Chapter 329: Nurgle, Have You Heard of Numerology? (88 Praises to the Blood God!)

The Father has never felt so ashamed.

In the endless, meaningless eons of the Warp, the Father has countless times tried to invite beings beyond his domain to taste his broth.

But neither Tzeentch, Khorne, Slaanesh, the Emperor of Mankind, Asuryan, Kael, Vash'tor, nor the Great Devourer ever drank a single spoonful—each time they rudely rejected Nurgal.

Only Brother Gao Mao once tentatively sipped a bowl, and only Yisha drank a bowl from every pot.

And only Kugas ever drank an entire pot at once—even in the Garden of Nurgle.

When Zhou Yun drank his seventh bowl, Nurgle could no longer hold back his sobs.

My kindred! My brother! My dearest friend!

A being who loves his broth, holds a similar rank, and excels at breeding bacteria—such a companion is a dream to Nurgle.

Yet, yet this kindred soul, the Father failed to treat properly.

He prepared the broth too hastily; Zhou Yun clearly did not drink his fill.

Nurgle felt himself a failure, a rude host.

Especially when he saw the faint look of regret on Zhou Yun's face upon hearing the broth was gone.

The Father felt his soul deeply wounded; unbearable pain surged within Him.

The entire Garden of Nurgle seemed to sense His sorrow.

From the Great Mouth Trees to the Nurgle Spirits, from the Great Unclean Ones to the Plaguebearers, every being in the Garden bowed their heads, filled with grief and shame, whispering quiet sobs.

Zhou Yun's regret was not feigned.

Before coming to the Garden of Nurgle, Zhou Yun had tried the Essence of Umami.

It was a wondrous artifact: theoretically, sprinkling it on anything turned it into delicious food.

The physical, chemical, and Warp properties of the object remained unchanged—the metal stayed hard, the psychic energy remained searing—but it became delicious, perfectly meeting the definition of fine cuisine.

And Zhou Yun discovered: the more revolting the object, the more delicious it became after being dusted with the Essence of Umami.

And the Father's broth happened to be the most revolting thing in both the material universe and the Warp.

In other words, there may be no food more delicious than Nurgle's broth dusted with the Essence of Umami.

Zhou Yun could not even find words to describe the taste of Nurgle's broth.

Rich, fragrant oil; soft, pus-filled lumps; tender, spongy mushrooms; broth thick as molasses—just smelling it felt like the soul was ascended.

Upon tasting, it brought one surprise after another.

The novel texture—smooth yet perfectly stimulating—each taste bud awakened, savoring every cuisine in the galaxy.

Zhou Yun's face was full of regret; he had eaten only half his fill, far from satisfied.

"Ah," Zhou Yun let out a deep sigh.

Nurgle wept uncontrollably, wanting to speak many things to Zhou Yun but unable to utter a single word.

In the end, all his words became one: "Forgive me—I failed as a host."

Zhou Yun looked up, seeing the awkward, earnest green giant before him, and could not help but comfort him:

"It's my appetite that's too strong. Your broth is truly delicious."

At these words, the Father's tear-covered little eyes sparkled with joy.

Zhou Yun carefully chose his words and spoke sincerely to the Father:

"It was like making love with the Lord of Excess."

As Zhou Yun spoke, a ripple surged through the Warp.

"Huh??" Slaanesh sat up on his bed, eyes wide.

"It was like the honor of serving the Emperor of Mankind."

On the Golden Throne, the Emperor's withered hand clenched tightly.

"It was like the fulfillment of being filled with knowledge by the Changer of Ways."

In Tzeentch's crystal labyrinth, confused squawking echoed.

"It was like a glorious duel with the Blood God."

Khorne said nothing—he was trying to breed a new Greater Daemon.

The Father could not help but wipe away his tears, moved.

"Next time, next time I'll let you drink your fill," Nurgle said, his voice so sincere it stirred emotion, like an old friend inviting another for a late-night drink.

