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

Chapter 655 Abaddon: I'm so strong!

Looking at that pitch-black hellbeast, Fugen felt his mind go blank for a moment.
Abaddon?
Is that Abaddon, the Chaos Warmaster?
How did he become like this?
Who did this? How could they be so cruel?

Although Abaddon was a bit weak, a bit incompetent, a bit undeserving of his position, and a bit of a liability to his teammates, he was still the undisputed leader of the entire Chaos Astartes and the commander of a million-strong rebel army. How could he have ended up being stuffed into a hell beast?
"Nephew! Who turned you into this?!"

"Tell your uncle! Your uncle will avenge you!"

Fugan shouted at Abaddon,
These were his involuntary words, a deliberate provocation mimicking Zhou Yun's speaking style.

Fu Gen had previously discovered that Zhou Yun's way of speaking was quite effective at provoking and enraging the enemy.
Hell Beasts themselves suffer unimaginable pain and are more easily provoked, losing their minds.

Abaddon let out a sharp battle cry mixed with pain.
Fugen bears at least half the responsibility for his miserable state.

It was he who tortured Abaddon into such a miserable state that Abaddon was forcibly stuffed into the hell beast by Vashtor, thus plunging him into this endless hell of torment.
He had been unable to control his hatred after seeing Fugen, interrupting the corrupting influence of the ecstatic perception demon "Poppy" residing in his body on Fugen.
The old-fashioned machine gun hanging on Abaddon's left hand was lowered slightly, and the corner of the eight-pointed star symbolizing the realm of malevolent arts lit up. Orange-yellow bullets instantly transformed into a dense rain of bullets, shooting towards Fugen and the Imperial Sons following closely behind him.
Those bullets were exceptionally small compared to the grenades, but they carried a strange killing power. The cursed sons of the emperor who were closest to Abaddon were unable to dodge them, and half of their bodies were torn apart the moment they were grazed by the bullets.

The demon "Maxim," a product of vicious technology, was born from the carnage caused by humanity's first truly automated weapon. Humanity's fear of the Maxim and automated weapons gave birth to it. It symbolizes humanity's advancement in the art of self-destruction, reaching a more efficient and industrialized level, yet possessing a natural restraint towards large numbers of humans.
The more humans stand before "Maxim," the more powerful this demon's killing skills become.

When Vashtor forged Abaddon, his goal was to make it a weapon against humanity. The eight demons he infused into Abaddon were all closely related to humans, each possessing a certain degree of power over them.

The "poppy" that almost dragged Fugen into pleasure and ecstasy is the same. Born from one of the most famous neurotoxins in human history, it naturally spreads pleasure in the human nervous system, stirs up hallucinations, and empties the body.
At that very moment, a figure almost cast in pure gold stepped out from the battle formation, brandishing twin swords as he charged into the dense hail of bullets.
The bright yellow bullets were deflected by the net woven by the two swords, and the swordsman actually managed to tear a gash in the hail of bullets from the Maxim gun using only his swordsmanship.
Maxim's restraint towards humanity was directed at groups; when facing an individual, his restraint became much weaker.
Akulduna hadn't realized this; he simply charged out driven by fighting spirit, without considering anything else.
But Fugen's superhuman intellect allowed him to perceive this, and he quickly issued orders for the surrounding Cursed Astartes to disperse and break into smaller groups.
He then shifted his stance slightly, wielding the Forgebreaker Warhammer, and launched an attack towards Abaddon's right flank.
Abaddon suddenly raised his right hand, and the corner symbolizing his lack of intent to kill lit up with a blood-red light.

A biting wind swept across the land, withering the vegetation and leaving everything desolate. The starving herders raised their eyes, their gazes filled with a bloodthirsty glint, as they looked towards the rich, warm land to the south.

This bloodthirsty killing intent ultimately coalesced into an arrow, aimed at Fugen's brow.

Those were the demons of the realm of mindless slaughter, the "Huns," born from the long history of hatred and carnage between nomads and farmers, barbarians and civilizations.

Whenever the weather turns bitterly cold, rainfall decreases, and vegetation withers, nomadic peoples will inevitably ride south in search of survival.

The more one is in danger of survival, and the more civilized and prosperous the opponent one is targeting, the more powerful the arrow formed from killing intent will be inflicted on others.

