Toren's hoarse roar came through the communicator, with the snarl of boltguns and the shriek of daemons interweaving in the background: "Inquisitor! Report your situation!"
"Still holding on!"
Inquisitor knox responded loudly, while subtly activating his Soul-Seizing Eye.
In the eyes of the ordinary crew, Inquisitor knox was sending bolt after bolt into the demons' vital points with astonishing precision.
Every gunshot was accompanied by a demon's wail, and every bullet precisely tore through the chaotic flesh.
However, what they didn't know was that these demons, seemingly struck by boltguns, were in fact already bound by invisible chains.
Those fatal shots merely added a touch of drama to this execution performance.
The tide of battle seemed to be turning in a favorable direction, and the crew's morale surged.
But just as hope began to sprout, an abrupt change occurred.
The entire warship suddenly trembled violently, as if being savagely bitten by some ancient beast.
The metal bulkheads groaned piercingly, and the armor plates, tempered by millennia of warfare, now twisted and deformed like fragile tin foil.
A thick, green mist surged in like a tide, and wherever it passed, the metal surfaces immediately sprouted mold and rust.
In the center of the mist, a massive, deformed figure gradually became clear.
Its skin was like a corpse's hide soaked for centuries, yet vibrant flowers bloomed grotesquely from its festering wounds.
A gaping maw split open on its abdomen, with spiraling sharp teeth entwined with constantly writhing tentacles.
Corrosive slime dripped from its tattered bat-like wings, and each step it took left a smoking imprint on the deck.
In the Soul-Seizing Eye's vision, Inquisitor knox saw a colossal entity composed of pure chaotic energy.
This Nurgle Greater daemon was tearing at the veil between reality and the Warp, its psychic fluctuations overloading all the bridge's lighting equipment, with flickering sparks in the green mist like dying fireflies.
"Father Nurgle's children…"
The Greater daemon's voice was like a million flies buzzing simultaneously, or the gurgling sound of a festering wound being squeezed.
"Come, accept the grace of decay…"
The Grey Knights' psychic detectors simultaneously flared with blinding red light.
Toren led the silver-armored warriors through the mist, and when they saw the enemy before them, even the most seasoned Grey Knights involuntarily tightened their grip on their weapons.
[Chaos Entity Detected]
[Classification: Nurgle Greater Daemon]
[Threat Level: Exterminatus]
Toren's face was so grim it could drip water; he quickly signaled several tactical hand gestures: "Purification formation! Rune weapons, charge!"
The Grey Knights immediately shifted their positions, and the exorcism runes on their power weapons lit up one by one, carving out a small pure space within the green mist.
Inquisitor knox's figure flashed in from the side door, his appearance slightly relaxing Toren's tense jawline.
But the Inquisitor himself rolled his eyes inwardly.
Through his observation, the chaotic energy contained within this putrid behemoth was no less than that of the Khorne Greater Demon he had encountered last time.
Even more troublesome was that the demonic flowers blooming from its wounds were constantly secreting regenerative slime; conventional weapons would likely be ineffective.
"What a nuisance…"
Inquisitor knox mused to himself.
With the Grey Knights' current equipment, resolving a demon of this level would cost at least half their casualties.
Unless, he subtly touched the Netherworld Seal in his sleeve.
He was willing to expose part of his true strength, but the risk was…
Inquisitor knox fell into a brief hesitation.
At this moment, the Greater Daemon had already charged towards everyone, swinging its rust-stained greatsword, sending two Grey Knights flying several meters with a single strike.
Suddenly, the Greater Daemon stopped in its tracks, its rotten nostrils twitching, its cloudy eyes fixed on Inquisitor knox: "Such… a delicious soul…"
Its abdominal mouth dripped slime, "Let Father Nurgle grant you… eternal favor…"
Inquisitor knox's stomach churned; these disgusting greens always reminded him of moldy stinky tofu.
"For the Emperor!"
Inquisitor knox feigned a roar and charged, his eyes flaring with a dark glow, his boltgun spitting fire.
