Nurgle's Garden is lush and chaotic, as if embodying the mechanism of biological disorder, a composite of decay, rebirth, and proliferation.
Pustule-like galls cover the twisted branches of boxwood trees, while the ulcerated bark of hornbeam branches, exposing writhing crimson fungi, dangles spore sacs that constantly spread a putrid stench.
Fan-shaped palm leaves are covered in parasitic fungi, their veins swollen and blackened like festering blood vessels, intertwining with the rotting banana leaves dripping with sweet, sticky fluid, all contributing to the dim light of the entire Garden, along with the omnipresent dense fog and buzzing fly swarms like clouds.
And in the microscopic world beyond Alexander's sight, there must be even more lush and twisted fungi, bacteria, and viruses lurking.
If a mortal were to stand here, they would likely be infected by hundreds of millions of diseases in a short time, becoming nutrients for the thick fungal mat and meadow beneath Alexander's feet.
However, Alexander entered Nurgle's Garden using the body of Greater Daemon, a physique even stronger than some Chief Greater daemons.
To be safe, Alexander also shone an Adaptation Lamp on himself.
This tool, which allows life to adapt to all natural, physical, and chemical environments, would grant Alexander complete immunity to the extreme climate of Nurgle's Garden for twenty-four hours.
But Alexander still dared not let down his guard; this was, after all, the domain of a Warp Chaos God, inhabited by countless Nurgle daemons, every inch of land imbued with the blessings of the Empyrean; these daemons serving Nurgle were far more powerful here than in the material universe.
The dangers within were self-evident, and Alexander was prepared for Greater Daemon to be killed once.
However, according to the judgment of Sanguinius and Cegorach, Greater Daemon possessed all the characteristics of a daemon; even if killed, it could theoretically be resurrected, though it might require time to reshape its material universe body through rituals, emotions, and faith.
But the situation was still a bit beyond Alexander's expectations.
Horticulous Slimux, like a truck with the accelerator floored, transformed into a mass of dark green flesh and charged wildly towards the Black Magic Hall in front of Alexander, knocking over nurgling daemons along the way, felling trees, and even carving a path for Alexander.
As he ran, Horticulous Slimux loudly shouted things like, "The daemon-eating pocket has arrived!" "The daemon-eating pocket has landed in Nurgle's Garden!" "Death Guard has entered the Maw-Tree Thicket!"
Alexander's expression twitched uncontrollably as he listened.
With that kind of talk, Napoleon's stomach ulcers weren't your doing, were they? The great rain at Waterloo was also caused by you, wasn't it?
Perhaps also due to Rainfather's influence, the nurglings along the way all avoided Alexander as if bacteria had encountered antibiotics, hiding behind the swollen, gaping maw-trees, trembling as he passed.
This made Alexander particularly regretful; if they had actively attacked, Alexander could have stuffed a few into his pocket.
But with them trembling and hiding like that, Alexander genuinely felt a bit too awkward to actively grab them.
Not just nurglings, other Nurgle daemons also avoided Alexander as if they had seen an antibiotic god, not daring to approach by half a step.
What a pity, I originally wanted to bring them some free trade.
But after all, even the venerable Horticulous Slimux, the second most favored in Nurgle's Garden, was terrified to such an extent; even if they didn't know Alexander's true nature, these Nurgle daemons instinctively felt fear.
This made Alexander a little helpless; he really wasn't here to cause trouble.
Since the plague God was interested in communicating, Alexander was also willing to talk to him.
The plague released by Nurgle could cause too much damage to Ultramar, and the tools Alexander needed to combat plagues other than bacteria were too expensive, making it extremely difficult to take care of every planet.
If the problem could be resolved through negotiation with Nurgle, that would naturally be for the best.
Moreover, if Nurgle could be persuaded to actively disrupt some of Tzeentch's actions thereafter, it would also be very beneficial for Alexander, Guilliman, and Sanguinius to return to Terra.
After all, even with the anywhere door, Alexander was unable to directly travel to Terra due to the ten-light-year limit, and had to make thousands of transfers through planets along the way, which was not only laborious but also carried a high possibility of being attacked in between.
This was also one of the reasons Alexander had previously obtained the Webway map from Cegorach.
