Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch

"Dukele broke into my loving father's garden and beat you? God, how could he do this!" Kugas was heartbroken.

"I have already said that that guy is a complete thug and everyone should stay away from him!"

Rotigs coughed violently, and his ugly fat face was even more unrecognizable after being beaten by the original body. As he coughed, his loose teeth fell into the soup one by one.

The violent cough made him lean down, and when Kugas was not paying attention, he took a few sips of the Plague Father's precious elixir.

When these putrid things fell into his stomach, he smiled happily,

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my festering relative." Rotigs held out his hand, and a shimmering sphere spun in his hand. "Your eye is off."

Kugas grabbed his eyes and screwed them back into their sockets, "I'm not happy at all, get out of my crucible, now!"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Rotigos said lazily, "That won't work, because this is not your crucible, rotten brother, this pot belongs to the loving father."

"My loving father gave it to me to use!" Kugas shouted sharply.

"But He also allowed me to appear in it. If it weren't for the gift of my loving father, I might have been beaten to death by now." Rotigs said cheerfully, and he took the opportunity to take a big sip of the soup openly.

"The uncleanest and most contagious. What are you cooking?"

"It's none of your business, bastard of bastards!" Kugas became angry as he watched the other party drink the soup.

"This is a plague. What do you plan to use to kill Guilliman?" Rotigos took another sip in front of him and commented sharply,

"A little too strong," he said.

After seeing this, Kugas' rage boiled in his brain so much that steam came out of his ears and mouth.

"Go away, stop drinking, you're ruining it!"

"I can make it better." Rotigs leaned against the cauldron, needing some rest after the beating. Feeling the soup flowing in his wound, he sighed contentedly,

"I have to admit, it's quite satisfying for you to endure this stuff. Brother, have you ever considered changing your job to become a plague witch doctor?"

"You!" Kugas was furious. He held the spoon hard as if he were holding a spear instead of a medicine utensil.

"This is the perfect plague! Anyone who comes near it will die, and anyone who drinks it will die. This is the worst plague ever!!!"

"Really?" Rotigs took a swig of the stuff and then spat out a small geyser.

"This disease is called Divine Plague. It can kill anyone, including any of the false emperor's little toy people! I will successfully release it."

"Cute." Rotigos asked lazily as he soaked in it comfortably, "Can he kill Mortarion or Dukel?"

"Yes, yes, it can kill everyone, don't drink it anymore!" Kugas shouted angrily, "Nothing is immune. Mortarion will die, Duker will die, you You will die too! This is not a short-term exile, your essence will be corrupted and become a feast for soul bacteria!"

"Even Rainfather Rotigs will cease to exist." Kugas gloated,

"This is complete destruction, irreversible!"

"Complete death, brother, don't scare me with this. I just experienced it once. It was just a little bit close, but not now."

Rotigs let his loose arms hang on the sides of the cauldron, as if taking a refreshing bath.

"The current situation is like this, old friend Kugas." He grinned.

"It doesn't affect me, does it? I'm not dying, in fact, I'm in good spirits!"

"That's why I'm here." Rotigos looked at the other party and said in a low voice, "Your time is running out. Khorne and Tzeentch have formed a coalition, and they are taking action in the land of their loving father. . And the son of the cursed one, Dukel, my God, I have never seen such a rude and rude guy, and I never thought that one day I would be beaten in the garden of my loving father."

"They are all targeting the loving father?!" Kugas exclaimed, "But the treaty! Why would they?"

"Listen Kugas, I'm not joking, the situation is extremely serious. Although I failed and escaped shamefully, I also completed the task. I delayed Dukel's progress, even if it was only for a short moment. ”

"My loving father will not blame me for this. In fact, if it were not for His permission, I would not even be able to return to the crucible." Rotigs leaned his head on the iron ring of the crucible.

"But you are different, you are doing something stupid. The game of the gods will never end, and the treaty between them will not work, never!"