Behind him, the Grey Knights' psychic lightning and the Adepta Sororitas's holy flames wove into a net of death.
However, these attacks, which would have torn ordinary demons to shreds, had little effect on this favored child of Nurgle.
At the wounds opened by the boltguns, the putrid flesh wriggled and healed like living tissue.
Beneath the charred skin scorched by psychic lightning, new granulation tissue proliferated at a nauseating speed.
Even more bizarrely, every wound, once healed, would bloom with even more vibrant poisonous mushrooms; those enchanting caps trembled slightly with the Greater Daemon breath, spewing sweet, cloudy spores.
Inquisitor knox narrowed his eyes, the sight reflected in them making him inwardly click his tongue.
The chaotic energy circulatory system within this daemon was like a perpetual motion machine; every injury immediately drew energy from the Warp to replenish itself.
Those seemingly disgusting poisonous mushrooms were, in fact, exquisite energy converters, continuously supplying the blessings of Nurgle's Garden to the host.
Inquisitor knox's sleeve billowed without wind, the Netherworld's Seal in the shadows flickering with an eerie light, then finally falling silent.
He quickly assessed the situation: this act could be performed, but the audience was not easily fooled by those armored "tin cans."
The Grey Knights' psychic detectors were scanning at high frequency, the Adepta Sororitas's flamethrowers were primed, not to mention the Inquisition's servo-skulls recording in the shadows…
If Ox-Head and Horse-Face appeared, the commotion would be even more conspicuous than an Ork rock band breaking into the Black Library.
Moreover, there was this Nurgle-special-edition Greater Daemon before him.
The thickness of that rotting flesh armor would probably make even an Exterminatus order hesitate for three seconds.
"Looks like I'll have to improvise a little…"
A hint of chilling netherworld light flashed in Inquisitor knox's eyes, and his knuckles formed arcane hand seals within his sleeve.
Deep within his sea of consciousness, the Mirror of Retribution's surface suddenly revealed blood-colored seal script.
That was the least dignified, but absolutely most efficient, solution in the Netherworld's emergency protocols.
Just as the Greater Daemon raised its greatsword, preparing to strike, its rotting body suddenly stiffened, and its pus-filled eyes met Inquisitor knox's.
In its chaotic consciousness, an unprecedented terror suddenly emerged, like the instinctive shudder of prey targeted by a top predator.
Golden light suddenly erupted within the bridge, and a towering figure was vaguely visible within the dazzling radiance.
The kneeling crew members were incoherent with excitement: "The Emperor! The Emperor has manifested!"
The Grey Knights all knelt on one knee, and even the most hardened warriors couldn't help but well up with tears.
The Adepta Sororitas devoutly recited prayers, and even the Greater Daemon hesitated for a moment.
Inquisitor knox seized this fleeting opportunity, and a colossal phantom of a dharma-form appeared behind him.
In everyone's eyes, it was the sacred avatar of the Emperor, but in reality, it was Inquisitor knox's "true form dharma-body."
This dharma-form merely raised a hand, and the Greater Daemon struggled violently, like an insect caught by an invisible giant hand.
"No! This is imposs—!"
The Greater Daemon scream abruptly ceased, its body began to disintegrate, and its soul energy was forcibly extracted.
A small cluster of viscous green light condensed before the Mirror of Retribution.
Suddenly, a sweet, cloying pressure, like rotten honey, swept through the bridge.
Deep within the Warp, the eternally joyful, corpulent figure in Nurgle's Garden cast its gaze.
"Naugh~ty~ child~ ♫" The Chaos God's voice was like a million festering wounds whispering, "Give~ me~ back~ my~ toy~ ♫"
Inquisitor knox immediately felt the soul energy condensing on the back of his hand become slippery and elusive, like trying to grasp an eel covered in lubricant.
Even worse, that energy began to flow backward, as if countless invisible small hands were playing tug-of-war with him.
He could clearly feel Nurgle's will permeating through the Warp rift, a sensation like having his face smeared with moldy cotton candy.
