Abaddon: I'm Too Powerful!

Looking at the pitch-black Hell Beast, Fulgrim felt as though his mind had frozen for a moment.

Abaddon?

That was Chaos Warmaster Abaddon?

How had he ended up like this?

Who did this? How cruel.

Abaddon might have been a bit weak, a bit useless, a bit undefeated in a hundred battles, a bit unworthy of his position, and a bit prone to screwing over his teammates, but he was still the publicly acknowledged leader of all Chaos Astartes, the commander of a million rebel armies. How had he ended up stuffed inside a Hell Beast?

"Dear nephew! Who turned you into this?"

"Tell your uncle! I'll avenge you!"

Fulgrim shouted at Abaddon.

It was both an involuntary outburst and a deliberate provocation imitating Zhou Yun's manner of speaking.

Fulgrim had previously noticed that Zhou Yun's way of speaking was remarkably effective at provoking and enraging enemies.

And Hell Beasts themselves endured unimaginable pain, making them even more prone to anger and losing their minds.

Abaddon let out a shrill battle cry laced with pain.

Fulgrim bore at least half the responsibility for his miserable state.

It was Fulgrim who had tortured Abaddon into this wretched state, allowing Vash'tor to forcibly stuff him into a Hell Beast and cast him into this endless hell of suffering.

The moment he had seen Fulgrim, he had been unable to suppress the hatred in his heart, interrupting the corruption of Fulgrim by the Ecstatic Perception Domain Daemon "Poppy" residing in his body.

The old-fashioned machine gun hanging from Abaddon's left hand lowered slightly. The point of the eight-pointed star representing the Domains of Vicious Artistry lit up, and orange-yellow bullets instantly became a dense rain of fire aimed at Fulgrim and the Sons of the Emperor following at his side.

Those bullets were