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

Chapter 710 If you can't be reborn from the ashes, then burn yourself in the fire.

The fire burned, so scorching, so intense, burning from another dimension, burning from the realm of the dead, engulfing Thor's body in an instant.
Only the Broken Forge Warhammer, bathed in the flames, grew ever more dazzling and bright, like a beacon standing on the earth, calling out to its former master.

A pair of large, broad hands emerged from the fire, with flames coiling around them, yet unable to harm them in the slightest. Instead, the flames bathed the hands in an orange-yellow glow, making the constantly flowing silver metal on them gleam brilliantly.

Those hands grabbed the Forgebreaker's warhammer.
The modifications, corruption, and distortions that Perturabo had inflicted on it were instantly burned away by the flames, revealing the appearance of the Forgebreaker warhammer as it was when it was first taken out of the furnace.
Pure, resilient, and unyielding, like a piece of cold steel found deep in the mountains, this is so unique in all of Foggrim's works.
It has no excessive decoration, no inlaid gems or gilding, and possesses a powerful simplicity.

Forgrim recalled looking at Feralus's illuminated body on Mars and being inspired to model the warhammer after that man, whom he found utterly uninteresting at the time.

And the man stood in front of Forgrim once again.
He stepped out of the raging flames, the fire outlining his form—a body forever burning, ash forming his muscles, fuel his bones, and smoke his armor.
Silvery hands lifted the Broken Furnace above its neck, its head, outlined by the firelight, swaying gently with the changing light and shadow.

Forgrim let out a painful wail, his body trembling slightly.

Marius spat out a mouthful of blood, pulled the dagger from his own neck, and tried to stand in front of the burning fire giant to protect his Primarch.

“No!” Fugrim roared. “Marius, don’t stop him. Let him come over here and let me see him.”

Marius faithfully obeyed the Primarch's command, allowing the fire-breathed giant to walk toward Forgrim.

Fugrim stretched out his hands, cautiously and tentatively bringing them closer to the burning giant, as if he were blind.

But his fingers stopped just before touching the blurry head, as if he feared that the head in front of him was just a dream bubble that would burst with the slightest touch.

"Forgrim." The fire giant's voice, deep and cold as rock, echoed in Forgrim's ears.

Fugrim let out a mournful cry, withdrew his hand in fear, and curled up into a ball:
"Are you here to kill me? Are you here for revenge? Did Father send you to kill me?"

"No! No! He, the Emperor has no power here, you can't scare me."

"I can see that you are just a bubble, a flame; there is no real power supporting you in your body!"

“You’re right.” The Fiery Giant did not deny Forgrim’s statement: “The power of our Father is no longer to be squandered. I stand here not because of the Emperor’s orders, nor to kill you.”

"Just because I want to stand here and talk to you!"

Straightforward, decisive, and with an irresistible force.
Even though Forgrim knew that what stood before him was merely a powerless illusion, he still couldn't help but curl up and let out a sharp cry.
"You're lying to me! You haven't looked for me for ten thousand years. Do you know how much I want to see you?"

“I have,” the fire giant’s voice was firm and certain: “You rejected me, Fugrim, you have rejected me time and time again, and you will not allow me to see you.”

"You're lying to me!" Fugrim screamed, wildly swinging his flaming sword, but not a single strike landed on the fire giant. "I see it! Your eyes are filled with hatred! You are a ghost summoned by the god of vengeance!"

"I still remember your eyes when you died, filled with hatred, which terrified me!"

"Of course I hate it!"

The fire giant's voice also rose a little:
"When you cut off my head, I felt not only hatred, but also sorrow."

"Not because you killed me."

The flaming giant entered Fugrim.

"It's because of the Fogrem I love."

"...and just like that, they were gone forever."

Fugrim whimpered and retreated again, putting distance between himself and the burning giant.

"Phoenix, how pitiful you are," the giant lamented, his voice so sincere, yet to Fugrim it sounded like sharp knives.

"Then why are you standing in front of me now!" Fugrim roared, and his flaming sword plunged into Feralus's side.