With the Webway map, relying on the vague spatial concepts within the Webway, Alexander could reach his destination with only one or two transfers, and more importantly, the safety of the Webway far surpassed that of transferring between the myriad strange planets in the galaxy.
Of course, this did not mean that the Webway was absolutely safe.
The Eldar's maintenance of the Webway was poor, especially in the more than ten thousand years since the collapse of the Eldar Imperium; many parts of the Webway had collapsed, and some had even been invaded by Chaos daemons and occupied by followers of the Chaos Gods.
For example, Tzeentch's chosen, Ahriman, possessed a "Book of Labyrinths" that allowed him to move freely within the Webway; during the Battle of Cadia, he even almost killed the Eldar Death Guard led by Yvraine within the Webway.
So Alexander hoped that Nurgle could help harass Tzeentch's side.
He looked around, and all the Nurgle daemons within his sight were trembling.
"Why are you all hiding from me? I'm here at Nurgle's invitation!"
Alexander raised his voice and said to the surrounding Nurgle daemons:
"Which of you will announce my arrival?"
The Nurgle daemons immediately began to whisper amongst themselves.
A moment later, a daemon was forcibly pushed out, seemingly ostracized and bullied.
Alexander looked with a little surprise at the timid daemon walking towards him.
That Nurgle daemons had a bovine head, and its body and face were covered in a layer of pockmarks, forming a flower-like pattern.
It trembled as it approached Alexander.
"You, are you really here at Nurgle's invitation?" the small Nurgle daemons asked Alexander with fear and apprehension.
Its eyes held suspicion, as if wondering why Alexander, if invited by Nurgle, would scare Rainfather to such an extent.
"Why don't you go ask at the Black Magic Hall? Or ask Mont and Marquite?" Alexander said, frowning.
Communicating with Nurgle daemons had this drawback: their minds were generally not very bright, rather simple.
The small Nurgle daemons paused after hearing the names Mont and Marquite.
"I'll go ask right away, I know Mont and Marquite, we're good friends." Saying this, the small Nurgle daemons nodded repeatedly and turned to run towards the Black Magic Hall.
"Wait." Alexander called out to the small Nurgle daemons, unable to help but ask with some curiosity, "What's your name? You don't seem very popular?"
He noticed that this Nurgle daemons seemed to be ostracized, even bullied, in Nurgle's Garden, which should theoretically be rare among those of the same family in Nurgle's Garden.
"I am Niu Dou. A long, long time ago, I helped life on many worlds discover vaccines, so they hate me."
As it spoke, the small Nurgle daemons ran towards the Black Magic Hall.
So it was a daemon born from Niu Dou!
Alexander suddenly realized, no wonder it was unpopular in the Warp.
Humans had created the first vaccine, the smallpox vaccine, through cowpox, allowing humanity to completely conquer the smallpox virus.
It was normal for the Niu Dou daemon to be ostracized; it was on the same level as the penicillin daemon.
Not long after, Alexander heard a wriggling sound nearby.
The trees that had been destroyed by Horticulous Slimux's rampage suddenly began to self-repair; skull roses, witch shrubs, and maw-trees began to grow all around.
Alexander saw a huge, wriggling snail crawling from nearby; the snail's back was twisted like a tree, and leaning against the tree was a gaunt, muscular Nurgle daemons holding black iron scissors, like an old farmer or gardener.
The snail crawled and stopped in front of Alexander; the old-farmer-like Nurgle daemons leaped from the snail's shell and bowed respectfully and properly before Alexander.
"Greetings to the great Doraemon Alexander, sir."
"I am Slimux, the Great Cultivator under Nurgle, the Lord of Life, Death, and Decay, Chief Gardener of the Garden."
"Old Sour Seed!" a group of small nurglings suddenly cackled and shouted, as if to jeer.
Slimux, with a speed that made even Alexander, controlling the body of Greater Daemon, feel quick, reached out and grabbed the heads of two playful nurglings, throwing them into the mouth of the large snail beside him; the nurglings giggled as they were chewed to pieces by the snail.
