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

Chapter 562 You're not worthy?!

The reddish-pink wooden door creaked open, and pure white wings slowly unfurled. A bright light appeared out of nowhere, instantly illuminating the entire Blood Raven's relic vault.
Those collections that originally harbored the evil power of the warp also receded under this light, as if nothing could exist under this bright light.

Gabriel Angelos was momentarily stunned when he saw Saint Gilles' figure, because he had not yet asked Saint Gilles for help.
But Gabriel Angelos quickly realized that this must be the legendary prophetic power of Saint Gilles at work.
No wonder he is the genetic father of the Blood Ravens since ancient times!

Saint Gilles emerged from the red-pink doorway, her golden hair hidden beneath a silver chain headscarf, revealing a face of beauty beyond words. Her golden eyes, shining brightly, stared at the tall figure cloaked and holding a broken furnace.

“Fogan, Fogrim, a clone of my brother.” Saint Gilles’ voice was calm and clear, like a silver bell.

The hooded figure froze slightly in place.

But in the end, he only chuckled softly twice, slowly reached out and removed his hood, revealing his face.

In an instant, the radiance emanating from Saint Gilles seemed to be forced back by that figure.
Gabriel Angelos and all the Blood Raven Terminators gasped slightly, and even the undead Anlakel was temporarily stunned by that face.

Even though he was reluctant, Gabriel still had to admit that the beauty of that face was no less than that of Saint Gillespie.
Her long, pure white hair, slender face, violet eyes, and delicate lips that seemed to smile yet also mocked her—she was noble, elegant, and stunningly beautiful.
If Saint Gilles' beauty was sacred, then the beauty of this man before me was radiant.

Saint Gilles is like a god, an angel, an absolute perfection beyond human reach.
He is like a model, a paragon, the ultimate embodiment of human beauty.
Primarch Vograim, Gabriel, and everyone present heard the name of this white-haired man.

Fugan moved his thin lips slightly and said in a sincere and melodious tone, "Saint Gilles, I have always longed to meet you, the most perfect one among us brothers."

“I thought you would say that you are the most perfect one,” Saint Gilles said, gazing at the face.

If Guilliman were here, he would probably tear that face apart without restraint.
"No, I am still learning and growing. Until I truly achieve perfection, you will always be someone I learn from."

Fugen's words could be described as humble, or even flattering.

Then he made a slight gesture, as if referring to someone, and continued:
"As for him, he fell to this point precisely because he was not perfect enough."

This made Saint Gilles frown slightly and let out a soft sigh.

He gripped the spear of Bi Gong tightly in his hand.

“I have come here following the guidance of our fathers, brother.”

Fugen sensed the disgust in Saint Gilles's eyes and explained softly:

“I am not like him. My soul, my mind, and my body remain loyal to our father and to you brothers.”

"I am willing to be your student, your servant, and to accept your teachings in order to prove my loyalty."

“Brother, you gave your fallen offspring a chance to become a perfect and holy person, why are you unwilling to give the same opportunity to your brother?”

Fugen's words were earnest and sincere. Even though everyone present knew what sins this Primarch had committed, they couldn't help but be somewhat captivated by his charm, except for one person.

“Tell these words to Felus. In my opinion, you are just repeating the same mistake. I should just kill you to prevent future troubles.” Saint Gilles’ voice was filled with anger and a hint of sorrow.

There was a moment of stillness in the air.
Then Fugen sighed softly.

"I understand, but I will not sit idly by and wait to die."

Fugen slightly raised the Brokensmith's Warhammer in his hand, but still couldn't help looking at Saint Gilles with his violet eyes:

"Brother, I am truly not the same as him anymore."

"You are not my brother." The only response to Forgrim was a low growl followed by the spear of Bigong.
The teardrop spear, forged by the Emperor himself for Saint Gilles, hurtled through the air at a speed exceeding the limits of mortal vision, even that of the Astartes. But Fugen was not an Astartes; he was a clone created by Fabius Bayer.

But in terms of the physical body, he is the Primarch —

The spear clashed with the hammer, sending sparks flying in all directions.
In the blink of an eye, Fugen and Saint Gilles had clashed hundreds of times.

"So fast. Such exquisite skill." Fugen swung the Broken Forge to block Saint Gilles's attack aimed straight at his face.
Each strike from Saint Gilles caused a bead of sweat to trickle down Fugen's forehead, and each strike filled Fugen with awe and admiration.
He was unlike any opponent he had ever faced before; this was the real battle.
But Fugen was able to keep up.
At first, Fugen could only defend almost entirely, but after several exchanges, he gradually began to learn Saint Gilles' fighting style and techniques, assimilating, refining, and transforming them into his own. He gradually became able to keep up with Saint Gilles' movements, and all of this happened in a very short time.
Fugen is like a beautiful, uncut gemstone, possessing infinite possibilities. Yet, gemstones are so hard that even countless iron filings cannot leave a mark on them; only refined gold can polish them.