As a clone of the Primarch of the Emperor's Son, Fuggen was clearly within the range of this arrow's effectiveness.

Yin Hong's arrow shot towards Fu Gen's brow, accompanied by the incessant sound of galloping hooves.
But the arrow missed its mark; the arrow that should have struck Fugen's brow missed its target.
In the blink of an eye, Fugen's figure appeared behind the arrow.

This isn't any special ability; it's just a common skill that many members of the Astral Army possess.

Instant teleportation, one of the three abilities from Zhou Yun's superpower training kit.
Fugen had mastered teleportation, telekinesis, and clairvoyance to a perfect degree.

Just before the arrow struck him, Fuggen teleported behind the arrow, narrowly avoiding Abaddon's attack.

Fugan leaped forward, his heavy hammer slamming into Abaddon's right arm.

The part of Abaddon that symbolized erosion and destruction suddenly lit up, and the cries of ten million people being murdered echoed in Fulgrim's ears.

The Demon Sword Delanicorn appeared in Abaddon's hand, automatically adapting to the size of the Hellbeast.
The faces on the sword suddenly opened their eyes and stared intently at Fugen.

"What foolish things are you doing! The Lord of Humanity is about to go mad! He was so close to becoming the Lord of Darkness!"

Delanick has been slacking off, sleeping, and enjoying Abaddon's ridiculous screams these days.
But today, this demon, born from humanity's first murder, is horrified to discover that the form of its erosion and destruction is becoming increasingly clear.
The burden on the Emperor's shoulders nearly doubled, almost causing him to ascend directly to the Dark Lord. Fortunately, he held on at the last moment.

The demons, both born and yet to be born, within the realm of erosion and destruction were cheering, but Delanicohn felt only a chill in his heart.
Once the Lord of Darkness is born, he will unleash an unstoppable destruction upon everything, including corrupting and destroying the demons within his domain.

If it were Delanick from 10,000 years ago, he might have cheered for this, but the current Delanick just feels like he's going crazy.
Ten thousand years ago, the Emperor captured Delanicorn by trading his own injuries, then sealed him away and shaped him into this demonic sword, imprisoning him within the Imperial Guard, La Endymion.

Prior to this, the Emperor implanted his past life into La Endymion's body, weaving an excessive amount of humanity into it. That humanity and La Endymion's memories influenced and shaped Delanicorn, making it more like a person, and making it impossible for it to ever accept returning to pure erosion and destruction, and to unleash its full power.

Delanicohn did not hate the Emperor for this; on the contrary, he was even somewhat grateful to the Emperor. He felt the joy and ease of being a human being. Therefore, when he realized that the Emperor had almost ascended to heaven, Delanicohn became furious.

"What are you all doing, acting so stupidly!" Delanicorn demanded, his power suddenly surging, startling even Abaddon, who was suffering terribly inside the Hellbeast.
The power Delanicorn unleashed at this moment surpassed any moment in his memory.
Delanickon, so powerful?
In a daze, Fugen seemed to be standing in a wheat field, and Delanickon transformed into a sharp obsidian dagger, irresistibly piercing towards him.

Fugan hurriedly raised the Brokensmith's Warhammer in his hand to defend, but Delanicohn seemed to carry the weight of all the murders in human history, pressing down on Fugan, causing Fugan's knees to buckle and his body to bend, almost kneeling on one knee. He barely managed to hold on by gripping the Brokensmith's Warhammer tightly with both hands.

Abaddon was somewhat stunned to see Fulgrim pinned under his sword; he had previously suffered a crushing defeat at Fulgrim's hands.
Is he really that powerful now?!
Abaddon, amidst his boundless suffering, surprisingly felt a sliver of pleasure.

At that very moment, Akulduna transformed into a swift shadow and rushed towards Fugen's direction.

A flicker of disdain rose in Abaddon's heart. Even though the Primarch clones had fallen to his hand, what chance did a mere, dead Astartes have?
He suddenly raised the Claw of Horus embedded in his left hand and swung it down at Akulduna.

But Akulduna's reaction speed exceeded Abaddon's expectations; this Astartes' reaction speed and agility far surpassed those of almost any Astartes Abaddon had ever seen.
In terms of speed alone, he was faster than both Kahn and Sigismund, only slightly inferior in strength.
Akulduna leaped up, kicking Abaddon's coffin lid, and used the momentum to jump onto Abaddon's right arm. He clashed his two swords into a net and slashed at Abaddon's arm, but only managed to leave a series of shallow cuts.