Even more disgusting, a wisp of sweet, putrid chaotic energy was drilling into his sea of consciousness, like a repulsive parasite.
"Scram!"
Inquisitor knox's eyes suddenly burst forth with a captivating dark glow, and a deep black halo abruptly surged around him, instantly shredding that corrupting energy.
The Nurgle Chaos God let out a pained grumble, reluctantly retreating into the depths of the Warp.
All of this happened in a flash.
When everyone came to their senses, they saw only Inquisitor knox standing alone in the center of the newly purified bridge; the Greater Daemon had long since vanished into thin air.
"A miracle!"
"The Emperor protects!"
Cheers surged like a tide, and Inquisitor knox, amidst the deafening shouts of "Long live the Emperor," secretly calculated the income and expenses of this "miracle performance," and immediately felt his temples throbbing.
This wasn't a battle; it was clearly burning money:
His reserve of faith power instantly bottomed out; those two seconds of dharma-form display were more expensive than Terra's most luxurious holographic projection.
The Mirror of Retribution, due to overload, was so hot it could fry a dozen eggs, and the ancient cracks spread like spiderwebs, emitting faint "crackling" sounds, as if it would disintegrate at any moment.
The most painful was the yin virtue reserve; this battle directly evaporated nearly half of it.
Not to mention the mental distress compensation; Nurgle's sickly sweet "naughty child" was looping in his mind like a broken record.
Inquisitor knox now, whenever he closed his eyes, could see that corpulent figure writhing in Nurgle's Garden, making him so nauseous he almost threw up breakfast from the last century.
"This was a huge loss…"
Inquisitor knox was aching with regret when he suddenly glimpsed the newly recorded data on the Mirror of Retribution, and his face immediately broke into a smile:
[Sin: Filth and Decay]
[Sin Value: 5000]
[Punishment: Core material for River of Oblivion sewage treatment]
[Converted Nether Energy: 2500]
The cost-effectiveness of this deal suddenly became much more appealing.
Although a portion of the "toys" were snatched by that fat old man, a closer calculation showed that he still made some profit.
It was like bargaining at a flea market; even if the vendor pocketed some change, the core item was still acquired.
The Netherworld's infrastructure projects, however, advanced another significant step because of this.
By the River of Oblivion, the newly installed "Nurgle Special Type One" water purification system was operating efficiently, and the originally turbid river water visibly cleared up at a rapid pace.
Thus, the Netherworld's industries gained a new value-added service: contaminated souls could now be put into the River of Oblivion to cleanse sins and be refined into "Nether Energy essence": a highly efficient energy source for quickly replenishing Nether Energy.
Inquisitor knox contentedly stroked the Netherworld tattoo on the back of his hand, calculating the profits brought by this value-added service.
Low-value souls contaminated by chaos could now be directly "juiced" in the River of Oblivion, saving the cumbersome Mirror of Retribution judgment process, and also extracting a considerable reserve of Nether Energy.
And as he looked around the bridge, the solemn salutes of the Grey Knights, the devout prostrations of the Adepta Sororitas, and the fervent cheers of the crew were all paying for this "miracle performance."
Inquisitor knox noted another entry in his mental ledger: "Includes faith top-up service, long-term profits promising."
"Tsk!"
He inwardly gloated.
"I even reimbursed you for the renovation costs of Nurgle's lair; isn't that good after-sales service?"
As he was calculating, a faint fragrance wafted over.
Sister of Battle Sophia approached with her head bowed, her cheeks flushed as she handed him a silk handkerchief embroidered with the Emperor's holy emblem.
The halo of the promethium lamps in the bridge cast delicate shadows on her eyelashes, adding a rare touch of softness to this battle-hardened warrior.
Inquisitor knox's eyebrow subtly arched; as he took the handkerchief, his fingertips brushed, almost imperceptibly, against her knuckles, slightly roughened from years of wielding weapons.
That momentary touch made him suddenly feel that being a "living saint" occasionally seemed like a rather good job.
At least it was much more interesting than staring at the Mirror of Retribution checking ledgers all day.