Zhou Yun nodded, recalling the broth-making technique he had grasped while tasting Nurgle's broth.

"Next time, I'll cook broth for you—try my craftsmanship," Zhou Yun said seriously. "For now, let's set this aside and talk about something serious."

"Yes, yes, yes."

Nurgle nodded eagerly, as if Zhou Yun's word was law.

He waved his hand, and birch branches erupted from the ground, forming chairs beneath Zhou Yun's buttocks.

The same chairs appeared beneath Nurgle's buttocks; the two sat facing each other before the Black Demon Hall.

"Let us speak of serious matters," the Father nodded to Zhou Yun.

"What special insights do you have on bacterial cultivation—"

"Can the plague ravaging Ultramar—"

Both spoke at once, their topics utterly mismatched.

Both paused slightly, but the Father reacted faster.

He quickly changed course: "Yes, yes, let's first talk about the children."

"I do not wish to stop Guilliman from seeing his father, even though my relationship with him is poor."

Nurgle said, frustrated and agitated: "How could I stop a child from seeing his wounded father? How could I do such a thing?"

"But Little Mortarion wants me to— he asked me to block Guilliman, to make him wander Ultramar."

Saying this, Nurgle sighed and shook his massive head.

Zhou Yun watched Nurgle, stroking his chin as he weighed his words.

Through the Tracking Mirror, he already knew it was Mortarion who wanted Guilliman to linger in Ultramar.

The Father himself had no intention of trapping Guilliman—he did not care about such things.

"Guilliman will leave Ultramar eventually. Your attempt to trap him will only make everyone dissatisfied."

Zhou Yun carefully spoke:

"If you're willing to withdraw your interference, I can—"

"My friend!"

Nurgle cut him off, shaking his head violently:

!

"Do you think I refuse to listen to your plea? Do you think I'm so stingy I won't help my kindred?"

"This isn't about interest—it's about Little Mortarion. He's always gloomy, never happy."

"If I ignore his request, he'll throw a tantrum, and bury it deep inside himself."

Hearing Nurgle's words, Zhou Yun gently pressed his reasoning cap.

His thoughts instantly sharpened.

He had been careless: for Nurgle, emotion—not interest—is the true driver of action.

His love for Mortarion is real; he truly wants his child to be happy—even if it means going against his own nature to block Guilliman.

To persuade Him, Zhou Yun could not appeal to interest.

After all, the Father truly sees everything in his domain as family—not like some blue Gugu who treats all as pawns.

"Then let's not talk about this."

Zhou Yun smiled and said:

"I think we should discuss bacterial cultivation instead."

At this, Nurgle's eyes lit up instantly, beaming at Zhou Yun with delight.

"You may already know I've cultivated several interesting bacteria."

Saying this, Zhou Yun pulled several petri dishes from his robe and handed one to Nurgle's side.

Nurgle couldn't help but reach out and touch the gently wriggling bacteria inside.

The bacteria immediately activated, sprouting a layer of black hair on the Father's head.

The hair was exactly two centimeters long—not a millimeter more, not a millimeter less—perfectly precise, utterly unnoticeable against Nurgle's massive skull.

Yet it was enough to fill the Father with joy—he burst into laughter.

"Look! I have hair! I have hair!"

The Father rubbed his new hair with his hands, laughing with pure delight.

He was not happy because he grew hair.

He was happy because this bacterium could change a Warp deity like himself.

Zhou Yun's bacteria could affect Him—

Then perhaps even His colleagues could not resist?

The Father had long been heartbroken because they rejected His gifts!

"Aren't you curious how I cultivated these bacteria?" Zhou Yun smiled.

His fingers brushed imperceptibly over the Hot Stage Notepad & Robot Director, instantly becoming the finest performer.

Nurgle leaned forward, his head close to Zhou Yun's, eyes brimming with curiosity.

Zhou Yun lowered his voice slightly, speaking with a touch of mystery:

"Nagou, have you heard of numerology?"

(End of chapter)