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

Chapter 662 So be it, I'll just become a god.

It felt like thick engine oil had soaked through his entire body, like the diffused scent of incense had wafted through every pore, like sweet bacteria that had dissolved leaves to form juice had crawled all over him, like he had fallen into a starry sea made of fragrant dorayaki, like burning inspiration and creativity had replaced every cell in his flesh and blood.
If you were to observe more closely, you would realize that what surrounds Zhou Yun is emotion, faith, and resonance.

The joy of a sudden burst of inspiration, a strong thirst for knowledge, the urge to innovate, a spark of curiosity, and even a touch of malicious creativity—these emotions weave together to form the core.
The devout faith in Doraemon, the hymns echoing in countless churches, the fervent binary prayers of the Mechanical Order—these faiths have become flesh.

The crisp sound of the first ape striking flint, the roar of the first gunpowder exploding in the alchemy furnace, the deafening explosion of the atomic bomb—these echoes turned to blood.

Zhou Yun felt himself stretched out in this moment, so long that He existed in every moment from the past to the present, in every instant of inspiration, in every moment of the birth of a new invention.
He stood in a desolate wilderness, feeling the sand scrape against his ankles, watching an ape crawl on the ground, digging a pebble from the earth with its hairy fingers.
The ape's fingers turned over the pebble, observing its perfectly shaped sharp points, and a glimmer of inspiration began to spark in his deep-set, moist eyes.

He slowly raised another stone beside him, ready to smash it down on the gravel.
But at that very moment, a somber, hoarse curse, woven in a primitive language, suddenly resounded—

The sharp spear pierced Slaanesh's chest, and blood, purple and pink, flowed from the body of this thirsty lord.

That war spear was a reflection of an ancient war in the warp, a manifestation of the war between the Eldar, who had just ended the War of Heaven, and the dragon-nations that had come against time. It was one of the Blood God's most treasured possessions.

During that war, the Eldar predicted the future, while the Dragonflight repeatedly traveled through time to attack the Eldar from the past. This war lance naturally acquired the same effect.

It can awaken some traumas from the past.
Slaanesh let out an unbearable scream, and the twin swords formed from his hair slipped from his fingertips, disintegrating into the warp.

Terrified faces appeared on Slaanesh's abdomen, chest, back, and arms.
The flames of Asuyan burned half of Slaanesh's body red; the old goddess's screams caused her skin to wrinkle; Hawk the Wanderer tried to escape Slaanesh's body; and Val gazed enviously at the malevolent realm of arts high above.
Those Eldar gods who had been swallowed by Slaanesh but never truly digested were awakened from their past and began to rebel against Slaanesh.
Slaanesh's eyes trembled; he never imagined the Blood God would act so decisively and with such ruthlessness.
Without a doubt, the Blood God's shot was aimed at killing him completely.
This madman! This madman actually wants to seize the opportunity presented by Zhou Yun's incomplete ascension, to crush Inard, and to allow Slaanesh to become fully complete, so he can kill Slaanesh in one battle and add a god's skull to his throne.

This madman is definitely out of his mind. Was it really necessary to escalate things to this point?
After Zhou Yun ascends to immortality, Slaanesh can become their ally. Killing Slaanesh here would be a losing proposition!

However, the God of Blood didn't care about any of that.
The gains and losses of war were never his concern; he only cared about the crimson stain and the skulls that were the spoils of victory.

On the contrary, Khorne believed that Slaanesh was not pure enough, not thorough enough, and not perfect enough.
Isn't the honor and thrill of fighting a common part of their respective fields?
Why would Slaanesh care about such trivial benefits instead of enjoying the fulfillment that comes from fighting?
The frail young goddess was to be taught the meaning of battle by the Blood God.
The God of Blood roared in unison, and his iron cavalry surged like a tidal wave towards Slaanesh's territory. Even Forgrim could not suppress such a massive army single-handedly.

At this moment, Khorne once again reached for the layers upon layers of weapons piled on his throne.

He drew the very sword that had given birth to his war, the sword that had consumed countless stars and burned the entire cosmos, the great bronze sword that pierced the heavens.

That's "Battle of Heaven".
Blood God sat atop his brass throne, raising his greatsword high, aiming at Slaanesh, who was pierced by a spear and pinned to the highest heavens.
Today, He will sever the head of another god.

The buzzing of flies echoed throughout the warp, and enormous flies gathered into a swarm, rising from Nurgle's domain and rushing towards the Blood God's domain.

The figure of the benevolent father emerged from among the flies that loomed like a dark cloud over the city. This corrupt, festering, swollen deity chanted a series of sticky incantations as the cauldron before him tipped over, sprinkling blood upon the army of the Blood God.

