As Nurgle finished speaking, his entire demeanor slowly changed, kindly tolerance giving way to stern admonition.
Nature was both accommodating and harsh. Nurgle had finally become serious, revealing the other side of his essential nature. This severity was likewise warped by the power of decay. Nurgle's body was no longer covered in viscous, damp swamps, replaced instead by sharp, withered thornbushes. The greatly swollen pustules also turned into hard blood scabs.
Countless daemons formed within and outside Nurgle's body, flying toward Isha. Magnus, who had made an agreement with Nurgle beforehand, also stopped pretending. He shut his eyes tightly, held his breath, and floated motionlessly in the air.
"Hey... do you know what I'm thinking?" Leman Russ said to Isha. "Tie up this fool with vines, then throw us over there."
Following Leman Russ's gesture, Isha saw the scarred Perfect City. Leman Russ believed the Word Bearers inside would clash with these Nurgle daemons. After all, the place looked exceptionally clean and gleaming; it was obviously not meant to be used as a shit pit.
Isha nodded, wrapped vines around Magnus, and hurled him viciously toward the Perfect City. Even though Magnus had brought Gork and Mork and Nurgle down upon them, Isha thoughtfully prepared a helmet made of hard wood for him. After all, the road ahead was far from smooth.
Countless spires collapsed beneath Magnus's impact, worsening the situation inside the Perfect City. Though the Word Bearers Legion had displayed exceptional resilience in the face of countless disasters, they still found it difficult to steer the Perfect City's fate in a better direction.
Harsh Nurgle had nurtured savage daemons. Their objective was clear, and they had no mind for play. They swore to use every means possible to bring Isha back to Grandfather's side.
Amid the ringing of