Chapter 421

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Protagonist:

Lin En

Lena

William knew Jensen was telling the truth.

The horror of Chaos has never been those powerful demons and various monsters, but its corruption of the soul.

Once these "sources of infection" reach the street districts, burrow into the ventilation ducts and underground pipe networks, it would take no more than a few days for the entire Middle City to possibly turn into a nest of monsters.

But thinking of the tens of millions of civilians inside, who came from the Bottom City just like him, his heart felt as if it were pressed down by a boulder.

"... Then what do you say we do?" After a long silence, William asked in a low voice, handing over the command token of Command Authority.

"I'll listen to you."

Bishop Jansen took the token, without a single word of nonsense, and began deploying on the spot.

"Have elite personnel mixed in, divided into nine Purification Squads, one hundred men per squad."

"Each squad is assigned five Combat Pastors, twenty Combat Nuns, thirty Exorcist Attendant Monks, the remaining slots filled by elite infantry of the Iron Guard Legion."

"All equipped with Tiberium flame weapons and Purification Ammunition."

"Pastors maintain Purification Litany chanting throughout, Nuns responsible for frontal assault, Attendant Monks break witchcraft traps, Iron Guard soldiers provide fire suppression."

His voice was not loud, yet carried a reassuring power; each order clear and decisive, clearly he had long since mastered this sort of purge operation by heart.

"Sergeant William," he looked at William.

"History has proven to us countless times that momentary kindness is often the source of greater disaster."

"I hope you can understand."

William could not have reached this position without understanding; he nodded, and did not answer further.

Soon, nine fully reorganized Purification Squads were simultaneously in position outside the nine factories.

Bishop Jansen stood at the highest Temporary Command Point, his Scepter striking down heavily, a golden aura of faith flowing down along the staff:

"The Emperor's gaze is with us."

"Remember, the monsters inside were once also human kin; they are victims bewitched by Chaos."

"Our duty is to end their suffering, burn the filth of Chaos, and protect the hundreds of millions of citizens behind us."

"Find the Sacrificial Altar, destroy it; this is the only way to break the deadlock."

"Action!"

"Bang!!" The concentrated fire of Thermal Cannons instantly burned through the side wall of the Type C factory, scorching molten metal flowing down along the breach with a sizzling sound.

The Captain of the First Purification Squad, Combat Nun Cecilia, was the first to charge in, her Bomb Gun instantly spitting fire tongues, blasting two lunging Chaos Waa'ghs backward.

"Maintain formation, Pastors in the center, watch both sides!"

The squad filed in; the moment they stepped into the factory, everyone instinctively frowned.

The air was thick with heavy blood stench and rot, like rotten fruit mixed with entrails, rushing straight into the nasal cavity.

Even more troublesome were the omnipresent Warp Whispers, like countless insects drilling into ears, repeatedly tempting the desires and fears deep in the human heart.

"The Emperor above, His light dispels darkness, His holy fire burns away all filth..."

The Combat Pastors in the center of the squad immediately began chanting the Purification Litany, their low solemn voices like a warm protective membrane, drowning out the fragmented whispers.

Golden faint light emanated from the Holy Relics held by the Pastors, enveloping the entire squad; the humming in everyone's ears immediately lessened by more than half.

The factory interior was even more gloomy than it looked from outside.

The lighting system had long since paralyzed; only the searchlights on the soldiers' helmets pierced the darkness.

Where the light beams swept, all were corpses lying in blood pools, twisted flesh and severed limbs, and dense Chaos Runes on the walls.

On the ground, on the beds, inside the passages, everywhere wandered Chaos Waa'ghs.

Some still retained mostly human form, only their skin tinged blue-green, claws sharp.

Some had already completely twisted, grown multiple limbs and hideous mouthparts; smelling the breath of the living they roared and pounced.

"Open fire!"

The roar of Bomb Guns rang out continuously in the enclosed factory, dense Purification Bullets precisely striking the Waa'ghs' heads, exploding into clusters of blood mist carrying Holy Light.

Tiberium Flamethrowers sprayed long fire tongues, burning groups of Mutants into charcoal; burnt smell mixed with meat fragrance spread out.

The advance seemed smooth, yet the alarm bells in Cecilia's heart grew tighter and tighter.

Too quiet.

Apart from the monsters' roars, almost no sounds of the living could be heard.

Until the squad reached the corner of the second corridor, a sudden change occurred.

A young man sitting against the wall, originally hugging his head and shrinking there, trembling all over, looked like a survivor scared witless.

An Iron Guard soldier seeing this merely paused to watch for half a second, when the man abruptly raised his head.

Half his face had melted, one eye turned into a dark blue vertical pupil, the other still retaining human appearance, mouth corners split to the ear roots, revealing a strange smile.

"Hehe, welcome to the Lord of Change's Paradise!"

Before his voice fell, his body suddenly swelled, ribs piercing through skin and flipping outward, turning into two rows of sharp bone spurs.

The whole person split open on the spot, turning into a monster with an upper body resembling a "Venus flytrap", roaring as it pounced on the nearest soldier.

The soldier caught off guard had his Power Armor chest plate sliced open by the bone blades, fresh blood instantly gushing out.

"Damn it!"

Cecilia flipped her wrist, Chain Sword activating with a hum, rushed up and cleaved it into two "spare ribs" with one strike.

But this was only the beginning.

In the rooms on both sides of the corridor, in the ventilation pipes, on the steel frames of the ceiling, within these more concealed corners, "survivors" constantly sprang up.

Some of them could still speak complete human words, crying and shouting "save me," then suddenly attacking when you drew near.

Some lay on the ground groaning in pain, yet their bodies were quietly undergoing chaos mutation, waiting for you to lower your guard before fiercely pouncing.

Most hateful of all, the Chaos Cultists in the darkness kept constantly activating witchcraft.

Those civilians who had not yet fully mutated, still retaining a trace of reason, like manipulated marionettes, roared as they charged at the Purification Squad.

They held steel pipes, wrenches, even broken glass in their hands, eyes full of tears, yet their bodies charged forward uncontrollably, like a group of pitiful dolls.

"Don't, don't come over..." a young Iron Guard soldier hesitated, the hand gripping the bomb gun trembling slightly.

The one charging over from opposite looked to be only a dozen or so years old, a child whose face still bore undispelled childishness, yet was controlled by witchcraft to lunge over holding broken glass.

"Don't hesitate!" Cecilia shouted sternly, stepping forward and striking that person's head with an elbow, sending it flying.

"Their souls have already been tainted by Chaos; ending their suffering is the greatest kindness to them!"

But reason everyone understands; to actually pull the trigger against one "human face" after another is a torture of the mind for every soldier.

The Warp's whispers kept constantly drilling into eardrums, amplifying the wavering and guilt within the inner heart.

At the team's edge, soldiers had already begun to experience hallucinations, hands gripping guns unable to stop trembling, gazes becoming dazed.

Even worse, the Tzeentch Wizards in the darkness kept constantly summoning new demons.

Pink Fear Demons faintly appeared in the shadows, from time to time throwing an arcane missile, striking power armor and blasting out a patch of scorch marks.

This was never a simple assault of force.

This is a dual trial of flesh, will, and soul faith.

And the Chaos Cultists hiding in the deepest part coldly smiled as they watched them step by step into a deeper quagmire.

In the darkness at the corridor's end, a Pureblood Gene Stealer silently clung to the ceiling, purple pupils quietly gazing at the squad below.

Next second, a large quantity of information quietly accessed the Purification Squad's internal, an Iron Guard soldier's consciousness network.

Route, slowly unfolded in the soldier's mind.