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

Chapter 595 Let's all just worship the great god together!

"I will die."

"but not now."

A split second before Shermeh's scythe fell, Jeanne had already waved her battle flag, blocking the void scythe.
The lance and scythe clashed, golden flames and emerald energy intertwining.

"Prophetic abilities?"

Jeanne had already reacted before Shemech launched his attack.
But Shemel wasn't surprised; it was quite normal for psionicists to possess such talents.

Before his eyes, which flickered with emerald flames, appeared a force field woven from invisible threads—the concrete form of an anti-subspace force field. Any contact with subspace would create ripples on it.
As expected, the anti-subspace force field around Jeanne was rippled wildly.

Although it's unclear what method this woman used, no matter how stubborn she was, she was undoubtedly using the power of the subspace.
Shemohe sneered and slightly twirled the battle scythe in his hand.

The phase shift effect activated instantly. The war scythe, like a phantom, pierced through the battle flag in Jeanne's hand, broke through the energy field released by the iron halo behind Jeanne's head, and stabbed directly towards Jeanne's head.

This is the culmination of necromantic phase technology, capable of penetrating any form of defense at will.

Suddenly, a clanging sound came from Shemehe's chest. His living metal body dented, and he tilted backward uncontrollably, as if some unseen iron fist had struck him.

Shemerhe's body swayed slightly, and his scythe trembled as it brushed past Jeanne's face.

Shemohe staggered back a few steps, looking somewhat bewildered.

What was that just now?
Even if this human woman can use psionic energy within the exorcising dead zone, she will still leave traces on the anti-subspace force field, ensuring that Shemehe won't be completely unaware.
But the invisible power released by that woman did not elicit any reaction from the Black Stone at all, as if... as if it were a power entirely from the real universe, and had nothing to do with the subspace.

“This is the power of faith,” Jeanne said softly.

This is the power of the superpower training box.
The Superpower Training Kit is a relatively inexpensive item that allows users to train for three years, three hours a day. Upon completion, the user will master three abilities: teleportation, X-ray vision, and telekinesis.

You don't even need to complete the full training; just a few sessions are enough to roughly master these three abilities.

These three abilities are now so common in the Imperial Army that even a random political commissar could demonstrate a few tricks.

The fact that the political commissar led a group of astral soldiers who had mastered telekinesis to launch a telekinetic attack and blow the head off an orc warboss caused a series of unrest among the orcs, to the point that humans now automatically learn telekinesis when facing orcs.

Shermokh was stunned by Jeanne's words.
All living things instinctively fear the unknown, and even the soulless spirits of space are no exception.
His combat experience made him cautious. The Emperor took a step back, using his Phase Cloak to slip into a nearby pocket dimension, instantly creating several meters of distance between himself and Jeanne. Then—

Stab it! ! !

The sound of a spear piercing the air rang out suddenly. Jeanne and Sherman almost simultaneously teleported, and the spear in her hand stabbed directly at Sherman's head.

"You bastard!" Shemer was startled and hurriedly rolled up his phase cloak, pulled a fallen space necromancer corpse from the nearby ground, and used that living metal body to barely block Jeanne's sudden attack.

Just like before, Jeanne's teleportation did not trigger a reaction from the anti-subspace force field.

However, Shermeh also had considerable knowledge of space and dimensional technology. He could easily determine that Jeanne's teleportation just now did not pass through the pocket dimension, but rather through some kind of more advanced and mysterious spatial technology that he could not see through or perceive.
Shemelhe managed to glimpse a bit of the mystery based on his understanding of the properties of space, but even that little bit almost caused his computing unit to crash due to high usage.

"Is this still the power of faith?" Shemehe couldn't help but open his mouth and ask.

“This is the power that Doraemon bestows upon humanity; it is, of course, the power of faith,” Jeanne replied in a tone that left no room for doubt.

They're really raised by fraudsters.
Shemohe cursed inwardly.
The countless years of technological accumulation by the space necromancers were replaced by a mere word of faith.

If that's the case, then why would any race in this universe bother with scientific research? Wouldn't it be more effective for everyone to just worship a god?
Shermokh wielded his war scythe and swiftly exchanged blows with Jeanne several times.

He didn't believe it was truly the power of faith. He had studied human history and speculated that it was actually a technological product of some golden age of humanity. This explanation was more palatable to Shermeh than the idea that it was the power of faith.
While it feels like admitting the Necromancers' spatial and dimensional technology is inferior to that of humans in the Golden Age, it's still better than relying on some powerful deity to surpass the Necromancers' long history of technological accumulation. But the Necromancers aren't just skilled in spatial and dimensional technology; they excel in many other areas as well.
Shemerhe took a small step back, and the world before him seemed to slow down instantly.

