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

Chapter 657 Fugen: He wouldn't have stuffed a molten grenade into Feralas' head and thrown it at me, would he?
Ryan stared blankly at the unfinished female robot hanging on the kite shield in his hand, not understanding what was going on.
Indeed, such a custom exists in the empire today: the Astartes would embed the remains of saints and the bones of victims into their shields, hoping that the great souls who sacrificed themselves for the emperor would protect them and enhance the shields' defensive capabilities.
But the shield in Ryan's hands was the Emperor's Shield, imbued with the immortal power of the Emperor and flowing with divine spiritual energy. No skeleton in this world was worthy of this shield.
Ryan didn't believe that hanging a skull on his shield would stop Perturabo's artillery fire.

Moreover, this isn't some sacred relic; it's just a half-finished female robot, and we don't even know what it's for.
But when Perturabo saw the unfinished female robot hanging on the shield, the massive body of the Iron Lord suddenly stiffened, as if his mind had been greatly shocked.

".Califon".

Peturabo's voice was short and strained, filled with anger, pain, and disbelief.

He was utterly shattered by the malice revealed in the actions of that mini-Dora.

"How dare you! Ryan! How dare you!!!"

"I kill you!!!"

Perturabo roared, and all his weapons simultaneously changed direction, no longer suppressing Fugen and the cursed sons of the emperor, but instead all aimed at Ryan.

Bombs, explosive arrows, subatomic projectiles, laser weapons, plasma weapons, and thermal weapons—each dangerous and deadly weapon embodies the wisdom and creativity of Perturabo over millennia, capable of easily crushing a knight, dissolving a fearless warrior, or annihilating a group of Astartes.

Ryan's fighting instincts took control of his body, and he swiftly raised the Emperor's Shield, from which the unfinished robot was attached.
On the shield, the body of the unfinished female robot repeatedly collided with the shield surface, making a clanging sound incessantly.

"."

Perturabo aimed his weapon at Ryan, but did not fire for a long time; the Iron Lord's heavy breathing was clearly audible.

"you!"

"I!"

"what!!!"

Peturabo roared angrily, simultaneously moving his weapons away.

Ryan blinked slightly, glanced at Peturabo, then at the unfinished female robot on his shield.

"Ok?"

"Um"

"Ok!"

"Oh!"

His superhuman brain worked at lightning speed. Realizing that Perturabo was unwilling to harm the unfinished female android on his shield, a smile crept onto Ryan's lips.
"I see, I see." Ryan was filled with respect.

He immediately took a step forward, strolling through the woods, and then appeared before Perturab in the blink of an eye, shield in one hand and sword in the other, launching an attack.
Perturabo growled, his anger driving him to swing his fist at Ryan.
But just as he threw his punch, Ryan raised his shield, exposing the female android's face directly to Perturabo, her bionic eyes staring blankly at him.
Peturabo's fist stopped in place.

Ryan grinned, his blade slicing a deadly arc as he tore off four fingers from Perturabo's heavy metal fist, exposing the broken wires inside.

Perturabo grunted, his figure flashing as he instantly appeared behind Ryan, his weapon aimed at Ryan's back.
However, Perturabo was not a Primarch known for his martial prowess, and his reaction speed was much slower than Llane's.

Before he fired, Ryan turned around and held the Emperor's Shield in front of him.

Peturabo let out a low growl that was a mixture of pain, anxiety, helplessness, and rage.

"Isn't it supposed to be steel inside and out?" Ryan asked with a sneer.

Peturabo was filled with shame and indignation; he had to admit that he had truly broken down.

The breach stemmed from Peturabo's realization of his own incompetence.

That unfinished female robot was his unfinished "older sister," his newest and closest to perfection creation, but it had been stolen by the Blood Raven Legion.
In other words, this unfinished robot was practically his sister, yet now it was being wantonly played with and humiliated by Ryan.
Perturabo, the incompetent younger brother, could only stand there in shame and anger, watching as Ryan waved her around and toyed with her, but Perturabo didn't even dare to fire a shot.

The greater sense of powerlessness lies in Peturabo's realization that the sordidness within him has been exploited by the other party.
It wasn't that he was afraid to destroy the unfinished female robot, nor that he couldn't.
Even if they were finished products, who knows how many would have been wasted in his hands.

