I'm in Warhammer, please don't praise Doraemon

Chapter 252 Dad! You're not dead!

Abaddon was wrapped in a raging fire, and the blasphemous evil power of the Warp flowed from his body.

The thousands of faces on Dranikon screamed in unison, singing praises of death, erosion and destruction,
Abaddon could not stand being mocked by a mere mortal, being suppressed by a mere mortal in front of the elite of the Black Legion.
The Black Legion is a loose organization after all.
If he showed any sign of weakness, his subordinates would become disloyal, the Black Legion's power would be weakened, and they would be further away from their goal of overthrowing the empire and killing the false emperor.
This was something he absolutely could not tolerate.

He must kill this mortal here——————

Seeing that Zhou Yun did not swing the dull toy sword again, a light flashed in Abaddon's eyes, and he thought to himself, "As expected,
It's the sword, all the problems are that toy sword,
Although I don't know why Dranikon didn't notice the problem with the toy sword,

I don't know why a mere toy sword could resist the demonic weapon that was created by the first murder of mankind.
But apparently, that toy sword has a time limit,

Now, Abaddon can easily take that mortal's life!

Drainikon now cooperated with Abaddon as never before, and was also angry about the recent defeat.
It is the nemesis of all mankind. Even the emperor, the master of mankind, should be afraid of its power.
It is the death of man, an undeniable murder,

Dranikorn roared and vented his sub-space evil power to the mortal named Zhou Yun in front of him.
Suddenly, Abaddon felt that Dranicorn paused slightly.
Abaddon suddenly felt a chill down his spine. He suddenly noticed that the white pocket on Zhou Yun's stomach had expanded.
An ordinary finely crafted power sword cut through the snow, and the light blue energy field roared with powerful psychic power, melting the snowflakes falling from the sky.

Instantly, the sword seemed to have cut a wound in Crassus's cold mist.
Abaddon was completely unable to keep up with the speed of the sword, even if he focused his attention on the power sword.

Dranikon seized control of his arm and quickly blocked the power sword that was stabbing towards Abaddon's chest.
But Abaddon's physical fitness dragged down the magic sword.
"what!!!!"

A wail of extreme pain came from his mouth, and Abaddon staggered back a few steps.
The chest of his power armor was torn apart, and those hideous twisted and squirming cables like tentacles stretched out from the crack.

At the same time, the wounds left by Sigismund in the past were exposed to the cold wind, and blood continued to flow out.

A whistling power sword was now inserted into the wound, and the sword was attached with powerful psychic energy, burning Abaddon's body and soul.
Moreover, the power sword accurately pierced one of Abaddon's two hearts, causing him unbearable pain.

The black sword that he had hung on his waist as a trophy vibrated slightly, and the machine spirit in it seemed to come alive again, as if mocking Abaddon.
Perhaps some of Sigismund's consciousness remains in this sword, or the machine soul in the sword is tainted with Sigismund's personality and emotions.
This is why Abaddon insisted on hanging the sword on his waist. He wanted Sigismund to witness him destroy the empire bit by bit.

However, now, the black sword has only witnessed his clown-like failures.
Abaddon raised his head fiercely and stared at Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun shook the pocket on his stomach slightly and looked at Abaddon with a smile on his face:
"Warmaster, can you perform that again?"

"That's it. The era of the Primarch is over!"

As Zhou Yun finished speaking,
A tall figure in a linen robe emerged from Zhou Yun's pocket.
The cold wind blew, and the flowing linen robe moved with the wind. The flowing robe also swept across the snow, leaving a light trace and outlining the figure.
The robe outlined a tall, shapeless figure that seemed to be somewhere between reality and myth, like a marble figure;
He might be more than three meters tall, or five or six meters tall.

Maybe with wings, maybe not,
Maybe he was wearing armor, maybe he was just wearing a robe,

Nothing is certain, it seems that there is only a shadow under the robe.
But there is no doubt that even if it is a shadow, it is a shadow full of divinity.

The air was stiller than at any other time before,

Both the Black Legion and the Expeditionary Force stopped their actions at this moment.

The two parties who were still fighting couldn't help but look at the figure standing next to Zhou Yun.
They didn't know who it was, or what kind of existence it was, but they all felt that a being far superior to mortals was standing there.
Saint Celestine let out a cry of joy and surprise. The wound on her chest caused by Abaddon had healed. Her pure wings drooped slightly on the ground, and her eyes were filled with both disbelief and piety.

