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

Chapter 676 Doraemon's stuff is too pure!!
This situation caused Yuan Zhuzhi to pause for a moment, not immediately realizing what had happened.
Abaddon's resistance to psionic illusions far exceeded the expectations of the Primarch.
His psychic illusions did no harm to Abaddon; instead, they exposed his weakness.

Abaddon's fighting instincts led him to seize this opening, raising his other power arm high.

"Abba!!!!!!!!! Don!!!!"

Abaddon's mechanical arm struck the Primal Forged Head's arms with tremendous force, like a drop pod descending from the sky. The Primal Forged Head could not withstand the blow, and a low, mournful groan escaped from its arms.
If Kaul hadn't drawn inspiration and technology from the Phantom Thief DX suit to create this new model of power armor, Abaddon's punch would have broken the original Forged Chief's arm.
He let out a low growl, his psychic power surging, the veil of reality briefly torn open, and a beam of light formed from pure warp energy pierced into reality, hurtling towards Abaddon.

The power of this psionic energy was so strong that it instantly forced Abaddon back several steps.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, the Primal Forged Leader distanced himself from Abaddon. The mobilization of such powerful psionic energy caused his muscles to twitch, awakening the defects in his genes. The intense pain almost overwhelmed him.

"Boom! Boom boom boom boom boom boom!!!!" Abaddon roared like a machine gun, and a series of brass enchanted bullets burst from the Horus Claw on his arm, turning into a dense rain of bullets that shot towards the Primal Head.

The lips inside the helmet of the original forged leader moved slightly, and a pill fell into his mouth. It was Doraemon's high-efficiency pill, one of the Doraemon gadgets commonly used by humans today.

In addition, gas tanks hidden inside the power armor began pumping gas out, which was then pumped into the navel of the original Forged Head through a hose detached from a Doraemon gadget.
Both the gas and the tube come from a device called a "navel gas pump." This device generates navel gas, which is pumped into the navel through its own tube. Afterward, the user loses all sensation of pain and is filled with a pure feeling of bliss. One dose of navel gas can maintain the effect for thirty minutes.

Kaul retrieved a portion of the power armor stored within the Proto-Forged Head and then inserted it into the Proto-Forged Head's body through a flexible tube removed from the device, thus preventing the Proto-Forged Head from being affected by its genetic defects for thirty minutes.

However, this gadget is not without side effects. After its effects wear off, the physical and mental pain will backfire, and there is a high probability of addiction. To be honest, when the original leader first used this gadget, he even thought that Slaanesh should roll off the Slaanesh Six Rings, kowtow six times to St. Doraemon, and give him the authority over addictive drugs.

A surge of intense joy and overflowing happiness erupted within Yuan Zhuzhi's body. This wasn't the empty nerve stimulation brought on by those neurotoxins, but a complex sense of happiness that trembled from his soul to his body. The constant pain within him also rapidly faded away under the influence of the umbilical energy, leaving his body light and powerful.
The Doraemon merchandise is so authentic!!
Yuan Zhuzhi took a deep breath, feeling the naturally grown superhuman organs within his body taking effect, and experiencing the workings of his genes.
His body contained the extraordinary genetic sequences of twenty-one Primarchs, a fusion of all the Legions' Astartes.
Having overcome the intense pain caused by his genetic defect, he could wield that power.

A wild, savage glint flashed in his eyes, and the heat of the deep subterranean fire and the frost of the raging blizzard erupted simultaneously from his psionic energy.

A raw, unrefined torrent of warp energy, born from awe, anger, fear, and imagination of the power of nature, erupted from his fingertips, transforming into runes like a blizzard that swept past and crashed towards Abaddon.
The bullets aimed at the Primal Head were frozen in mid-air, like a blizzard from a distant wasteland sweeping over Abaddon's massive body, with frost instantly covering most of his body.

