Ku'gath's Thick Soup

He silently stretched out his skinny palms and slowly held up the bowl of turbid soup. His fingertips touched the coolness of the bowl wall, and the indescribable smell of decay lingered on the tip of his nose.

The thick soup lay quietly in the bowl, and the strange smell mixed with decay, pus, and poisonous miasma rushed to the face. The taste was so bad that it was unimaginable.

The most filthy and foul-smelling poisons in the world are sweet in comparison.

The taste of this bowl of thick soup is enough to be billions of times more stench than the filthiest and most desperate filth in the world, and it is enough to defeat the bottom line of any living being's senses.

The rich rotten smell poured into the throat, and the pungent stench swept through the whole body. When the thick soup slowly slid into the mouth, extreme nausea and pain instantly swept through all Mortarion's senses.

The strong stench lingered on the tip of his tongue, and the sticky feeling was suffocating. The endless power of filth surged in his mouth, making his brows furrowed, and the resistance and disgust between his brows were undisguised.

Even though he has been infected by poisonous miasma for thousands of years, has been tempered by all kinds of poisons, and has developed a body that is invulnerable to all poisons, Mortarion still cannot stand the weird taste of this bowl of plague soup.

To this day, deep in his soul, he still has an instinctive resistance and disdain for the corrupting power of Nurgle.

He has never truly surrendered to this corrupt Chaos Gods, and has never willingly embraced this filthy corruption.

In the desperate situation back then, if it weren't for Destiny's trick, if it weren't for the destiny of his children to be tightly shackled, he would never have surrendered to this corrupt lord, let alone become the corrupt Daemon Primarch under Nurgle.

All kinds of unwillingness and all kinds of resistance have always lingered in the depths of his soul and never dissipated.

But now, everything is irreversible.

His soul has long been firmly shackled by the contract of Nurgle, his body has been completely infiltrated by the power of decay, and the sacred mark of Nurgle is engraved deep in his soul. He has completely become a slave of the Lord of Decay and can no longer break free.

No matter how much resistance he felt in his heart, no matter how disgusted he was with all this filth, he had no choice but to compromise.

At this moment, this bowl of foul-smelling plague soup contains the rich original power of Nurgle, which can heal the wounds all over his body and suppress the erosion of the blue-gold holy fire. It is the only treasure that can relieve the pain of his body at this moment.

Even though the taste was extremely bad, he could only endure the discomfort in his heart and swallow slowly.

A bowl of thick plague soup slowly entered my stomach.

The power of viscous poison slowly flows through the limbs and bones, and the decaying energy permeates the whole body, slowly flowing towards the ferocious scar on the shoulder.

The blue-gold holy fire lingering on the wound still exudes a cold pressure, stubbornly resisting the erosion of the power of decay. Two completely different forces quietly confront each other in his body.

The healing process is extremely slow and subtle enough to be difficult to detect.

The power of decay seeped into the scars bit by bit, slowly suppressing the burning of the sacred fire. The ulcers of the skin slowly stopped, and the broken flesh and blood slowly repaired at a speed that was difficult to detect with the naked eye.

The process is long and torturous, and the weak healing power slowly spreads, bit by bit, slowly and persistently.

Even though the repair speed was extremely slow, it finally brought a glimmer of hope and gave his tortured body a faint solace.

Mortarion slowly lowered his hand, looking blankly at the miasma in the distance Chaos, his deep voice was hoarse and obscure, echoing faintly in the silence.

"Guilliman... Why, you finally chose to embrace the power of Psionic Energy."

This sentence is like Whisper deep in the soul, with no answer and no one to talk to.

He ignored Ku'gath who was beside him and tried to comfort him, nor did he respond to this kind monster's consolation.

Among this quiet Nurgle's Garden, Ku'gath is undoubtedly the gentlest and most honest existence.

As the ancient Greater Daemon under the command of Nurgle, he has a gentle temperament, a generous heart, and is generous and tolerant towards others. He never gets angry easily. He treats the monsters under his command and the creatures that accidentally enter this place with a fatherly and tolerant attitude.

Especially for Mortarion and Ku'gath, they have always been regarded as brothers walking side by side. The two met at the beginning of the fall, shared weal and woe, and had a deep friendship.

During the years when Mortarion had just stepped into this decadent land, full of resistance, full of hostility towards Nurgle Chaos Gods, and always wary of everything around him, only Ku'gath was always by his side, accepting all his unruliness and anger with a tolerant mind.

At that time, Mortarion had just fallen into the abyss, his body was eroded by the power of decay, his soul was tortured, his heart was filled with resentment towards Imperium, and he was unwilling to accept Destiny. Facing everything Nurgle faced, he maintained extreme hostility and resistance.

Just when he was filled with despair, trapped in endless pain and resentment, and unable to extricate himself, Ku'gath brought news that was enough to shake his soul.

The great Grandfather Nurgle had already understood his lifelong obsession, spent endless power in the abyss, crossed thousands of star fields, traversed the gaps in time and space, and went through all the troubles to find the demonic adoptive father who tortured him all his life - the corrupt Xenos who believed in Nurgle.

Even after the passage of time, even after crossing the barriers of time and space, the loving father still firmly locked the soul of Xenos, imprisoning it in the dark corner of Nurgle's Garden, enduring the torture of decay every day, quietly waiting for the arrival of Mortarion.

The moment this news reached Mortarion's ears, all the pain, all the fatigue, and all the frustration disappeared.