Chapter 334: Nurgle Calculates with Fingers

"Aha hahaha!!!" A clear, birdlike laugh echoed through the command chamber atop Mount Macragge's highest peak, the Hera Fortress.

The command chamber, once belonging to the Lord of the Space Wolves, had been cleared out—only Zhou Yun, Guilliman, and Sanguinius remained inside.

Sanguinius wore armor of crimson and gold, his pristine white wings hanging behind him, silver chains swaying uncontrollably with each clear laugh.

"You mean you tricked the Plague God into believing in numerology?"

"So now my dear brother Mortarion is teaching the Plague God numerology?"

Sanguinius's smile could not be contained; his bright, starlike eyes brimmed with joy as he said:

"Lorgar once claimed to be the galaxy's greatest jokester—I now declare you are."

"Don't laugh—I did something good."

Zhou Yun's grin also refused to fade; he went along with it, never expecting he'd actually succeed in convincing the Father of Plagues of numerology's power:

"Look, the Father is happy, Mortarion is happy, you and I are happy—everyone's happy. This is a great benefit to Macragge and the Garden of Nurgle."

"All I gave up were seven strains of bacteria."

Originally there were only six, but Zhou Yun thought, with the Plague God's blessing, the unguided bacterium generator might produce something useful.

It only produced one: "a bacterium that makes birds runny-nosed"—useless—and he left samples of all seven for the Father.

"Yes, yes, such a wonderful thing."

The Archangel kept nodding at Zhou Yun; Guilliman had never seen Sanguinius so openly shed his divine mask, so freely unleashing his joy.

"Just thinking of Mortarion now trying to convince the Plague God he's a materialist—I can't stop laughing."

"If he succeeds, we might gain a Space God who believes in materialism!"

After saying this, Zhou Yun and he burst into laughter again.

A Space God who believes in materialism—a staunch materialist warrior, Nurgle—who wouldn't laugh out loud?

"So, who can tell me what numerology is?" Guilliman, who had sat silently watching Zhou Yun and Sanguinius laugh, asked with a stern face.

He vaguely understood Zhou Yun had somehow convinced the Plague God, trapping Mortarion and preventing his incursions into Ultramar.

But making a pact with the Plague God, that profane entity of the Warp, still unsettled and repulsed Guilliman deep inside.

Matters involving Warp deities always made Guilliman feel profoundly uncomfortable.

"Mortarion believes everything in this universe—including the Empyrean and its gods—can be explained by mathematics."

Sanguinius said, his voice laced with faint amusement:

"You should remember—he always despised Warp power, mocked sorcery and mysticism. But now, corrupted by the Plague God, the very Warp energy he scorned flows in his veins. The powers he wields are pure sorcery, their principles rooted in idealism and mysticism."

"He cannot accept it, so he uses numerology to explain it all, convincing himself that everything he uses is grounded in rigorous science."

Zhou Yun nodded in agreement.

Mortarion was always a stubborn man—he loathed psychic power and Warp energy, which led to the ban on Librarians and psykers at the Council of Nikaea.

Many Thousand Sons even blamed Mortarion as one of the chief culprits behind the Burning of Prospero: Horus the manipulator, Lorgar the executor, and Mortarion the fiery, prejudiced, self-righteous critic who shouted loudest against psykers.

Yet he himself was a powerful psyker; after being corrupted by Nurgle, the one who most vehemently opposed psychic power became a full-blown Warp entity. Numerology was his tool to deceive himself.

No wonder when Ahriman of the Thousand Sons met Mortarion again during the Siege of Terra, he called him: "A stupid drunkard who preaches abstinence while drunk—hypocritical and shameful!"

In Zhou Yun's view, Mortarion's numerology ranked fourth in the galaxy's greatest lies—after "I'm not a god!", "This was all part of the plan!", and "I am Rogal Dorn!"

Guilliman's brow tightened further.

"I recall something," Guilliman nodded slightly. "I think he was already studying this during the Great Crusade: 'His theory is less reliable than psyker power—at least Librarians and the Warp are dependable.'"

"His numerology feels like the Emperor's Tarot now popular on the streets—just street fortune-telling."

"No, no, no," Zhou Yun said seriously, hearing Robert Guilliman's words. "Street fortune-telling? How dare you insult such a profound discipline!"