Slimux bowed again formally to Alexander, expressing his apologies, and then continued:
"By my Lord's command, I have come to welcome you, our esteemed guest. Please board Maus' shell, and I will lead you to Nurgle's feast."
Nurgle's Garden Chief Gardener, Slimux, this Nurgle daemons is not a Great Unclean One, but it is said to be the first daemon created by Nurgle, older than all Nurgle daemons, even the Great Unclean Ones, and deeply beloved by Nurgle.
It is the caretaker of all plants in Nurgle's Garden, capable of sowing the seeds of all plants in the Garden, and even possesses the ability to introduce a portion of Nurgle's Garden into the material dimension, creating a small replica of Nurgle's Garden.
Slimux thus earned its unique title, "Great Cultivator," but it rarely leaves Nurgle's Garden, so its fame is not widespread.
However, its practical nature and lack of humor make it stand out from other Nurgle daemons, so it is often mocked by nurglings as "Old Sour Seed."
Incidentally, it is a member of the Nurgle's Garden Depression and Solitude Exchange alongside Kugath and Mortarion.
Alexander sat upon the shell of this snail named Maus; Slimux casually grabbed a nurgling from beside him and hung it in front of the snail's head.
The nurgling, whose hands and feet were bound, seemed to find it amusing, giggling, as the snail Maus began to crawl forward.
But in the Warp, distance is meaningless; Alexander only felt the Black Magic Hall on the distant horizon suddenly magnify, almost instantly arriving before him.
"We have arrived. This is the lair and private abode of my Lord Nurgle, the Withered Mansion of Suffering and Joy — the Black Magic Hall."
Alexander was able to see the eternal, filthy green mountain of flesh standing before the magic palace, awaiting him.
Alexander didn't know how to describe what he was seeing.
It was flesh, it was abundant life, it was life that constantly grew and decayed, yet never truly died.
Fat, pus, maggots, and rotting plants piled together to form its body; it was never a singular entity, it was all life and all decay, it was the entropic path all things must travel towards their destined end, it was the accumulation of all things corrupt.
He was so ugly and rotten, yet divinity was born from within Him; nurglings joyfully crawled out of every pustule and fold, their bloated bellies sagging with foul stomachs, oozing viscous liquid; maggots in the pus transformed into rock-sized flies, circling above the divine figure's forehead, forming a swirling cloud.
Then all of it, everything born from within Him, rapidly decayed, becoming part of the rot that built His body, and then re-birthing new life.
Alexander saw it; he saw the divinity of Nurgle with immense clarity, and understood Nurgle's divinity.
Life is born from decay, and decays from plague; decay is not death, decay is an endless cycle, an eternal rebirth.
All living things will decay, and in decay, they will surely die; death ultimately leads to meaninglessness, this is the destined end.
But Nurgle refused; He discovered reincarnation within decay, He bestowed upon all beings the gift of decaying but not dying, finding meaning in decay.
Indeed, the process of birth and creation inherently contains decay and destruction; today's palace is tomorrow's ruins, the maiden of dawn is the old woman of night, a moment of hope is an eternal regret.
But ruins will be rebuilt into palaces, when the sun rises the old woman's child is a new maiden, and eternal regret always carries a moment of hope; meaning lies within this.
This is His divinity, His existence, His gentleness and kindness, His love.
Alexander's eyes widened, accepting the infinite meaning revealed by Nurgle's vast body; the meaning and existence accumulated through endless cycles were so immense that if a mortal were here, they would likely burst just by looking, and even an Astartes could not directly gaze upon this sacred body.
As for understanding Nurgle, there is no being in the mortal realm that can fully comprehend Nurgle's existence.
But Alexander's consciousness continuously tried to understand Nurgle's existence; He had never felt his mind so clear before; in the process of understanding Nurgle's existence, He vaguely felt he saw some things more clearly, and better understood some aspects of the Warp and his own original form.
Vaguely, Alexander heard some voices praying to him; four types of prayers swirled in his ears.
Slimux leaped from his snail in terror, looking in horror at Alexander, who stood on the snail Maus.
Alexander's body seemed to become enormous; in an instant, Slimux seemed to see a blue raccoon standing between the heaven and earth of the entire Nurgle's Garden.