"Because you are different, Phoenix," said the giant of fire.

"Oh!" Forgrim's voice suddenly rose, a bitterness spreading through it: "You came for him, that clone?"

"Then you're too late! I've already killed him, and the clone you wanted no longer exists."

“You killed him, but you didn’t destroy him,” the flaming giant said, staring at Fuggen, his eyes seeming to see through the soul beneath Fuggen’s twisted body. “And I’ve never seen any clones, I’ve only seen Fuggen.”

"You," Forgrim's voice suddenly lost a layer of its imposing tone: "you've even learned to use sweet talk and flattery."

“I don’t know anything about flattery, don’t you understand that, Fugrim?”

The fiery giant shook his head.
“You are now Fugen; you have bitten his tail and become one with him.”

“You must remember that there is no time in the subspace. Since you were Fugen at the end, you must have been Fugen at the beginning.”

A look of horror crossed Fugrim's face.

“You are Forgrim, you are the perfect Forgrim, you are the symbol of true perfection, you have said a thousand times: true perfection is unattainable.”

"If that's the case, how could Fabius possibly clone a perfect Fogrem?" "It wasn't Fabius who created your clone, but you... a part of you hidden deep within your heart, a part that even the Lord of Thirst couldn't detect, escaped the Lord of Thirst's control."

“How impressive, Fugrim. Of all the corrupted Primarchs, only you have accomplished this. You truly are worthy of your title.”

The flaming giant praised sincerely:
“Now that part has grown and returned to your body, I can feel its heat inside you, like it’s burning.”

"You're wrong again! Feralus, you're wrong again!" Forgrim's voice was shrill. "Do you want me to turn back? Do you want me to be reborn from the ashes?"

"That's impossible. I've long since lost the chance to turn back. I've fallen too deep. The Lord of Thirst has completely soaked me. I'm beyond saving."

“Of course you have no chance of turning back. The crimes you have committed are unforgivable.” The giant of fire nodded in agreement. His words were always so honest and direct: “You have also long lost the chance to be reborn from the ashes.”

But you have another option.

Fogrem gasped; he too had realized the choice he had made.

Fugen's Choice
If the phoenix cannot be reborn in the fire, then it will burn itself in the fire.

“No.” Fugrim shook his head in horror. “I can’t do it. You have no idea how much control the Lord of Thirst has over me.”

“You will be given an opportunity,” the flaming giant said in a deep voice.

As if solely to verify the words of the Fire Giant, a ripple suddenly spread through the warp.
In an instant, the influence of subspace on this region of space was greatly reduced.

Fugrim looked up in surprise at the flesh-and-blood spire not far away.
A force that shielded the subspace emanated from the stars and converged into the fleshy spire, as if suppressing something.

Is this the opportunity that Ferrus was talking about?
An opportunity.
At least for that moment, he would be perfect.
Fugen, Fugram laughed.
Death itself is a rebellion against fate and against the gods.
He will lift the giant stone and smash it against the gods, then be burned to ashes.

How perfect!
The instant the thought crossed Forgrim's mind, a scream rang out in his head.
Those corrupt, obscene, and filthy parts within him struggled and howled, dragging away Fugrim's spirit and flesh.

The figure of the Lord of Thirst loomed over Forgrim. How could this warp god allow Forgrim to escape his grasp?

Intense corruption began to erode again, engulfing Fugrim.
+Zhou Yun? +
The Lord of Thirst let out a bewildered cry, as if He had sensed something but could not believe it.

A sudden, intense hunger surged from Foghrim's stomach, as if he hadn't eaten for billions of years; it was unbearable.

The faces of the emperor's sons and phoenix sons around them also showed intense hunger, and then...
Brownish-brown rings emerged from the distant fleshy spire, layer upon layer, constantly rotating and multiplying, emitting an enticing aroma of food and a strange sense of divinity.
"What's that?" Forgrim's extraordinary vision allowed him to see the details of the brown rings.

