Warhammer Divine Throne

In Mogiana’s eyes, a dazzling light burst forth. She instinctively placed a hand on her lower abdomen, where Laine’s seal was set: ”You mean...”

”I’m a warrior, not a conspirator, nor a wizard, Your Highness. This is all I can think of.” Laine turned his head, finding Mogiana’s delicate face just inches away: ”Is there anything else you can tell me?”

”One more thing...” Mogiana leaned on Laine, whispering something in his ear.

”Understood.” Laine looked at Mogiana with a faint smile. Seeing his agreement, the Lake God Witch turned to instruct the two Lake God Prophets: ”You all step out first. I have important matters to discuss with Laine. Do not come in unless there is something extremely urgent.”

”Yes.” The Lake God Prophets retreated.

......

The night was gradually descending, and in the bustling Kulona, there was no curfew order. Recently, with the knight’s tournament approaching, a large crowd had flocked into Kulona.

The nobles on the streets were bustling, discussing the upcoming knight’s tournament.

”Wow, the knight’s tournament is about to begin. I haven’t been able to concentrate on work lately,” said a slightly plump middle-aged man.

”Yeah, yeah! I wonder who has the best chance of winning this year’s knight’s tournament?” Another man, obviously his companion, replied eagerly continuing the discussion.

”This time? Well, there aren’t many outstanding knight talents this year, only three worth mentioning. I think the victory will come from among these three.”

”Which three?”

”They are Mr. Geoffrey from Angleton, Count Renuo from Jisoleox, and Marchioness Surya from Winford. Among them, I have the highest hopes for Marchioness Surya. She is the legitimate daughter of His Grace, Duke Francois, the Holy Grail Knight, and has practiced lance and swordsmanship since childhood. It’s said her skills rival that of her brother Julius!”

”Julius, isn’t he the champion from the last tournament?”

”Yes, which is why I believe Marchioness Surya is destined to win this year’s knight’s tournament!”

The enthusiastic discussions drew everyone’s attention, and soon the entire street was engaged in the conversation.

However, some had no mind to join these activities. The bishop of the Merciful Goddess General Church hurriedly led a group through the streets, a few heavy carriages hauling precious herbs.

They needed to immediately test whether the miracle cure for malaria was still effective after hundreds of years.

The Merciful Goddess Headquarters was brightly lit, as all the guards and priests gathered to study the medicine. Innumerable precious herbs were sent to the church headquarters. The crowd sang praises to the Merciful Goddess Shalya while working against time.

This could be the greatest discovery in centuries. If this miracle cure proves effective, the horrific infectious disease that has plagued humanity for millennia might be eradicated! Countless lives will be saved, altering the fate of the entire human world!

In the midst of tense experimentation, the precious medicine was mixed into a green solution, and then the archbishop of the Merciful Goddess, a kind middle-aged woman, directed everyone to continue their work with barely contained joy and fervor: ”Hurry! Hurry!”

Hundreds of years ago, a priest of the Merciful Goddess discovered a miracle cure for malaria at an imperial sanatorium, but before he could document the formula, the entire sanatorium mysteriously went up in flames, burned to the ground, even the Merciful Goddess couldn’t retrieve the formula, leaving only a few records.

And now, the former miracle cure is finally seeing the light of day!

After the potion was completed, the archbishop immediately sent it to the critical care sanatorium in the Kulona suburb run by the Merciful Goddess Church. Under the priests’ constant divine art purification, the miracle cure was administered to a malaria patient, and then everyone waited anxiously for the results.

An hour, two hours...

As the patient sweated profusely, their temperature dropped, their spirits recovered, and their appetite returned to normal, the sanatorium was filled with earth-shaking cheers. The priests of the church knelt down, loudly praising the name of the Lady of Mercy, thanking her for granting mortals the miracle cure, and for her great contribution to the world.

This was a moment of epochal significance!

......

Subspace, Chaos Realm, Eternal Realm, Nurgle’s garden, a paradise of death and disease.

Fuzzy flies buzzed, forming thick black swarms below the sky. Under the insect-chewed leafy canopy, rotting tree branches entangled with vines burgeoning over decaying ground, fungal plants sprouting sporadically from the mulch-covered forest floor, incessantly releasing stifling spores, semi-demon plants swaying their trunk at their rhythm, not from any stimulus as if the air had solidified. Brightly colored flowers of red, blue, yellow, and purple pierced through the gloom, a joyful haven laid within the melancholy landscape. Digging and running insects flaunted their vibrant shells and shimmering wings. The insects skipped along the banks of a sluggish, muddied river, while the reeds whispered tales of pus-laden pestilences spread by the great Nurgle in the world of mortals, or lamented for those fated to die by their creator’s hand.

The Chaos God of rot and disease, one of the Four Chaotic Evil Gods, Nurgle was busy. In his abode, dilapidated yet ancient, its foundations forever firm. The residence covered in writhing poisonous vines and thick moss, cracked windows and fractured stones contending for space against rusty bronze work, rust-covered iron frames, and lichen-streaked cornices, competing with their decrepit charms to surpass one another.

Beneath these dilapidated walls, Nurgle toiled. His enormous body, swollen with rot, emitted a stench beyond endurance. His skin was a green necrotic hide, covered with oozing ulcers, bloated sores, and numerous parasites. Nurgle’s bubbling organs were filled with corrupt excretions, oozing through the cracks on his skin, hanging on him like repulsive fruit. From these organs, swarms of miniature Nurgles erupted, foraging and sucking the revolting rich nectar from grandfather Nurgle’s rotting intestines.

The Evil God was stirring a huge cauldron larger than itself with a big spoon. With each stir of the maggot-covered long spoon, a new disease was concocted, destined to destroy the world of mortals.

His rotten, giant hand scooped up a portion of the terrifying concoction, placing it into his cavernous mouth, tasting his labor’s fruits, Nurgle mused aloud: ”Not enough, not yet enough; damn Isa will wear down my great work to nothingness, need more, more potent.”

A throng of Nurgle Demons surrounded Nurgle, loudly debating how potent this new creation would be, how many souls they could reap before the gods of order reacted.

”Hmm?” Nurgle suddenly raised his head, sensing something: ”Humans... humans have discovered a new medicine. They intend to resolve one of my proudest creations.”

”Not allowed!” Nurgle abruptly lifted his massive cauldron.

Countless Nurgle Demons felt their master’s command, roaring as they plunged into Nurgle’s cauldron. Hundreds upon thousands of demons melted into the boiling mixture, yet more Nurgle Demons surged from all directions, continuously diving into the cauldron.

”Go!” The cauldron tipped over, the terrifying concoction poured towards the Prime Material Plane, transforming into a yellow-green deluge.

”Backward, civilization-rejecting mortals, enjoy my gift!”

”Destruction!”

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