Chapter 328: Emperor: Amazing! I Wish I Could Stand Up and Watch!

Zhou Yun silently stared at the bowl of thick broth forcibly shoved into his hands.

The ink-green broth, shimmering with a rainbow-hued oil film, swirled endlessly in a bowl forged from rusted black iron; its viscosity resembled asphalt, occasionally bubbling as ruptured pustules burst, releasing clouds of foul black stench.

He seemed to see an entire world of Nurgle's demons sunk within the bowl, decaying, reborn, and rotting again; he also saw seventy-seven billion mortals writhing in the broth, drowning in two thousand two hundred kinds of bacteria, screaming in unbearable agony.

Undoubtedly, this broth contained Nurgle's diligent labor, profound paternal love, and boundless generosity toward his friend.

The broth held Nurgle's power; if a mortal drank it and endured its force, they would instantly ascend into a demonic prince of Nurgle—eternally decaying, never dying.

The rotting black vapor rose uncontrollably toward Zhou Yun's nose, assaulting his olfactory nerves; the Adaptation Lamp's immunity to toxins stripped the stench of its poison, leaving only its brutal, invasive odor drilling into his nostrils and hammering his brain.

Zhou Yun now inhabited Fat Tiger's body, strong enough to rival a Chief Daemon, yet the broth's odor still induced hallucinations in him.

He seemed to see the Emperor far away, waving at him—as if drinking this broth meant he must join Him upon the Golden Throne.

Drinking Nurgle's broth ranks among the Four Great Feats of the Warp, alongside deceiving Tzeentch, defeating Slaanesh, and raping Khorne.

The Adaptation Lamp resists all environmental harm, but it likely cannot resist Nurgle's broth.

The broth once ingested clearly isn't part of the environment; drinking Nurgle's broth harms Zhou Yun exactly as drinking a bowl of Nurgle's broth would.

Zhou Yun could use an item to drink the broth, but using an item doesn't guarantee he'd drink it—so he couldn't drink the broth, at most sip a little.

The broth's overpowering odor assaulted Zhou Yun's brain, making the stench travel from his nostrils straight to the crown of his head, sharpening his skull.

"Drink up! It's rushed, but this broth is my masterpiece!" Nurgle chuckled, pulling Zhou Yun's scattered mind back from the broth's overwhelming stench.

Zhou Yun held his breath, his face twitching as he stared at the Nurgle broth in his hands.

No wonder it was the most terrifying food in the Warhammer world—just smelling the filtered, toxin-free stench had his mind warring with itself, muttering nonsense.

Holding his breath, Zhou Yun gradually recovered from the assault of the stench; his awareness sharpened once more.

The broth ingested into his belly was not part of the environment—so the Adaptation Lamp was useless.

And Zhou Yun was using Fat Tiger the Daemon's body, which carried no fourth-dimensional pocket—he couldn't hide the broth inside one.

Fortunately, Zhou Yun had anticipated this possibility. He rubbed a tiny bottle fixed to his palm by body clay.

The bottle trembled slightly, spilling a few glistening granules into the broth, which instantly dissolved.

Zhou Yun loosened his nose slightly; the Nurgle broth's odor surged back into his nostrils.

But this time, the scent entering his nose was no longer foul rot—it was an irresistible, mouthwatering aroma.

Zhou Yun inhaled deeply the broth's fragrance before Nurgle's eyes.

"Delicious! So delicious! This broth is incredibly fresh!"

Zhou Yun couldn't help but praise it, then, under Nurgle's expectant gaze, lifted the bowl and drained it in one gulp.

The rich flavor danced on his tongue; the thick broth slid down his throat, leaving a savory aftertaste spreading through his entire mouth and digestive system.

In an instant, Zhou Yun felt every single cell in his body expressing one single emotion:

Delicious!

He had never tasted anything so delicious.

He even felt moved, tears welling in his eyes; as Nurgle and the surrounding Nurgle daemons stared in shock, he sipped the last drops from the bowl, then devoured the rusted black iron bowl itself in three or four bites.

【Item Name: Source of Umami】

【Origin: 22nd Century Earth—Future Department Store】

【Production Date: 281. 3】

【Function: Looks like ordinary MSG, but far more potent—any inedible or unpleasant substance becomes delicious when sprinkled with it, even non-food items.】

Zhou Yun extended his hand to Nurgle without changing expression.

"Another bowl!!"

In the window of the Black Demon Hall, the Eldar Life Goddess Isha stared in stunned disbelief at the scene outside.

She had sensed the Eldar Death God visiting Nurgle's garden, curious to see this newborn brother.

What she witnessed was a scene she would never forget.

