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

Chapter 677 Horus: Azeroth! I'm going to kill you!

Hammer against hammer, furnace breaker against furnace breaker, clashed together, instantly whipping up a fierce gust of wind.
Fugan is faster than Clone Horus; his power armor is lighter and more agile, making it easier for him to utilize the Primarch's superhuman speed.

Clone Horus, on the other hand, was far more ferocious. His power armor was thicker and more powerful, and every swing of his warhammer was like the eye of a destructive storm.
Fugen leaped lightly, dodging the fierce winds whipped up by Horus's hammer, while his Forgebreaker warhammer gleamed with a furnace-fire-like light, seizing the opening exposed during Horus's attack and slamming down.

But Horus is Horus after all. Even though he was just a clone, his fighting instincts etched into his genes still led him to make the right decision.

Horus didn't dodge at all; instead, he charged towards Fugen like a reckless metal behemoth.

The Forgebreaker slammed into Horus, its massive hammer unleashing a burst of light like furnace fire. Horus's heavy armor twisted and deformed, but at the same time, the Forgebreaker was also stopped by Horus's enormous size.
Clone Horus crashed into Fulgrim's arms, and the Worldbreaker warhammer swung down, aiming for Fulgrim's delicate chin.

Fugen was awestruck by the wildness Horus displayed.

Looking into the wolf god's eyes, hidden between layers of muscles, he seemed to see the manifestation of destructive power in the present world.
But Fugen laughed. He felt his blood rushing, an indescribable excitement and joy bursting through his body.

Without hesitation, Fugen abandoned the Forgebreaker's Hammer, freeing his body. With superhuman speed, he retreated a step, his nose brushing past Horus's Worldbreaker Hammer just millimeters away.

Then, Fugen, with his bare hands, threw out his fists.

The fist, encased in a purple-gold gauntlet, slammed into Horus's face like a storm.
The sound of flesh clashing against metal rang out, and blood splattered from beneath Fugen's relentlessly swinging fists.

Click! !

Horus suddenly grabbed Fuggen's left arm.
The clone warlord used a single hand to forcefully pry open Fugen's arm, exposing his bleeding face to Fugen's view.
"I------"

Peng! ! !
Before the War General could speak, Fugen punched Horus in the chin with his right fist.
"You!!!" Horus roared in fury.
Fugen punched him in the nose again, followed by his eye socket, forehead, and cheek.
Fugan tried to force Horus to release his arm by using pain.

But Horus's arm grew stronger and stronger, his fingers even digging into Fugan's arm armor.

He suddenly exerted his strength, and Fuchs felt the world spinning. Clone Horus actually swung Fuchs up with one hand, sending him flying through the air in an arc before slamming him heavily onto the ground behind him.
The entire murder planet seemed to tremble, as if a bolt of lightning had exploded beneath the ground. Centered on Horus and Fugen, the ground within a three- to four-meter radius caved in.

Fugen felt dizzy; every bone in his body was groaning and aching.
But Fugen couldn't help but laugh.
Blood was rushing through his body, and joy was rising within him.
We must destroy him!
The voice spoke in Fugen's mind.

Fugen nodded in agreement.

He wanted to kill the War General's clone to prove that he was far more than just a clone.
He is the true Primarch, having already embarked on the path to perfection.
Clone Horus gripped the Worldbreaker power hammer tightly with both hands, and a fierce wind swept as the hammer slammed into Fugan on the ground.

But Fugen nimbly rolled away, dodging the heavy hammer that was about to smash into his head. Then he flipped over, stood up, and grabbed the Forgebreaker's warhammer lying beside him.
Fugen wielded the Forgebreaker's Warhammer, which clashed with Horus's Worldbreaker. The energy fields released by the two warhammers resembled two stars colliding, merging, and crushing each other.

To the Astartes around them, Fugen and Horus themselves were as fiery as stars.
Fugen was like a bright sun in its prime, fiery, perfect, and flawless. Not a single sunspot could be found on its photosphere, and the golden and purple light it constantly emitted made one's skin sting.
Horus, like the first star rising near midnight, is scorching, powerful, and furious, determined to burn midnight to ashes, constantly radiating a terrifying destructive force.
The hammers collided once more, causing the murderous star to tremble and the dark clouds to tear apart, allowing the faint light of the twilight sun to shine through the gaps onto the two true stars.

