Chapter 333: Kughas

"If you don't finish it, I'll beat you!!!!"

That overpowering scent, rising straight to the heavens, surged outward, blasting directly into the faces of Nurgle, Zhou Yun, and the surrounding demons. In an instant, they seemed to hear that declaration.

The Nurglings looked at the pot of constantly boiling broth with terror. Thick black-purple liquid kept seeping out, swirling up various ingredients whose original forms were now unrecognizable, and splashing onto the meadows of Nurgle's Garden, which were covered in fungi and decaying matter.

The broth that fell to the ground was still boiling, emitting fine bubbles. It absorbed all the fungi and decaying matter it touched into itself, becoming part of the broth, causing the viscous liquid, which was almost semi-solid, to continue spreading outward.

"If you don't finish it, I'll beat you!!!"

That declaration became even clearer.

The thick broth shot out like an arrow, stabbing toward the nearest Nurgling that was watching.

Before the tiny Nurgling could react, the broth forcibly pried its mouth open and shoved itself down its throat.

The purple-black broth was forced into its mouth. The little Nurgling rolled its eyes back, constantly swallowing the thick, throat-clogging broth.

But this pot of broth was too intense. After devouring the surrounding meadows, it had become larger than the little Nurgling itself. The little Nurgling simply could not swallow it all.

"If you can't finish it, there will be punishment!!!"

A roar erupted from the broth. The little Nurgling's body instantly burst open. The purple-black broth expanded again, swallowing the Nurgling's remains and becoming part of this thick soup.

The little Nurgling went straight back to the forests of Nurgle's Garden to channel its resurrection.

The Plague Father watched this scene with great interest.

Zhou Yun had merely used a pile of miscellaneous items from the Material Realm, yet he had managed to brew such an overpowering pot of thick soup.

The existence of this pot of soup was so intense, so powerful, that the things in Nurgle's Garden could not corrupt it. Instead, they were occupied by it and became part of it. Could this be the power of Numerology?

The Nurglings fled in panic in all directions, but the speed at which that pot of thick soup collided was faster than their running speed.

"Drink! Why aren't you drinking!"

"No reward for finishing it! Punishment for not being able to drink it!"

"If you don't drink, I'll beat you!!!"

The soup roared and darted wildly around, occasionally diving into the mouths of the Nurgle demons and forcing them to drink it.

If they couldn't finish it, the soup would directly burst the Nurgle demons' bellies, turning their remains into part of itself, and then continue searching for the next victim.

This was its instinct as a pot of soup: constantly boiling itself and being drunk by others.

The soup Zhou Yun cooked was too intense. It was so intense that its instinct as a pot of soup was incredibly strong.

And the Warp is precisely a world of will. If a pot of soup wants strongly enough to be drunk, then in the Warp, it will even actively force others to drink it.

Zhou Yun scratched his head, feeling a bit awkward.

He had merely followed the instincts of the Great Unclean One Fat Tiger's body, acting on feeling, and imitated Nurgle to brew this pot of thick soup.

He hadn't expected the soup to go berserk and start slaughtering Nurgle demons all around.

"Giggle, giggle, giggle. It's fine, it's fine. Only a good pot of soup hopes to be drunk by others."

Nurgle seemed to notice the fleeting awkwardness on Zhou Yun's face. He held his belly and laughed heartily, saying:

"My children will soon resurrect in the forests. They often die a bit while playing around in the garden."

Nurgle's gaze toward the pot of soup Zhou Yun had brewed was full of satisfaction.

"Good soup. So lively!"

He licked his lips, then beckoned to Slimecoks, the Head Gardener, who stood nearby.

Slimecoks stood up from his mount, the snail Mous. With a body as sturdy as an old farmer, he bowed slightly to the Plague Father and Zhou Yun.

Then, with a flexibility rare among Nurgle demons, he leaped from the snail Mous. Holding a massive pair of pruning shears, he lunged at the constantly boiling thick soup.

"Drink! Drink quickly! Why aren't you drinking!!!"

The thick soup also noticed Slimecoks. It roared and collided with the Head Gardener.

Slimecoks demonstrated his skill as the manager of Nurgle's Garden. Just before the thick soup touched him, a massive Mouth-Tree grew from the ground. It opened its blood-filled maw, bit down on the thick soup, and then slammed its giant jaws shut, swallowing the soup into its trunk.

But the thick soup quickly seeped out from within the Mouth-Tree, swallowing the entire Mouth-Tree into the soup.

Within the constantly boiling broth, the Mouth-Tree also became soft and rotten, becoming part of the thick soup.

But Slimecoks was not in a hurry. He waved the sharp shears in his hand, precisely cutting into the semi-liquid, semi-solid thick soup.

In an instant, this rusted blade, capable of cutting the marrow-trees of Nurgle's Garden, sliced the thick soup into seven parts.

At the same time, seven massive Mouth-Trees shot up from the ground, swallowing the seven pieces of thick soup into their trunks.

Zhou Yun watched this scene with great interest, watching the thick soup he had brewed be divided into seven parts and trapped by Slimecoks.

This Head Gardener's strength was quite interesting. No wonder he is the first demon created by Nurgle in legend.

Zhou Yun had fought several battles with many demons and even Great Unclean Ones. According to Zhou Yun's feeling, this Head Gardener's strength was even greater than that of an ordinary Great Unclean One.

But exactly how much stronger, Zhou Yun could not judge, after all, they had not actually engaged in combat.

The Plague Father chuckled and ran over to the seven Mouth-Trees. He casually grabbed one and brought it close to his mouth.

The Mouth-Tree opened its huge mouth and spat the thick soup out from its trunk.

The thick soup, mixed with all sorts of strange and bizarre things, fell into the Plague Father's mouth and slid down into his bottomless throat.

