The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

The war continues in the ruined city of the Kurgan Steppe.

Tamurkhan and his plague legions slowly but inexorably charged into the fray between two warring factions. By now, both the Brass Warriors of Khorne and the Slaanesh Pleasure Knights realized that the outcome of this war was becoming increasingly uncertain. The mocking whispers of the evil gods echoed in their minds, each whisper pointing to entirely different outcomes.

Chaos is an unfathomable entity, and so are its followers. Nonetheless, they all shouted the names of their deities and decided to fight Tamurkhan's plague legions to the death!

Tamurkhan, riding his toad dragon, responded with scorn.

Above the battlefield, the torrential rain began to change.

Lightning streaked across the sky, and the night became murky as acid rain poured down. The rotting raindrops fell on the corpses, and a terrifying scene unfolded.

The dead bodies on the battlefield melted away like snow under the sun.

As the rain spread, everyone except Tamurkhan's plague legions found themselves in a horrifying situation. The exposed wounds of those still fighting began to fester upon contact with the acid rain.

The first to suffer were the Slaanesh Pleasure Knights. Their bodies emitted green smoke under the rain's corrosive power, causing even the most perverted and insane of them to scream in agony. Tentacles emerged from the ground, grabbing the knights' warhorses. The Norscan and Kurgan horses quickly collapsed, either crippled, maimed, or unable to control themselves due to the rain's corrosion. The dismounted knights fell into the mud.

Tamurkhan laughed deeply and led his troops to flank the Pleasure Knights.

The plague legions crushed the Pleasure Knights with unstoppable force. The Slaanesh followers were horrified to realize they had lost their prized mobility due to the acid rain, and a massacre ensued among the city's ruins.

At this moment, Slaanesh champion Sargathas realized with fury that the battle was turning against him. Khorne champion Haka showed no sense of crisis and continued to attack the Pleasure Knights' positions with his brass-armored chosen warriors. Sandwiched between two forces, the Pleasure Knights were rapidly defeated. Sargathas' pride and dignity were wounded, and when he considered that he might fail before the gods, he could no longer contain his rage.

The Slaanesh champion ordered his elite Chaos Knights to charge at Tamurkhan's plague legions. Sargathas led the charge himself, roaring in fury, determined to make Tamurkhan pay for his filthy assault.

Tamurkhan, seated on his toad dragon, remained calm in the face of Sargathas' challenge.

The toad dragon, already scarred from previous battles, found its balance between pain and regeneration. Like a nightmare, it opened its massive mouth and spewed out a torrent of indescribable filth.

A wave of foul energy sprayed toward Sargathas. The Slaanesh champion chanted spells, and pink and purple energies emerged under his will. Slaanesh's flames lit up the nearby ruins, burning through any obstacles between them. But the flames couldn't persist against the toad dragon's filth, which extinguished them.

However, Sargathas had a plan. Calculating the distance, he leaped from his mount, avoiding the incoming torrent, and soared into the sky. His mount melted into a puddle of necrotic liquid as he landed on the toad dragon's back, facing Tamurkhan.

Sargathas' once-pristine armor was now covered in filth and rust from the acid rain, driving him to madness. He could not forgive Tamurkhan for what he had done to him and his troops. He would retaliate!

As expected, Tamurkhan, encumbered by his bulky form and decaying environment, moved slowly. He seemed surprised by Sargathas' action, still preparing to raise his axe in defense.

Too late. Sargathas' runeblade struck like a poised viper, piercing Tamurkhan's heart deeply.

A victorious roar echoed across the battlefield. The Slaanesh champion shouted his triumph, eager to offer this victory to the Prince of Pleasure.

Only the distant traveler remained calm, whispering softly inside his helmet: "Too young."

Tamurkhan's laughter interrupted Sargathas' celebration. The decaying body began to twist, swell, and burst like a rotten fruit, revealing Tamurkhan's true form.

A maggot, about twenty centimeters wide and a meter long, with multiple black compound eyes and grayish mucus-covered stripes, erupted from Tamurkhan's body. It lunged at Sargathas' unprotected throat, tearing through the armor and burrowing into his flesh. The maggot wriggled and twisted as it forced its way into Sargathas' chest cavity.

The Slaanesh champion stood still as sounds emanated from his chest, his horrified expression freezing. He fell from the toad dragon, collapsing into the rain.

The abandoned city seemed to pause.

