, but his face soon turned ashen.

"Major General Adult, we can't reach them!"

"Most ships have lost response! Only — only the outermost escort ship still has a signal!"

"Put it through!"

The communication channel immediately crackled with broken static, mixed with the captain's terror-distorted roar.

"Major General, Major General Adult! We didn't contact them, we never made contact!" The captain's voice was pure collapse.

"Before they even appeared, the ship was already wrong!"

"Starting from the engine core it began to rust, spreading frighteningly fast, and then flesh grew under the rust…"

"All kinds of intestines, tumors, and things like eyes!"

"The systems went haywire too — cannon barrels moving on their own, hatches sealing themselves…"

"Crewmen started running fevers, skin breaking out in pustules — they're not human anymore!"

"The cruiser has completely lost control; it… it came alive, it's trying to attack you!"

The captain's roar peaked, then suddenly became a piercing shriek, accompanied by sticky writhing sounds and strange gurgling noises.

The communication cut off abruptly, leaving only harsh static.

The bridge fell into dead Silence.

Everyone was stunned by this bizarre scene.

Contact certainly hadn't happened just now; rather, something had brought the Plague to those ships.

But a disease that could infect machinery — this already exceeded all their understanding of Plague.

"Order!" Dominic recovered first, his voice carrying ironclad resolve.

"Relay my command: all warships near the eastern infection zone, concentrate fire immediately!"

"Destroy all infected friendly ships. Absolutely cannot let the Plague spread here!"

The order was passed down, but the nearby warships hesitated.

Those are friendly forces.

One second they were docked shoulder to shoulder, comrade warships; the next second they would have to personally destroy them?

The captains' hesitation lasted only a few short seconds.

But those few seconds of hesitation were already enough.

On the screen, those infected ships had already turned their bows.

From bloated, rotting barrels came no macro cannon roar, only sticky gray-green pus sprayed out at high speed.

Like the most disgusting thick phlegm spat out, splashing toward the nearest healthy ship group.

"Splat!"

The first glob of plague slime struck a escort ship's void shield, stirring up a patch of blue ripples.

The shield values did not drop much.

But it could be predicted that if these disgusting slime shells hit the hull.

Just one hit would be enough to infect and paralyze the whole ship.

"Major General Adult! Macro cannon array charging complete, all nearby ships requesting fire order!"

Just then, the voice of the officer responsible for liaising with each ship rang out, breaking the silence on the bridge.

Dominic took a deep breath, suppressing the discomfort surging in his chest, just about to order the entire left wing to assemble and prioritize destroying all infected friendly ships.

The comm station's secure frequency suddenly jumped, flashing red light urgent like a critical condition heartbeat.

"Major General Adult, it's Colonel Volken of the 'Flame Spear' Ship, priority secure line, says he has urgent military intelligence to report." The communications officer looked up, face carrying a few points of surprise.

"He says it concerns plague fleet tactics, must speak directly with you."

Dominic's brow furrowed slightly, the corresponding file flashing through his mind in an instant.

Volken Hawk, captain of the Mars-class battlecruiser Flame Spear Ship, colonel rank. Survivor of the Battle of Anvaheim.

That was a pursuit battle decades ago that could be called a disaster.

Menglong Star Domain's warships pursued a vastly outnumbered Nurgle plague fleet in the Kaidus Asteroid Belt.

But in the end, the last plague ship, before disintegrating, successfully delivered the Death Guard warband named "Rotten Choir" to the Navy's vicinity.

They cut off all the Navy's retreat routes, besieging the Empire's army in Anvaheim Planet's polar fortress.

The trapped Empire Army held out for three months in bitter winter and plague, and ultimately, in a three-year war of attrition, the Imperial Army was almost completely annihilated.

Survivors were less than one in a million, and most of those left behind incurable lifelong ailments.

Volken was one of them; his lungs were permanently eroded by plague, most of his respiratory system replaced by mechanical components.

Ordinarily he spends most of his time relying on life support systems to maintain breathing, staying year-round in a constant-temperature maintenance pod, rarely showing his face.

Dominic has an impression of this man; personality extremely steady, actions watertight; unless it truly reached a critical juncture, he would never proactively use a secure line to call above his level.

"Patch it through." Dominic said in a low voice.