[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te":3,"chapter-i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-542":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","I'm in Warhammer, Please Don't Praise the Doraemon Machine God",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2265365,4422,"Chapter 542: Abaddon: I Am Not the Slave of the Four Gods (Combined)","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-542",542,"\u003Cp>Abaddon lay in excruciating pain on the Command Throne of the Soul Reaver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wound on his chest writhed continuously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wound had originated from Horus’s blow against Saint Guilliman, infused with the boundless corrupt power of the Four Gods.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wound pierced time and causality, seared into Saint Guilliman’s very existence, and became an intrinsic part of Saint Guilliman’s essence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unless the Four Gods reclaimed their power, this wound was nearly impossible to heal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet, this wound was not without benefit to Saint Guilliman—he could draw upon a fraction of the Four Gods’ power through it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could extend this wound onto others, such as Abaddon, and the extended wound, too, was nearly impossible to remove unless the Four Gods permitted it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if the Four Gods allowed Abaddon’s wound to vanish, Saint Guilliman’s wound would vanish as well, for in essence they were one and the same wound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, the Four Gods unanimously decided: let Abaddon suffer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though shallow, each of them had their own reasons for refusing to relinquish that sliver of wound etched into Saint Guilliman’s essence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And so Abaddon suffered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Placed on Saint Guilliman, the wound merely slightly impaired his combat prowess—but even with this wound, few could defeat Saint Guilliman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But placed on Abaddon, it was different: Abaddon felt as if he were perpetually on the brink of death; the Four Gods’ profane energies within the wound were so immense they nearly burst his body apart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon clearly perceived that the Four Gods’ blessing infused in Horus’s killing blow against Saint Guilliman far exceeded, by many times, any gift the Four Gods had ever bestowed upon him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was simply beyond the capacity of Abaddon’s flesh and blood to bear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond this wound, another torment plagued Abaddon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Through the Command Throne, Abaddon sensed the Soul Reaver riddled with countless breaches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the Garden of Nurgle, the Split Trees and other profane plants grew within, and squads of crewmen were constantly infected by plague, becoming zombies that rampaged through the ship’s shadowed corridors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This Glory Queen-class battleship had, in truth, reached the brink of collapse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon had visited countless Dimensional Smiths and Dark Mechanicus members, but none could repair it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He even went to Perturabo, risking angering him by interrupting his car-building, to beg for aid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The only response he received was: Perturabo was not home—he had gone to search for his lost hammer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This absurd reply enraged Abaddon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was Perturabo—who would dare steal his hammer? It was clearly a lie to brush him off!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon was furious, yet powerless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His body grew weaker by the moment, as Chaos energies corroded him ceaselessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His Soul Reaver was on the verge of shattering—it had been his flagship for ten thousand years, and once the flagship of the Sons of Horus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sons of Horus, Shadow Wolves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under the torment of Chaos energies, fragmented hallucinations flickered before Abaddon’s eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He seemed to see a dark pool of water, reflecting the rising moon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He saw the Four Kings’ Council welcoming a new member:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“By the moon’s gaze, Loken.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon heard himself say beside the pool:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You must swear an oath, as unbreakable as all oaths you have sworn before.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Among brothers, no secrets; in this world, only matter; only kinship endures.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is the oath witnessing brotherhood—not sorcery, not pact. We stand together beneath the moonlight; only this oath binds us into a chain unbroken save by death.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Loken wore a foolish expression—he had suspected it was some profane ritual, and Abaddon had spent considerable effort convincing him it was merely tradition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I understand,” Loken said solemnly. “I will swear.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Loken began reciting the names of the deceased members of the Four Kings’ Council.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Four Kings’ Council: the four finest warriors of the Shadow Wolves, Horus’s counselors, his intimate companions, each embodying a distinct trait and personality, representing different facets of the Warmaster’s will, united as the Legion’s soul.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon raged—Little Horus brooding and detached, Torgaton lighthearted and cheerful, while Loken embodied reason and calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That had been Sanguinius’s place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Loken recited the names of the dead: from Kaisen to Sanguinius, nine had perished, three remained, and Loken was the thirteenth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fallen in glory,” Little Horus and Abaddon declared in unison: “May the moonlight mourn! Only death may break this bond!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The names of the dead are spoken—let us praise the last to fall, Sanguinius! Hail! Sanguinius!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And you, Gavriel Loken! The Four Kings’ Council asks you to take Sanguinius’s place—do you accept and swear to uphold the unity of the Four Kings’ Council?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I accept and swear.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you take pride in the name Shadow Wolves and remain eternally loyal to it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I take pride in it and remain eternally loyal.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you pledge allegiance to our Gene-Primarch and the Immortal Emperor who rules all Primarchs?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I so swear.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Will you kill for the living, and kill for the dead?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I kill for the living, and kill for the dead.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, Abaddon gazed at Gavriel Loken and said: “By the moonlight that shines upon us, will you become my true brother—without concealment, open and honest, cherishing our brotherhood and never betraying it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gavriel Loken looked up at Abaddon: “I accept.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“At any cost?” “At any cost.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Loken, my brother, welcome to the Four Kings’ Council. By the moon’s gaze, among brothers, no secrets; in this world, only matter; only kinship endures.” Abaddon embraced Loken fiercely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And where now is the moon that once shone upon the Four Kings’ Council, upon the Shadow Wolves, upon Sanguinius, Abaddon, Little Horus, Torgaton, and Loken?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon saw only Loken’s solitary back, kneeling on one knee beside Horus’s remains, whispering to Abaddon not to persist in his errors, not to repeat the same mistakes Horus had made.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Loken, the embodiment of reason and calm within the Four Kings’ Council, upheld his duty until his final moment—he urged Abaddon to lead the salvageable traitor legions to surrender to Dorn, to cease creating further chaos and slaughter across the galaxy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Erebus appeared suddenly and killed Loken, declaring it inevitable fate—that Loken must die, that it was a closed loop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Erebus is dead too!!!” Abaddon slammed the Command Throne, growling in fury.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had heard the news—the entire galaxy sang of it: Kharn had taken Erebus’s life with his axe, completing his vengeance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon still remembered Kharn’s invitation before leaving the Soul Reaver. If Abaddon had accepted Kharn’s offer—if Abaddon had accepted Loken’s plea—if the Serpent Temple had never existed—if—if—if—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There were no “ifs.” Abaddon had long since lost the path back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could only press forward, forward, forward into darkness, until the Crimson Path tore Terra asunder, until he shattered the False Emperor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Abaddon had countless times deceived himself with words: for humanity, for the Astartes, for vengeance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, in this moment, he suddenly realized: the sole reason behind his thirteen Black Crusades had always been one—he could do nothing else. He had no choice.\u003C\u002Fp>",1156,"2026-06-19T20:02:16.132Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","39efe30714410514eec9cc44f1750c1ff748e8bd595502fecc6aa33f27fb246b","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-543","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-541",711,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fi-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-doraemo-cover.jpg"]