Interesting Anecdotes on the Return Journey

"So, do you believe this order?" Francis asked.

Leman Russ closed his eyes in pain and said, "Facing an order, there's nothing to believe or not believe. We must execute it unconditionally!"

"I'm sorry, Magnus!"

Magnus immediately prepared for battle and growled, "I cannot accept this order! They are all my children!"

"Give up, Magnus."

"With so many Adeptus Custodes and Sisters of Silence here, you have no chance!"

Leman Russ drew "Russ's Spear." He had to stop Magnus, because he knew no one else could!

At this tense moment, Francis stepped forward.

"How about we eat first, then fight?"

Leman Russ: "...!"

Magnus: "..."

The scene shifted to the ship's mess hall.

Two roasted Bulls were placed before Leman Russ, entire mountains of meat. Leman Russ roughly tore into the beef and handed Magnus a leg.

"I don't eat beef," Magnus refused.

The atmosphere was awkward for a moment, but thankfully Francis was there. Before him sat a two-hundred-year-old grain-fed roast steak, with his newly developed beverage to his right.

"I've had the Soul Drinkers bring over the Thousand Sons Legion. They should be here soon."

Hearing this, Leman Russ put down his beef, his expression turning grim. "Francis, are you also going to disobey the Emperor's command?"

"How could I! I already said on the way, this is an order that Horus altered using the Warmaster's authority." Francis rubbed his temples. Leman Russ was like a stubborn, hard rock on this point.

And the kind of rock that was hard when it shouldn't be, and soft when it shouldn't be!

"Hmph! We Space Wolves only know that we must complete the mission the Emperor has given us!" Leman Russ bit down hard on a piece of beef tendon.

"Even if it's the Emperor's command, it's not necessarily always right!" Francis retorted.

"Francis, watch your words! How can you say such heretical things!" An Adeptus Custodes nearby immediately became displeased and berated Francis.

"Oh? And who might you be, Mr. Adeptus Custodes?" Francis found it amusing; the arrogance of the Adeptus Custodes was truly hard to hide.

"I am Trajann Valoris, Captain of the Adeptus Custodes' Shield Captains." Valoris raised his head proudly. In his heart, becoming an Adeptus Custodes was the greatest honor.

And honor came from the Emperor, so Francis's words, in effect, were calling him fallible.

"To be a Captain at such a young age, impressive, impressive," Francis applauded.

Then, changing his tone, Francis continued, "The ancients said, 'To err is human!' meaning that as long as one is human, they will make mistakes."

"Unless they are a god!"

"So you're saying the Emperor is not human, but a god!"

Hearing this, both Leman Russ and Valoris felt a jolt in their hearts!

Because in their minds, the Emperor was a god.

Then they heard Francis continue, "So, are you going to defy the Imperial Truth established by the Emperor! You are going to betray the Emperor, you are going to be heretics!"

Instantly.

Leman Russ and Valoris's faces turned deathly pale, and they muttered, "I'm going to betray the Emperor? How is that possible. But I..."

Magnus looked at Francis with adoration, the seeds of worship quietly sown in his heart.

Just as the two were lost in self-doubt, the Astartes of the Thousand Sons Legion arrived, confused as to why they were summoned.

"Think about it, if the Emperor wanted to eliminate the Thousand Sons Legion, what would be the reason?"

Upon hearing Francis's words, the Thousand Sons Legion looked nervously at Magnus, who didn't know how to respond. They just stared at each other.

"It's because the Thousand Sons Legion's flesh-change mutations are too severe, that's why the Emperor is doing this, right!"

The two, already drawn in, subconsciously nodded. Then Francis revealed a sinister smile. "Heh heh, then it's easy to judge whether the Emperor was right or wrong."

"Thousand Sons Legion, disarm! All of you, disarm!"

The Thousand Sons Legion looked confused: "???"

"Disarm! Disarm!"

"What are you waiting for? Disarm when told to disarm!"

Magnus shouted anxiously, feeling in his gut that this was the right thing to do.

Finally.

The entire Thousand Sons Legion, in the mess hall, stripped naked and stood there impeccably.

"Look up! Do these Astartes have flesh-change mutations? Are they not the Empire's finest warriors!"

As he spoke, Francis looked at the Soul Drinkers, who were watching the spectacle, and conveyed information with his eyes: they were even better Imperial warriors.

The Soul Drinkers saw this and stood even straighter, beaming.

When Leman Russ and Varro looked at the others, besides some very deep scars, their bodies were completely normal, with no signs of mutation whatsoever.

"So, if this is the Emperor's command, then the Emperor is wrong?" the two murmured, their eyes filled with more confusion.

"Besides, isn't losing a Primarch a mistake?"

Francis's words were like a sharp sword, piercing their hooks, hurting them so much they couldn't speak.

"And was choosing Horus as Warmaster the right decision? Didn't he also betray us?"

"If the Emperor had chosen you, Leman Russ, as Warmaster, none of this would have happened!"

Hearing this, Leman Russ's mind immediately cleared, and he mused, "Francis, you have a point. Let's take them back and see what's going on."

Magnus immediately breathed a sigh of relief, and the Astartes of the Thousand Sons Legion also relaxed.

Varro, still lost in confusion, wanted to say something more.

Francis cut him off, "The Emperor sent you to protect me, that is your only mission."

"Aren't you fine now?" Varro asked, confused.

"Nonsense! I'm not fine at all, my stomach hurts so much."

"Ouch, my stomach hurts, my legs hurt, my feet hurt, my whole body hurts."

Francis quickly winked at Magnus. The slow-to-react Magnus immediately shouted.

"Apothecary! Medic! Quickly, the Primarch is collapsing!"

With the amplification of psychic abilities, the sound immediately spread throughout the entire battlecruiser.

In the blink of an eye, Francis, who was faking his illness, was surrounded by a group of people and carried away. The Adeptus Custodes and the Sisters of Silence also followed.

After all, their mission was to protect Francis.

As for eliminating the Thousand Sons Legion? Who cared about that anymore!

Leman Russ, having figured everything out, took out the Ork grog Francis had brewed for him.

He sat alone in the dining hall, enjoying a feast.

Upon reaching the med-bay, they tried every method but couldn't find out what was wrong with Francis.

The group milled about like headless chickens.

Francis feigned weakness and said slowly, "These are old ailments. They used to be relieved by the healing methods on that planet."

"Primarch, tell us, what method is it? We'll find the materials and get them for you right now!" Varro said anxiously.

If anything were to go wrong, he would have failed the Emperor's expectations and disgraced the Adeptus Custodes.

"Okay, I need a basin of hot water, a towel, and a few people with smooth palms," Francis said slowly.

"That's all? It doesn't require any special materials," Varro said, a little confused.

"This is an ancient ritual. I'll teach them how to do it myself when the time comes. No one else can come in to disturb us, or the consequences will be severe."

Hearing Francis speak so mysteriously, Varro didn't dare to ask more questions, assuming it must be some very ancient technique.

Varro hurried off to find suitable candidates.

After seeing them leave, Francis sat up.

"After all this running around, it's time to relax!"