But besides these two blazing stars, there is another equally intense clash between two planets on this battlefield.
Abaddon, the Hellbeast, relentlessly unleashed bullets at the Primal Forged Leader, while the mindless demon "Huns," residing within its body, continuously fired deadly arrows, attempting to kill the Primal Forged Leader.

The original leader constantly used the teleportation ability granted by the psychic training box and his own psychic power to contend with Abaddon.
The runes are woven from the psychic energy of nature, the cycle of life and death, and the storms. If a rune priest of Fenris were here, he would surely marvel at the power displayed by the Primal Forged Head.

But it wasn't just Fenris's chilling winds; other types of psionic energy also swirled around the Primal Forged Head.
Spells woven with wisdom and intertwined with fate.

It is almost indistinguishable from superstition, a curse based on numbers.
A storm mingled with the spirit of nature, formed from the concept of balance.
The powers of the Space Wolf Rune Priest, the Thousand Sons Supreme Wizard, the Death Guard Numerology Master, and the White Scar Storm Prophet were simultaneously manifested within him.

He was enveloped by an intense sense of bliss from the umbilical energy. He could feel his cells being torn apart by the surging psionic energy, and his muscles were tearing apart from overusing the power in his genes. The pain caused by his genetic defects was also constantly surging in his nerves.

But he felt no pain; his body was completely under his control. Pain could neither restrain nor limit him.

Unbridled psionic energy roared and pressed down on Abaddon, psionic flames constantly erupting from the eyes of the Primal Forged Leader. Faced with such wild psionic energy, the hellbeast Abaddon found it difficult to get close to the Primal Forged Leader for the time being.
There were twelve minutes and thirty-one seconds left. Yuan Zhuzhi was calculating the effective time of the umbilical energy.
But at that moment, the tip of Yuan Zhuzhi's nose caught a faint floral scent.

In that instant, Yuan Zhuzhi seemed to see thousands of eerie scarlet flowers slowly blooming and entering his body.

The poppy, born from the addictive drug that has had a profound impact on humanity, is unleashing its power.

This demon silently infiltrated the body of the Primal Forged Leader, attempting to overwhelm him with pleasure, ecstasy, and euphoria.
"Hmm?" The Poppy Demon let out a soft hum.
Its will sensed something was wrong as soon as it entered the body of the Primal Forged Head.
It felt immense pleasure within the body of the Primal Forged One, but the Poppy Demon hadn't even spread pleasure within the Primal Forged One yet, so where did this pleasure come from?
The Poppy Demon's instincts were awakened; it couldn't help but begin to experience the pleasure and bliss flowing within the Primal Forged Head.

That sense of happiness far surpasses the pleasure that the opium demon can produce; it is a more complex, fulfilling, tangible, and beautiful feeling.
It was as if the child had transformed into a baby, gently cradled in its mother's arms, who hummed a soothing melody. The father, watching the towering trees outside the window, hoped that his child would grow as majestic as those trees.
It seemed to have transformed into a teenager, being kicked and bullied by older students. But its friends stood up for it. The boy who used to bully it shouted that it was the only one who could be bullied by him, and charged at the older students without hesitation. They were covered in bruises and, in the sunset, helped each other home.

It seemed like it had entered the most difficult days of its studies. The cold wind rattled against the window. Its deskmate ran in from outside the classroom, her delicate face red from the cold wind. She pulled a steaming cup of milk tea from her baggy school uniform, which covered her fingers, and shared it with it.
It felt a wife it had never known before grasping its hand, her slender fingers trembling with the tension of the wedding.
It saw its child with scrapes on its knees, but its face was filled with pride as it held up the sports meet certificate.

It saw itself growing old, leaning against the bed, its elderly wife gently kissing its wrinkled face before closing her eyes forever. But it felt no sadness, for it too had felt the call of death, which was not frightening, but rather strangely comforting.
It lived a wonderful and happy life, one could say.

"Ugh... Ah? Ah!"

The poppy's soul let out a sob born of happiness.