The raccoon's entire body seemed to be composed of blue flames, burning fiercely yet indistinctly, its gaze, with a steadily growing clarity, fixed on Nurgle.
A still, destructive, cold, soulless death emanated from the raccoon, but after that, a pure white, blissful, joyful, brand new rebirth surged forth.
The raccoon and Nurgle stood facing each other.
One blue, one green, new life from death, birth from decay; two concepts, similar yet seemingly completely opposite, clashed.
The nurglings in Nurgle's Garden let out terrified cries, piling together and hiding behind the giant-mouthed trees, but the giant-mouthed trees were also thoroughly frightened, pulling out their roots to, in turn, hide behind the nurglings.
Rainfather Roggethis screamed in terror; he dug a large pit in the ground and buried his head in it.
Kugath stopped his work, staring wide-eyed at this scene in the Warp.
Typhus, who was butterfly stroking in a cesspit, was startled into convulsions, sinking uncontrollably into the sea of feces and filth.
In the high tower of the plague Planet, Mortarion, having removed his moth wings, sat at a desk writing furiously, calculating the intersections and meanings of the sacred numbers; he was searching for the secrets and meaning behind the resurrection of Guilliman and Sanguinius.
Numbers flew across the paper before him, his simple handwriting gradually revealing the meaning of fate to him.
"The Legion's sequence is the order of our birth; these numbers inherently contain fate and guidance, just as my Legion is the 14th Legion, a double sacred number of Nurgle, destined to return to His embrace."
"Guilliman's thirteen, Sanguinius' nine."
The numbers revealed extraordinary meaning to Mortarion; thirteen and nine merged on the paper, presenting a sacred number never seen before.
"Twenty-two, the existence that resurrected Guilliman and Sanguinius has twenty-two as its sacred number!"
Mortarion was pleased with the result of his calculations.
When the trajectory of fate changed, Angron was ignorant, Fulgrim would only show an arrogant sneer, and Magnus was immersed in superstition and mysticism.
Only he sought truth from matter and numbers, finding truth in objective things outside the mind; he was able to glimpse a bit of truth through numerology.
Truth obtained through reason and analysis! Not through superstition and mysticism!
More truths were revealed before Mortarion as the numbers appeared; he saw the deeper core of the sacred number twenty-two, saw the arrival of five new Greater daemons, saw prayers of four distinct voices, saw three layers of divinity, and the service of two daemon Primarchs.
Numbers interconnected; Mortarion suddenly looked up.
"Sacred number twenty-two intersecting with sacred number seven? The entity that resurrected Guilliman and Sanguinius is visiting Nurgle's domain?"
Mortarion looked up in surprise, then his gaze turned towards Nurgle's Garden in the distance.
He also saw the two towering figures, one blue and one green, standing deep within Nurgle's Garden.
Alexander took a deep breath, clutching his head and listening to the prayers in his ears.
One was the sound of human prayers, praying to him in various pitches of low gothic.
The second was a melodious, clear prayer like a song, using some ancient prophecy; Alexander recognized it as an Eldar prophecy.
The third was a prayer like a dead man's whisper, cold, dry, like the sound produced by mechanical vibration.
The fourth was disordered and chaotic sounds, like insect chirps and animal calls, completely devoid of linguistic components.
His will settled slightly; the scene before him no longer swayed, and the vast information about Nurgle's divinity no longer flooded his mind and consciousness.
This was not because Alexander fully understood Nurgle's existence, but because more information about Nurgle's divinity was deemed harmful by the Adaptation Lamp and was adapted away.
The form of Nurgle before Alexander no longer underwent more changes, but settled into a writhing, rotting, unclean mountain of flesh, looking like a nurgling puls. pro. max. ulter16g+1tb version.
"You seem to have recognized yourself a little more clearly! That's wonderful!" Nurgle said joyfully.
By observing Nurgle to analogize himself, Alexander had a slightly clearer understanding of his own fate.
He sensed that in the future, he would be worshipped by many, many people and non-human entities, primarily from four races.
Humans, Eldar, and two others not yet clearly identified... Alexander's expression was a little strange; he could actually distinguish which two races those other two prayer voices came from.
But those two races theoretically shouldn't generate faith echoes for any Warp god.
