This is the True Half-Immortal

Edison once said, "Homegrown flowers are never as fragrant as wild ones." I don't know who Tesla is, but this elephant must die, and it must be electrocuted by alternating current.

Science is about science, but scientists aren't necessarily scientific. As the saying goes, wherever there are people, there are conflicts, even among Daemon.

As a limited edition figure, everyone wants the Primarch, even if it's incompatible and makes God unhappy. Tzeentch would never give up on Perturabo, who is Eleven-to-one like a Xenos by the Lord of Change.

Tzeentch had his eye on ponies, and he started setting things up the moment Magnus opened his eyes, managing to capture every legitimate entity he could find in the Warp and pass them off as peacocks.

But as Warp Chaos God formed from extreme emotions, knowing when to stop is not an option. The more Primarch the better, and the Yellow Skins are impossible to communicate with. If I only take one of the 21 Primarch, who will be satisfied?

So you have to grab it; grabbing it is like making a profit, and making a profit is awesome.

Tzeentch stole Magnus, Perturabo, and Koz. The Khorne stole Angron, Omega, and later Magnus, which they acquired for free.

Slaanesh, the strongest lesser god, was born relatively late. Although the Chaos God One Proof of Eternity, existence does not equate to strength. The Ferrus he seized can only be considered half of it. Adding the five Sanguinius, it's not a complete loss.

However, compared to Slaanesh's willingness but inability, Nurgle was much more focused; he wanted Mortarion.

And this choice was undoubtedly correct. Don't be fooled by the fact that Nurgle only took one; at least it's a good match for his profession. Even though Mortarion is a God-Human, you have to consider who he's compared to.

The Khorne have the most Daemon Primarch, but Omega is just as powerful as Alpharius, and he comes in with a line like "I am Alpharius, and you are Alpharius too," which makes even the Bloodthirsty Demon want to call himself Alpharius.

Angron is even more abstract; after being captured by Khorne, he actually thought of writing poems for Him, using the most beautiful language imaginable. Moreover, Angron is different from Dorn.

Dorn is unyielding and his will cannot be broken, Angron is purely a coward. You can ask me to call him "Dad," or even "Mom," but you can't make me do any work. I'll just write a little essay and recite it to you right next to the Brass Throne.

With two God-Human serving me, the Khorne was completely overwhelmed. This was more terrifying than having ten thousand Dorn whispering "I am Rogal Dorn" in his ear.

Enraged, he cursed the Yellow Skins as a useless piece of trash who couldn't even raise a son, while grabbing Angron's head with his right hand and pulling his pigtail with his left, trying to bring Omega to his senses.

I finally got my hands on an incredibly imposing Magnus, thinking I'd throw him into the sand to brainwash him and get him a new class. But even though he did get a new class and his boxing skills were impressive, he somehow picked up Dorn's habit of shouting, "I am Magnus!"

There are countless examples like this. Even the weakest Slaanesh is getting impatient with Ferrus. After all, even if it's a fake, Ferrus is still Ferrus, an ultimate Dahl.

Moreover, the world where the fakes live doesn't have Yellow Skins, it has Black Skins. In the eyes of the Steel Sin Serpent, although I'm a drug addict who hangs out with brothels, I'm still the Primarch. These Daemon are no longer just ordinary slackers; I have to control them properly.

It seems that the Four Merchants have become powerful offspring of the Emperor, but in reality, they have recruited a group of God-Human. The Abstract Maneuver is so abstract that even Daemon would say it's too extreme. Isn't this just another kind of tragic love story?

Everyone Loves the Archangel, not because Sanguinius are so great, but mainly because there's no other choice, but that's not the main issue.

Just like Mordred once poached members from the Four Gods to form the Burning Legion, the saying "It's not scarcity that's the problem, but inequality" applies everywhere.

Even the native Chaos Daemons couldn't understand why they were treated so differently from the Primarchs. Why were they beaten and scolded? They were the ones who fought alongside their own gods to conquer the land. Was it really true that wildflowers always smelled better than garden flowers?

This also includes the seemingly loving and harmonious Nurgle Daemon.

Seeing Mortarion tinkering with his so-called Numerology again, the group of Great Unclean One objected without a second thought, advising the Nurgle, "You're fooling yourself! He's just trying to deceive you!"

The great and Nurgle began to think!

But the Nurgle just doesn't want to think about it!

But in the end, the Nurgle fell into deep thought!

"Kugath, what do you think?"

Kugath, the most favored traitor among Nurgle, swayed his massive body, and little Nurgling emerged from the pustules, dancing around their good friend.

Because Nurgle refuses to change and is too lazy to create Daemon forms, Nurgle Daemon look pretty much the same. He is a size 1, the Great Insolence is a size 1, and the Nurgling is the smallest, they are all copy-pasted.

Seeing everyone looking at him, the somewhat aloof Kugath, who was a little socially awkward, was the only one present who believed in Mortarion: "Nurgle, you don't know, I didn't believe it at first either. When Mortarion came to teach me what the Holy Numbers were, I even felt that he was humiliating me."

