The lightless Denkōmaru sliced through the air.
Be'lakor only saw a faint grey streak aiming at him, and the next moment, a sharp pain surged through him.
A bloody gash suddenly appeared on his chest, and thick blood gushed out.
Be'lakor hastily raised the Shadow Blade in his hand to block, but somehow, the pink flower ropes emerged from the void again, instantly coiling around his arm.
This delayed his movements.
Be'lakor wasn't unable to break free from the strange flower ropes'bondage, but it required him to exert his strength and use his Shadow Authority to barely achieve it, and Nobita clearly didn't intend to give Be'lakor that chance.
The lightless toy blade shot straight towards Be'lakor's head.
Be'lakor hurriedly opened his gaping maw, spewing cold, dark flames that collided with the toy blade.
The toy blade easily cut through Be'lakor's flames, heading straight for Be'lakor's face.
The sound of flesh being cut rang out, and Be'lakor's face was brutally slashed open, blood flowing freely.
But fortunately, at this moment, Erebus uttered a blasphemous incantation, and the tides of the Warp surged. Be'lakor immediately felt the blessings from the Four Gods within him ascend another level, and a sudden surge of power filled his body.
It was with this power that Be'lakor broke free from the flower ropes' restraint at the last moment, allowing shadows to engulf him, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished from Nobita's sight.
Erebus panted, his face pale. This was one of his domains, allowing those destined to be chosen by the Gods to borrow his power from the future or the past.
Back then, he had used this very trick to allow Abaddon to prematurely enjoy the blessings of the Gods, briefly contending with the Custodian General Constantin Valdor.
Now, this spell was also cast upon Be'lakor.
But Be'lakor wasn't borrowing power from the future, but from the past.
The power of the past Be'lakor, who was completely favored by the Gods, manifested at this moment.
Even with the shackles imposed by the Gods still present, Be'lakor was infinitely close to his former self before this spell ended.
Shadows writhed, and he reappeared from within them, but his body was larger, more grotesque, and more like the manifestation of the concept of shadow in the material universe.
His former power began to revive, Be'lakor spread his wings, and shadows instantly enveloped the entire ship's cabin, like a twisted, cold, and dark vortex devouring the real universe, and Be'lakor was the core of that vortex.
"Now, I lack nothing." Be'lakor laughed heartily, the restoration of his former power bringing him immense pleasure.
But Be'lakor's laughter abruptly stopped, because Nobita gently placed his hand on the revolver at his waist.
The powerful precognitive ability granted to Be'lakor by Tzeentch reacted, and Be'lakor felt an irresistible sense of death, a strong feeling of danger.
That revolver only needed a light pull of the trigger to kill him. Be'lakor instinctively realized this.
Facing Be'lakor's fear, Nobita merely curved his lips into a smile.
"You're not worthy," Nobita said, then swung the lightless blade at Be'lakor.
Be'lakor couldn't dodge in time, and another bloody gash was carved into his face by the lightless Denko-Maru.
The bullets transformed from the old crone sword were precious, and Nobita only had three left in his clip. How could they be wasted on a weakling like Be'lakor?
If possible, Alexander would prefer these three bullets to be given to the other three gods, one each, or at the very least, used on entities of the caliber of the Great Devourer, C'tan, or Vashtorr. Wasting them on Be'lakor would be too much of a loss.
Be'lakor was suddenly pierced in the cheek by a sword, and then heard Nobita's dismissive words, instantly filling his heart with anger.
He flickered, diving into the shadows, and in a blink of an eye, reappeared by Nobita's side, his Shadow Blade cutting through the air, carrying a surging, cold tide that swept towards the revolver at Nobita's waist.
Although Nobita said Be'lakor wasn't worthy of him using that revolver, Be'lakor still feared it, lest he be sent to his death by a single shot from it.
In Be'lakor's opinion, who could stand against him now that he was infinitely close to his former peak, especially with no Primarchs present?
Even those Primarchs who hadn't grasped their true essence could only delay him until Erebus' spell wore off.
In Be'lakor's view, the only thing that could threaten him was that revolver — wait, what the hell?!
A toy dagger blocked Be'lakor's path, not the lightless toy dagger, but a dagger with a faint golden glow.
Denkōmaru, electric version.
The Denkōmaru effortlessly blocked Be'lakor's full-power strike.
And the lightless Denko-Maru in the other hand took the opportunity to stab out. Be'lakor couldn't dodge in time, and another bloody gash was carved into his body.
