"Nuln!" Tamurkhan's voice echoed across the ruins of Feldorf, filled with a hatred so extreme and twisted that it bordered on insanity. He repeatedly shouted the city's name as if only by burning it to ashes could his wrath be sated.
The once-great city had now been transformed into a sprawling camp for the Chaos army. The air was thick with foul odors and the stench of decay as Chaos corruption increasingly tainted the land. Though the army still numbered close to 30,000, they were beginning to suffer from a lack of clothing and food. The scorched-earth tactics employed by the people of Wissenland had left the Chaos forces with inadequate supplies. While the Chaos Warriors, Nurgle's chosen, and the Rot Knights needed no sustenance, the Kurgan marauders and Plague Ogres were voracious eaters. Adding to the strain were the Chaos Dwarfs and the towering Chaos Giants, with the Chaos Dwarfs claiming the lion's share of the dwindling food supply as the primary siege force.
With their food stores dwindling, Tamurkhan was forced to appoint overseers to manage the rations, instituting a strict rationing system. This quickly bred discontent among the Kurgan warriors, some of whom began to express their dissatisfaction through violence and suspicion. They felt that their original purpose had been lost, and tensions flared among the chieftains, leading to mutual accusations and taunts. These disputes soon escalated into assassinations, for in the creed of Chaos, all violence and bloodshed are equal in the eyes of the dark gods, who reward all acts of slaughter, whether against friend or foe.
Rumors spread like wildfire through the Chaos camp. Many Kurgan warriors whispered that Tamurkhan was merely the butt of a cruel joke played by Father Nurgle—a joke so vile that it had dulled the once-formidable intellect of Tamurkhan, leaving him slow and lethargic. At first, Tamurkhan did nothing to quell these rumors, which only convinced the Kurgan that he had become a fool.
Perhaps Nurgle indeed did not favor clever followers, but Tamurkhan was not one of them. When the rumors reached a fever pitch, the Maggot King acted swiftly, executing hundreds of Kurgan warriors to silence the dissent. Yet, the internal divisions only grew deeper.
The Chaos sorcerer Unbeliever Sai of the Durgan tribe repeatedly advised Tamurkhan to abandon the assault on Nuln and instead turn their attention to Averland. The Averland province was a rich and fertile plain, abundant in grain, livestock, and wealth, with a large population. The province's main army was still tied up at Blackfire Pass, engaged with the 3,000 decoys Tamurkhan had left behind, making this the perfect opportunity.
Failing that, bypassing Nuln and attacking Reikland was also a sound strategy.
But Tamurkhan refused. As the favored son of Father Nurgle, he had vowed to offer Ludwig's city to the dark gods, and there was no turning back.
Unbeliever Sai was infuriated by this stubbornness. The Durgan tribe's grand sorcerer secretly conducted a divination to glimpse Tamurkhan's future, using an elf's spinal fluid to draw a filthy magic circle.
The result was blinding silver light, nearly robbing Sai of his sight. The Unbeliever cowered under a table, barely daring to breathe until the light faded and he could crawl out, shaken. He hurried to report his findings to the Grey Prophet Drazhoath of the Chaos Dwarfs.
"A great disaster or a great calamity?" Drazhoath sneered at Sai's divination, understanding the cause within seconds. The leader of the Chaos Dwarfs let out a cold laugh and turned away.
A great disaster or calamity—that was Tamurkhan's concern, not his.
Unbeliever Sai, baffled by the Chaos Dwarf's logic, fumed after Drazhoath left. The extreme selfishness of the Chaos Dwarfs caught him off guard. After much deliberation, Sai decided to inform Tamurkhan of his vision.
However, Tamurkhan was in the middle of a profane ritual. Nurgle's Plague Priests and chosen warriors told Sai that the Nurgle champion was unavailable.
Cursing Tamurkhan's foolishness, the Unbeliever departed, grumbling that if Tamurkhan didn't want to know, then he would never know!
No one noticed the shadowy figure that slipped past the guards and into the sacrificial chamber where Tamurkhan conducted his ritual, hidden by the cover of dark magic.
The site, once a temple of the Church of Justice, was now a ruin. Under Tamurkhan's orders, Plague Ogres had excavated a massive pit within the ruins, filling it with thousands of rotting corpses to create a giant reservoir of putrid fluid. Tamurkhan soaked his body in this pit, writhing and bathing in the darkness.
The black-clad figure crept along the rafters of the desecrated temple, struggling to breathe through the noxious fumes. He reached the edge of the pit and dispelled his concealment spell, his body erupting in lightning and fire. His entire form ignited as he hurled himself into the pit, aiming directly at Tamurkhan!
"!!!" Tamurkhan was deep in communion with Father Nurgle when the pit around him suddenly erupted into a boiling inferno. The figure, a masked human imbued with vast magical power, hurtled across the surface of the vile pool, his dagger aimed at Tamurkhan's throat.
The dagger was infused with visible sorcerous flames. Tamurkhan's eyes widened, but the Nurgle champion, interrupted in the middle of his ritual, couldn't move. He commanded a plague toad to rise from the murky depths and intercept the assassin.
The assassin's face, hidden beneath his mask, remained expressionless as he swiftly slashed his dagger, slicing the toad into charred pieces. But using such power came at a cost—the assassin's hair and eyes began to change, showing signs of rapid aging.
"Roar! Not allowed!" A Plague Troll attempted to stop the assassin from the side, swinging a massive arm at him. The assassin ducked, dodging the blow and sliding past the troll. He was now dangerously close to Tamurkhan.
But Tamurkhan had regained his mobility. The Nurgle champion laughed madly, throwing a punch that sent a spray of green, rotting pus across the ruins. His ogre-sized fist smashed a nearby statue to pieces, showcasing his unmatched strength.
