"This may be our last chance to plunder."
"Once the Blood God reacts, the passage to Blood Soil will be defended layer upon layer, and his wrath will descend—"
Ron said this.
The choice facing the gods was simple:
Do nothing, and wait for the God of Blood and War to come knocking in revenge.
Or seize the chance to strike while he was vulnerable, raid Blood Soil savagely, and leave him weakened.
Ron believed that beings like the Lord of Pleasure knew which choice to make. After all, their earlier backstabbing had already enraged the Blood God.
What was more, with such a perfect opportunity to plunder, these greedy Supreme Beings would never let it slip by.
Never mind them—even Ron himself could not bear to give up such a fine chance to attack Blood Soil.
"Gods, I see the path of the future. It is a change woven by fate, leading us toward the fertile soil of slaughter, all things..." The Lord of Change was the first to agree. He took the form of a blue Great Raven, his voice obscure and indistinct, faintly revealing a trace of excitement.
"The God of Conspiracy is right. This is destined fate. Everything is within the plan."
Ron cut in midway, agreeing with that old schemer Tzeentch. He knew that this Troublemaker had long since been itching to stir up trouble on Blood Soil.
Back during the Plague War, when Grandfather Nurgle was at his most glorious, it had also been this fellow jumping up and down, ultimately bringing about the siege of the Garden of Nurgle by existences such as The Emperor and Khorne, nearly beating that kindly father flat on his back.
The Great Raven, that Troublemaker, would not miss such a perfect opportunity. To him, the chaotic assaults