After Nurgle picked Lin Fan up on the tip of his finger, he made no further move and continued focusing on stirring the soup. His attitude was exceptionally friendly, but few creatures in this world could endure his kindness. On this tiny patch of land Lin Fan stood upon alone, he had already seen countless corpses trapped in the cycle of life and death. Their bodies were wrapped in mud, fungi, and vines, with only damp arms and swollen, clouded eyeballs protruding through the gaps.
Lin Fan rubbed his head, considering what he should do next. Then he recalled what The Emperor had told him: Nurgle, whose power had surged greatly, was spreading his gifts across the entire Milky Way. Many worlds had already been ravaged by plague, and the troops on those planets were desperately fighting plague zombies.
Since I'm already here, I might as well weaken Nurgle a little.
As for the demonic sword, Lin Fan figured it could not cause much trouble after being reduced to nothing but a hilt.
Lin Fan looked up and could only see seven incomplete, hazy points of light in the murky sky. Beyond that, he could not make out any details in the distance.
Endless miasma obscured everything, forming a thick blanket draped over Nurgle's bloated body.
With a sharp swish, a huge glob of green-and-yellow viscous liquid was flung into the pot. Nurgle added a few more ingredients to enhance the flavor.
The sight immediately made Lin Fan nauseous. He had thought that after watching those videotapes, he would have built up an extremely strong resistance to disgusting scenes like this. But he had underestimated the terrifying power of smell, sound, sight, and other senses acting together.
Lin Fan's face turned white, then yellow, then white again. His stomach churned