This situation left the other seven demons residing in Abaddon's body confused and bewildered.
“Poppy! What a foolish thing you’re doing!” Delanicoen demanded.
Abaddon's will was often unclear, and whenever the battle reached a critical moment, Delanicorn often had to take over command and control the other seven demons in the fight.
The will to let poppies invade the Primal Head was also its command. However, the current situation seems a little off?
Poppy let out a soft moan; the bliss it felt from the Primal Forged Head was spreading to the other demons around it.
This was his instinct, a constant dissemination of pleasure, like a poppy sowing its seeds, an instinct to make poppies bloom all over the mountains and fields.
The other seven demons were quickly overwhelmed by this feeling of happiness. Delanicohn, adrift in a sea of ​​bliss, couldn't help but curse aloud.
A sinister demon, corrupted by someone else's pleasure.
So shameful
As a result, Abaddon's body stiffened for a moment under the impact of the intense feeling of happiness.

The leader of the original forging seized this brief opportunity, drawing a power sword from his waist, its blazing psionic energy engulfing it in roaring, azure flames.
The figure of the original leader flashed, using teleportation to arrive at Abaddon's side.
Abaddon, his body too overwhelmed by happiness to move, could only stiffly swing his arms to strike the head of the original forged sword.

The eyes of the original leader flashed; the X-ray vision honed by the superpower training kit allowed him to locate the weak point in the Abaddon armor.

The Forged Leader swung his sword fiercely, plunging it into Abaddon's arm.

With a slight movement of the blade, Abaddon's arm was instantly severed, falling to the ground with a thud.
Abaddon let out a wild roar and took two or three steps back.
"Dun!!!"

"Horus's stepfather's arm is broken!!!"

This startled shout caused Yuan Zhuzhi to freeze in his tracks.
The sound carried far, and even Fergen, who was fighting Clone Horus, couldn't help but chuckle upon hearing it.
Horus's face darkened and twisted several times, then he involuntarily turned his head and roared at Abaddon, the hellbeast:
"Aizekel!!!!!"

"If you ever call yourself Horus's stepfather again, I swear I'll make you die a death worse than Saint Gilles's!!!"

The clone Horus's genetic memories were not yet awakened; he had almost no real memories of Horus.
But Abaddon's words provoked him, and just one sentence awakened a third of Horus's genetic memories.

Fugan looked at Horus, his smile widening: "Welcome back, brother."

"Forgrim." Horus hesitated for a moment upon hearing Forgrim's words and hearing his awakened memories.
But that's exactly the effect Fugen wanted.
He took a step forward, seized Horus's hesitation, and swung the Forgebreaker's Warhammer at the clone.

Horus's roar startled Abaddon as well.
Supported by one-third of Horus's genetic memory, this roar truly resembled that of the former Warmaster.

Abaddon instinctively turned around and couldn't help but shout:
"Father! You're not dead!!!"

Horus turned his head and glanced at Abaddon, who had transformed into a hell beast, a hint of helplessness flashing across his face.
He sighed, not even bothering to dodge the Brokensmith's warhammer that Fuggen was bringing down.

"That's fine then," Horus said softly.

The warhammer roared, and the orange-red glow of the furnace engulfed Horus. The sharp hammerhead smashed directly into Horus's gleaming bald head.

Bang! ! ! !

Horus's head exploded into brain matter, splattering in all directions and transforming into a scarlet flower.

"Ah! Father! You're dead again!" Abaddon said blankly.

The Forged Leader seized the moment when Abaddon was stunned, thrusting forward with his power sword, the blade aimed directly at the coffin lid where Abaddon's remains lay.
But an indescribable, dark, twisted emotion stemming from humanity's fear of the unknown suddenly surged within him. The unpredictable, distorted domain demon lurking within Abaddon was the first to emerge from the ocean of bliss, stopping the Primal Forged Head in its tracks at just the right moment.
Fabius Bayer, who had been hiding in the shadows all along, noticed this opportunity.

The corpse of the emperor's son, which had fallen sometime earlier, suddenly stood up.
The corpse's skin rapidly rotted, revealing Fabius Bayer's somber, spider-like face.

He raised the Scepter of Pain in his hand and threw it at the back of the Primalhead. The weapon, which came from the demon prince and crippled Marquis Shah Lakklack, was wrapped in terrifying warp fel energy and pierced into the Primalhead's power armor.

(End of this chapter)