"Heheheha, perhaps I can share a little bit of senior experience."
Nurgle noticed Alexander pondering, so he chuckled and said:
"Sometimes, don't deliberately pursue it; our existence is like a great tree wrapped in a seed, it will naturally take root and sprout."
Alexander's lips twitched.
He wanted to refute Nurgle's words, not the seed theory, but...
"I am not a god, I am not like you." Alexander said seriously to Nurgle.
After observing a little of Nurgle's divinity, Alexander was even more drenched in sweat.
No way! I absolutely do not want to become something like this!
As for being a god, let the Emperor do it!
"I understand! I understand!" Nurgle chuckled and said: "All your races are like this."
"But you have such a good personality, willing to listen to me ramble; the other four never listen to me."
Nurgle patted his belly, his face full of joy, seemingly genuinely happy that Alexander was willing to communicate with Him.
It was even like the expression of an old person who had lived alone for many years, suddenly seeing a friend visit.
"I thought you would be like the other four, unwilling to visit me."
Saying this, Nurgle smiled and turned his head, leading Alexander towards the front of the Black Demon Mansion:
"They have so many worries, and I know how to solve them all!"
"Although people always say Tzeentch is the wisest, actually, while I'm not as smart as Him, I've existed the longest, and in this world, only tiny bacteria, fungi, and viruses can see everything..."
As he walked, Nurgle rambled on to Alexander:
"For example, for example, that little Vashtorr whose domain overlaps with yours, that Old One weapon he's looking for, I probably know where it is."
"And also, your Emperor, he wants to build the Webway, right? I still remember where the Webway tunneling machine was placed back then."
"And also, little Ahriman wants to cure his brothers, I can actually do that."
"I don't know why everyone is unwilling to visit me..."
"Hmm?" Alexander was listening with great interest as Nurgle rambled about some very old things, when he suddenly felt a gaze.
The gaze felt somewhat familiar to him, but this familiarity didn't come from himself, but from the Eldar Pantheon?
Alexander slightly raised his head and looked towards a room high up in the Black Demon Mansion; he felt a soft gaze coming from there.
"Come quickly!! Come quickly!! Hee hee hee! The thick soup is here!"
Before Alexander's gaze could linger much longer, he heard Nurgle's eager voice.
"This is a thick soup I quickly brewed, I was a bit rushed, so it's a little thin, with only a mere two thousand two hundred types of bacteria."
"I hope you don't mind!"
Alexander silently looked at the bowl of thick soup that Nurgle had forced into his hand.
The dark green thick soup, covered in a rainbow-colored oil slick, continuously swirled in a bowl forged from rusted black iron. The liquid was as viscous as asphalt, occasionally bubbling and bursting, shattering the festering abscesses accumulated in the soup, and releasing a putrid black gas.
He seemed to see an entire Nurgle daemons world settled in the soup bowl, constantly decaying, regenerating, and then decaying again. He also seemed to see 7.7 billion mortals struggling and twisting their bodies among the 2,200 types of bacteria in the thick soup, emitting unbearable wails.
Undoubtedly, this bowl of soup contained Nurgle's diligent labor, profound love, and unreserved generosity towards a friend.
The soup contained Nurgle's power. If a mortal were to drink it and withstand its power, they would likely instantly ascend to daemon Prince, eternally uncorrupted and immortal.
The putrid black gas emanating from the thick soup uncontrollably wafted towards Alexander's nose. The intense smell assailed Alexander's olfactory nerves. The Adaptive Lamp's immunity effect included poisonous gas, so the toxicity of the smell was removed, leaving only a strong scent that relentlessly burrowed into Alexander's nose, invading his brain.
Alexander was currently using the body of Greater Daemon, whose strength was enough to rival a Chief Greater Daemon, but the smell of this thick soup still made Alexander feel like he was hallucinating.
He seemed to see the Emperor, far in the distance, waving at him, as if he would have to join him on the Golden Throne if he drank this bowl of thick soup.
Drinking Nurgle's thick soup, along with scamming Tzeentch, defeating Slaanesh, and raping Khorne, was one of the four most extreme acts in the Warp.