What do you mean by "seven here, three there"? And that Numerology is a rigorous science, even the Greater Daemon must abide by it.

At that time, I thought Mortarion was a complete liar, deceiving himself, trying to explain our exquisite art of cultivating plague with a string of nonsensical numbers, just like those unpleasant birdmen, but...

Although they all looked almost identical, the demons could see a trace of piety in Kugath's beady eyes, which were covered in pus and putrid fluid.

"But then I realized that the Empyrean has true feelings, and this Numerology is not wrong at all!"

If you don't believe me, you can have Mortarion demonstrate it right here!

The demons looked at Mortarion, unfazed, casually tossed his braid, revealing his gleaming white teeth. Even though the demons disliked him, they couldn't help but exclaim, "That's confidence! His smile exudes confidence!"

The blackboard was laid flat, accompanied by whispers of "One begets two, two begets three, three begets all things, six is the end"—seven bone dice spun rapidly in his hand, and then, like shooting stars, were slammed into the blackboard with tremendous force.

"Look, three fives, three sevens, and one is thirteen."

The demons looked at each other, even the Nurgle scratched his head, looking at Mortarion with a blank expression. Only Kugath couldn't help but hum softly, looking as if he were proud of himself.

"What does it mean?"

"Three 5s add up to 15, and 3 corresponds to 7, and the last one happens to be 13. Therefore, I believe that there is an existence that corresponds to you, my Nurgle, who is stealing your power to heal the False Emperor. It seems to be the False Emperor, but this person is not the False Emperor, but Luojia."

"..

The Nurgle was deeply shocked. He hadn't paid attention to it before, but after Mortarion said that, he did feel a very subtle emptiness, but he couldn't find where that power came from.

Seeing that their Nurgle had actually believed Mortarion's lies, the group of Great Unclean One became truly anxious.

"No, why are you all so concerned about this? Shouldn't you be asking why a 7 was rolled on a 6-sided die? Even if it was a 7, I'd accept it, but what about the 13?"

Rainfather Rotigus stretched out his big, fat hand. He had clearly seen that the die only had six sides, but he still managed to roll a 13.

This was clearly Mortarion's doing. The thought of being summoned by the Nurgle for this, while Mortarion was still acting all high and mighty, fooling them like fools, made Rotigus unable to hold back any longer. "Nurgle, you have seen it, long before he was born, he was a being from this Warp, you know that."

And now Mord is actually fooling you; he's a complete wizard, even more so than Magnus.

What kind of Numerology? At least Magnus's sorcery came from knowledge, so people recognized it. But Mortarion? He doesn't even bother with the act anymore, just using a broken die to play tricks. This is simply—"

The Nurgle listened calmly to Rogettis's criticism of Mortarion, nodding and encouraging him to continue. After a full seven seconds of stunned silence, Rogettis finally found the word he was looking for. "This is feudal superstition! If it's true, then I'll prostrate myself before you, Mortarion, and acknowledge you as my father."

"But what if it's true?" Nurgle said, rubbing his forehead with his hand and frowning.

"Huh?" Rogtis laughed heartily, "Nurgle, I know you're doing this to save face for Mortarion, but you spoil him too much. Spoiling him too much will cause problems."

I also hope that Mortarion can see the error of his ways, but he just won't change his stubborn temper. I have to correct him today.

How about this, I'll go down one level. If it's true, then I'll acknowledge Typhus as my father and call you Mortarion, grandpa.

But if it's fake, I don't want anything from you. Just throw away this feudal superstition as soon as possible. We've really had enough of your absurd theories.

You Mortarion, wake up!

Rogetis truly Mortarion a brother, but this relationship was severed after Kugath was tricked by Mortarion. He genuinely wanted to rescue his friend and run freely in the Garden of Nurgle as before.

It hurts so much, it really hurts so much! How did our Garden of Nurgle become like this?

Rogetti was furious, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Strike Hard and smashed it into the dice. "These damn things are the ones that took my friend away!"

Then Rogitis let out a sharp, piercing roar.

"Ah!!! My hand!"

The destructive black flames Burning Fiercely, instantly burning Rogtis's large, fat hand into a skeleton. Mortarion, quick as a flash, swung his power club and knocked the arm away.

However, the strange phenomena did not stop. The flames on the withered bones turned from black to gold, and a Golden Giant inexplicably emerged from the flames.

Looking at the group of Daemon before him, the Emperor's eyes were empty. He thought to himself, "Something's not right. I just found Mortarion, how did he turn into Daemon? And he even has a pair of big wings."

I definitely can't win in a fight; I've already ended up in someone else's hometown. So why did I end up here? There's only one answer.

"Tzeentch, you bastard, was this part of your plan?"

Without any hesitation, the Emperor turned and disappeared back into the Warp Rift. The Daemon were dumbfounded, especially Rogtis, who immediately knelt at Mortarion's feet. "I was indeed a bit arrogant just now."

"It's alright, my dear grandson!"