"I think there may be new treaties in the future, but now, we have a new war to face. You know it, I know it." Rotigos smiled hypocritically,

"The establishment of the natural disaster stars allowed the loving father to gain a realm in the physical universe. This is something that none of the gods have ever had. Therefore, it is obvious that they are jealous of the loving father's gains."

"Personally, I blame Mortarion, it is wrong for mortals to want to play the great game. Even one like him."

"What?" Kugas was a little confused after hearing what he said.

"If I were you, I would rearrange my priorities," Rotigs said. "A loving father does not take kindly to someone who goes to a celebration unprepared."

"You mean I should leave?" Kugas asked.

Rotigos did not answer, but grabbed a handful of liquid from the cauldron and poured it on the wound on his shoulder. The indescribable feeling made him look extremely relieved.

"But...my 'Godly Plague' is almost finished!" Kugas said dancing happily, "I, I, I made something special, something pleasant, it can kill the cursed ones. Son, both spiritually and physically, it is as good as the plague that made me, or even better!”

"Ah, no one cares." Rotigos sighed, "Who are they? Fake demigods? But this is the game of the true god! Your obsession is too deep, and you always want to make up for your past. It’s so wrong that you can’t see what’s most important, poor guy.”

Once upon a time, Ku'gas was just a humble Nurgle spirit beside his loving father. He accidentally fell into Nurgle's greatest soup while playing. He drank up Nurgle's soup and became the great Great Unclean One. .

Although his loving father did not punish him for this, Kugas always felt guilty and vowed to cook the perfect soup to repay his loving father for his loss.

After hearing what Rotigs said,

Kugas puffed up his sagging chest, "I'm working towards the goal of a loving father! Our whole plan here is to bring those disgustingly clean worlds into the garden. I"

Rotigs interrupted him again,

"Stop lying to yourself. You are just following Mortarion's plan. You want to rely on this plan to make your loving father forgive you for being born, and you want to repay the soup you once drank."

"None of this is wrong. But Mortarion is not that credible. As I said before, this mortal is trying to participate in the true god's game."

"Although we don't know what Mortarion wants to do, this motive alone makes him seem less credible. And you, Ku'gas, you are being manipulated by him."

"He's a demon too!" Kugas retorted.

"Pfft - okay, okay." Rotigs laughed directly, "But he's only half of it!"

"You have been completely manipulated, which has caused you to ignore the greater prospects. Ku'gas, the father of plague, the first among Nurgle's favored ones. I seem to have seen that your era is over, And my time is about to begin. Unlike your short-sightedness, I am busy with more important goals, other worlds, other planes, other places.”

"Then why are you here, dear Rotigos?" Kugas said with a hypocritical smile on his face.

"You'd better leave and not waste time with our little war."

In response, Rotigos shook his finger in warning, "All things come and go, Kugas. So does fame, and so does a father's love. I am ranked second in His favor, how long do you think you will be in the lead? You never know, I might get a promotion."

He winked at Kugas and said, "Goodbye, His most beloved servant at present."

After finishing speaking, Rotigs' huge body sank into the crucible again. Huge bubbles appeared and exploded in the cauldron.

Kugas reached into the pot, looked around for his opponent, and found that Father Rain was indeed gone.

The Plaguefather stirred the cauldron again, driven at first by trouble. But as the stirring progressed, he began to think, and as he thought, his stirring movements gradually slowed down.

"Well," Kor'gas mused, "it's crazy that the gods have broken the treaty and Nurgle's gardens are being invaded. I wonder if Mortarion really knows about this?"

"But Rotigs won't lie to me. He should really know, but why would he hide it from me?"

Kugas was thinking. He didn't want to talk to the original body, but they were allies. He couldn't just assume that the other party really knew.

Not long after he thought this way,

Ku'gas briefly conferred with the once mortal, now fatherly son.

It was discovered that the other party actually knew about Tzeentch's invasion!

And he also learned even worse news. Mortarion's powerful lieutenant Typhons had given up the war and retreated to the garden——

After learning that the situation was so serious, Kugas felt faintly afraid.

