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

Chapter 572 Peturabo, You Can Be the Dark Regent of the Empire
Bang! ! ! !

Ultimately, it was the sensory abilities honed through the superpower training kit that helped Finney react.
His body suddenly spun around, his power sword held horizontally, clashing with the teardrop-shaped spear similar to Bi Gong's spear.
The force of the spear, like a meteor crashing to the ground, was immense. Finney felt that the power of this spear was several times greater than the chainsaw sword that Seth had swung at him with all his might in the training ground; it almost shattered the bones in his arm.
Finney stared in disbelief. He was not only squeezing every ounce of power from his superhuman body, but also every wisp of will in his brain, turning it into telekinesis to block the spear.

boom! ! ! !

With a crisp sound, the power sword in Finney's hand, unable to withstand the weight, snapped in two and stuck diagonally into the ground beside him.
The blood-stained, filthy spear was also flung away.

"To be able to block this spear, you are among the top Astartes who have the blood of Saint Gilles flowing through your veins."

A clear voice rang out, and white wings stained with blood trembled slowly, while long hair, woven from golden threads, danced in the foul-smelling wind.

The instant that figure appeared, a surge of intense rage erupted in the hearts of every cultivator in this blood-soaked breeding ground who carried the blood of Saint Gilles.

His anger intensified, especially after seeing the figure's face.
The face was almost identical to that of Saint Gilles, except that the eyes were more crimson and the fangs protruded slightly from the upper lip, making it appear much more bloodthirsty than the real Saint Gilles.

The demon of the Blood God, a red angel born from the wrath of all the holy blood angels, descended upon this breeding ground, staring at Finney with a crimson hunger.

"If you are willing to accept your true desires and release your anger, you will be even better," the Red Angel said with a smile.

Every word he said stimulated Finney, constantly awakening the scarlet hunger within him.

Finney gritted his teeth, suppressing the hunger and anger within him, and growled, "Imposter."

This remark elicited a few cold laughs from the Red Angel: "A fake?"

"How do you know that the cursed one originally intended to create Saint Gillespie not in my likeness?"

"Everyone knows that the Holy Blood Angels come from Saint Gilles's genetic sequence, but before Saint Gilles's return, how could those ghouls resemble angels at all?"

"Ghouls are the cursed beings' arrangement for you and for Saint Gilles; angels are merely a mutation that occurred by chance."

“You should not suppress your nature. Accepting it and acknowledging that you are ghouls will make you more comfortable.”

"You dare call yourself the Primarch?" Finney gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his composure as he pointed his broken sword at the Scarlet Angel. "If that's the case, why are you hiding your true colors and not daring to face Saint Gilles and Ryan El-Jonson?"

Finney had just realized that the Red Angel wasn't as close to the Primarch as he had claimed.

If it were the real Saint Gilles, Finney wouldn't have had a chance of blocking that spear strike at all.
The Red Angels aren't that strong!!
Finney has sparred with many of the best members of the Blood Angels over the decades.
In his memory, among the Angels of the Blood, aside from the Primarch, the most powerful without using psionic powers was Lord Dante after his Primarch modifications, followed by Gabriel Seth, the Chapter Master of the Flesh Rippers, and Seth was far stronger than Finney.
According to Finney's assessment, the Red Angel's strength is at most slightly stronger than Dante's, but far inferior to Saint Gilles'.

Finney, at least, still has the strength to fight.
The Red Angel's cheek twitched slightly, as if Finney's words had somewhat provoked him.

"Soon you will know how to address me," the Red Angel growled, his voice tinged with bloodlust.

A bloody ritual is underway; Corinnar itself is a sacrificial ground, and the children of Saint Gilles, who died in rage, are the sacrifices of the Red Angels.

The Red Angel could feel her blood flowing, could feel herself getting closer and closer to Saint Gillespie, almost there. Almost there.
"Why waste words with them? Just kill them." A low growl awakened the Red Angel.

The blasphemous chaotic energy transformed into a fierce wind, and the tall man wearing Terminator power armor and with his hair in a topknot stepped into the breeding farm through the blood pool. In his hand, he carried a ghostly blue demonic sword formed from countless human faces. Just one glance at that sword made all the humans present feel as if they were facing their natural enemy.

Chaos Warmaster, Abaddon the Great Raider, coldly surveyed his surroundings:

"Everything is going according to plan. The Star God has stopped the Lion Ryan El-Jonson, and Peturabo has also stopped Saint Gilles. The only problem is that Vashtor has disappeared."

"Why don't you hurry up and kill them all, complete the ritual, and let yourself replace Saint Gilles?"

Abaddon's eagerness stemmed largely from the fact that he was only able to regain his peak fighting power thanks to Vashtor's creations.

However, the effects of Vashtor's creations are time-limited. The longer it drags on, the more likely Abaddon is to revert to his severely injured and paralyzed state, and the more dangerous it becomes.

"you're right."

The red angel smiled:
“I really shouldn’t waste any more pity on this traitor.”

"Finny, go to hell."