The dust in the air drifted down slowly, slowing Na's pace; the world seemed to be enveloped in a sticky, gelatinous substance.
The name of that gelatinous substance is time.
Space necromancers are masters of time and space; they can create devices called timers to allow themselves to operate slightly outside of time.
Everything in their eyes slows down in the viscous flow of time, and only they can move at a speed that transcends time.

Shermoher once again slipped into the pocket dimension, circling behind Jeanne. At this moment, Jeanne still appeared to him as slow as a snail.
The French emperor seemed to have already foreseen victory; he brandished his scythe and slashed at Jeanne from behind—

Jeanne suddenly turned her head with an astonishing speed, leaving a series of afterimages on the ripples of time. She smiled at Xie Mohe, as if Xie Mohe were the little worm that had fallen into the sticky time.
Shemerhe had lost his lungs 60 million years ago, but at this moment he actually felt a sense of suffocation.

Props: Crazy Clock.

This prop directly adjusts the time tassels around Jeanne, and its effect surpasses even the Space Necromancer's clock.

Jeanne thrust her spear toward Shemekh's chest.

But at that moment, a chilling killing intent suddenly rose from afar.

Hobian White Deer stood on a secluded hillside, a vantage point offering a clear view of the distant battle between the Saintess Jeanne and the Necromancer Emperor.

He had been here since the start of the battle, hiding himself thanks to the unique stealth skills of the Lytherins, waiting for the perfect moment to use the Ranger-style sniper rifle he had won from the Eldar Deathbringers to take down several Undead commanders.
But before he could even make a move, Saint Jeanne and the Emperor began a one-on-one duel of honor.

Thanks to this advantageous position and the magnification function of his mechanical eye, Hobion White Deer could clearly see the entire battle.
Based on Hobian White Deer's experience with the gladiatorial arena, the Saintess is undoubtedly on the verge of victory.

"What an easy task! Praise the Emperor, praise the Champion," Hobbian White Deer said with a smile.

Unlike others, Hobion White Deer still prefers to call Doraemon the champion.

Just then, Hobian White Deer's nose twitched slightly.
The Leytelins have a keen sense of smell, but this time Hobian didn't smell any particular odor.

Instead, it carried along with the smoke of battle a chilling, piercing, and insidious killing intent.
The killing intent seemed to come from another dimension, another space, so faint as to be almost imperceptible that Hobian almost wondered if he was just too old and hallucinating.

But his body still involuntarily tightened its grip on the sniper rifle.

The Eldar weapon's light, slender barrel, crafted from spirit bones, sent a chilling sensation through Hobien. This wondrous weapon could amplify the user's senses.

This perception is not merely limited to the five senses, but also includes a mysterious and profound feeling, a kind of...a guidance towards death.
When did Hobbian White Hound gain this perception?
It seems to have been after he competed with Zhou Yun in marksmanship? Or it seems to have been after half of his body was burned by the Tyrant's spore fog?
He himself forgot.

This feeling started out vague, but as time went on and Hobion killed more and more people, it became increasingly clear.
It is precisely through this mysterious and inexplicable feeling that Hobian can pull the trigger and snipe enemies without using his mechanical eye or any other senses.

It was as if a Grim Reaper had guided him to his destination.
With the amplification provided by the Ranger sniper rifle, Hobian White Deer's senses were heightened once again. He raised the gun almost without hesitation, pointing the slender muzzle in the direction death was pointing.

Suddenly, the image of Zhou Yun competing with him in marksmanship back in Asford flashed into his mind.

Many people know this story, and many members of the Celestial Army can recount Zhou Yun's tale. Hobion, as a supporting character in that story, seems insignificant.
Hobian spent his entire life learning his incredible marksmanship.
All those lessons, imitations, and training seemed to flood Hobien's mind in an instant.

He felt as if he had become the training bullet that Zhou Yun fired years ago, launched from the past into this moment.
In an instant, Hobian realized what was happening.

He was a bullet in the hand of death, unwittingly imbued with the power of death, destined to be fired at some point.

Hobian White Deer pulled the trigger, and the Eldar's energy needles shot through the air.

In the distance, where Hobien was aiming, the head of a Death Mark peeked out from the pocket dimension.

(End of this chapter)