Nurgle had never felt so ashamed.
In the Warp's long, meaningless years, Nurgle had countless times tried to get beings outside his domain to taste his stew.
But whether it was Tzeentch, Khorne, Slaanesh, the Emperor, Asuryan, Khaine, Vashtorr, or the Great Devourer, none of them had ever drunk a single bowl, always rudely refusing Nurgle.
Only Gork and Mork had tentatively tried one bowl, and only Isha drank a bowl from every pot.
And drinking an entire pot in one go, even in Nurgle's Garden, was something only Kugath had ever done.
When Alexander drank his seventh bowl, Nurgle couldn't help but begin to sob.
A kindred spirit! A brother! A close friend!
A being who loved his stew, was close in power, and was skilled at creating bacteria, was a dream friend for Nurgle.
But, but it was such a kindred spirit, and Nurgle had not hosted him well.
He had prepared the stew too hastily; Alexander had clearly not drunk his fill.
Nurgle felt like a complete failure, so rude of him.
Especially when he saw the slight look of regret in Alexander's eyes upon hearing that the stew was finished.
Nurgle felt his spirit severely wounded; an uncontrollable pain surged within him.
The entire Nurgle's Garden seemed to sense Nurgle's mood.
From the Maw-Trees to the nurglings, from the Great Unclean Ones to the plaguebearers, every single thing in Nurgle's Garden involuntarily bowed its head, a surge of sadness and guilt welling up in its heart, softly sobbing.
The regret in Alexander's eyes was not false.
Before coming to Nurgle's Garden, Alexander had tried an item called the 'Essence of Umami'.
This was a very magical item; theoretically, after sprinkling it, anything could become delicious food.
Things touched by the Essence of Umami underwent no physical, chemical, or Warp changes; metal remained hard, Psyker energy remained hot, yet they became delicious and palatable, perfectly fitting the definition of gourmet food.
And Alexander discovered that the more unpalatable something was, the more delicious it became after sprinkling the Essence of Umami on it.
And Nurgle's stew happened to be the most unpalatable thing in the entire physical universe and the Warp.
In other words, there was probably no food more delicious in this world than Nurgle's stew with the Essence of Umami sprinkled on it.
Alexander didn't even know how to describe the taste of Nurgle's stew as it entered his mouth.
The oil was fragrant and mellow, the pus-sacs soft and tender, the fungi crisp and soft, the broth thick like maltose; just smelling it made one feel as if their soul had been elevated.
After tasting it, it brought even more delightful surprises.
That novel texture, a smooth sensation with just the right amount of stimulation, as if every taste bud was activated, savoring every delicacy in the galaxy.
Alexander's face was full of regret; he was only half-full this round, far from satisfied.
"Ah, forgive me" Alexander let out a profound sigh.
Nurgle was in tears, looking at Alexander with many words he wanted to say, but he couldn't utter a single one.
Finally, a thousand words transformed into one: "I'm sorry, I didn't host you well."
Alexander looked up at the somewhat flustered, honest green fat man in front of him and couldn't help but offer comfort:
"My appetite is too strong; your soup is truly delicious."
Hearing this, a joyful light instantly appeared in Nurgle's small, tear-covered eyes.
Alexander organized his words and spoke to Nurgle from the bottom of his heart:
"It was like a joyful coupling with the Lord of Excess."
As Alexander spoke, a ripple stirred in the Warp.
"Huh???" Slaanesh rose from his couch, eyes wide.
"It was like the sense of honor when serving the Emperor faithfully."
Above the Golden Throne, the Emperor's withered hand clenched tightly.
"It was like the satisfaction of being filled with knowledge by the Lord of Change."
A confused caw echoed in Tzeentch's Crystal Labyrinth.
"It was like an honorable duel with the Blood God."
Khorne showed no reaction; he was busy trying to cultivate a new Chief Greater Daemon.
Nurgle couldn't help but wipe away tears from the corners of his eyes, moved.
"Next time, next time I will definitely let you drink your fill." Nurgle's voice was so sincere it was almost touching, like an old friend inviting another for a late-night drink.