Be'lakor once again retreated into the shadows, only to emerge from another direction, where the electric Denkōmaru was conveniently blocking his path again.
He tried again, and it was still the same. Be'lakor's pupils slightly constricted; he realized something was wrong.
His current power came from Erebus' spell, and the spell had a duration. Once it expired, he wouldn't be able to defeat this Nobita.
Be'lakor grew increasingly irritable, trying even harder to break through the blockade of the glowing Denko-Maru.
He had learned about some common Doraemon gadgets from Erebus, and this toy knife was among them.
Be'lakor knew that these toy knives would run out of battery—
Nobita gently lifted his upper clothing, revealing a row of gleaming Denko-Maru tucked underneath, and other gadgets were faintly visible.
Be'lakor's expression stiffened.
Erebus watched this scene and couldn't help but sigh, 'As expected of Saint Doraemon, truly extraordinary power.'
But Erebus didn't care about Be'lakor's fate; he only needed to answer the last question, clear the game, and he would be free to act again.
Luther must also be close to gathering enough Fallen Angels to resummon the ouroboros, combined with the plagueheart he had already acquired.
He only needed to go to the Rock, and Erebus would find a way to reunite the three divine artifacts of the old ones.
He rushed towards the bridge door almost without hesitation—
A sudden pain shot through his leg as a flower rope pierced his thigh, and more flower ropes surged towards him from all directions.
Erebus' pupils suddenly contracted, barely having time to block, as the flower ropes violently pierced through Erebus' body.
Fate twisted and turned, and another Wrestling Eagle Person died in Erebus' place.
But the moment Erebus' figure appeared beside the Wrestling Eagle Person, the countless flower ropes surged towards him again.
Erebus' pupils constricted, but at that moment, shadows writhed, and a Caliban Greatsword suddenly thrust out from the shadows, blocking between Erebus and the sky-filled flower ropes.
In the void, the roar of Warp jump sounded, and several warships warped into existence, suspended in the cold void.
The ships looked weathered, but all had been repainted in deep black, bearing numerous symbols of the former First Legion, as if stubbornly proclaiming their identity.
The moment these ships arrived in the star system, they wanted to unleash their firepower on Alexander's Light Lord.
But before they could act, the void vibrated, and the sound of Warp jump echoed again. The Conqueror, looking like dried blood, tore through the veil of reality, its grotesque prow thrusting directly at the ships bearing the First Legion's insignia, engaging them in battle.
Accompanying them were a large number of World Eaters ships.
Kossolax on the Conqueror looked at the Light Lord's sudden appearance on the augur and fell into confusion.
He had been hunting the Fallen Angels and Luther according to Alexander's orders, but Luther seemed to be afraid of him, always on the run. Kossolax had thought Luther feared the Conqueror, that great Gloriana-class Battleship.
But the current situation confused Kossolax. Why would the Fallen Angels and Luther run here, to the battlefield of the Light Lord and the Blessed Lady?
Walking into a trap?
The battle on the Blessed Lady also changed. Hundreds of Fallen Angels emerged from the shadows, blocking the Ultramarines and Flesh Tearers.
These warriors wore dark armor, winged helmets, and symbols of the former First Legion, wielding greatswords, standing like an unyielding wall on the battlefield.
Leading them was a daemon Prince with the head of a lion.
The Flesh Tearers and Ultramarines were equally bewildered.
What was the situation with this group of warriors who suddenly appeared, looking like Dark Angels?
When did the Dark Angels chapter get such a contingent of people?
Why were they siding with the traitors?
How were they with a daemon Prince?
Could there be traitors among the Sons of Lion?!
Erebus panted, looking at the gloomy black-armored warrior who was currently swinging his blade to block the flower ropes, and a look of joy immediately appeared on his face.
Luther, the leader of the Fallen Angels, and the second-in-command of the Dark Angels chapter, had joined the battle.
"Luther, have you gathered enough Fallen Angels to summon the ouroboros?"
"No, still quite a few short," Luther said faintly.
Erebus was stunned: "Then why are you back now?"
"Did you discover I was in danger?" Erebus asked himself.
"I knew you were going to be in danger, but not this danger," Luther's tone was a little strange.
"What do you mean?"
"I reported your coordinates to the Dark Angels chapter."
"I said you were hiding a large number of Fallen Angels and still had the video tapes from the Fall of Caliban."
"The Rock Fortress should be arriving soon. I was afraid they'd kill you, so I rushed back."
Listening to Luther's words, Erebus tilted his head slightly, completely failing to grasp the meaning of Luther's words.