[{"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-703":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},2265526,4422,"Chapter 703: The Mathematical Level of Mortarion","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-703",703,"\u003Cp>“Ferrus”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim’s words caused Fulgur’s expression to falter slightly, his lips trembling:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You mean Ferrus.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course!” Fulgrim gripped his Warhammer of the Broken Hearth, growling: “What would Ferrus say seeing the once-purple phoenix fallen to this?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I have never regretted killing Ferrus,” Fulgur whispered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim froze: “I didn’t ask—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I have never regretted killing Ferrus!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur’s voice rose sharply, his four arms swirling like blossoms, swords, whips, and claws crossing into a kaleidoscope as they bore down on Fulgrim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim’s face hardened, the Warhammer of the Broken Hearth surging with searing furnace fire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The serpent-twisted blade in Fulgur’s left hand shrieked as it clashed with the Warhammer, the exploding energy illuminating hundreds of meters around like daylight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim’s arms went numb, cracks forming in his bones—he felt he faced an ancient titan greater than an entire Titan Legion, a god who had descended into mortal dimensions, yet the one suffering was not He, but reality itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sanguinius, Lion, and Guilliman never used their full strength when fighting me in the arena.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He deserved to die!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur’s voice sliced like a blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You wretch—I fought shoulder to shoulder with Ferrus, I forged weapons with him, we bled together, we swore oaths together.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But you—you wretch—only peered into my memories. When did you ever see Ferrus?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lethal whip lashed down; Fulgrim’s armor shattered in an instant, flesh torn by the barbs, agony ripping through his body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This whip was no mere weapon—it was a full-fledged instrument of torture, drenched in toxins that did not kill but inflicted endless torment; a mortal would have collapsed from such horror long ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Fulgrim, at least in flesh, remained an Primarch—his supernatural immunity suppressed the pain swiftly, his superhuman reflexes allowing him to pull slightly away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ferrus was stubborn! Boring! Cold as iron!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur roared as he pressed forward, his flame-blade carving an arc that struck the Warhammer of the Broken Hearth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He understood no art, appreciated no painting, sensed no rhythm in music, knew nothing of beauty.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The flame-blade before Fulgrim suddenly multiplied into thousands, slashing from every direction—he swung the Warhammer desperately to block.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet some attacks pierced his defense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His armor dented, cracked, and blackened continuously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He stole my honor again and again, overshadowed my glory again and again, betrayed me again and again!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I—I invited him with brotherly affection, because of our true friendship I invited him to join a new order.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But he refused me! He betrayed our friendship!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He deserved to die by my blade!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur’s voice turned shrill and piercing:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So ungrateful! So obstinate! So utterly incorruptible! So unyielding! So resilient! So never-broken!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur’s voice grew quieter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes,” Fulgrim nodded. “I have never seen Ferrus with my own eyes—I only peered into your memories.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yet I still know his resilience, his indestructibility. If anything in this world is perfect without carving, it is Ferrus.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I never walked beside him, yet I loved him. You walked beside him—how could you not love him?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur’s assault halted. He opened his mouth slightly, violet eyes glistening with tears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim felt a force surge within him—as if it had come from Fulgur’s own body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim remembered the words Kaul had once spoken.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was becoming Fulgur.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim let out a primal battle cry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He leapt upward, swinging the Warhammer of the Broken Hearth in an arc, the hammerhead aimed straight at Fulgur’s twisted face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur, as a Primarch, was faster than Fulgrim—even with Fulgrim seizing that fleeting moment of hesitation, Fulgur still evaded it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Warhammer struck Fulgur’s shoulder; a sharp crack rang from his armor, the finely carved eagle emblem snapping off, exposing Fulgur’s shoulder to the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wretch!” Fulgur shrieked, thrusting the twisted blade at Fulgrim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim leapt aside, swinging his hammer to strike the broken eagle on Fulgur’s chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The eagle emblem flew from Fulgur’s chest—the talons, it turned out, had pierced his flesh, dragging out streaks of blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur howled and staggered back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This was given to me by my father!” Fulgur cried, staring at the shattered eagle on the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Emperor’s gift?” Fulgrim landed, tilting his head slightly to ask.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had not expected Fulgur to still keep the Emperor’s gift.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Fulgur ignored Fulgrim’s question. His grotesque face slowly lifted; the wound on his chest healed almost instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He fixed Fulgrim with a deeply gloomy gaze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You stole from me,” Fulgur growled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I prefer to call it recognition,” Fulgrim tightened his grip on the Warhammer, smirking: “You yourself admitted I am more the purple phoenix than you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You are a fake. A counterfeit. A clone,” Fulgur’s voice pierced like glass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Primarch of the Sons of the Emperor must be the most perfect,” Fulgrim stared at Fulgur, showing no fear: “Who is more perfect is the Primarch. Who wins is the Primarch.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fool,” Fulgur laughed. “The more perfect you become, the more you resemble me. If you defeat me, it only proves you have become exactly like me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The path to perfection is this: the more you walk it, the clearer your imperfections become. You call my posture corruption—I call it the necessary path to perfection.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I do not believe this is the result of the path to perfection.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgrim shook his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I have been thinking—what does perfection truly look like?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you remember the jade pendant from early human civilization that Chagatai Khan once gave us?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You praised its beauty, admired its history—but it was born from waste.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fulgur paused, stunned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He remembered the jade: a traveler in a hooded cloak walking through swirling snow, a withered tree swaying beside him. He had indeed been captivated by its craftsmanship, unable to suppress his admiration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This pendant was made in the era Zhou Yun once lived in. When I spoke of it to Zhou Yun, he told me it was born from waste.”\u003C\u002Fp>",971,"2026-06-19T20:02:16.510Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","8541f912b507ded7d9492809085eb0a8c9bcc3c4eebbb1a33886e8d487777539","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-704","i-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-dora-te-chapter-702",711,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fi-m-in-warhammer-please-don-t-praise-the-doraemo-cover.jpg"]