(Thanks to Zizaixin'an for the tip bonus chapter 1/2)
The two souls ascended on the spot, slowly drifting away, drifting away from the realm of the Chaos Gods and returning to the real universe.
Only a heartbroken Nurgling remained behind. It lowered its head and trudged dejectedly home.
The Nurgling crossed the Garden of Nurgle, filled with fungal spores and plague plants, heading toward the chambers of Nurgle, the Chaos God.
Nurgle's residence lay in the deepest part of the Garden of Nurgle, where he had set up a great cauldron.
Nurgle's favorite pastime was brewing viruses in that cauldron and scattering them across the Milky Way Galaxy.
It was said that the Black Death in human history had been a virus brewed by Nurgle.
Nurgle himself looked much like a Nurgling, only a hundred times larger.
Nurgle and his plague cauldron.
Like a mountain of flesh, he sat before the cauldron. Layer upon layer of fat hung from his body, covered in pustules and festering sores!
Two enormous wooden antlers grew from his head. He held a ladle in his hand and ceaselessly stirred the pot.
Every so often, he would grab a handful of viruses and toss them into the cauldron, brewing viruses of even more terrifying potency!
Tens of thousands of tiny Nurglings followed at Nurgle's side. They chirped and chattered, noisily playing endless pranks.
While brewing viruses, Nurgle would occasionally cast loving glances at them.
Whenever he saw a few Nurglings fall while playing, he would let out an affectionate laugh and reach out to help the fallen Nurglings back up.
It was a tender scene of a loving father and dutiful children—until that sorrowful Nurgling returned.
The sad Nurgling wore a miserable expression, as though it had suffered some terrible grievance.
The words of the