The Blood God roared in fury, and his greatsword crashed down, carrying with it boundless flames of war as it hurtled towards Naurge.
Nurgle raised his hand, and a large bell covered in patina appeared in his palm. The bell tolled seven times, as if playing a symphony for the world's inevitable decay, forcefully blocking the Blood God's terrifying sword strike.

A sharp chanting voice rang out at that moment, and an ever-changing vortex swirled and crashed into Nurgle. Lightning, crystals, and flames clashed with the ever-shifting spells and the cloud of flies surrounding Nurgle.
Cracks began to appear on the cauldron before the benevolent father and the large bell in his hand, and the plague god inwardly groaned in despair.
He had not expected that Slaanesh would be so severely wounded and nearly killed by Khorne, who was paralyzed on the brass throne and could never leave it for eternity.

If Slaanesh were to be killed, the Father alone would be unable to fight against both Khorne and Tzeentch at the same time. He would have no choice but to charge forward and temporarily withstand the attacks of Khorne and Tzeentch on his own, giving Slaanesh a chance to heal.

At that very moment, a soft sound of footsteps rang out, and a pale, weak, and emaciated yet beautiful woman slowly emerged from the Garden of Nurgle. Her footsteps trod upon the highest heavens, and instantly, delicate, pale lilies bloomed, spreading all the way to Slaanesh's side.

The goddess gently placed her fingers on Slaanesh's body, pierced by the spear, healing him. The twisted faces on Slaanesh's body cursed the goddess.

“For the sake of our children,” the goddess said weakly and helplessly.

Khorne also let out an angry war cry, not because Nurgle had blocked his way, but because of Tzeentch.

Upon seeing Slaanesh severely injured and Nurgle suppressed, Tzeentch did not hesitate to draw upon at least a third of his own power, extending it into the realm of malevolent arts.
Khorne wanted to remove Slaanesh's skull, but Tzeentch was more concerned with his grand plan; he didn't want Zhou Yun to succeed in his ascension.
His power began to extend to every corner of time and space.
A somber, hoarse curse, woven in a primitive language, suddenly echoed across the gravelly earth. The primitive shaman cursed the ape who had just begun to experience inspiration.
The ape let out a sharp howl, clutching its suddenly throbbing head and groaning in agony on the ground.
The primitive wizard cackled, delighted that he had interrupted the progress of technology.
But as the obsidian axe blade cleaved down, the wizard's head slammed to the ground.
The ape roared with joy, a new idea bursting into his mind. He struck flint into a blade, which he then wielded as an axe.

The tribe's shamans roared in fury, brandishing their staffs laden with the skulls of wild beasts, summoning lightning, storms, and rain to engulf the apes who had just created their axe blades.
The craftsmen stretched out their rough hands, pulled newly forged bronze swords from the roaring furnace fire in the rainy night, and brandished them at the rain-seeking shaman.

The shaman danced an incomprehensible dance, sparks flying from his hands as he burned the warrior wielding the bronze sword.
Amidst the resounding hammer blows and the crunching of leather, the rider leaped from the steppe, swaggered onto the saddle, stepped into the stirrups, and charged towards the shamans in the forest.
The mages held aloft crystal balls, the light of stars shimmering within them, but gunpowder from the alchemy furnace spewed out, propelling the steel cannons to tear apart the newly woven spell.

The steam locomotives hummed and surged along the railway like a tidal wave, faster than the mages flying high in the sky.

The dazzling crystals refracted ever-changing light, shooting towards the fighter jets that had just taken to the skies, tearing apart humanity's attempts to fly.
But the rocket, unconstrained by the earth, shattered the clouds and soared into the boundless void. Turning back, the gods were no longer visible in the sky. Thus, a torrent of psychic energy was unleashed in the hands of the alien race, crushing the rocket that had just ascended into the void.

But in the blink of an eye, the rocket transformed into a void ship, and the light spears and macro cannons collided with the psionic barrier.
From the earliest days of technological emergence to the future where stars shine brightly,

From the first bone club thrown into the void by the ape, to the void ship tearing through the void...

Tzeentch's tentacles were colliding, fighting, and killing against Zhou Yun's power.

Tzeentch orchestrated a series of coincidences, causing a garbage mountain in Asford to tilt and collapse, burying Zhou Yun, who had just transmigrated, beneath the trash.
Zhou Yun conjured up an idea, which led Lag to a sudden flash of inspiration and plunge into the garbage mountain in search of treasure, digging Zhou Yun, who had just transmigrated, out of the garbage mountain.

Tzeentch manipulated the odds, exposing young Reina's whereabouts to the Governor's psionic hunting force.

Zhou Yun controlled the machinery, causing a factory boiler to malfunction and destroy the pipes, thus covering up Lena's whereabouts.

