Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 380 Lucius is Forgotten Again
Above the stars and the distant time and space.

Behind the shadows of the stars and the overlapping curtains.

In the invisible changing chaos, the armies commanded by the four most powerful ones in the High Heavens were eyeing each other covetously on each other's borders. Their eternal conquest of the realms that were most obviously and directly connected to power was about to break out again.

Ah, this may not be true. One of them did not really participate in the eternal struggle between the other three, although the annoying blue soft-bodied creature who liked to change also wanted to drag him in, because such an extremely chaotic battlefield full of changing destinies was his favorite.

But Nurgle is usually gentle and easy to talk to once his demands are met.

The extremely tiny bit of power that this fat, always good-tempered father obtained from a certain existence was so pure that it was enough for him to create a pale yellow-green "wall" composed of highly toxic swamp gas, mushroom spores, tiny mosquitoes and flies, and cute air-borne bacteria and viruses on the border of his garden, blocking the armies of the other three existences, while allowing his little cuties to calmly and patiently "plant" the periphery of his garden with the fungal carpet grass and the bushes transformed from living things, millimeter by millimeter, slowly and meticulously - as long as this is given time, one day he will become the ultimate winner. Before that, he will be very patient and not interfere too much - even the "God of Chaos" will be secretly happy about such a good thing as being given a free gift and winning for a long time, which is in line with his own doctrines.

Of course, this was only the kind grandfather's own idea. As for what those beloved children under him thought, Nurgle was not completely ignorant. After all, their connection was now like a vibrant parasitic vine entwined on each other's spirits. But Nurgle decided to watch their little quarrels lovingly. After all, young children were always relatively more lively.

But for now, he still needs to focus his energy and attention on the important work at hand.

Nurgle stirred his cauldron, adding more plague ingredients and symptoms to it from time to time. Ah, those who received the blessing must not be allowed to die too early, nor should they show symptoms too quickly, which would cause those foolish children who always fantasized that they could resist the love of their father to take unnecessary measures.

He carefully put a fat finger into the pot of poisonous plague soup that was not on fire but was bubbling like boiling water, dipped it, raised it, and squinted his eyes.

Oh. A bit too much. The intensity of hemolysis and cell lysis in this plague seems to be a bit too much.

The liquid on his chubby fingers began to dissolve the Father God's body and fingernails, causing the brown cracked thing along with the rusty green, yellow and white pus to fall into the bubbling soup pot with a "plop".

"Aiya." He laughed, and the big demons in the garden raised their heads and looked admiringly in the direction of the father's soup pot.

"This gift can't be so straightforward. It needs to be more delicate and beautiful."

Mumbling, he began to search through the dense pustules and blisters on his body and his torn and swollen flesh belly. His abdomen was torn open and he stuffed the stinking rotten intestines back in without a care, trying to find more material.

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The other three armies, who were blocked outside the Quiet Garden and had to face each other, obviously did not have such leisure time.

Amid the roar of blood and the fierce sound of bloodthirsty hooves hitting the ground, 88,888 legions of bloodletters, steel bull cavalrymen and bloodthirsty demons appeared, waving axes and sharp blades like a bloody frenzy. Opposite them was the gorgeous army composed of Slaanesh demons, maids, military vanguards and secret keepers, which was so fragrant that the olfactory nerves of any mortal who did not take adequate protective measures would be instantly destroyed. The demons of various colors smiled at them with their male and female sexual characteristics shaking all over their bodies. They waved all their weapons at the army of the Blood King provocatively, as a mockery of the Dark Prince to the God of Blood, the slender carcasses and the powerful huge pincers were combined together.

Between the two and in the sky above were followers and armies of the Lord of Change, dancing or riding on devilish flying discs and screaming flying sharks. The clerks were noisily writing long scrolls of fate for every inanimate being and living being, or both, present with quills dipped in magic ink, much to the amusement of the owner of the Crystal Palace.

The gods behind the curtain were all so confident when the fight began.

A fighter who firmly believes that such magnificence will eventually belong to him, adding a bloody and efficient landscape to the skulls beside his throne, and can enjoy the joy of cutting off heads in hatred and bathing in blood as he advances forever.

The other one was even more convinced that a man who pursued perfection in himself and martial arts and was once a champion swordsman of the Third Legion would definitely be more willing to reunite with his genetic father and realize higher, more and more ultimate bliss together with his father in the palace of debauchery and pleasure with the great demons. For this reason, it even condescended to send a few glances to the unimaginative mortal woman.

In view of this, some Tzeentchs also claimed that they would be happy to kindly accept the champion's words if the two of them could not determine the winner. With such confidence and anger, Khorne and Slaanesh naturally did not want to give up their claim to Lucius' ownership - yes, his soul was now protected by others, they could not eat it or brand it with their own marks, but the rules of the High Heaven originated from the depths of the sea of ​​spirit and soul, and the mystery of the first resurrection meant that even if they could not obtain all of him, they would definitely be able to leave a deep impression of themselves on him.

Soon, the tentative fight that began after the formation quickly escalated into a large-scale legion battle, followed by a decisive battle between the respective Daemon Princes and Champions. Famous Great Daemons began to be summoned and descended on the battlefield one after another. The Tzeentchian demon army sandwiched between the two sides flew ecstatically over the heads of the Khorne and Slaanesh armies that were fighting in a ball, stirring up their greater desire to fight and the fluctuations of their fate from time to time.

Just as the battle began to escalate to a fever pitch, the Eye of Terror and the real universe reflected the great war between the gods everywhere. Chaos warbands or cultists who believed in different masters were all inspired by the supreme call from the sky and began to attack each other's demon planets or territories. At the same time, the master of a certain black army and the tyrant of the vortex began to be vigilant and seek the help of fortune-tellers and prophecies.

On the Relentless Flame that has been forgotten by everyone (?).

Lucius's beautiful body lay there, lovingly cleaned and redecorated.

Flowers and gold threads worth more than a thousand gold coins were woven into a wreath and worn on his smooth forehead, and his damaged body was washed until it turned white. The large amount of blood lost from his body made him look transparently white. The expensive long wig woven from silver and spider silk made him look a bit like the statue of his genetic father - if there was someone present who had seen the Third Primarch.

Unfortunately, there was none here, so the broken place in his chest was filled with delicious food and salad, strings of fragrant fruits were wrapped around his jeweled armbands, and his palms were holding precious apples and peaches - the coldness of death and the refrigerator under his body kept these rare delicacies well preserved.

"Let's raise our glasses." The hostess of this extravagant banquet sat at the head of the table, looking at the fearful and greedy eyes of the people below with satisfaction.

"Let's start enjoying the main course of the banquet, everyone."

(End of this chapter)