[{"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-659":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},2265482,4422,"Chapter 659: Fine, I","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-659",659,"\u003Cp>It felt like thick machine oil soaked into every inch of his body, like incense smoke drifting through every pore, like sweet, leaf-dissolving bacteria crawling over his skin, like falling into a star-sea of fragrant dorayaki, like searing inspiration and creativity replacing every single cell in His flesh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If one felt more precisely, the things bathing Zhou Yun were emotion, faith, echo—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Joy born of sudden inspiration, intense curiosity, the urge to innovate, flickering wonder, malicious creation. These emotions wove into bone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Devout faith in Saint Doraemon, sacred chants echoing in millions of churches, the devout binary prayers of the Mechanist Order—these beliefs became flesh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crisp crack of the first ape striking flint, the thunderous blast of the first gunpowder in the alchemical furnace, the deafening roar of the atomic explosion—these echoes became blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Yun felt himself stretched, stretched, stretched impossibly long—from every moment in the past to this instant, He existed there, present at every spark of inspiration, present at every birth of new invention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stood upon a wasteland, feeling gravel scrape his ankles, watching an ape crouch on the ground, hairy fingers digging a pebble from the earth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ape turned the pebble in his fingers, studying its perfect sharp angle, and within his deep, wet eyes, a glimmer of inspiration began to ignite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He slowly raised the other stone beside him, ready to strike it down upon the pebble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But at that very moment, a low, rasping curse, woven in primal tongue, suddenly rang out—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A sharp war spear pierced Slaanesh’s chest, violet and pink blood pouring from the Lord of Excess.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That spear was a reflection of an ancient war within the Warp, the conflict between the Eldar who had just ended the War in Heaven and the Dragon Kingdoms that had traveled backward through time, and it was one of the Blood God’s most treasured trophies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In that war, the Eldar foresaw the future, while the Dragon Kingdoms repeatedly traversed time to attack from the past—and the spear naturally inherited that same effect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It could awaken injuries from the past.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slaanesh shrieked in unbearable agony, the twin blades forged from her hair slipping from her fingertips, dissolving into the Warp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Faces of terror surfaced on Slaanesh’s abdomen, chest, back, and arms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Asurmen’s flames burned half of Slaanesh’s body crimson, the Old Hag’s scream caused her skin to wrinkle, the Wanderer Hock tried to flee Slaanesh’s body, Valen gazed enviously at the malevolent Artifice Realm above.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Eldar gods once devoured by Slaanesh but never truly digested were awakened from the past and now rebelled against her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slaanesh’s eyes trembled, utterly unable to fathom how bloodthirsty and ruthless the Blood God had been.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Undoubtedly, the Blood God’s spear was meant to kill her outright.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That madman—that madman—had seized the moment when Zhou Yun had not yet completed his ascension, crushed Inard, and left Slaanesh incomplete, and struck to annihilate her outright, adding a god’s skull to his throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That blood-crazed lunatic must be insane—was it really necessary to go this far?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Zhou Yun ascended, Slaanesh could have been their ally! Killing her here was utterly counterproductive!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet the Blood God cared nothing for such things.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gain and loss in war had never been his concern—he cared only for the crimson hue and the trophy skulls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To Khorne, Slaanesh was not pure, not thorough, not complete.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wasn’t the honor and ecstasy of slaughter not a shared domain among them?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why should Slaanesh care about trivial gains when she could revel in the fulfillment of slaughter?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The weak infant god—Khorne would teach her the meaning of slaughter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Blood God roared in battle cry, his iron cavalry surging like a tide into Slaanesh’s realm—even Fuegan could not suppress such a vast force alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And at that moment, Khorne reached again into the endless tide of weapons piled upon his throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He drew forth the sword that had birthed war itself, the sword that had burned countless stars, incinerated the entire star-sea, the brass greatsword piercing the heavens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sword known as “The War in Heaven.