Slaanesh's Influence Was Like a Raging Flood and Savage Beast!

If the Inquisitors of Inquisition saw this painting, they would probably let out a sharp roar on the spot:

"The Slaanesh trend is like a scourge, always poisoning Imperium young people! It's time to bring Exterminatus down!"

Isha was immersed in his own thoughts, and Slaanesh was about to put his arms around her waist.

Suddenly, a dark green light fell from the void and hit Slaanesh's divine realm, like a huge, moldy cake stuck on the pink palace.

A foul odor filled the air.

That stench was not an ordinary stench, but a stench that exceeded the Material Universe limit and was almost conceptual.

It's like ten thousand dead rats exploding at the same time, like the entire Milky Way landfill being opened at the same time, like a Orks old man who has never taken a bath and left his undershirt drying in the midsummer sun for three days.

Slaanesh's nose seemed to have suffered a physical blow at that moment. Its face twisted into a ball, its mouth opened, and it let out an earth-shattering, sharp blast, like a pig being killed.

"Nurgle--!!!"

Nurgle walked out of the dark green light, holding a green, sticky thing that exuded an endless stench in his bloated, abscessed hand.

He didn't even look at Slaanesh, but walked directly to Isha, stretched out his other hand, and his cloudy eyes were full of love.

"Follow me," Nurgle said, his voice as low as the mud at the bottom of the pond, "I will be good to you."

Isha looked at the green thing in Nurgle's hand, and then at Slaanesh's eyes that were still glowing with pink flames.

She made a choice in her heart at that moment - Slaanesh is a pain, Nurgle is disgusting for the rest of her life.

But does she still have a choice?

Slaanesh has already rushed over, waving his two swords, the pink flames collided with the dark green mist, and a dazzling light burst out.

The two Chaos Gods started a tug-of-war on the ruins of Eldar Pantheon. One wanted to drag Isha over, and the other wanted to pull Isha back.

Isha was caught in the middle, feeling like a piece of grass being gnawed by two cows at the same time, and could be torn in half at any time.

In the end, Nurgle won.

It's not because he is stronger, but because his smell is so bad.

Slaanesh struggled in the stench for a long time, and finally couldn't help but let go of his hand, covering his nose and taking a few steps back.

Nurgle took the opportunity to hug Isha into his arms, and the green flower of rotten flesh bloomed on his chest, swallowing Isha whole.

Nurgle is good to Isha.

It's not the kind of "I'll give you a golden house and I'll give you Yan Ruyu", but the kind of "I'll give you one-third of an acre of land and you can plant whatever you like".

He assigned her the most beautiful area in Nurgle's Garden. There was sunlight in that area - although it was a light green spot leaking through the leaden haze.

There is a water source - although it is pus seeping from rotten trees, it can also be used to water flowers after it has been purified by Isha's Psionic Energy.

There is soil - although it is humus scraped from the belly of Nurgle, Isha has washed it with the power of life for hundreds of years, and finally washed out a layer of fairly fertile black soil.

Isha There are many flowers planted here.

Roses, lilies, tulips, daffodils, lavender, daisies, sunflowers - she planted tens of thousands of flowers, each of which was cultivated from seed, and she poured her heart and soul into each one.

Her Garden of Nurgle is the most beautiful place in the entire Nurgle's Garden, bar none.

There was no rot, no stench, no pus and no maggots.

There are only green grass, clear streams, colorful flowers, and the unknown bird flying from another world.

Plaguebearers would occasionally come to steal her flowers. When she found out, they would shrink into a ball and look at her pitifully with their innocent little eyes.

Isha couldn't bear to blame them, so he would pick a few flowers and give them to them every time.

Plaguebearer held flowers and jumped away, singing children's songs out of tune.

But every day, Nurgle will do one thing.

In the evening, when the light green spot dims, Nurgle will stagger over carrying his big pot.

The pot was made of copper, with layers of dried soup stuck on the rim, a dark green flame burning at the bottom, and a thick, bubbling green soup that made people want to vomit at the first sight.

Nurgle's smile is as kind as ever, like an old father feeding his daughter.

"Come, have some soup."

Nurgle scooped up a spoonful of thick soup and handed it to Isha's mouth.

Isha looked at the spoon of soup.

The color of the soup is dark green, with a layer of gray foam floating on the surface, and some solid, irregular pieces can be vaguely seen under the foam.

She didn't know what those little pieces were, and she didn't want to know.

Because she knew that the soup was mixed with seven new viruses, three super bacteria, and two strains of fungi that specialized in devouring psychic defenses that Nurgle had recently developed this week.

After drinking it, her body will break out hundreds of diseases in a short period of time, from fever and cough to skin ulcers to internal necrosis. Every step is precise and painful.

But her life authority will cure all these diseases within a few hours.

Then the next day, Nurgle will bring a new pot of soup and a new disease.

Isha took the spoon, took a deep breath, and then took a deep breath.

The smell - how should I put it - is an exaggeration to say it tastes like shit.

Real poop is a product of digestion and has specific ingredients and structure.

The soup of Nurgle is the essence of Chaos energy and corrupt substances that have been concentrated and re-concentrated after being boiled in the Psionic Energy furnace for countless years.

Its taste cannot be described as "stinky" - it is a kind of blasphemy to the origin of life that transcends the five senses and reaches directly to the soul level.

The moment he drank it, Isha felt like fireworks were being set off in his mouth, not the kind of gorgeous fireworks, but the kind of chemical weapons that explode and spit out thick green smoke.

Her throat was burning, her stomach was churning, and every fiber of her being was screaming.

She held back from vomiting.

It's not because she is strong, but because she knows that if she spits it out, Nurgle will happily say "Oh, it doesn't taste good? I'll cook another pot", and then bring a new, stronger, and more palatable pot the next day.

So she chose to swallow it expressionlessly and then forced out a smile.

"It tastes good," she said.

Nurgle nodded with satisfaction, took the pot and left.

His back was getting farther and farther in the dusk, and the pot swayed in his hand, making a "creak" sound.

Isha lay on the ground, looking at the lead-gray haze.

Her body was feverish, her skin was rashing, and her internal organs were aching.

She coughed several times and coughed up a pool of dark red blood clots.

There was something crawling in the blood clot. It was a newly developed parasite by Nurgle, which specifically lives in the lungs of Psionic Energy organisms.

She weakly raised her hand, and blue-white Psionic Energy light condensed on her fingertips.

The light was like moonlight, cold and soft, flowing slowly from her fingertips and throughout her body.

Wherever the light passed, the rash subsided, the pain eased, and the parasite turned into a puddle of pus, which she coughed out from her throat.