Then, "Sargathas" rose from the mud, now riding the toad dragon, loudly proclaiming his victory. This new figure let out a deafening roar, and the plague legions, initially bewildered, quickly erupted into diseased cheers, celebrating their master's rebirth.

The Khan had been reborn! This was his new body! This was Nurgle's victory!

With Sargathas dead, the chaos tribes lost their will to fight, fleeing while shouting their deities' names. Tamurkhan stood amidst the rotting corpses and fallen banners, declaring his victory to the gods.

He loudly proclaimed his name and heritage. He, Tamurkhan, was one of the twisted sons of the ancient Kurgan Emperor. Now, the true heir of the Kurgan Emperor had returned! Slaughter and conquest were his birthright. He praised Nurgle for granting him this invaluable blessing and for guiding him toward his ultimate goal: the Chaos Throne!

Tamurkhan declared Nurgle's command: march south and destroy the Empire of Charlemagne!

The entire steppe was electrified by Nurgle's edict. Today's victory belonged to Nurgle's warriors. Sickly green lightning streaked across the sky as acid rain poured down, corroding the bones of the dead, resonating with Nurgle's cold laughter in the storm.

"Will you join us, outsider?" Tamurkhan called out, his new body, the former champion of Slaanesh's, lending an odd tone to his voice—both alluring and rotting.

"No, I am here only to find the 'Crown of Dominion.' Do you know where it is?" The traveler refused, answering calmly. "I came only for this."

"I do not know where it is." Tamurkhan thought for a moment and shook his head. "I haven't heard of it."

"Well then, enjoy your southern campaign." The traveler, having no information, gestured to his followers to leave.

The bright mark on Tamurkhan indicated his status as Nurgle's chosen champion. The traveler saw no need for conflict. Since Tamurkhan was heading to attack Charlemagne's empire, why not?

Seeing the chaos mark, Tamurkhan guessed the traveler's identity. He signaled his eager Nurgle warriors to halt and whispered, "May I know your name, outsider?"

"My name is Archaon!"

The traveler and his group departed.

The remaining chaos tribes and countless warriors gathered under Tamurkhan, demanding to know the location of the Chaos Throne and their next target.

"We will rule the world! We will conquer every land, but first, Nurgle has given us a great goal!"

"Charlemagne's empire!"

"Our army will cross the Sorrow Mountains, traverse the Darklands, and destroy this nation in a sea of plague!"

"This will be a long journey, but it will be filled with glory, battle, and spoils! The weak will become weaker, the strong stronger! Battle is the blessing of the true gods! Nurgle's blessing will grant you the glory of slaughter and victory!"

"At the end, the supreme Chaos Throne awaits in Nuln! The homeland of the savior Ludwig! Let us destroy it!"

Thunderous cheers followed.

The Worm King, the rightful heir of the Kurgan Emperor, the gluttonous master, Tamurkhan, and his army began preparing to march south.

...Southward we go...

"Is Brother Fulgrim returning to the Old World?" Naturally, Ryan was still unaware of the events on the Kurgan Steppe thousands of miles away. He wasn't a true god, and even the gods of the Old World couldn't perceive what was happening on that corrupted land.

He was discussing recent events with Angron: "Did he gain anything?"

"Recruitment is always an issue," Angron nodded. "Fulgrim's legion reportedly allied with the servants of the Old Ones under Father's will. He's returning to the Old World to recruit more troops."

"Hmm, he mentioned in his letter that he obtained considerable wealth and would bring some back to share with me," Ryan read the letter and smiled widely: "Great!"

"That must be Father's command!" Angron grumbled while brushing his griffon's feathers: "Take a break and then head back. Your wife is pregnant, and you've been away fighting. Since you're back, you should go to her."

Francois and the others found this strange.

The princess?

Sulia was now a duchess and would be queen in the future. Why call her princess?

But

 looking at Angron, he didn't seem particularly cultured. Francois and the others didn't question it, thinking it might be a slip of the tongue or an old habit from Nord that he brought over, not understanding the difference.

"Hehehe," Ryan could only play dumb, laughing a few times.

After a short rest, Ryan and the others resumed their journey, finally reaching Ryan's residence, the Earl's castle in Gene Town, after three hours: "Phew, finally home."

Seeing Ryan return, a soft, graceful figure appeared from the second-floor stairs. Confirming it was Ryan, she couldn't contain her excitement.

"Master! You're back?"

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