He looked at Vashtorr with a confused frown, while Vashtorr, with a look of reminiscence, pondered seriously for a moment before speaking again.
"That Mortal named Sith—where did the gun in his hand come from?"
The gun?
The confusion in Abaddon's eyes deepened, and he grew even more dissatisfied with Vashtorr's lack of focus on the task at hand.
Seeing Abaddon's obvious annoyance, Vashtorr's large red eyes flashed as he stared at Abaddon.
Though Abaddon couldn't read the expression in Vashtorr's eyes, he suspected in his heart that Vashtorr was calling him a fool.
"Fool!"
Vashtorr spoke directly.
Abaddon's eyes instantly widened, his confusion turning into rage.
"That Bolter doesn't look like it has any complex craftsmanship to me."
"But its power is bizarrely immense."
"If we can get our hands on that Bolter, I believe that with my abilities, I can definitely replicate it."
"When we equip our troops with it, we will possess a level of firepower that no other faction can hope to match!"
Vashtorr spoke quickly, and as Abaddon listened to the explanation, the anger in his eyes was gradually suppressed by this vision.
Anticipation then appeared in his eyes, but looking at the spot where Sith had disappeared, it immediately turned back into doubt.
"How? We can't even catch the guy right now."
"Are you expecting Sith to just hand it over?"
Abaddon countered, and Vashtorr's large eyes flashed red again as he stared at Abaddon.
Abaddon: "???"
Even a saint has his limits, let alone the Warmaster.
But this time, Vashtorr didn't curse at him directly; instead, he turned and walked to the side.
Abaddon looked over; it was the place where Vashtorr crafted his little gadgets.
"Why can't we let Sith hand it over himself?"
"From what I've seen, Sith always discards things casually during battle. He probably doesn't even know its value."
"I'll personally master-craft a blessed Bolter and go exchange it with him. Wouldn't that work?"
Abaddon was stunned, looking at Vashtorr with utter astonishment.
Because unlike the other dark gods, even if Vashtorr was still only a demigod, he was after all the conceptual god in charge of 'malicious machinery'.
A blessed Bolter he personally master-crafted would, at least from an equipment standpoint, be no worse than a weapon blessed by the Four Gods!
In other words, Vashtorr was prepared to use a 'conceptual artifact' he had poured his heart and soul into to exchange for that seemingly ordinary Bolter in Sith's hand.
If Abaddon hadn't also seen that the Bolter's power was indeed terrifyingly high, he might have wondered if Vashtorr's mind had been infiltrated by Tzeentch!
By now, Vashtorr had already picked up his hammer-scepter. Thick, black divine power erupted from his body, funneling through the scepter into a Bolter with a rather modest design.
Under the shroud of black light, the Bolter underwent a world-shaking transformation. Finally, as Vashtorr withdrew his scepter, looking extremely weak, he even struggled to stay upright.
Having exhausted his last bit of divine power, Vashtorr looked with great satisfaction at the solid black, conceptually-enhanced Bolter that met Imperial specifications on the outside.
Without even waiting for the wide-eyed, envious Abaddon to ask, Vashtorr began nodding to himself.
"Infinite ammunition, guaranteed hits upon firing, ignores evil sorcery, and one hundred percent penetration of psychic energy."
"The power can also be infinitely enhanced depending on how much divine power is invested."
The more Vashtorr spoke, the more satisfied he became. Finally, he even pulled back his hideous mouth into a grin, looking toward the direction where Sith had left with a look of anticipation.
"I hope my sincerity..."
"Can move Sith!"
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