Each time, the female robots failed to satisfy Peturabo.

If the female androids were to condemn him after gaining consciousness, Peturabo would be enraged, because his sister loved him, so how could she condemn him? He would then destroy the android.

If the female robots flattered him after gaining consciousness, Perturabo would be enraged, because his sister was not one to fawn and would never do so; he would destroy the robot.
Over ten thousand years, Perturabo's skills honed to perfection, allowing him to create robots that were identical to the deceased at will. Each time Perturabo created "Sister," he believed he would succeed, but he simply could not create a sister who satisfied him.
In other words, if Ryan's shield were to be bound with either the "sister" destroyed by Perturabo or a complete, talking sister, Perturabo would not hesitate to declare it fake or inferior and then destroy it.

But the robot before them was the culmination of Peturabo's latest technology, and still a work in progress. No one knew whether the completed robot would be his sister, and Peturabo couldn't claim she wasn't.

He couldn't bring himself to do it. Not because of his love for his sister, but because he couldn't bring himself to admit he didn't love her. Powerlessness, anger, and resentment swirled within Perturab, leaving him only able to passively endure being beaten by Ryan.
But to be honest, being beaten like this actually gave Peturabo a strange sense of pleasure.

He endured suffering without complaint or regret for his love for his sister. This sense of sacrifice made him feel good about himself and satisfied his inner martyr complex.
He even began to unconsciously and willingly take more of Ryan's attacks.

But soon, Peturabo became annoyed.
His superhuman intellect made him realize that his emotional outburst was also anticipated by the other party, and that he had been used by them.
The feeling of having his inner depravity exposed made Peturabo's emotions increasingly twisted and difficult to understand, and his behavior became increasingly irrational.

Fugen felt a chill run down his spine as he watched this scene.

Fougen himself was a natural-born diplomat and a master at manipulating others' psychology. He could vaguely discern some of Peturabo's inner thoughts from his increasingly contradictory behavior.

Zhou Yun's control and manipulation of Peturabo's psychology was so vicious that it sent chills down Fogen's spine.
Fugen even imagined that if he became enemies with Zhou Yun in the future, the other party might silently pull out a Felus head from his pocket and throw it at him, and might even stuff a molten grenade inside Felus's head.
Fugen shuddered and dared not think about it anymore.

He wasted no time. Taking advantage of the moment when Ryan suppressed Perturabo, he led the Cursed Prince and the Angels of Forgiveness, following behind Mini-Dora, and charged towards the core of Dragon Forest Star.

He swiftly destroyed several demon engines, and as he advanced, Fugen gradually noticed that the number of mini-Dorae around him was increasing.
These miniature Doraemons used all sorts of strange gadgets to help them pave their way.

This means that Zhou Yun is consuming more and more of the Soul Furnace.

But at the same time, the sky above Longlin Star was also constantly changing.

The area around this ancient artifact grew increasingly deep and dark, occasionally flashing with light like sparks from an internal combustion engine. Fugen could also faintly hear whispers coming from the nearby subspace.
Those murmurs, filled with madness, extremism, and unrestrained wisdom, wove a series of illusions before Fugen.
He witnessed creativity bursting forth from countless minds, the wisdom once used to transform the world and benefit the stars being forced to forge weapons. More and more dangerous and powerful weapons were born in the rumbling factories, quickly put into use on the battlefield, and ultimately, just as quickly surpassed by the enemy.
Thus, more wisdom was unleashed, and creativity became increasingly unrestrained. Their weapons surpassed those of their enemies, only to be surpassed in turn, in a vicious cycle. The power of their weapons grew ever stronger, but so did their morality, their control, and their disregard for consequences.
The stars are being burned, galaxies are being consumed by the burning energy-based divine weapons and deadly armor. More and more cruel decisions are being made, all to save as many lives as possible.
As Fugen looked at these scenes, he gradually felt a chill run down his spine.
A long-standing question was thus answered before Fugen's very eyes.
What remains beyond the Milky Way?
The answer is that only a desolate, scorched wasteland remains.
In that war known as the War of Heaven, the burning of stars was not a metaphor.
The ancient sages suffered repeated defeats in their war against the star gods because they always retained a shred of morality and reason, refusing to fully unleash their terrifying creativity and lacking sufficient malice.
Time and again they chose to save the majority of lives, but the end result was ever-increasing sacrifices, more arduous warfare, and morality became their mistake.
Ultimately, the Ancient Saints were forced to retreat back to the Milky Way, their last stronghold. Within this stronghold, some of the Ancient Saints finally abandoned all morality.
“Father?” Saul’s voice rang in Fugen’s ears.