The moment the words left his mouth, the Red Angel appeared before Finney, and the spear resembling the Spear of Bigong was now in his hand.

The spear pierced down in an instant, and Finney managed to raise his broken sword to block it.
However, the Red Angel's power was suddenly much stronger than before, forcefully knocking the broken sword from Finney's hand.

"Fool, you think you, a mere company commander, are worthy to fight me?"

“I am the embryo of the Primarch, destined to replace the Red Angel of Saint Gilles.”

“Every time an Astartes with holy blood dies in rage on this planet, I grow one step closer to the Primarch.” “Both of your Primarchs are trapped in my plans; who else can stand against me?”

The Red Angel sneered, and his spear drew an arc, aiming straight for Finney's throat.

"So, here I come." A slightly mocking voice rang out, and the warhammer carved with a double-headed eagle suddenly swung out from the void, directly blocking the Red Angel's spear.

The Red Angel's spear was forcefully knocked back by the hammer blow, and he stared stiffly at the man who suddenly emerged from the red and pink wooden door.
His long, silvery-white hair billowed from the shockwave of the hammer and spear clashing, revealing a pair of violet eyes that were glancing at the Red Angel with a mocking gaze. A disdainful smile played on his thin lips.

"And what right do you have to call yourself a proto-embryo?"

The iron-ringed robot swung its gravity hammer, smashing it down like a steel meteor towards the pure white sound.

The gravity hammer, capable of easily smashing an Astartes into mincemeat, was effortlessly deflected by a spear as light as a work of art.

Then, the heavy Kacherui battle shield was pierced in the blink of an eye, and the iron-ringed robot fell down with a thud.

But Peturabo wasn't in a hurry. He hardly moved around the galaxy during those ten thousand years, spending his free time practicing by making iron ring robots.

Over the course of ten thousand years, he had amassed countless iron ring robots; he brought a full three hundred with him to Corinnar this time alone.

It's worth noting that back then, Perturabo was able to contend with Angron with just fifty Iron Ring robots.

These iron-ringed robots form a circular array, raising their shields to form a city wall, protecting Peturabo within it.

“Fire,” Peturab said in his signature cold voice.

The Olympic-sized cannons began unleashing a barrage of fist-sized projectiles at the Primarch, the rain of fire and steel instantly engulfing Sanguis's figure.

But soon, Sanguiles gently flapped its wings and gracefully flew into the sky, tracing an arc at a speed that even the barrage of cannon fire from the Iron Ring Robots could not catch up with, before charging fiercely towards Peturabo.

With a thought, Perturabo channeled his thoughts into the Iron Rings' central control system. Instantly, all the Iron Ring robots raised their warhammers, and hundreds of roaring bolts of lightning surged towards Saint Gillespie.

Saint Gilles didn't dodge or flinch, but instead swung his Bigong Spear in mid-air to meet the attack head-on. His powerful spiritual energy clashed with the lightning released by the Iron Ring Robot, and for a moment, neither side could gain the upper hand.

As psionic energy and lightning collided and scattered, Saint Gilles' figure passed directly through the intersection of the two energies, wielding the Spear of Bigong and flying down, the spearhead aimed straight for Perturabo's head.

The iron rings instantly formed a protective array, layer upon layer of heavy shields shielding Peturabo.

In the blink of an eye, Saint Gilles destroyed more than ten Iron Ring Robots with his spear, forcing Perturabo to wield his warhammer to stop him.

The spear clashed with the hammer, and the two Primarchs clashed directly.

“You don’t seem to be in a hurry,” Peturabo said, his pale eyes fixed on Saint-Gilles. He could sense that Saint-Gilles hadn’t used his full strength yet.

A smile flickered across Saint Gilles's lips: "Do you really believe the Red Angel can replace me?"

"Whether he can replace you is none of my business," Peturabo replied coldly. "I am only here to fulfill a contract and to take revenge on your despicable thief offspring."

“Actually, they are not my offspring. You’ve got the wrong people,” Saint Gilles said nonchalantly. “But I admit, they were quite audacious to steal your sister’s replica.”

Perturabo grunted angrily, his heavy hammer forcing Sanguiles back.

Saint Gilles flew slightly backward, effortlessly deflecting the force of Peturabo's hammer.

“Petulabo, my brother, actually, among the traitors, you are the one I understand the least.”

"Why did you betray the empire? And what did you gain from that betrayal?"

"You think we haven't given you enough respect? But did the traitors give you that? We know perfectly well what Fugrim did to you."

"You hate those dirty and tiring jobs? But after you joined the traitor, weren't you still doing the same jobs?"

"Think about it, if you hadn't betrayed the Empire and remained loyal to it, you would have been the Empire's only Primarch for the ten thousand years since Guilliman and Dorne left."

"You can be the wise king you want to be, you can build the empire into the ideal country and utopia you desire, and you can achieve far greater things than Dorne."

"What exactly are you trying to say?!" Peturabo roared, demanding an answer.

"Are you interested in returning to be the Dark Regent of the Empire?" Saint Gilles asked with a bright smile, seemingly joking yet serious.

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(End of this chapter)