She saw Zhou Yun lift the broth brewed by Nurgle, swirl it to his lips, and drain it in one gulp—then swallow the bowl whole.

And it didn't end there: this newborn Eldar Death God reached out to Nurgle and shouted, "Another bowl!"

Nurgle, overjoyed, skipped to the cauldron and ladled him another full bowl.

Again, he drank it all, again, he devoured the bowl, again, he shouted, "Another bowl!"

Then came the third, fourth, fifth—by the seventh bowl, Nurgle was weeping with emotion.

The thick, plague-laden tears fell into the broth, yet Zhou Yun drank it all.

Isha began to fear. She had tasted Nurgle's broth—each new batch was first sampled by her.

She knew the agony of drinking Nurgle's broth; digesting even one bowl's plague was excruciating for her.

And this brother of hers—

"Brother, stop drinking, stop—I'm scared."

Isha trembled, whispering to herself; her gaze at Zhou Yun no longer resembled that for her youngest brother, but for something terrifying.

Isha wasn't the only one watching.

Two other eyes had been fixed on Zhou Yun all along.

In Slaanesh's bedchamber, Slaanesh, murmuring Zhou Yun's name while using the Old Hag's Blade—imbued with part of Inard's power, Zhou Yun's essence—to savor the ecstasy of inch-deep pleasure, widened her eyes.

The constantly vibrating, overheating Old Hag's Blade fell from her navel, bouncing wildly on the velvet-covered bed.

She stared in stunned disbelief at the scene unfolding far away in Nurgle's garden.

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Palace on Terra, the Imperial Guard stared in shock at the scene before them.

The Emperor's corpse, dried and inert upon the Golden Throne, suddenly stirred.

His hand pressed against the armrest, his body leaned forward, lifting from the backrest, his neck stretched, his head thrust forward, his eye sockets widening—as if straining to see something unimaginable in the distance.

I wish I could stand up and watch! I wish I could stand up and watch!

Almost all the Imperial Guards faintly sensed the Emperor's surge of emotion.

Besides these two, another had sensed what transpired in Nurgle's garden.

In Tzeentch's Crystal Labyrinth, the Master of Change had been observing the shifting fates within Nurgle's garden.

He and Nurgle were ancient enemies, locked in conflict since the distant past.

The domains of stagnation and change constantly clashed; their fates were inextricably bound.

So Tzeentch immediately sensed the shift in fate within Nurgle's garden.

This was exceedingly rare—few true surprises occurred in that garden.

Had he created a new Daemon Prince? Gained a new Chosen? Cultivated a virus capable of threatening divinity?

Tzeentch leaned closer to the crystal mirror reflecting fate, peering into Nurgle's garden.

He saw the figure, one bowl after another, devouring Nurgle's broth.

Tzeentch was stunned.

He could discern that the figure did not belong to Nurgle's domain.

A figure not of Nurgle's domain had nearly drained an entire cauldron of Nurgle's broth?

He hurriedly examined the figure's identity—and realized it was the one who had resurrected Roboute Guilliman and Sanguinius, the figure who had slipped slightly beyond his plans.

"No, no, no—everything is within plan."

Tzeentch shook his head violently, reforging the fate before him.

The thread representing Nurgle's fate entwined with the near future, colliding with Tzeentch's and with Ultramar's.

But Tzeentch swiftly tugged a black thread toward it.

"One thousand six hundred and ninety-fourth bowl."

Zhou Yun, gnawing on the rusted black iron bowl, said to Nurgle:

The bowl had been sprinkled with the item "Source of Umami," transformed into delicious food.

With this item, Zhou Yun, using Fat Tiger the Daemon's body, devoured one thousand six hundred and ninety bowls of Nurgle's broth in one go.

As he drank, he began to sense a new instinct emerging within Fat Tiger's body.

The instinct to brew broth.

He seemed to have learned, by drinking broth infused with Nurgle's power, how to brew his own unique version of Nurgle's broth.

This must be the power he gained from Nurgle's broth—but he did not yet know what effect his own brew would produce.

Zhou Yun licked his lips, dissatisfied, and said to Nurgle:

"Another bowl."

He had once gained power from the Domain of Gluttonous Dissolution, which had amplified his appetite, allowing him to consume quantities beyond reason.

That was why he hadn't felt full in a long time.

Drinking Nurgle's broth here, he felt only about one-fifth full.

Nurgle, hearing Zhou Yun's request for another bowl, wept with emotion, his face radiant with devotion, gazing at Zhou Yun as if at a soulbound friend.

He hurried to his cauldron, ladle in hand, eager to serve him another full bowl.

But Nurgle's expression of joy instantly twisted into deep shame; he returned to Zhou Yun, burdened with guilt:

"Drank it all… there's none left."

(End of Chapter)