Fugen shuddered and suddenly woke up, only to realize that he had almost been caught in the interference of the subspace forces around him.

“Your warp resistance is a bit weak,” Akulduna said sincerely.

Although Akulduna's words were sincere, they also evoked a strange bitterness in Fugen's heart.

His steps halted at that moment, for before him stood a fortress on the steel-clad landscape.
It was a fortress made of metal, full of spires and intersecting walls, like a fusion of the Middle Ages and blasphemous technology.

“Saint Groot. Is this Saint Groot?” Zabril, the leader of the Archangels of Forgiveness who was following Fugen, suddenly spoke up and asked the Archangel of Forgiveness beside him in a low voice.

“It is indeed Saint Groot, Blood Mountain, the fortress of the Sirius Knights,” said an old Angel of Mercy warrior who was born and raised in Caliban and even participated in the conquest of the giant beasts.

Fugen cast a questioning look at him.

"This is the headquarters of the Sirius Knights." Zabril hesitated for a moment, then explained, "Before the Emperor arrived in Caliban, the Sirius Knights and the Order of Order led by Ryan were sworn enemies."

"The lion launched a war called the Conquest of the Beasts, in an attempt to kill all the beasts on Caliban."

"But the Sirius Knights believe that the behemoth shaped the Caliban Knights, their culture, traditions and everything. Ryan's destruction of the behemoth is the destruction of Caliban."

"But in the end, Ryan defeated the Sirius Knights and destroyed them."

Fugen turned his head away, knowing that Zabril was still hiding something; his violet eyes seemed to have a captivating power.

Zabril hesitated for a moment, then said in a slightly gruff voice, "The Sirius Knights have preserved a vast amount of knowledge and texts about chaos and the warp, and the amount of knowledge they possess is completely unreasonable. Furthermore, the knowledge possessed by the followers of the Four Gods in the galaxy is entirely different."

"Luther secretly preserved some of this knowledge and read and used it."

“I know.” Fugen understood the implication in Zabril’s words: “With those powers, Luther could even rival Ryan. Do you consider that the knowledge of the Old Ones?”

"It's quite possible. Now that I think about it, if Caliban is indeed the ancient artifact Ouroboros, then the behemoths and the culture and society they shaped are also part of Caliban. The Sirius Knights, who protect these things, might be the spokespeople for Caliban's will." Zabril felt a tightness in his throat.

As a dark angel, he wasn't good at sharing the Legion's secrets, but he shared them only because Ryan had warned them of the importance of this battle and for the sake of the bigger picture.

Fugen nodded slightly and gestured, indicating that the Cursed Prince and the Angel of Pardon should form an array, gather their power, and step into the fortress.

The fortress was not dark; the orange glow of the hearth fire replaced the rustic chandeliers hanging within.
Fugen and his companions encountered almost no obstacles on their way into the castle and entered the castle hall smoothly.
In the castle's hall stood the corpse of a child, and beside the corpse...
A young knight slowly turned his head, looking at Fugen and then at Zabril.
The knight was extremely tall, even reaching Fugen's height. He wasn't wearing power armor, only a winged helmet and heavy metal armor. He held a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, and his gloomy eyes, hidden beneath the helmet, quickly swept over everyone present.

Everyone felt as if they had been glanced at by a lion.

Fugen's throat suddenly tightened. Akulduna, who was beside him, stepped forward, about to make a move, but Fugen stopped him with a gesture.
Fugen generally wouldn't stop Akulduna, because Akulduna's strength was enough to defeat almost any enemy; letting him freely wield those two swords was the best tactic.

But... that knight was different.
"How could this be?" Zabril's eyes widened, he gasped, and a chill ran down his spine. The angels behind him froze in place.

The knight remained silent, but reached out and slowly removed the winged helmet from his head, exposing his golden hair to the air, followed by his brooding, lion-like eyes and a face.
A young face.

(End of this chapter)