Nurgle fell silent. He lowered his head, seemingly savoring the taste emanating from the thick soup.

Zhou Yun raised his head slightly to watch this scene.

He was not too worried that the thick soup would not suit the Plague Father's taste.

The power within the thick soup certainly did not come from the so-called Numerology, but from the power Zhou Yun had obtained when he used the Great Unclean One Fat Tiger's body to drink the Plague Father's thick soup.

Under the function of the Source of Umami, Nurgle's thick soup had become a truly delicious meal. Zhou Yun had completely digested it. The power within stimulated the Great Unclean One Fat Tiger's body to also possess the ability to cook soup. The soup cooked should taste similar to the soup cooked by the Plague Father.

"This truly is a good pot of soup!" After a brief moment, the Plague Father could not help but softly exclaim.

His gaze toward Zhou Yun also gained a bit more eagerness.

Whether it was his skill in cultivating bacteria or his skill in cooking soup, both made Nurgle feel admiration for Zhou Yun.

At the same time, Nurgle also developed immense interest in the Numerology Zhou Yun spoke of.

Without a doubt, when Zhou Yun was cooking that pot of soup, he indeed used only materials from the material universe, cooking in the manner of numerology.

Those groceries from the material universe could not possibly be effective; the only thing that could be so effective was numerology.

Could the theory Morbius worked out actually be effective?!

"Please teach me numerology!" Nurgle lowered his head and said to Zhou Yun in a humble tone.

Nurgle is the most humble Chaos God.

No mortal being fails to rely on external things; plants and trees depend on sunlight and fertile soil, animals depend on grazing on plants and trees, and bacteria and viruses depend on parasitizing other living beings.

Thus, the Father is also most skilled at relying on and borrowing external forces to cultivate himself.

"No." Zhou Yun shook his head and said.

His answer startled Nurgle, who suddenly raised his head, his eyes full of confusion and bewilderment.

Zhou Yun's firm refusal made Nurgle somewhat restless; the flesh piled up from the rotting matter on his body writhed and twitched.

"Why do you want to learn from me?"

Zhou Yun raised his head, looked at Nurgle, and asked with a smile:

"You clearly know who is the founder of numerology and who is the most authoritative expert in numerology, don't you?"

"Instead of seeking guidance from me, why are you unwilling to ask your family?"

"I think Morbius would certainly be happy to share this knowledge with you. He has always been a child eager for recognition; hearing that you approve of numerology will make him extremely happy."

Nurgle paused for a moment, looked at the smile hanging on Zhou Yun's lips, and suddenly realized the truth.

He suddenly reached out and slapped his head, which was piled with rotting flesh, as if annoyed that he hadn't thought of this just now.

That's right; clearly, his own family member, Little Morbius, is the creator of numerology. Why did he go to great lengths to seek it far away when it was right here?!

Nurgle also quickly understood the reason why Zhou Yun was so eager to promote numerology to him.

Little Morbius would certainly be happy to share the knowledge of numerology with him; he had previously not spared any effort to promote numerology to the other demons in Nurgle's Garden.

He advised Khorgas to stir the Great Plague seven times when cooking it, warned Slimecoks that the total number of trees in Nurgle's Garden must be a multiple of seven, and strongly demanded that the Rain Father's rainfall must last for three days and three nights or seven days and seven nights.

It's just that the demons in Nurgle's Garden have never quite understood Morbius's numerology.

Khorgas felt humiliated by Morbius; Slimecoks, angry that Morbius pulled his trees, beat Tzeentch; and the Rain Father was completely baffled.

If he were willing to listen, Morbius would certainly be happy. To tell him about numerology, Nurgle believed he would even be willing to temporarily forget about delaying Ji Li Man.

In this way, the conflict between Ji Li Man and Morbius would temporarily cease to exist, and the two parents, Zhou Yun and Nurgle, could also breathe a sigh of relief.

Everyone would be happy!

Nurgle's gaze toward Zhou Yun was full of admiration.

He was in such a good mood that when Zhou Yun proposed that if Tzeentch blocked Ji Li Man, Zhou Yun, and Sanguinius from going to Terra, he hoped Nurgle could help harass Tzeentch, the Father patted his chest and promised with his mouth full that he would definitely take action.

"No one has the right to stop a child from seeing his father, do they?"

The Father laughed heartily and asked rhetorically.

He didn't even ask Zhou Yun for any reward; he only begged Zhou Yun to leave some of the bacteria he had cultivated earlier for himself.

"Come play again next time!" Nurgle waved to Zhou Yun as he entered the Anywhere Door and said.

Even after Zhou Yun and the Anywhere Door disappeared from Nurgle's Garden, Nurgle's mood remained immersed in happiness.

"Father... I am late." Just then, a voice that did not sound very happy rang out.

Khorgas moved his massive body and walked out of the garden with deep apologies.

"Khorgas, my child, didn't I tell you that a distinguished guest was visiting and ask you to hurry over?"

Nurgle looked at Khorgas with some displeasure, his brows tightly furrowed.

After learning of Zhou Yun's visit, the Father had hurriedly started cooking the thick soup and simultaneously notified his chief Great Daemon, Khorgas, to hurry over to help him entertain Zhou Yun.

But Khorgas was actually late, only managing to arrive after Zhou Yun had already left.

"... Father, I have brewed a brand new Great Plague, which can..." Khorgas hurriedly began to speak.

"Enough, enough." Nurgle helplessly shook his head: "I have said many times that I don't mind you drinking my pot of soup; I am not stingy."

"Never mind. Since you are here, I remember you often communicate with Little Morbius... What do you know about his numerology?"

Khorgas tilted his head, looking at the Father in confusion: "Huh?"

(End of this chapter)