Previously, his opponents were all far inferior to him and had no effect on honing his skills. But Saint-Gilles was different. Saint-Gilles put immense pressure on Fugen's body, and every encounter with Saint-Gilles was a learning experience and a chance for growth.
Stab it! ! !

Fugen's shoulder was grazed by Bi Gong's spear, and blood flowed out, but instead of showing any sign of pain, Fugen smiled.
That smile seemed to be a mixture of joy and sarcasm, with an added touch of smugness; he had caught the flaw!

Fugen's Broken Furnace, crackling with lightning, slammed towards Saint Gilles' chest.
Fugen actually disliked being called a clone.

He didn't want to be seen as a replica of himself, as a degraded original.

He was proud at heart, and did not consider himself inferior to other Primarchs. Deep down, he felt that he was one of the Emperor's sons.
Now he has finally found this opportunity to prove himself.
Saint Gilles effortlessly dodged Fugen's attack, his face calm and his eyes bright, as if he had anticipated everything that was about to happen.

"Ugh—" Fugen groaned, blood flowing down his side.

If he hadn't reacted quickly enough, Saint Gilles' spear would have been enough to kill him.

Is it a prophecy? One of Saint Gilles' innate talents
This left Fugen slightly frustrated, even though he had previously told Tarasin that among Primarchs, there was only a difference between being proficient and not proficient with a particular ability, not a difference between being unable to do it and being able to do it.
But there are indeed some things that Saint Gilles would do, but Fugen would not.

For example, Saint Gilles could fly, but Fuggen could not; Saint Gilles had extraordinary prophetic abilities, but Fuggen did not.
This seems to suggest that Fugen is not perfect.

On a material level, you are certainly perfect.
But your inner self is so empty, like a fine wine glass filled with awful Bar wine.
A voice suddenly rang in Fugen's mind, like someone whispering, yet it also sounded like he was speaking to himself.

Accept me.
Accept me.
+Meet me. +
We are one.
Just like the inside and outside of a mirror.
Only by accepting me can you become perfect.
“No!” Fugen refused in a low voice.

This wasn't the first time he'd heard that voice; he knew who was speaking, he knew who was yearning for his body.
Fugen brandished the Broken Furnace, barely managing to fend off Saint Gilles's increasingly deadly attacks.

Compared to before, Saint Gilles is now truly serious.
Fugen could sense that Saint Gilles was using some kind of power outside of his body, a power that did not belong to the real universe.
That's exactly right; we existed on the warp side long before we were even born.
That is precisely why we are perfect.
+A perfect body designed by our fathers, coupled with a perfect existence in the warp—this is us.
And now, you are merely a flawed product, possessing only an empty shell but lacking true existence.
+You are Fabius's clumsy creation, a mere reflection in a mirror, an illusion in water.+
Only by accepting me can you truly become perfect.
"Get out of here!" Fugen's expression turned ferocious.

He wielded the Broken Furnace with all his might, fending off Saint Gilles's increasingly ferocious attacks.

A bloody gash appeared on Fugen's neck; he was just a hair's breadth away from losing his life.

Look, you're about to die.
Perfection will not be found in a corpse.
Accept me, and I will let you live.
He said: You wish to share joy with me.
He said: You will share my body.
He said: You and I are one.
Blasphemous, obscene, decadent, and viscous sounds swirled in Fugen's ears, stimulating his nerves and craving his body.
That thing tried to enter Fugen's body and take over the physical body he had once lost.
"How could I die here? I am a phoenix! I am the emperor's most perfect son!" Fugen let out a sharp growl.

Faced with a life-or-death crisis, and confronted with these blasphemous and obscene enticements, Fugen, who had maintained a consistently humble demeanor, finally broke down.
His true nature was laid bare, a pride so extreme it was frightening.

The lewd laughter in the subspace sensed that burning pride, interpreting it as Fugen's acceptance of him, and couldn't resist reaching out to Fugen's body.

"I told you to get out of my way!!!"

However, that pride did not welcome the obscene presence of the subspace; instead, it resisted him in a more extreme way than the humility that Fugen feigned, even burning his arm in an instant, causing him to let out a sharp wail.

Fugen's face was contorted with rage, his eyes filled with disdain, disgust, and extreme arrogance.
"You ugly, twisted warp creature, do you think you're worthy to share my perfect body?!"

"Get away from me! Don't defile me with your filthy hands!"

(End of this chapter)