Products from Vashtor are known for their reliable quality.

A phase sword shimmering with emerald light thrust out. This sharp necromancer weapon, relying on phase technology, bypassed Abaddon's thick armor and pierced into its internal structure.

Just as Abaddon's attention was drawn to Akulduna, Thor, using the effect of the Blind Spot Star, silently circled around to Abaddon's side and used the Phase Blade given to him by Zandreek to damage the arm holding the cursed sword Draenecoon.

Abaddon's arm went out of control instantly, swinging uncontrollably to the side.
"Useless!" Delanico cursed, attempting to use his psychic power to take over Abaddon's arm.

But Fugan seized the opportunity, swinging his hammer at Abaddon's arm.

Akulduna quickly leaped up to dodge, and Abaddon's power arm, which was gripping Delanicohn tightly, instantly twisted and deformed into a pretzel-like shape.

"Use this sword!" Thor roared, tossing the Phase Court Sword in his hand to Akulduna, while he himself flicked his fingers and grasped the stabbing sword out of thin air.

Abakulduna dropped a sword, took the Phase Palace Sword, and, together with Thor and Fugen, attacked from three directions simultaneously, stabbing at the coffin lid of Abaddon's torso.

But just then, a sticky, wriggling sound rang in the ears of all three simultaneously, sending chills down their spines.

A strange, fishy stench suddenly welled up in Fugen's throat, making him feel vaguely nauseous and dizzy. Everything before his eyes seemed to diffuse like ink painting soaked in water, turning into swirling, twisting, and sinister colors.

The colors were dancing, the relative positions of everything were shifting, sometimes here, sometimes there. Fugen felt as if his feet were treading on unpredictable mud, his head submerged in a bizarre sea reflecting the stars; everything exceeded the limits of what reason could contain.

Things ignored by the mind's self-protective mechanisms began to surface in Fugen's eyes, screaming and tearing at his soul. Fugen's reason was like a thin bubble churning and churning in a roaring wave until it was about to disappear completely.
On Abaddon's body, the part symbolizing uncertainty and distortion was emitting a nauseating, sticky light, like octopus slime reflecting in the moonlight, like the flickering of billions of orbs of light, like the dreamlike light of a fool.
Abaddon didn't know what the demon residing within him was.
He did not belong to the realm of the Blood God; he had no murderous intent towards the masses, only indifference and detachment, because the masses were irrelevant to him.
He no longer belonged to the realm of Slaanesh; he possessed no indescribable hunger, only a primal pulse.
He does not belong to Nurgle's realm; his existence is unrelated to life. Whether life exists or not, he is there.

He does not belong to the realm of the cunning and the extraordinary; being without form means being without shape, indescribable and ineffable. Without shape, there is naturally no change.

He is unrelated to erosion and destruction, because even his existence is difficult to define, and he has no impulse to destroy.
He has nothing to do with malicious arts, because he is not a creation of knowledge; he is the unknowable, the antithesis of knowledge.
He has nothing to do with the dissolution of greed, because he has no concept of hunger at all; he is some kind of more abstract being.

He came from an infinitely distorted realm, born in a vibrant era following a technological explosion in human civilization.
In that era, people believed in the omnipotence of human power, that humanity could know all knowledge, and that technology could transform the entire world. But in that very era, in the dark and damp under the light, the seeds of the unknown were conceived.
Some texts subtly imagine those indescribable beings in the universe, depicting the absolute unknowable and indescribable, and painting a picture of the fear called the unknown.
That demon is the embodiment of human agnosticism, an existence born from humanity's fear of the unknown.

His power is very special; he can't cause much effective damage to the human body, but he can severely damage a person's sanity.

Abaddon raised the Claw of Horus in his left hand, ready to smash it down on Fuggen in front of him.
"Abaddon!"

A voice suddenly rang out behind Abaddon, causing him to stiffen abruptly.
The voice sounded incredibly familiar to Abaddon, awakening an instinct deep within his genes and causing him to freeze in place.

"Son, what happened to you? Why are you like this?"

Why are you still repeating my mistakes?

(End of this chapter)