"The Emperor's Tarot is a rigorous, reliable discipline—it holds great wisdom."

Zhou Yun had witnessed the Emperor's Tarot's efficacy several times in Asford.

This divination, said to be linked to the Emperor's will, was genuinely effective—far more reliable than crude numerology.

"And what about numerology?" Guilliman asked, slightly uneasy. "Mortarion is the Emperor's creation—he has an extraordinary mind. Could his system truly have no effect at all?"

"Theoretically, none," Sanguinius shook his head. "It works for him—but that's because he instinctively taps into the Empyrean's principles."

"The Warp is fundamentally an idealist realm. If an entity's will is strong enough—like Mortarion's—believing fervently in numerology makes numerology genuinely effective in his hands."

Hearing this, Guilliman's brow tightened further.

He asked with suspicion: "What if a powerful entity like the Plague God believed in it?"

Instantly, the command chamber fell silent. Zhou Yun and Sanguinius exchanged a glance, then looked at Guilliman.

"If the Plague God—a being of such power—believed in numerology, would it work?" Guilliman asked them. "It shouldn't, right?"

Zhou Yun's eye twitched as he said:

"It's fine—even if numerology becomes real, it'll only harm the Warp."

"If numerology actually works, I'll eat the 'Penicillium' demon myself!"

Kugath whispered to the gardener beside him, Slikox.

Before the Black Library, the Father chuckled, clutching his belly as he watched Mortarion demonstrate numerology to cultivate bacteria.

Mortarion darted among the materials the Father provided, shaking a fourteen-sided tortoise shell in his hand like a shaman.

"All things obey numerical law; within numbers lies true meaning."

"Three governs the cycle of plague-earth; three stands at the center, observing life."

"Great plagues are determined thus; their quantity is fixed by numbers."

"Seven brings decay, nine seeks change; six is lust, eight is slaughter."

"These are the sacred numbers of the High Heavens; fate is judged by their count."

!

"Wipe away the sorcery's words; one number determines one fate."

"Open!!"

Three dice tumbled from Mortarion's tortoise shell, spinning slowly on the ground before coming to rest.

Mortarion studied the numbers on the dice and quickly made his judgment.

He selected three substances from the materials the Father provided.

The Father's materials included his own cultivated plagues and the bacterial strains Zhou Yun had previously gifted him.

Coincidentally, the three strains Mortarion chose were all those Zhou Yun had cultivated and given to Nurgle.

The Father, clutching his belly, watched curiously as Mortarion selected the three strains.

"Bacterium that causes diarrhea for a full day."

"Bacterium that consumes knowledge from books."

"Plague that makes birds runny-nosed."

Nurgle watched with interest as Mortarion placed the three strains into a crucible and stirred.

"Numbers govern not just matter—they connect to the Empyrean."

"Different domains share the same properties; they can be mutually applied."

"Reality and the Warp are one family; matter and psychic energy are inseparable."

"Scientific principles are the same—then reborn in the Empyrean."

"If you master numerology, you need no sorcery to reach it."

Seven stirs, seven boils.

Three strains, three infusions.

Mortarion took a deep breath, sensing the bacteria within the crucible change.

"Success!!!"

Mortarion flung open the crucible; seven seconds and seven seconds after the steam rose, he thrust in his ladle.

The ladle stirred three vortices within the crucible; he scooped out seven bowls of thick broth.

Each bowl floated with viscous colonies—but Mortarion discarded the first six.

Not the first six—numerology had revealed it: only seven.

Only seven was the true great plague.

Mortarion lifted the bowl and placed it before the Father, his face brimming with confidence.

The Father leaned forward eagerly, curious to examine the new bacterial colony Mortarion had cultivated from the three strains.

As the Plague God, Nurgle understood the strain's effects in just seven seconds.

"This is… the bacterium that causes the Lord of Change to diarrhea and excrete knowledge!"

A faint, barely perceptible smile flickered across Mortarion's gaunt, cold face.

Nurgle clapped involuntarily at this brilliant creation.

Chief Gardener Slikox's single eye widened slightly.

Kugath stared, tongue hanging out.

"It actually works?"

"How can numerology actually work?"

"How can it possibly work?!"

"Is this universe truly materialistic?"

(End of Chapter)