"Who are you?!"

Abaddon let out a sharp roar.

That sword just now, that size, that power, that sacred feeling beyond the world
As an Astartes warrior who survived the Great Crusade and witnessed many Primarchs,

Abaddon knew that the man standing before him was undoubtedly
“This is impossible!!!”

"Your era is over!!"

"Are you an illusion? Or is this the evil magic of the false emperor?" Abaddon roared, condemning the figure in front of him.

However, the figure only uttered a sigh that was almost pitiful.
Abaddon felt that the voice was familiar, as if it was the voice of someone he should never forget.
He suddenly stretched out his hand, fiercely pulled out the ordinary power sword from his chest, and threw it on the snow. The blood instantly dyed the ground red.

The wound on his chest did not heal under the action of the cells released by the Laraman Organ. Instead, blood continued to flow out, as if the psychic energy remaining in the wound was constantly damaging Abaddon's body.

A feeling of dizziness invaded Abaddon's brain. He looked at the scar on his chest.
It was discovered that it not only contained the power of the Emperor, but also the power of the Four Chaos Gods.
Abaddon couldn't help but let out a whoosh of laughter, and said to the unknown figure in front of him:

"Look at how hypocritical you are. You claim to be loyal but have already fallen into the abyss of chaos!"

"I only know how to use Chaos, and how pathetic you are to submit to them!"

".Abaddon, what has blinded you?"

A slightly dull voice came from the mouth of the figure in the linen robe. His fingers took the hot performance clapperboard & robot director from Zhou Yun without leaving any trace and pressed it lightly.
"You were once a member of the Council of Four Kings, sworn in the name of Luna to advise the Primarch."

"But you made one mistake after another and covered your own eyes with your own hands."

"You knew that the Great Rebellion was a mistake, but you kept making the same mistake over and over again, repeating the same mistake for ten thousand years."

"You knew that the gods controlled the Warmaster, and you as well, but you closed your ears and turned a blind eye to your own corruption."

"Ezekiel, what have you become?"

The figure's words did not contain any hatred towards Abaddon, only pity, regret and deep self-blame.
And Abaddon felt that the voice was so familiar.
"No!"

Abaddon took a step back and roared in horror:
"You can't be him! You're just a liar!"

"Does the fake emperor think he can scare me like this?!"

Abaddon roared angrily. He ignored the wounds on his body, held up Draconian, and rushed towards the figure in the linen robe like a madman.

That figure didn't even have a weapon in his hand.

And in Ezekyle Abaddon's hand was the magic sword Draconian——

However, Abaddon was already injured, and his speed was much slower than before.
The figure in the linen robe dodged the blade of the magic sword with amazing elegance. The flowing robe just happened to brush against the blade of Draconian's sword, which was shining with a faint blue light. The robe was then ignited, as if teasing Abaddon.
Then the figure's powerful arm suddenly grabbed Abaddon's wrist and his body suddenly approached Abaddon.
Before Abaddon's brain could determine the situation, the figure in the linen robe reached out to Abaddon's waist.

"Ezekiel, this does not belong to you."

The black sword was unsheathed, and the machine spirit roared excitedly, igniting the energy field on the sword that was like the night.
The black sword, forged from the fragments of Sigismund's sword, was held in the robed figure's hand and chopped straight down.

"what!!!!"

Abaddon howled as his face was split in the middle, with his forehead, nose, and mouth all split in half.
At this time, Dranikon exerted his strength and controlled Abaddon's arm to resist the second attack of the black sword.

Suddenly, there was a loud explosion in the void, and the souls of everyone present felt a tremor.
They all seemed to have seen a vision of a man killing another man with a stone tool.
Then Abaddon retreated several steps, and the figure in the linen robe also retreated slightly.
"No wonder my father is so afraid of you, Dranicorn." The linen-robed figure said with a slight exclamation.

Abaddon tried to hold on to the figure again, but his legs went limp and he fell to his knees in the snow.

He gasped and raised his head fiercely, and the robed figure slowly walked in front of Abaddon.
The cold wind blew the linen robe slightly, revealing the figure's face a little, and Abaddon happened to see it.
He took a deep breath, his pupils trembled uncontrollably, his mouth opened wide, his tongue twitched constantly, and he struggled to utter a complete sentence.
"father?"

"Why aren't you dead?!"

(End of this chapter)