The Adaptive Lamp could resist all environmental damage, but it was unlikely to resist Nurgle's thick soup.
Thick soup consumed into the stomach was clearly not part of the environment. The damage caused to Alexander by drinking Nurgle's thick soup was equivalent to drinking a bowl of Nurgle's thick soup.
Alexander could drink the thick soup with an item, but he might not necessarily drink the thick soup with an item, so Alexander could not drink the thick soup. At most, he could drink a little thick soup.
Alexander's brain was assaulted by the thick soup's strong smell, feeling as if the stench went straight from the tip of his nose to the crown of his head, making his head feel pointy.
"Drink it quickly! Although it was made in a hurry, this soup is still my masterpiece!" Nurgle urged with a chuckle, pulling Alexander's disordered thoughts back from the intense smell of the thick soup.
Alexander held his breath, his expression twitching as he looked at Nurgle's thick soup in his hand.
As expected of the most terrifying food in the entire Warhammer world, just smelling the potent, detoxified scent filtered by the Adaptive Lamp made his brain start to argue with itself, speaking in promises and broken vows.
With his breath held, Alexander's head gradually recovered from the assault of the strong stench, and his consciousness became clear again.
Nurgle's thick soup, once ingested, was not part of the environment, so the Adaptive Lamp was clearly useless.
And Alexander was using the body of Greater Daemon, so he didn't have a four-dimensional pocket with him, nor could he trick his way out by stuffing it into a four-dimensional pocket.
Fortunately, Alexander had anticipated this possibility before coming. He rubbed a small bottle fixed in his palm with Body Clay.
The bottle gently shook, sprinkling a few drops of crystalline particles into the soup bowl, where they instantly melted away.
Alexander slightly loosened his nose, and the smell of Nurgle's thick soup once again wafted from the bowl.
But this time, the scent that entered Alexander's nose was no longer a strong putrid odor, but a mouth-watering aroma.
Alexander took a deep breath of the thick soup's aroma right in front of Nurgle.
"Fragrant! So fragrant! This thick soup is extremely fresh."
Alexander couldn't help but praise, then, under Nurgle's expectant gaze, he suddenly picked up the thick soup and drank it all in one gulp.
The rich flavor danced on Alexander's tongue, the thick soup slid down Alexander's throat, and the delicious aftertaste spread throughout his entire mouth and even his digestive system.
In an instant, Alexander felt as if every cell in his body was expressing one emotion:
Delicious!
Alexander had never tasted such delicious food.
He even felt a sense of emotion, tears welling up in his eyes. Under the shocked gazes of Nurgle and the surrounding Nurgle daemons, he drank the remaining soup in the bowl to the last drop, not even sparing the rusted black iron bowl, devouring it in a few bites.
[Item Name: Source of MSG]
[Origin: 22nd Century Earth — Future Department Store]
[Production Time: 281.M3]
[Function: Looks like ordinary MSG, but with stronger effects. Any unpalatable or inedible item, once sprinkled with it, can become delicious food, even if it was originally not food.]
Alexander, without changing his expression, extended his hand towards Nurgle.
"Another bowl!!"
Through the window of the Black Magic Hall, Isha, the Eldar Goddess of Life, stared dumbfounded at the scene outside the window.
She had sensed the Eldar God of Death visiting Nurgle's Garden, and out of curiosity, came to see this new brother.
The result was a scene that Isha would never forget in her life.
She saw Alexander pick up Nurgle's thick soup, bring it to his mouth, swirl it around, and drink it all, then swallow the bowl as well.
That wasn't all; this new Eldar God of Death even extended his hand to Nurgle, shouting for another bowl.
Nurgle was overjoyed, bouncing to the cauldron to ladle another full bowl for Alexander.
Still, he drank it all, still, not even the bowl was left, and still, he continued to shout for another bowl.
Then came the third bowl, the fourth, the fifth... By the seventh bowl, Nurgle even started to shed tears of emotion.
Those thick, viscous tears, filled with countless plagues, fell into the soup bowl, but Alexander still drank it all.
Isha began to feel a little afraid. She had drunk Nurgle's thick soup before; she was always the first to taste each new batch brewed.