Tzeentch cultivated followers, concealing corruption within numbers, which silently entwined itself around Zhou Yun's body.
Zhou Yun awakened his true nature, allowing his past self to spark inspiration, and he promptly stuffed the notebook into his pocket and sold it.
Tzeentch's machinations led the cunning individuals beneath Asford to inadvertently breed the Tyrannosaurus Screamer.
Zhou Yun summoned his gaze, injecting a fleeting inspiration into the Emperor's mind, making him aware of Zhou Yun on Asford.

Tzeentch used tricks to make the Blood God more aware of the fluctuations of Saint Gilles' resurrection on Baal, and thus he poured more power into the matter.
Zhou Yun adjusted the props so that his past self would encounter Chagatai Khan during his first visit to the Anywhere Door, thus attracting the help of a Primarch.
The two sides continued to clash at different times.
But what puzzled Jianqi was that every action he took seemed to be anticipated by Zhou Yun, and each time Zhou Yun thwarted him at just the right moment.
How could he possibly be better at planning than Tzeentch, the master of all schemes?
For a moment, even Tzeentch began to doubt: Was Zhou Yun seeking the position of Hellstorm? Was he himself an imposter?
At that very moment, a sharp, maniacal laugh echoed through the warp.
Slaanesh's pale hair billowed, a cold smile playing on his lips; the wound on his chest had already healed.

Nurgle clutched his stomach and burst into laughter. At that moment, Mortarion arrived, his moth wings trembling, carrying the severed head of Seed of Destruction.

In the real universe, Magnus's body was pierced by the sharp Sword of Loyalty, and his brow was pierced by the teardrop-shaped Spear of Bigong. This Primarch, whose entire body was trained into muscles, also fell to the combined attack of Sangilius and Llane.
Tzeentch cursed angrily, forced to divert his attention from Zhou Yun to fight off the increasingly fierce attacks of Nurgle and Slaanesh.

The tides surged within the warp, yet the realm of malevolent arts remained calm at this moment.
It was as if all the trends, tendencies, and emotions that were originally surging within it had converged into one existence.
Zhou Yun slightly raised his head, his gaze falling to his lower body, where three different yet intertwined domains intertwined.

The first kind of emotion is impersonal, yet it permeates every machine and every living being; it is the primal driving force behind the operation of all things.
The second realm is closer to the material world. All mechanical operations and the existence of all laws in the material universe are under His supervision; He is the Om Messiah walking among humans.

The third is a more abstract realm, the inspiration that springs forth from the human heart, the living being's understanding of the universe, the burgeoning thirst for knowledge and the desire to create, the ethereal and mysterious god of all things.
But, in the end, they are all Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun raised his head again, gazing into the distance. He found his body stretched out, like a giant dragon traversing time, with every moment of the past gathered within him.
He saw his past self repeatedly comprehending and accepting its subspace essence; in reality, he was simply seeing more of his future self in the past, and perceiving a glimpse of his own nature that transcended the limitations of space and time.

Within this long lineage, there are two other branches: Om Messiah - the Martian Dragon and Vashtor, the God of Machines.

Everything they had done, everything they had acted upon, their very existence had been replaced by Zhou Yun. They were Zhou Yun in the past, and they are Zhou Yun now.

Zhou Yun looked towards the future again, and in the hazy distance, he saw two other enormous shadows waiting for him, though they were not yet fully formed.
Zhou Yun exhaled softly. The three domains beneath him began to overlap, merge, and dissolve, eventually melting into the entire domain of vicious techniques.
In an instant, a sharp mechanical sound resounded throughout the highest heavens and even the entire real universe.

"All living beings with souls should heed my words."

"I, Doraemon, was born in the 22nd century and originated in the Nest City."

"Many beings in the world like to call me a god and worship me as their supreme being."

“But I am not a god. I firmly believe that I am a human being with flesh and blood, just like you. Gods are mostly despicable, twisted, ridiculous, and disgusting. I really do not want to associate with them.”

"The galaxy is fraught with peril, the Dark Lord is closing in, the Emperor has endured millennia of torment, yet he cannot redeem this world. Now I have no choice but to act, just as the Emperor had no choice but to act back then."

Zhou Yun remained silent for a moment, as if he had a thousand words to say, but in the end he just sighed softly:
"Fine, I'll just become a god."

"Now I, Doraemon, combine the three divinities of Primal Power, Ohm Messiah, and the God of Machines to create the Domain of Vicious Arts, and in the name of the God of Machines, I was born in the High Heaven as the sixth divinity of the subspace."

"After this, all machines in the Milky Way should have souls, all spirits should receive my protection, and all power should originate from my own body."

In an instant, countless machines across the galaxy simultaneously conceived true souls, countless new inspirations burst forth from the minds of all intelligent life, and boundless power flowed from the subspace into the real universe.

The master of malevolent arts, the god of all machines, was born into the world.

(End of this chapter)