Those brownish-red rings are made up of palm-sized, bun-shaped pastries, baked dark brown on top and still light brown on the bottom.

For some reason, Fogrem knew exactly what the dessert was after just one glance.
“Chestnut buns,” Fugrim murmured to himself.

What are you doing?! Zhou Yun!!!
A scream echoed from the warp. Almost instantly, the Lord of Thirst withdrew most of his attention from Forgrim, leaving only a portion of his power to drive the corruption within him, eroding his body and slowing his pace.
At the same time, the power left behind by the Lord of Thirst flowed into the bodies of the emperor's sons present. In just an instant, all the emperor's sons were twisted and distorted.
They either ascended to become demon princes on the spot, or were mutated into Chaos Eggs because they could not withstand the sudden influx of warp energy.

Forgrim felt his body growing weaker, more powerless, and more fragile. A single injury that had once been insignificant to him could send him back to the Warp, back to Slaanesh's palace.
At this moment, he could not even move a single step.

But he still has a chance.
On this very planet, there exists something that can completely kill him.
Fugrim looked at the flesh-and-blood spire.

"Ah!!" A scream rang out as a demon prince who had just ascended to demonhood could no longer contain his impulse and, unable to resist Slaanesh's command, charged towards Forgrim.

His sharp court sword was aimed straight at Fugen's throat.
Forgrim shifted his body slightly, but he was many times slower than usual, and the blade still managed to slash his face.

Despite the weakness and resistance within him, Fugrim raised his flaming sword and slashed at the demon prince.
The flaming sword fell, slicing into the demon prince's shoulder, but failed to kill him with a single blow.

Fugrim had to deliver a final, seemingly slow, strike to finally kill the demon prince.
But at this moment, all the Emperor's sons who had been forcibly elevated to demonic status by Slaanesh were aware of Blessed's weakness.
Aidoron licked his lips thirstily.

He wanted to kill Forgrim, not only because of Slaanesh's orders, but also because he longed to avenge the humiliation of being beheaded by Forgrim years ago, and to gain the glory of slaying a Primarch.

Without hesitation, the former emperor's son commander swung his golden hammer and smashed it down on Forgrim from behind.
Despite his longing, Aidoron was very fortunate.
Even though the Primarch is now extremely weak, he is still in grave danger.
At the same time, seeing Edoron make his move, almost all the other demon princes simultaneously rushed towards the Primarch they had just sworn allegiance to.

A sharp sonic boom ripped through the air, forcing back the demon prince who was lunging at Forgrim, and then struck at Edoron.
Aidoron had no choice but to raise his hammer to defend.
Marius, the former commander of the Third Company of the Sons of the Emperor, the first Noise Warrior, and originally a demon prince, had a contorted and twitching face. He resisted the commands left by Slaanesh within him and stood guard beside his Primarch.

“Marius? Are you insane?” Edoron cried out. “You are disobeying our master’s orders.”

“My master is first and foremost the Primarch, and only secondly the Lord of Thirst,” Marius roared, panting heavily.

His body was beginning to show signs of decay as he resisted the commands of the Lord of Thirst.

He was doomed, Marius was so certain that the Lord of Thirst would not tolerate such betrayal, and that he would surely be reduced to ashes, with no possibility of resurrection.

But he still chose to protect the Primarch.

For some reason, just now, Marius seemed to see the brilliance of ten thousand years ago emanating from Fogrem—the brilliance that once belonged to the glorious Third Legion. In an instant, Marius was reminded of his own perfectionism, of his duty as a company commander to bring every brother back alive, and of his former friend and loyal Second Company Commander, Solomon Demeter.
“Martius,” Forgrim said weakly.

“I will still fight for you, Father,” Marius said softly. He was prepared, even if he were alone.
"Phoenix Guard." Just then, Alkenes' voice suddenly rang out. The Phoenix Guard, clad in Terminator power armor and wielding power rifles, formed a line and stood guard beside Forgrim. "Protect the Primarch, protect the Phoenix."

(End of this chapter)