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

Chapter 521 Bitterness

"Just how much torture did you suffer at the hands of the slave owners?"

The aged gladiator, the illusion woven by Kahn, spoke in a sorrowful voice.
The way he looked at Angron's twisted body was like a father watching his child being tormented by drug addiction to the point of being unrecognizable.
He is Angron's foster father in Nutheria, the old gladiator Eunochus.
He and Anglon had fought many enemies together, but when slave owners forced them to duel, both Anglon and Eunouchaus refused.
So the slave owners imposed a cruel punishment: they implanted the Butcher's Nail into Anglon's head. In the extreme rage and pain brought on by the brutal surgery, Anglon accidentally killed Eunochor.
This event marked the beginning of Angron's rebellion, but also the beginning of his downfall and madness.
Using the soul reflection provided by the Emperor and the raccoon suit provided by Zhou Yun, Kahn recreated Oinemouth's figure in the form of an illusion before Angron's eyes.

This was Zhou Yun's idea.
Upon hearing the idea, Saint Gilles' expression faltered, Guilliman shook his head repeatedly, and only the Emperor thought it was indeed a good idea.

Some might use this to criticize Zhou Yun for lacking moral principles, feeling that such behavior of exploiting other people's family ties is extremely malicious, no different from resurrecting an enemy's beloved relatives and then stuffing explosive tags into the resurrected body—simply inherently evil.

But Zhou Yun had a question.

Doesn't Anglon want to see Eunouchay again?
Doesn't he want to see his father, whom he accidentally killed, again?
Zhou Yun had clearly fulfilled Anglong's wish by allowing him to meet his adoptive father.

Therefore, Zhou Yun felt that he was practically doing charity, and Anglong should be thanking him.

Alas, in this dark and profound fortieth millennium of humankind, true kindness is never understood.
Zhou Yun couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

Angron's reaction was even stronger than Kahn had anticipated.
The crimson behemoth froze in its original form almost the instant it saw Oynormouth.

When Oynormouth's voice reached Anglon's ears, Kahn saw once again the same sorrow from ten thousand years ago in those now-yellow and empty eyes.
Suddenly, Kahn realized that Angron's soul, the original Angron, had always been deep within this crimson body, tormented by rage and pain.
This body, this life, is itself the shackles that imprison Angron.

The prolonged torment of fate had extinguished any hope of a successful rebellion for Angron. He utterly gave up on himself, cowering before his cage and shackles, consumed by dark rage, unwilling to think about or understand the world.

The appearance of Eunhomouth briefly awakened Angron, evoking a few emotions beyond anger.

He looked at Eunouchour with a blank expression, puzzled as to why he couldn't muster any anger towards this frail mortal, why he couldn't raise his arm, why he couldn't swing his axe at him.
Many fragmented memories flashed before his eyes, as if they were roaring, pleading, and hoping that Anglon would not repeat the mistakes of the past.

Oynormouth slightly raised his hands, extending them towards Angron, and said in his deep voice, as dull as the pounding sand of a gladiatorial arena:

"Child, come here, let me see you."

How many years has it been since we last met? Ten thousand years?

"You have really suffered far too much."

"If I could always fight alongside you, maybe things really would be different."

Anglon instinctively took a step toward Eunhomouth.

+No!+
The Blood God's roar echoed in Angron's ears, a howl warning him of a trap.

But Angron seemed oblivious to the Blood God's roar, taking another step forward, his massive body inching closer to Eunouchaus. +No! +
+No!+
+No!+
The Blood God's voice kept ringing in Angron's ears, but Angron seemed not to hear it.
The Blood God could also choose to directly intervene and control Angron with his own power.
But in the Blood God's view, this was a bit too much of a violation of the rules, a breach of the agreement he had reached with Zhou Yun.

After all, a reminder is at most a blessing, but to actually do it yourself is just playing around.

Anglon, driven by instinct, walked toward Eunouchmouth.
His muscles appeared weak and powerless in Angron's eyes; his physique was minuscule compared to Angron, and his strength was utterly inferior.

But for some reason, Angron felt that the hands reaching towards him possessed an irresistible force.
The soul of Eunouchay, reflected in reality through this illusion, gently reached out and cradled Anglon's heavy face.

Tears welled up in the old gladiator's eyes as he tried to find traces of Angron's former face with his fingers.

Eunouchmouth was not forced to carry out this plan.

Although Kahn considered the plan extremely unethical, Eunouchaus chose to accept it because...
"My child, my fighter, my comrade-in-arms."

Oinemouth said softly:
“I still remember what you said to me when we were trapped in a cage.”

“You said that if one day you betray your brothers and sisters and become a slave owner’s lackey, you would rather I cut off your head.”

"I've come, child, I've come to keep my promise."

Angron's head, almost completely destroyed by the Butcher's Nail, couldn't understand what Eugènemouth was saying.
He simply couldn't help but reach out, wanting to embrace this tiny mortal, to embrace the gladiator's body.

Eunouch did not resist, allowing Anglon to pull him into his arms.
First came the warmth, a warmth that reminded Angron of the sun-warmed sands of the arena.

Then came the heat, so hot that it reminded Angron of the scorching sun of Nuthria.
He suddenly caught a fragment of a memory.

There stood a robust old gladiator and a strong young boy, on the sandy ground of the arena, looking at the sun in the sky.

"My child, freedom is a priceless gift from heaven, more precious than all the riches buried beneath the earth, the seabed, and among the stars."

"Freedom is just as worth risking one's life for as honor; the most painful thing is to be enslaved without freedom."

"But what's even more painful is that the will to pursue freedom is gone."

Angron let out a wail and a roar, and the old gladiator in his arms slowly dissipated, leaving only a moment of intense heat from the mini sun hidden within him, lashing Angron's crimson flesh.

(End of this chapter)