Chapter 536

Rotting flesh grew wildly on the planet's surface, giant fungi and trees with foul-smelling giant maws stretched their bodies among the flesh, and thousands of living beings were infected by tiny bacteria. Their bodies, constantly tortured by disease but never dying, covered the earth.

Pus and tissue fluid constantly flowed out of their bodies, gathering together to form rivers, pouring into the sea and turning into a foul-smelling ocean. And beneath this sea of warm pus were countless more mortal corpses.

Although they had become corpses, they did not truly die, but instead constantly nourished the flies residing in their flesh with their own bodies. These flies hatched from the sea, rose with the foul-smelling seawater, turned into dark black clouds in the air, sprinkled rotting rain onto the ground, and formed a complete biosphere.

This feudal world was dragged into the boundary between the Warp and reality when the Great Rift opened. The star soon could not withstand the erosion of the Warp and fell into the tides of the Warp, and this world despaired in endless fear, famine, and cold.

The desperate mortals discovered an ancient faith underground. It was a faith that had been destroyed by the Imperium ten thousand years ago, but had been buried in the earth and had never dissipated.

Since the Emperor had already abandoned them, why couldn't they pick up this ancient faith again?

Why couldn't they pray to the "Great God of Compassion, Abundance, and Warmth, Nurgle"?

Nurgle is the sun. He warms the earth with his own flesh, he nourishes all things with his own body fluids, all things grow because of him, and all things are blessed because of him.

Thus, all the people prayed to Nurgle, but it seemed that because of the unique accent popular on this planet, the pronunciation of the word Nurgle in their chanting gradually distorted and became Nurgle.

Thus, heavy rain fell for seven days and seven nights, and all living beings felt warmth in their fever. That was the body temperature of the Plague Father shining on them, and then disease surrounded the world. The Father's messengers descended among the torrents of the Warp, waving scythes to harvest them as wheat seeds, letting them sink forever in the sea of rot, enjoying eternal warmth and compassion.

On the Terminus Est, Typhus looked with satisfaction at this planet that had been corrupted into a Daemon World.

Over ten thousand years, it was the Death Guard who conquered this planet, and it was he, Typhus, who secretly buried the faith of the "Great God of Compassion, Abundance, and Warmth, Nurgle" under the ground.

The Father's gift is like this.

It's like planting a seed, watering it a little, and then waiting patiently, waiting for the seed to sprout one day, and then in the blink of an eye, it grows into a towering tree, falling irretrievably into the Father's embrace.

And he, Typhus, is the master of this way, one of the best cultivators under the Father.

Compared to Mortarion, that cultist who only knows how to spout numbers and evil ways, he, Typhus, is the true implementer of Nurgle's path.

Thinking of this, Typhus's gaze dimmed for a moment.

He had originally counted on Luther and Erebus to pull off something, at least banish that Saint Doraemon to the past, but he didn't expect them to achieve nothing, and even lose Typhus's Plague Heart.

Now the Plague Heart's whereabouts are unknown, such a large living asteroid, and there is not a single clue...

Suddenly, the auspex on the Terminus Est let out a buzz.

The torrents of the Warp did not stir up any waves, but on the side of the Terminus Est, a massive reaction appeared.

A ship like a trident, even larger than the Terminus Est or even the Gloriana-class battleship, suddenly appeared in the Warp, hideously displaying its existence.

That was an Abyss-class battleship, obviously the Blessed Lady that belonged to Erebus not long ago, but the identification code displayed on the auspex announced the new name of this starship: The Cupboard.