She knew the suffering that came after drinking Nurgle's thick soup; even digesting the plague from one bowl was extremely difficult for her.
And this brother of hers...
"Brother, stop drinking, stop drinking, I'm scared..."
Isha muttered, trembling. Her gaze towards Alexander was no longer like looking at her youngest brother, but rather like looking at something terrifying.
It wasn't just Isha who was observing this scene.
Two other gazes were also constantly focused on Alexander.
In Slaanesh's boudoir, Slaanesh, who was murmuring Alexander's name and enjoying the pleasure of 'edge play' with the old crone sword, which contained part of Ynnead's, or Alexander's, power, widened his eyes.
The constantly vibrating and heating old crone sword fell from his navel, bouncing on the velvet-covered bed.
He stared dumbfounded at the scene unfolding in Nurgle's Garden in the distance.
At the same time, the Custodians in the Terra Imperial Palace watched the scene before them in shock.
The Emperor's corpse-like remains on the Golden Throne suddenly stirred.
His hand pressed down on the armrest, his body leaning slightly forward, leaving the backrest, his neck extending, his head reaching out, and his eye sockets seemingly widened considerably, as if he were craning his neck to look at something unbelievable in the distance.
I wish I could stand up and watch! I wish I could stand up and watch!
Almost all the Custodians vaguely felt the emotions surging from the Emperor.
Besides these two, there was one more who noticed what was happening in Nurgle's Garden.
In Tzeentch's Crystal Labyrinth, the Lord of Change constantly observed the changes in destiny within Nurgle's Garden.
He and Nurgle were sworn enemies, clashing since the distant past.
The domains of decay and change always collided, and their destinies were tightly intertwined.
So Tzeentch immediately noticed a change in destiny occurring in Nurgle's Garden.
This was quite rare; very little that could be called unexpected happened in that garden.
Had he created a new Greater Daemon? Gained a new chosen one? Cultivated a virus capable of harming divinity?
Tzeentch couldn't help but lean closer to the crystal mirror reflecting destiny, peeking at the scene in Nurgle's Garden.
He saw that figure, bowl after bowl, devouring Nurgle's thick soup.
Tzeentch was shocked.
He could discern that the figure did not belong to Nurgle's domain.
A figure not belonging to Nurgle's domain had almost drunk an entire pot of Nurgle's thick soup?
He hastily observed the figure's identity, then realized it was the figure who had resurrected Roboute Guilliman and Sanguinius, a figure somewhat outside of his plans.
"No, no, everything is according to plan."
Tzeentch violently shook his head. He began to outline the destiny before him again.
The thread symbolizing Nurgle's destiny became entangled in the near future, colliding with Tzeentch's and Ultramar's.
But Tzeentch quickly pulled a black thread towards it.
"The one thousand six hundred and ninety-fourth bowl."
Alexander said to Nurgle, while gnawing on the rusted black iron bowl in his mouth.
The bowl had also been sprinkled with the item 'Source of MSG' and turned into delicious food.
Relying on this item, Alexander, in the body of Greater Daemon, had devoured one thousand six hundred and ninety bowls of Nurgle's thick soup in one go.
As he drank, he even felt that the body of Greater Daemon seemed to have gained an instinct.
The instinct for making soup.
He seemed to have learned how to brew his own unique thick soup by drinking Nurgle's power-infused thick soup.
This should be the power he acquired from Nurgle's thick soup, though he didn't yet know what the effect of the soup he brewed would be.
Alexander licked his lips, somewhat unsatisfied, and said to Nurgle:
"Another bowl."
He had gained power from the Domain of Greedy Dissolution, which enhanced Alexander's appetite, allowing him to eat an abnormally large amount of food.
It was precisely for this reason that Alexander hadn't felt full in a long time.
This time, drinking thick soup at Nurgle's place, he felt about five-tenths full.
Nurgle, hearing Alexander's request for another bowl, was moved to tears, his face full of emotion, looking at Alexander as if he were a soulmate.
He hurriedly ran to his cauldron, reaching for the ladle to serve him another full bowl of thick soup.
But Nurgle's moved expression instantly turned into deep guilt. He returned to Alexander's side with deep self-reproach:
"It's... it's all gone. There's none left..."