You paid no heed to Ferrus's slight verbal mockery.
You cared more about ensuring that the Loyalists could escape this battlefield that was about to become a living hell.
You took a deep breath.
You immediately signaled for Corvus, standing beside you, to step forward and explain the crucial information you had brought to Ferrus, the battlefield's overall commander.
With a grave expression, Corvus told Ferrus everything: that you had come from the future, that Istvan V was a trap laid by Horus, and that the Legions sent as reinforcements afterward had all turned traitor.
Yet Ferrus's reaction was as unyielding as his indestructible Iron Hands. Corvus's words stirred no emotion in him whatsoever.
"We Primarchs are the Emperor's loyal offspring. We were born to face countless desperate battlefields! Do you think the Iron Hands never encountered such situations during the Great Crusade? With three Legions and two hundred thousand Astartes combined, can we not turn this entire battle around and make Horus's trap into a furnace for destroying traitors?"
Ferrus stared at you coldly as he spoke in a deep voice.
One of his metal hands unconsciously gripped the Sword of Flame hanging at his waist.
"Besides, I have a personal grievance to settle with Fulgrim face-to-face! If you are unwilling to let your offspring suffer casualties, you may withdraw from Istvan V in advance. As the battlefield's overall commander, I will not interfere with any decision you make!"
Yet just as Ferrus finished speaking,
you completely ignored the calming gestures Corvus and Vulkan were making toward you.
Your massive body immediately drove the gold-glimmering Vibranium Power Armor forward.
Standing slightly more than a head taller than him, you looked down at Ferrus's resolute face and spoke in a mocking tone.
"Do you think all the Astartes can safely