Three [Drukhari Incubi] units and two [Ork Nobz], the former carried wickedly-shaped swords that looked right out of a horror movie and wore the coolest and spikiest-looking armor I've ever seen, and stood seven feet tall, and the latter were ten-feet tall, green-skinned muscle-heads with biceps the size of my whole torso and their right hands covered in massive, clawed gloves that cackled with some kind of electricity. Of the two, the [Drukhari Incubi] looked like they valued speed and technique more, whereas the [Ork Nobz] were probably really strong dudes who'd rip their enemies apart with pure force. Overall, I would very much not want to mess with these guys on a good day and yet, Crentist's aura still outmatched them.

It was almost comical, really. The Incubi, all sharp edges and murderous grace, practically exuded danger. They moved like predators, each step deliberate, with that particular stillness just before the pounce. Their swords – shimmering with dark energy—looked like they could carve through anything, including my sanity. Meanwhile, the Orks were the complete opposite. The Nobz stomped forward with a thunderous clatter, their giant feet leaving cracks in the stone rooftop beneath them. They didn't seem like the type to care much about finesse; they were all about overwhelming brutality. Their snarling faces split into wide, tusked grins, and they cracked their knuckles as if eager to tear into something – anything.

Crentist, however, just stood there like he didn't even notice them. His skull-faced helmet betrayed no emotion, and his aura of cold anti-psychic energy was like a black hole, sucking the life and warmth out of the air around him. Compared to the Incubi's menacing elegance and the Orks' raw, animalistic power, Crentist was a silent storm. It was like watching a lion pride and a couple of rhinos decide to take on a shadow that could erase their very existence with a blink.

"Right, no time to get all starstruck," I muttered to myself as I reloaded my rifle. The Great Unclean One, Kaagrazath, hadn't stopped regenerating. Each time I blasted a hole through its bloated body, it simply healed over, pus-filled flesh knitting back together like nothing had happened. But the fat bastard's movements had slowed a bit, which was something. I was doing damage; it just wasn't enough. Yet.

The ground below us rumbled as Kaagrazath took another lumbering step forward, its massive bulk making the ground quiver like jelly. The Nurglings that had poured out of its body earlier had begun scaling the building, eager to swarm us. Hundreds of tiny, green-skinned creatures with sharp teeth and sharper knives, giggling like insane toddlers as they scrambled up toward the rooftop where we stood.

"Alright, boys," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Let's make this quick. You guys keep the Nurglings off me, and I'll keep blasting the big guy. Crentist, just… do your Crentist thing. Cool? Cool."

The Ork Nobz didn't even bother acknowledging me; they were already charging toward the edge of the rooftop with booming war cries that echoed through the ruined city. They vaulted off the roof like it was nothing, descending upon the writhing mass of Nurglings below like a pair of muscle-bound meteors. The moment they hit the ground, they started swinging. Each swipe of their massive, electrified claws tore through a dozen Nurglings at once, sending chunks of green flesh flying in all directions. The Nurglings' laughter turned to screams, but that didn't stop them. More just kept coming.

The [Drukhari Incubi] were more measured in their approach. They moved like shadows, darting from one side of the rooftop to the other, their swords slicing through Nurglings that had managed to crawl up the walls. Each movement was a lethal dance, their blades singing through the air with a metallic hiss as they carved through flesh with terrifying precision. In a matter of seconds, they'd cleared the rooftop of the first wave of Nurglings.

Crentist? Well, he didn't do anything flashy. But the aura around him grew darker, and the Nurglings that got too close to him simply disintegrated, their bodies collapsing into piles of dust as soon as they crossed some invisible threshold. It was as if their very existence was being erased by his mere presence. No attacks, no movements - just annihilation. And it was freaking glorious.

"Okay, then," I muttered, pulling my attention back to Kaagrazath. "Let's see if we can crack that regeneration of yours."

I took aim at one of the exposed areas of its flabby belly, where I could still see the faintest trace of the hole I'd blasted earlier. The wound hadn't fully healed yet, and that gave me an idea. If I couldn't kill this thing with raw firepower, maybe I could overload its regeneration.

I steadied the rifle, lining up my shot, and then squeezed the trigger.

The Rail Rifle kicked softly in my hands, and a moment later, the shot punched clean through the boss's gut. This time, though, I didn't stop at one. I fired again. And again. Three more shots, each one slamming into the same spot, each one widening the wound. Black ichor poured from Kaagrazath's belly like a broken dam, and the daemon let out a deep, gurgling roar that shook the very air around us.

For a moment, I thought it had worked. The regeneration stalled, the hole gaping and bleeding, but then, as if taunting me, the wound slowly began to close again.

"Son of a -"

Before I could finish the thought, Kaagrazath raised its rusted sword high above its head. The damn thing was the size of a bus, and it looked like it was about to cleave the entire rooftop in half. The sword came down with a speed that didn't match the monster's size, a sickening blur of rusted metal and rotten filth aimed right at us.

I didn't think. I just acted. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled speed, I leaped back, barely avoiding the edge of the blade as it smashed into the rooftop, sending chunks of concrete and stone flying in all directions. The force of the impact nearly threw me off my feet, but I managed to stay upright, skidding to a halt a few meters away.

"Okay! That was close!" I shouted, trying to suppress the panic rising in my chest.

