Chapter 577

BOOM!!!

The Breaker fell like meteoric iron from the heavens, rolling waves of heat crashing down upon Abaddon's jet-black Terminator power armor.

Fu Gen felt a faint numbness in his fingers, his expression turning peculiar.

He swung twenty-two blows before finally cracking open Abaddon's power armor, exposing his body.

As for Abaddon's face, it was absurdly thick—no matter how many times the Breaker struck, it could never truly shatter Abaddon's skull.

As if some force beyond reality, beyond fate, were protecting him.

Was it the blessing of the Four Gods?

Fu Gen stared at the grotesque runes etched into Abaddon's charred body, each one like a tiny wound branded between his blood and flesh, twisted beyond measure.

Though Abaddon appeared nearly human on the outside, beneath his skin, within his flesh, his body had already been warped by chaotic demonic energy into a state utterly inhuman.

It was these blessings of the Four Gods, flowing through his mutated body, that protected Abaddon from Fu Gen's twenty-two heavy blows.

This resistance was not merely physical—it was a higher, fated resistance.

The gods had twisted fate, forcibly ensuring Abaddon would not die.

Any attempt to kill Abaddon would inexplicably be resisted, weakened, nullified.

It was an immensely powerful blessing, one reason Abaddon could roam the galaxy unchecked.

But Fu Gen felt only contempt.

To survive, Abaddon had allowed the Four Gods to desecrate his body.

Yet he still dared to claim he had not surrendered to the Four Gods, that he was an independent being, that he had manipulated the gods.

He was nothing but a plaything in the gods' hands—a monster wrapped in human skin, his inner self twisted beyond recognition, a pitiful failure and fool.

If the price of power was becoming this ugly, twisted, enslaved thing, Fu Gen would rather die.

Fu Gen looked at the grotesque Abaddon, and beyond contempt, he felt an uncontrollable sigh.

In his memory, he faintly saw Abaddon, saw his brother Horus.

Horus stood atop the Soul of Vengeance's platform, clad in armor as white as the moon, beside his Four Kings Council—so noble, so exalted, nearly perfect.

But where was his noble brother now?

And where were those noble warriors?

"Abaddon, you have sunk to this."

"If the Horus of old, before his fall, saw this, how heartbroken he would be."

"You are an impostor! You do not deserve to speak his name!" Abaddon struggled to rise.

But Fu Gen kicked him in the chest, pinning him to the ground.

"He was flawed, corrupted, a failure."

"My father forged us to become perfect beings."

"Whoever becomes truly perfect is the true Primarch of the Emperor's Sons."

Fu Gen was unmoved by Abaddon's words; he slowly raised his warhammer.

He wondered if there was a way to bypass the gods' blessing upon Abaddon.

Perhaps not killing him outright, but slowly accumulating damage upon him?

For example, draining his blood, letting him die slowly.

For example, shattering his limbs bit by bit, overwhelming his will with agony.

For example, pulling out his spine inch by inch, leaving him utterly paralyzed.

For example, peeling off his skin, exposing his flesh directly to the air.

Fu Gen was curious. Very curious.

If he carried out all these acts, would Abaddon still survive? And if so, in what form?

He had more than enough time to test his curiosity.

After all, the gods' blessing ensured Abaddon would not die easily.

Let us begin by slowly crushing his limbs!

For some reason, though this was Fu Gen's first time doing such a thing, he did it with unnatural ease.

He swung the warhammer, striking Abaddon's fingers—CRACK!

Fu Gen knew Abaddon's hide was thick, so after the blow, he did not lift the hammer immediately; instead, he pressed it hard against the ground, grinding like a millstone.

A sharp, grating sound of bone against metal rang out—shrill, ear-piercing, terrifying.

Fu Gen meticulously ground Abaddon's fingers into powder, as if engaged in a delicate art.

"Aaaaaaah!!!"

Abaddon clenched his teeth, but could not suppress a scream of agony.

"Fingers." Fu Gen's lips curled into a faint smile.

"What are you doing?" Abaddon, seeing Fu Gen's smile, felt sudden terror.

"Forearm." Fu Gen simply smiled.

Abaddon's heart lurched—but the Breaker came down again, another cruel grind, another grinding, another piercing shriek.

"Elbow."

"Upper arm."

"Shoulder."

As Fu Gen spoke each clear, elegant word, Abaddon's left arm dissolved into a pulpy mess.

"It's… over." Abaddon watched Fu Gen lift the hammer, gasping for breath, his voice laced with false hope.

"Over?"