The power within the Primal Forged One's genes erupted once more, unleashing another form of psionic energy from within him—a psionic energy born of superstition, arrogance, and a tendency to oversimplify the world.
He took seven rhythmic steps forward, and the fel energy of the warp sprang forth from nowhere, transforming into an invisible and intangible curse that merged into Abaddon's massive hellbeast body, causing Abaddon's aura to weaken considerably.

Then there is the third type of psychic power, which comes from wisdom, knowledge, thirst, and curiosity about the truth.
Complex incantations poured from the Primal Forged Head's mouth, and a beam of light as scorching as a star burst forth from its fingertips, then compressed, reshaped, and decomposed, continuously turning the surrounding matter into dust that drifted away.
The Forged One flicked his finger, pushing the beam of light toward Abaddon.

In an instant, a third of the armor on Abaddon's coffin lid was removed, and the metal from the Vastor furnace was reduced to dust.
On the dark blue blade, the faces of countless murdered men screamed shrilly, and the frost covering Abaddon shattered with a bang.

The chaotic eight-pointed star embedded in Abaddon flashed, the one representing the Penicillin Demon flickering, dispelling the curse covering Abaddon.

"Punch!!!!!"

Frost scattered like shattered gems, the light formed from psionic energy crumbled before the eerie blue glow, and the storm and blizzard were cleaved by the descending sword blade.
Abaddon's massive body displayed a speed completely disproportionate to its size, arriving before the Primal Chief in an instant.
The dark, twisted metal colossus stood backlit, its form blurred and indistinct by the swirling snow, making it all the more terrifying.

The demonic sword Delanicorn, born from the first murder, slashed down amidst countless wails of agony—

bite!!!!!!

The legendary sword, Lightning Bolt, lit up, forcefully helping the original forger block Abaddon's sword strike.

Abaddon quickly sheathed his sword, then unleashed three more consecutive slashes.

The legendary sword, Dianguangmaru, was quickly drained of its power under the fierce three strikes, but the original forger seized the opportunity to distance himself from Abaddon.
The Demon Sword Delany Cohen was too dangerous and deadly. Even though he also possessed three famous swords, the Lightning Bolt, the Former Forger was unwilling to risk close combat with him.

"Punch!!!! Punch!!!! Punch!!!!!"

Abaddon let out three battle cries, and once again raised the Claw of Horus, aiming the bolter hidden between its blades at the Primal Head:
"Let Horus's stepfather shoot you!!!"

The roaring arrows were unleashed.

Fugen gripped the Brokensmith's Warhammer tightly in both hands, gazing at this scene.
He has not yet made a move.

From the moment the battle began, Fugen had a subtle premonition that there would be a specific opponent reserved for him on this battlefield.
This opponent is neither Edoron nor Abaddon.

Therefore, Fugen never engaged in combat; he was constantly adjusting his state, bringing himself closer and closer to perfection.
On the tracks, Fabius Bayer, aboard the ship, also watched this scene unfold.
He had indeed prepared an opponent for Fugen.
A beam of teleportation exploded in the center of the battlefield, revealing a towering figure within it.

The moment that voice appeared, the air seemed to freeze.
Both the Phoenix Son and the Emperor Son froze in their tracks.
Even the most arrogant and eccentric son of an emperor dared not show any arrogance in front of that figure.

The rounded bald head reflected the residual light from the transmission, shooting in all directions and illuminating the face of every Astartes.

The demigod, now dead, stood once more on the battlefield, his body shimmering with a dazzling light that traced every rune on his exquisitely crafted armor and illuminated the crimson eye on his chest that gazed upon the battlefield.
The Moon Wolf's cloak fluttered in the wind as the Lord of War stood proudly, his resolute face as bright as the morning star.
Silence. He brought silence the moment he stepped onto the battlefield.

Until an old soldier, the son of an emperor who had survived a great rebellion ten thousand years ago, let out a startled roar.
"Wolf God! Wolf God above! He has returned!" The lingering power of the past even made the old soldier, the son of the emperor, ignore the danger around him and kneel down on the ground.

A look of astonishment crossed Alkenes' face as he clashed with Edoron; he looked on in disbelief.
"Commander?" he couldn't help but shout.

