The strongest astral army in Warhammer 40K

Chapter 298 The Gray Knight's Request

As night fell, the wasteland was filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood. The day's battle had left everyone exhausted, and the corpses of orcs piled up like mountains, but everyone knew that this was just the calm before the storm.

Russell sat on the roof of the fortress, gazing at the campfires of the orc camp in the distance, and knew in his heart that the orc war leader was brewing the next large-scale attack.

"This is never going to end..." Russell murmured to himself, rubbing his aching shoulders and neck. Although his body had an amazing ability to recover, the continuous high-intensity battles still left him feeling exhausted.

Just as Russell was about to find a corner to rest, a white-scarred warrior hurriedly ran onto the roof, his power armor joints making a slight hydraulic sound.

“Russell,” the soldier’s voice was urgent, “someone is looking for you on the communicator.”

Russell glanced at the soldier, a hint of doubt in his voice: "Looking for me? Who?"

The soldier shrugged: "I don't know, they only said you have to answer the phone yourself."

Russell followed the soldier to the communications room and picked up the communicator. A blurry figure appeared in the holographic projection, a deep but joyful voice saying, "Russell, it's been a long time."

Russell chuckled and teased, "Asteran? You're not going to send me to exile some demon prince again, are you?"

Astram laughed heartily, "This time it's the Nurgle demons, and their plague is spreading."

Russell knew that the Nurgle demons were far more dangerous; if a Nurgle demon appeared, the world would essentially be doomed. Without hesitation, he said, "Then let's begin."

Astram laughed, "For the Emperor, for the Grey Knights."

Russell said firmly, "For the Emperor, for the people of the Empire."

At dawn, the wind whipped up dust across the wasteland, and the banners of White Scar Fortress fluttered in the wind. Russell stood on the fortress's helipad, Arya beside him, their psionic tentacles swaying gently in the air.

Casal's voice held a hint of reluctance: "Brother, I really don't want you to leave."

Russell sighed and said, "Casal, you know, but I'm better at dealing with demons."

Casal gave a wry smile and then said boldly, "Good luck, brother. We'll come to your aid once we've dealt with the orcs."

Russell laughed and teased, "Then you'd better hurry up, or I'll banish all the demons and you'll still be fixing the toilet."

Casal's laughter made the metal panels of the helipad vibrate: "Don't worry, my motorcycle project isn't finished yet!"

Arya's psionic tendrils gently brushed against Russell's wrist, her voice carrying a hint of tenderness: "Let's go."

Russell nodded and said, "Okay."

Casal brandished his White Tiger Blade and said, "Brothers, prepare to see them off!"

…………

The roar of the Thunderhawk gunboat's engine suddenly intensified, and the hatch slowly opened. After boarding the gunboat, Russell turned to look at Casal and said, "Casal, take care."

Casal raised his White Tiger Blade high and roared, "For the Emperor! For White Scar!"

Russell, raising his Bloodthirster shovel, roared: For the Empire!

The roar of the Thunderhawk gunboat's engines suddenly intensified as it soared into the sky.

Casal stood there for a long time without leaving, and the other White Scar brothers did not leave either, until the Thunderhawk gunship disappeared into the sky before they dispersed.

…………

Inside the Thunderhawk gunboat, the roar of the engine echoed in the ears.

Russell sat in his seat, his gaze passing through the porthole as he looked at the receding wasteland, a sense of indescribable loss welling up within him.

Arya said gently, "Are you reluctant to part with it?"

Russell said in a low voice, "These men of the grasslands... are bold, humorous, and very honest. It was really enjoyable to fight alongside them."

As Russell spoke, countless images flashed through his mind—Cassal speeding across the wasteland on his motorcycle, the White Tiger Blade flashing silver in the air; the White Scar warriors roasting meat on the roof of the fortress, oil drums clinking like wine glasses; on the training ground, they using explosive guns to drive piles, using chainsaws to cut steel bars, their laughter making the metal plates hum.

"They build fortresses faster than a car racer," Russell said with a hint of teasing, but his eyes were full of nostalgia.

Arya comforted her, "But you have new battles and new companions."

Russell sighed and said, "You're right. There are new battles waiting for us, and many more good brothers waiting for me to meet."

…………

The Thunderhawk gunship pierced through the thick, green, poisonous cloud and landed on the surface of the Dead World. Russell's gaze pierced through the porthole, looking out at the Nurgle-contaminated land—rotting vegetation, bubbling swamps, and the distant flames of the Imperial army battling the Nurgle demons.

“What a terrible place,” Russell murmured, a hint of disgust in his voice.

Arya looked wary: "The concentration of chaotic energy here is alarmingly high; we must be careful."

The hatch of the Thunderhawk gunship slowly opened, and Russell and Arya stepped out of the cabin. Beneath their feet was a corroded metal platform, surrounded by the Grey Knights' secret base—a black stone spire hidden in a cloud of poison.

Astland stood at the entrance to the spire, and upon seeing Russell, smiled and said, "Brother Russell, welcome to the world of death."

Russell chuckled and teased, "Astram, you've picked a really 'good' place."

Astlan laughed heartily, and after a while said: "The situation here is extremely serious. We need your golden psionic power to purify this place."

Russell nodded and said, "What are we waiting for? Let's begin."

Astland said seriously, "Then let's begin."

Inside the Grey Knights' secret base, runes embedded in the black stone walls shimmered with a ghostly blue light.

Astland stood in front of the holographic tactical console, his expression cold and stern.

Russell and Arya stood beside him.

“The situation is worse than we anticipated,” Astram said in a low voice. “The Imperial army is struggling, and Nurgle’s corruption is spreading rapidly.”

A map of the dead world appeared in the holographic projection, with green poisonous clouds covering a large area and red dots marking the battle sites between the Imperial army and the Nurgle demons.

“Every massive invasion of Nurgle has a point of contamination—the source of corruption. Only by destroying it can the spread of this plague be stopped.”

Russell asked, "Can we pinpoint the location of the contamination now?"

Astram's electronic prosthetic eye swept across the holographic map, his voice tinged with helplessness: "This is precisely our biggest challenge—we don't know the exact location of the contamination point."

Russell thought for a moment and said: "Perhaps I can try to go and look for it!"

Astland frowned and said, "No, the pollution here is too severe. The poison might kill you."