"Don't even think about it. I will kill you!" the demon roared. "I will imprison your soul, treat you to millions of phages. Ill make you understand why life is better than death."
"Do you really think you can win?" Guilliman replied with a teasing smirk. "I mean...unless you are trying to kill me with your disgusting appearance. That is indeed a possibility."
"Alright, the game is over, demon. It's time to get serious. What font do you prefer? I'll mercifully allow you to choose one, along with a language of your liking." Guilliman's voice was calm, his Emperor's Sword raising as a terrifying wave of power surged from his body. The sword struck down, severing the Nurgle demon's weapon.
The flames from the Emperor's Sword terrified the Nurgle demon, who staggered back several steps. Guilliman stepped forward, pointing the sword directly at him.
"Tell me your name, demon," Guilliman demanded, the blade pressing into the demon's chest. "You'd better be respectful and not make me change my mind. If you force my hand, I will kill you. You know this sword, don't you? It will destroy you completely. Should it pierce your body, you won't even return to the Warp. You will be reduced to nothingness in the golden flame."
The Nurgle demon's eyes widened with fear as it stared at the burning Emperor's Sword.
It knew what the sword was—the weapon of the cursed, one that would obliterate its very soul.
(The Chaos Gods refer to the Emperor as the Damned.)
In the previous battle, this sword had wiped out many lesser demons.
Gurlo, witnessing the scene, charged forward to try and rescue the Nurgle demon. If the demon perished, his plans would be utterly ruined.
The Father's power would weaken, the Warp storms would settle, and this world would no longer be Nurgle's garden.
"I am your enemy, traitor!" Sicarius's voice rang out as he blocked Gurlo's way. Their weapons clashed in a powerful shockwave that rattled Sicarius's body.
Gurlo, too, felt the strain. His heavy, obese form made his armor groan and crack under the pressure.
Maggots fell from his body, and the flies clinging to his armor swarmed into the air, forming a dense cloud of black.
A nearby Space Marine fired a flamethrower, incinerating the flies as they dropped to the ground, releasing a putrid stench.
"Get lost!" Gurlo howled, swinging his plague axe toward Sicarius's head.
Sicarius blocked the attack with his power sword. "I won't. You're so round, you must roll very quickly," he quipped, holding off the blow to buy time for the Primarch.
Guilliman's Emperor's Sword slowly advanced toward the Nurgle demon's heart. Finally, the demon chose to surrender.
It didn't want to die.
"I am Slogoth Poxbelly, one of the Great Unclean One of Nurgle" the Nurgle demon confessed, revealing his true name.
"The Great Unclean One?" Guilliman scoffed. "With such a small body? Gath the Slow, you truly are a waste."
Gath the Slow seethed with anger but held his tongue.
One day, he would have his revenge.
This time, however, he had been careless and failed to bring his full power into the real universe.
If he had, he would not have been so easily defeated.
True names are a demon's weakness. If someone gains control of a demon's true name, they can either enslave or exile the demon.
However, true names must be used with caution.
Chanting the true name of a demon can cause chaos, warping those who do so into incomprehensible monstrosities. This has happened in the Empire's history, especially among wild psykers.
To protect against this, the State Church, Inquisition, Grey Knights, and Assassinorum work to keep knowledge of Chaos and demons hidden.
Guilliman, being a Primarch, with the powers of the Warp and the golden control of human faith, had no such issue. He could recite the demon's true name and expel him with ease.
Not only could he recite it, but he could banish the demon effortlessly.
"Good," Guilliman said, swinging his Emperor's Sword. With a clean strike, he severed Gath the Slow's limbs and impaled the demon's chest with the blade.
"You can return. But do remember to deliver a message to Mortarion. I'll come for him next. If you don't want to be found, hide as far away as you can."
With Guilliman's words, Slogoth felt an invisible force pulling him back.
The real universe rejected his existence.
"I will return," said Slogoth. He wanted to say something more, but Guilliman's cold gaze silenced him. He held back, fearing that Guilliman might change his mind and end his existence with a final stroke of the sword.
The Nurgle demon was banished back to the Warp.
"No!" Gurlo screamed in despair as he felt the fading power of the Warp.
All of his efforts had been in vain. His plan, which had been years in the making, had crumbled before him, and Gurlo could not accept it.
Having dealt with the demon, Guilliman turned to face Gurlo, still locked in combat with Sicarius.
The Great Unclean One had been sent away, as Guilliman had his own plan. As for the traitor leader, he would not be allowed to remain.
Gurlo and Sicarius continued to fight, but it was clear that any exchange between them would be futile.
Before Guilliman, Gurlo's fate can be decided in an instant with a single move.
Guilliman's Emperor's Sword shattered Gurlo's battle axe with ease.
"It seems this planet still belongs to the Empire," Guilliman remarked, before stabbing his sword into Gurlo's chest, ending his life.
Other demons were either banished back to the Warp or fled on their own. They knew they couldn't win if they stayed.
Even demons cannot be destroyed by normal means. If they die, they can only be reborn in the Warp after a long wait, with Nurgle's permission.
Guilliman knew it would be pointless to kill Slogoth permanently. Nurgle could always recreate him.
The more pressing issue was the need to unite the Empire and prepare for the next wave of traitor attacks.
The Chaos Gods, still shackled by the Emperor, were locked in their own battles. But the real threat lay in the renegade Space Marines and the Primarchs.
Demons cannot freely enter the real world, but the renegade Space Marines, including the traitorous Primarchs, can.
Magnus, Fulgrim, and Mortarion—the three Primarchs who had turned against him—were the real threats Guilliman faced.
It was crucial to defeat them quickly, or they would make his position even harder to maintain.
"If it weren't for my position, I would have sought the help of some loyal Primarchs," Guilliman thought to himself.
The Primarch of the First Legion, the Lion, Lion El'Jonson, was the Emperor's most trusted tool, with the potential to compete with Horus for the position of Warmaster. He was likely resting in the Tower of Angels, the Great Stone Fortress, possibly sent to another time or place by the chaotic currents of time and space.
What a reliable tool he would have been—someone who could fight and resist. If he were here, at least the pressure would have been lessened.
The Primarch of the Eighteenth Legion, Vulkan, the Immortal, remained on Nocturne. During the Beast War, he had fought valiantly, perishing alongside the Greenskin Warlord. However, due to his immortality, Vulkan could not truly die. He simply spent some time in death before resurrecting, even if his body was destroyed. His resilience made him a near-immortal entity, a demon in human form.
Vulkan was most likely still on Nocturne, but Guilliman couldn't find any of the Primarchs at this moment—not while he had not yet fully regained control of the situation.
The Primarchs were the most intelligent of mankind. If they realized his true identity, the situation would become even more complex.
Both the Chaos gods and the Emperor's own sons might soon realize what had happened to him.
How long would it take for them to understand? The timing was uncertain. It could take months or even years before they pieced it all together.
For now, Guilliman knew he had to control the situation. Any further delay would only make things worse.
He refused to gamble his life and the future of mankind on the whims of the Emperor or the other Primarchs. A single misstep could result in irreversible loss—both for him and humanity.
Another civil war would be disastrous, a conflict that could easily lead to their downfall.
The battle ended, and the soldiers erupted into cheers of victory.
The people of Sara Star were especially jubilant, their tears of joy reflecting the relief they felt after the long struggle.
"Clean the battlefield, execute the traitors, tend to the wounded, and check on the civilians. Have them send a representative to me," Guilliman ordered, pushing aside his own thoughts to make sure everything was in order.