He also wanted to return to the garden.

But at this time, he heard Mortarion's voice again,

"Don't worry about those demonic armies. You and I both know the power of a loving father. They can't make any waves. And my brother, Dukel, he is even less worth mentioning. He is just a mortal. In Na, In the kingdom of dirt, he can’t even find the way to the core area.”

Mortarion's voice became unusually passionate. He slapped Ku'gas on the shoulder and described a bright future for the Plague Father.

"Kurgath, most favored by Nurgle, listen, our work is the greatest! Think of it, when you spread the most unclean plague, Guilliman will be completely corrupted, This is something no loving father has ever done!”

"Those incompetent people are still resisting the invaders, but we, we will open up a broader field for our loving father in the physical universe! By then, we will all prove ourselves, and our loving father will love us even more, Kugas——”

Kugas was moved.

.

On the outskirts of Nurgle's Garden, due north, the golden light of the Eagle of Destiny's battle flag illuminates everything here.

In the red firelight, the wreckage of plague arks fell from the unclean sky. For nearly a month, the roar of artillery fire gained a brief pause.

Countless huge crimson flame storms gathered into tornadoes that stretched across the sky and the earth, destroying everything here wantonly.

The carrion earth in the garden was withered and cracked, the plague swamp was ignited and erupted with a horrifying sound, the miasma and poisonous mist in the sky was sucked into it, making a sizzling sound, and the stinking smoke covered up all the blasphemy and uncleanness.

The fertile forest was uprooted, and in the sound of wailing, all the demons involved were reduced to ashes.

The fire light illuminated everything red, and the whole world was like melted amber. It was a scene of apocalyptic natural disaster, and everything here was being destroyed.

Faced with such a terrifying scene, no one present felt afraid. The crimson flame is an extension of the Lord of Destruction's power and the physical expression of human rage.

They listened to the screams of the devil in the firelight, as if they were listening to the most beautiful music in heaven.

Saint Efilar, who stretched tens of meters of flame wings and flew high in the sky holding the imperial flag, looked at one of the flame tornadoes, and the firelight illuminated her holy cheek,

"The glorious Lord of Destruction, benevolently purifies everything here."

She murmured to herself. In the posture of a living saint, her skin was as pure as white porcelain, and the light of the soul overflowing from her eyes was expressing the joy in her heart.

The mechanical priests comforted the excited machine spirits in the firelight,

"Calm down, Machine Soul, your body needs to rest."

Bang bang! ——

Without human control, the machine gun fired several bullets into the red sky.

"Calm down, calm down, in the name of Ohm Messiah!" The mechanical priest standing nearby quickly recited a eulogy and sprinkled sacred engine oil on the barrel.

"Calm down! The Lord of the Second Legion did not initiate a war. We are resting, Machine Soul."

Buzz! ——

The six-barreled cannon was spinning rapidly, and the machine spirit inside seemed a little frustrated.

"Hahaha, win, another victory! Praise the Warmaster, praise Sanguinius, praise the Empire!"

The Blood Angel's Dreadnought mecha jumped onto the hill in the garden. His voice did not fluctuate, but anyone could hear the excitement in it.

"It's so easy. Following the pace of the Warmaster's expedition, victory is what it deserves! I will once again open up territory for the empire, and I will always be enterprising! Live a life worthy of glory, and live up to the legacy of Sanguinius. Blood!"

He solemnly raised his mechanical arm and muttered words. No one knew what a glorious scene appeared in his eyes at this moment.

So much so that his seemingly funny behavior was infecting all the Imperial soldiers around him.

"Brother, I wonder if I will be lucky enough to see the beautiful picture you painted in this life."

Dante's body, far taller than a mortal man, stood upright in the battlefield. His body was still firm, but his spirit had long been attracted by the beautiful pictures painted by his ancestors.

He stared blankly at the veteran of Wan Zhan in the fearless mecha, venting his joy in his madness.

.