However, the swing slowed him down, giving the assassin time to dodge. The burning dagger struck Tamurkhan's arm, sizzling as it seared his flesh. For a moment, the sorcerous flames seemed to overpower Tamurkhan.
"Hmph!" Tamurkhan grunted, and his wounded arm healed instantly. The pus from his wound corroded the dagger into nothingness.
This was his unique ability—Nurgle's blessing allowed him to resist most magical damage and heal wounds effortlessly!
Realizing the danger, the assassin quickly released his grip on the dagger and grabbed his remaining one. He unleashed all his power, blue and white flames and lightning engulfing him as he prepared to deliver a fatal blow to Tamurkhan.
Boom! The second ogre-sized fist finally landed, sending the assassin crashing into the pool. He was knocked unconscious on impact. Tamurkhan, suppressing the pain of the interrupted ritual, rose from the pit and pulled the assassin from the filthy water. The man was now old, his magic drained. Tamurkhan's eyes blazed with fury as he realized the assassin was nothing more than a puppet, controlled by sorcery!
Thanks to this assassin, his sacrificial ritual had been disrupted, and his body had been affected. Tamurkhan climbed out of the reservoir, forcing his increasingly sluggish mind to piece together the events.
Who sent this assassin? The Empire? Or one of his own?
No matter. It didn't matter anymore.
Tamurkhan's body was now deteriorating rapidly. His flesh rotted away, revealing the grotesque mutations and the stench of decay that marked him as Nurgle's favored. The buzzing flies and foul odor that surrounded him were evidence of Nurgle's highest blessings. He needed a new body.
"Nuln!!!"
At the same time, in Nuln, at the Garden of Morr.
A towering wizard's tower stood amidst thousands of gravestones and crypts, exuding an eerie and dark aura. It had stood there for over a century, considered a forbidden zone by all. Even the most powerful in Nuln—High Magistrate Theodore, Duchess Emanuelle, and Chief Engineer Maybach—dared not approach.
This was the residence of Nuln's Black Lady, the Rose of the Cemetery, and the city's guardian deity, the death wizard Elspeth von Draken. The people held her in both awe and fear.
At this moment, the wizard's tower had an unexpected visitor.
The Dark Elf Olica, wearing a black-and-white knee-length dress adorned with magical cross-flower vines, sat across from the Rose of the Cemetery. Her black-stockinged legs were crossed as the two master wizards faced each other. The violet-red magic emanating from the Cemetery Rose intertwined with the black-red magic of Olica, forming threads of power that reached the tower's highest point.
Suddenly, the magical threads in the room exploded with a loud crack, twisting several times before merging into a tangled mass that echoed through the air.
"He's dead. Your assassin failed," Olica said as she opened her eyes,fixing her gaze on Elspeth across from her. "This is as far as I could help. Even with our combined power, the puppet could only bear about thirty percent of the intended magic."
"It doesn't matter," Elspeth replied coldly. "It's enough. The energy we left within him will be the key to his destruction."
"This is your plan?" Olica asked, intrigued. "You know how to deal with Nurgle's chosen champion. You've laid trap after trap, guiding him into each one. You've used every resource at your disposal, including my master and me."
"To be honest, I'm not sure why you're here," Elspeth's answer was evasive. She scrutinized Olica, the Dark Elf's long hair flowing down to the floor. The Black Lady of Nuln noticed the mischievous smile on Olica's face and continued, "Or rather, I'm surprised you've appeared in the mortal world."
"Why shouldn't I be here? I have a vessel that allows me to walk among mortals," Olica smiled. "And besides, I have my master."
"Your master has no idea what you've taken from him," Elspeth sighed, her expression one of mild concern. "Including the Duchess. The Duchess may not be mediocre, but she's far from extraordinary. She hides it well, making herself seem frail, but in truth, she was already a legendary warrior by the time she returned to Nuln."
"And what does that have to do with me?" Olica's face remained indifferent when Emilia was mentioned. "I don't kill her because she is my master's woman. To me, my master is everything."
Elspeth observed the eerie smile on Olica's face and shook her head. Her pale, bloodless face returned to its usual calm. If one only considered her appearance, it was hard to imagine that when Emilia's grandfather was still the ruler of Nuln, the Cemetery Rose had already been the city's guardian deity.
"Enough. It's time to state your terms," Elspeth said after a brief pause.
"You are the best human practitioner of death magic. I need your help," Olica nodded, laying out her request. "I need you to help me awaken a sleeping soul, a great soul trapped in eternal nightmares. The Pale Queen found him in a rift in the Warp over ten thousand years ago. She has spent millennia repairing the damage to his soul, but she has never been able to awaken him."
Nuln's Black Lady initially thought to suggest that Olica seek help from High Elves or Dark Elves, but considering Olica's current status, she nodded instead. "I will attempt to use my magic and commune with the death god Morr to awaken him."
The Pale Queen's domain was souls, while the god Morr's domain was the dead—two distinct realms.
The deal was struck. Olica chanted an incantation, and the Dark Elf produced a brilliant golden soul, shining like the sun. "This is it."
The soul was unique. Even as Olica held it in her hands, it radiated a dazzling warmth—a power of light, unwavering loyalty, radiant love, and strict discipline.
In the center of the golden soul, a drop of crimson liquid was flanked by a pair of pure white wings, filling the dim wizard's tower with endless light. This light, far from harming Elspeth and Olica, who both thrived in darkness, instead made them feel incredibly comfortable. It was the light of humanity, the light of hope.
Nuln's Black Lady widened her eyes, her expression showing surprise for the first time.
"This is...!!!"
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