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Blood God sat upon his brass throne, raised the brass greatsword, and aimed it at Slaanesh, impaled and nailed to the highest heaven.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today, He would sever the head of another god—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A buzzing drone filled the entire Warp, vast swarms of flies coalescing into a fly-sea, rising from Nurgal’s realm and surging toward the Blood God’s domain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The figure of the Father of Plagues emerged amid the cloud-like flies, this bloated, rotting, swollen deity chanting a viscous incantation, tipping his cauldron to pour its contents onto the Blood God’s army.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Blood God roared in fury, his brass greatsword crashing down, engulfing Nurgal in boundless warfire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nurgal raised his hand, and a massive, rust-covered bell materialized in his grasp; the bell rang seven times, as if tolling the doom of the world’s decay, and bluntly blocked Khorne’s terrifying blow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, a sharp chanting arose—a swirling vortex spun and slammed into Nurgal, spells of lightning, crystal, and flame clashing with the clouds of flies around him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cracks began to appear on Nurgal’s cauldron and bell; the Plague God groaned inwardly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had not expected Slaanesh to be so grievously wounded—nearly killed—by Khorne, who was forever chained to his brass throne and could never leave it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Slaanesh truly died, Nurgal alone could not withstand both Khorne and Tzeentch—he could only force himself forward, holding off both gods with his own strength, buying Slaanesh time to heal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Simultaneously, a soft footstep sounded; a pale, frail, emaciated yet beautiful woman stepped slowly from Nurgal’s garden, her tread upon the highest heaven causing delicate white lilies to bloom, spreading all the way to Slaanesh’s side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The goddess gently placed her fingers upon Slaanesh’s body, pierced by the spear, healing her wounds; the twisted faces upon Slaanesh’s body spat curses at her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“For… our children…” the goddess whispered, weak and feeble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Khorne roared in fury—not because Nurgal had blocked him, but because of Tzeentch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon seeing Slaanesh grievously wounded and Nurgal overwhelmed, Tzeentch had unhesitatingly withdrawn at least one-third of his own power, extending it toward the Realm of Malevolent Artifice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Khorne sought to claim Slaanesh’s skull, but Tzeentch cared only for his grand design—he did not want Zhou Yun to ascend.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His power began to stretch into every corner of time and space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The low, rasping curse, woven in primal tongue, suddenly rang out across the stony earth—the primal shaman cursed the ape who had just sparked inspiration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ape shrieked in agony, clutching his suddenly aching head as he writhed on the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The primal shaman cackled with glee, delighted to have halted the progress of technology.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But an obsidian axe blade slashed down—the shaman’s head tumbled to the earth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ape let out a triumphant roar; new inspiration ignited in his mind—the flint was struck into a blade, becoming an axe wielded in his hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tribe’s shamans screamed in rage, swinging their staffs adorned with animal skulls, summoning lightning, storms, and rain to crush the ape who had just forged the axe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Artisans extended rough hands, pulling newly forged bronze swords from the roaring furnace of the rainy night, swinging them against the rain-summoning shamans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shamans danced incomprehensible dances, sparks crackling from their hands, burning toward the warriors wielding bronze blades.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, amid the clang of hammers and the trampling of leather, riders leapt from the grasslands, mounting their saddles, stepping into stirrups, charging toward the shamans in the woods.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mages raised crystal orbs, starlight rippling within—but gunpowder erupted from alchemical furnaces, propelling iron cannons that shattered the newly woven spells.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Steam locomotives hummed, surging along rails like a tide, faster than the mages soaring through the heavens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brilliant crystals refracted countless shifting lights, lancing toward the newly airborne aircraft, tearing apart humanity’s attempts to fly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But rockets ignored the earth, shattered the clouds, soared into boundless void—and when they looked back, the gods’ figures were gone.\u003C\u002Fp>",1331,"2026-06-19T20:02:16.510Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","8a4a639fb0d6496e85cc8569fea36623978904bed5b7ffbfe6e149bcf74a6fde","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-660","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-658",711,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fi-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-doraemo-cover.jpg"]