Alexander nodded, recalling the soup-making method he had just comprehended while savoring Nurgle's stew.
"Next time I'll make soup for you to try, to test my cooking skills." Alexander said seriously, "Let's stop here for now; let's talk about some serious business first."
"Alright, alright."
Nurgle nodded repeatedly, looking as if whatever Alexander said was law.
He waved his hand, and hornbeam branches suddenly grew from the ground, forming a chair beneath Alexander's backside.
A similar chair also appeared beneath Nurgle's backside, and the two sat opposite each other in front of the Black Magic Hall, conversing.
"Let us discuss serious matters," Nurgle said, nodding to Alexander.
"Do you have any special insights into bacterial cultivation—?"
"Can the plague raging on Ultramar—?"
Both spoke at the same time, but their topics were completely unrelated.
Both paused for a moment, but Nurgle reacted faster.
He quickly corrected himself, saying, "Yes, yes, let's talk about the children's matters first."
"I don't want to stop Guilliman from seeing his father, even if my relationship with his father isn't good."
Nurgle said with some annoyance and frustration:
"But how can I stop a child from seeing his badly injured father? How can I do that?"
"But little Mortarion wants me to do this; he wants me to stop little Guilliman and make him wander on Ultramar."
Saying this, Nurgle sighed, shaking his massive head.
Alexander looked at Nurgle, stroking his chin, carefully choosing his words.
Through the tracking mirror, he already knew that it was Mortarion who wanted Guilliman to wander on Ultramar.
Nurgle himself actually had no intention of trapping Guilliman; Nurgle didn't care about such things.
"Guilliman will eventually leave Ultramar; trying to trap him like this will only displease everyone."
Alexander said, carefully choosing his words:
"If you are willing to withdraw your obstruction, I can—"
"My friend!"
Nurgle interrupted Alexander, shaking his head vigorously, saying:
"Do you think I'm unwilling to listen to your plea? Do you think I'm too stingy to help my kindred spirit?"
"This isn't a matter of interest; it's that child, little Mortarion; he's always gloomy and unhappy."
"If I disregard his request, I don't know what kind of tantrum he'll throw, and he'll bottle it up inside. I don't want to see him sad."
Listening to Nurgle's words, Alexander lightly pressed the deduction hat on his head.
His thoughts instantly became much clearer.
He had underestimated; for Nurgle, interest was not the key driver of his actions, but emotion.
His affection for Mortarion was real; he truly hoped his child could be happier, even going against his own nature to obstruct Guilliman for this.
Alexander wanted to persuade him, but he couldn't approach it from the perspective of interest.
After all, Nurgle truly regarded everything in his domain as family, unlike some blue bird who saw everything as pawns.
"Then let's not talk about that."
Alexander said with a smile:
"I think we can talk about experiences in bacterial cultivation."
Hearing this, Nurgle's eyes suddenly lit up, casting a joyful gaze at Alexander.
"You may already know that I have cultivated many interesting bacteria."
Saying this, Alexander took out several petri dishes from his embrace and handed one to Nurgle.
Nurgle couldn't help but reach out and touch the gently wriggling bacteria in one of the petri dishes.
The bacteria instantly took effect, and a layer of black hair immediately grew on Nurgle's head.
This hair was exactly two centimeters, not a bit more, not a bit less, absolutely precise, and inconspicuous on Nurgle's massive head.
But this was enough to surprise Nurgle; he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Look! I have hair! I have hair!"
Nurgle reached out and rubbed the hair on his head, laughing heartily.
He was not happy because he had grown hair, but because this bacteria could actually cause a change in him, a Warp god.
The bacteria Alexander cultivated could actually affect him!
Then wouldn't even his fellow gods be unable to resist?
Nurgle had always been sad because they refused his gifts!
"Aren't you curious how I cultivated these bacteria?" Alexander said with a slight smile.
His finger subtly brushed the Hot Scene Clapperboard & Robot Director, instantly becoming the most excellent performer.
Nurgle leaned forward, his head close to Alexander's face, his eyes full of curiosity.
Alexander slightly lowered his voice, speaking with a hint of mystery:
"Nurgle, have you heard of numerology?"