But Kaagrazath wasn't done. It laughed—a deep, booming sound that made my skin crawl – and as it did, the flies around it thickened into a choking swarm, obscuring its massive form. Worse, the ground beneath it began to bubble and churn, and from the pools of filth, more Nurglings started to crawl out, their giggling voices rising in a horrifying chorus.

"Great," I muttered, looking over at the Incubi and Orks. They were holding their own, but more Nurglings just kept coming, and they were getting closer and closer to overwhelming us. If this kept up, we'd be drowning in the damn things before we could even touch the boss.

"Time for Plan B," I muttered, reaching into my Inventory. I'd been saving this for a real emergency, and well, this sure as hell counted.

I pulled out the [Krak Grenade] from the System, which was weirdly cheap at a price of 100 War Points. It wasn't much – just a standard-issue explosive designed for taking out armored targets or a large group of targets or if the thrower just wanted to blow shit up. It was designed to eject a ton of shrapnel and force and wouldn't probably do anything if I tossed it and it landed beside the Great Unclean One, but if I could get it close enough to the boss's exposed wound….

I turned to Crentist, who was still standing in his silent, aura-of-doom way, and called out, "I'm gonna need a distraction, buddy."

Crentist turned his skull-faced helmet toward me, gave a single nod, and then – without a word – vanished from sight. He was really good at that.

"Alright, big guy," I muttered, pulling the pin from the grenade and giving it a quick toss in my hand. "Let's see how you like this."

Just as I prepared to throw it, I saw Crentist reappear right beside Kaagrazath. The [Great Unclean One] turned toward him, its grotesque face twisting into a snarl. Crentist's presence clearly had some kind of effect towards the boss as it staggered and roared and raised its massive cleaver to try and break my [Culexus Assassin].

Perfect.

I lobbed the grenade as hard as I could, watching it sail through the air before disappearing into the writhing mass of flesh that was Kaagrazath's stomach. A split second later, there was a muffled explosion, and the boss roared in pain, its bloated body shuddering as chunks of rotting flesh were blown apart.

The wound didn't close this time.

I grinned. "Now we're getting somewhere."

But as Kaagrazath stumbled, I saw its beady eyes lock onto me. Its laughter faded, replaced by a cold, simmering rage.

"Oh, crap," I muttered. "Here we go."

Kaagrazath's eyes were like twin black holes of hatred, locking onto me with a focus that made my skin crawl. The flies surrounding it dispersed for a moment as it leaned forward, its massive bulk groaning under its own weight. Every step it took toward me felt like the world was holding its breath. My Rail Rifle suddenly felt way too small.

"Yeah, that was probably a bad idea," I muttered to myself, backing up as quickly as I could while fumbling to reload.

The Ork Nobz were still in the thick of it, swinging their massive claws like living wrecking balls, but even they paused for a split second to glance at the Great Unclean One. One of them barked something in their guttural language and, with a roar, turned their attention back to the swarm of Nurglings. The Incubi, too, seemed momentarily distracted by the shift in Kaagrazath's demeanor, but they didn't hesitate. In a blur of motion, they resumed their grim work, slicing through the gibbering horde with eerie precision.

But Crentist… Crentist just stood there, completely unfazed by the fact that Kaagrazath was now bearing down on me like a runaway freight train of pestilence.

"Uh, little help here?" I called out, my voice coming out a little more panicked than I intended.

Crentist didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge my plea. Instead, he took one slow, deliberate step toward Kaagrazath, and for the briefest of moments, I thought maybe – just maybe – he'd do something dramatic. You know, maybe summon a vortex of annihilation or whatever it was that made Culexus Assassins so terrifying in the first place.

Instead, Kaagrazath's massive sword came down with the force of a collapsing building.

I barely managed to dive out of the way as the rusted cleaver crashed into the rooftop, splitting it in two and sending chunks of debris flying everywhere. My shoulder hit the ground hard, and the impact knocked the wind out of me. Gasping, I scrambled to my feet, just in time to see Crentist standing calmly in the shadow of the enormous blade, unscathed.

Crentist, you absolute psycho.

Kaagrazath roared in frustration, yanking its sword free from the shattered roof and raising it again, its rage now fully focused on the one entity that dared stand in defiance. Crentist didn't flinch. In fact, he took another step forward, his aura growing darker, more oppressive. The very air around him shimmered with a faint, otherworldly distortion, and for the first time, Kaagrazath hesitated.

That was my opening.

Ignoring the searing pain in my shoulder, I raised the Rail Rifle again and lined up my shot. The beast's wound was still wide open, festering with black ichor, and I could see where the grenade had torn through its putrid innards. One more hit there, and maybe—just maybe—I could finish this.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and squeezed the trigger.

The shot slammed into the wound with a sickening squelch, and Kaagrazath's entire body convulsed. A horrid, wet gurgling sound escaped its throat, and for a moment, I thought it was finally going down. But then, impossibly, its bloated flesh began to twist and writhe, and the wound I'd just blasted began to close again. This time, though, it wasn't just regenerating – the motherfucker was transforming.

"Oh, come on!" I yelled. "Why won't you just fucking die?!"

AN: Chapter 23 is out on (Pat)reon! (Choose Fanfictioneer Tree)