"It's just a clone! A fake!" Adoron replied, but his voice trembled slightly.
Even knowing it was a clone created by that madman Fabius, Edoron was still awestruck by the aura emanating from it that was the same as Horus's when he saw it with his own eyes.

"Horus?" Abaddon turned to look at the clone, but quickly turned back. "It's not Horus. Stepfather got his hopes up for nothing."

Not Horus.
The name Horus was indeed meaningless to that clone.
He is 16-75-A, representing the seventy-fifth clone of genome number sixteen. The "A" signifies that he is a successful clone.

In his genome, only two copies were successfully made; one was destroyed, and the other was him.
He didn't care about the name Horus; his memory was almost blank. There was only one thing he cared about.
Father's love

He longed to relieve his father's worries and to gain the approval of Fabius, the creator.

He loves his father and hopes his father will love him in return.

He would kill for his father.

Fabius Bayer gazed at the battlefield.

He had originally intended to create a clone of Feralus to counter Fugen.

After all, cloning Feralas was more to his liking.
However, Felus is difficult to control, almost like metal, and is more prone to recalling memories hidden in its genes. There is also a significant chance that it will break free of control after meeting Fugen.
Furthermore, the instant Fabius Bayer had this thought, Forgrim's figure flashed before his eyes.

The Slaanesh Primarch held the flaming sword with his arms crossed, his cold face hidden behind the blade staring intently at Fabius Bayer, as if warning him not to act recklessly.

Fabius had no choice but to use the second clone of Horus, which he had treasured for a long time and had never shown before.
This clone of Horus underwent some psychological adjustments by Fabius, which suppressed his past memories and intensified his yearning for paternal love, making him instinctively obey Fabius Bayer's commands.

Klonhorus stood at the heart of the battlefield, and no one dared approach him. Even the bullets flying around him seemed to fear him and avoid him.
He himself did not move an inch, standing firmly in place, wielding the replica Worldbreaker's Warhammer and the Claw of Horus, his gaze fixed on Fugen high above.
This is a silent invitation, one brother to another, one Primarch to another.

Fugen's figure leaped lightly from the tower, the height of over ten meters seeming to exist nothing to him.
He strode across the battlefield, and again, not a single Phoenix or Emperor's Son dared to disturb him.

“Brother,” Fugen said in a clear voice, a warm yet slightly mocking smile still playing on his lips.

"You have betrayed our father." Clone Horus's voice was like the low growl of a wolf, instilling a sense of fear in those around him.

“You also betrayed our father.” Fugen’s smile faded slightly.

“Our father is Bayer,” Klonhorus said. “He is our direct creator. He created us from the remaining genetic sequences in the corpses, just as the Emperor created the true Primarchs.”

“Indeed.” Fugen nodded approvingly. “But before being Bayer’s creation, I am first and foremost the son of the Emperor.”

"Moreover, if we're talking about who abandoned me first, I could have been his new Primarch, his new father, a father far more perfect than Forgrim, but he sold me to Tarasin."

Klonhorus remained unmoved, merely staring indifferently at Fugen.

Fugen also vaguely sensed it.
This clone Horus has not yet awakened the memories hidden in his genes.

"Do you forget it?"

Fugen asked:
Have you forgotten who you are?

“You are the emperor’s first son, you are his centaur.”

"You are Horus, the War General."

“I am 16-75-A, the creation of Fabius Bayer, his son.” Klonhorus lowered the replica Worldbreaker warhammer in his hand.
Although it was a replica, it incorporated fragments of the Worldbreaker that Fabius had recovered, and for a time its power seemed to rival that of the Forgebreaker warhammer in Fugen's hands.
Instead of lowering the Broken Forge, Fugen raised it high with one hand, tilting its head slightly upward, its violet eyes fixed on Horus, and its voice rose a notch as it proclaimed to everyone on the battlefield:
"Keep your eyes wide open, my children, whether loyal or traitorous, remember this moment."

"remember."

“You were there when the Son of the Emperor killed Horus.”

(End of this chapter)