Francis happened to be in the meeting room at the time, with the Soul Drinkers lined up in front of him to receive a few items.
A pink fleshy glove, a teal biological armguard, some "sun mushroom" seeds, and a large supply of growth serum.
The Soul Drinkers had never seen Francis look so serious before. After handing out the items, he continued.
"Remember, no matter where you are, when you are, or what position you're in—"
"As long as I say, 'Time to harvest the wheat,' you all do exactly as I say. Don't look back, and don't hesitate."
"This time, it's really dangerous. This isn't a joke~"
The Soul Drinkers listened solemnly, their hearts heavy after hearing his words. One of them raised a question.
"What if we kill the wrong person?"
Francis fell silent for a moment, then replied, "It's fine. There'll be plenty of people around, so no one will notice if you kill the wrong person. Just kill two more of the right ones afterward."
At that, everyone immediately relaxed. As long as it was all right to kill the wrong person, they had nothing to worry about.
Seeing their relieved expressions, Francis felt as if he might have said something wrong.
Suddenly,
the ground shook violently, and the ship made a sharp turn, sending everyone tumbling to the floor.
"What's going on?"
"Yeah, yeah! Did we run into a Xenos warship?"
"Everyone stay calm, everyone stay calm. Let's see what the Primarch says."
When they looked toward the front, Francis had somehow disappeared.
By then, Francis had already appeared on the bridge. He saw Horus and the others chasing Leman Russ's Hrafnkel.
"What's this?"
Francis's sudden appearance made Horus wary. He felt that Francis must have something to do with all this.
But after analyzing the situation, he realized that Francis hadn't transmitted any information off his ship. That was strange.
Who had guessed he would use Virus Bombs? It certainly couldn't have been Leman Russ, with his head full of food and drink.
"Hmm, I didn't expect Leman Russ to be hiding here. He just picked up the Astartes on the surface."
"But it's no use. His ship is carrying too many warriors. It's far too slow."
"Pick up speed and catch up! Open fire!"
At Horus's command, the Vengeful Spirit rapidly closed in on its target. Just as its countless cannons began charging,
Francis stole a glance at the control console. The control glove on his left hand gave a slight twitch.
With a boom, the battleship suddenly stopped.
Horus, whose eyes had been bloodshot with bloodlust, froze.
"Why have we stopped? Mechanicus repair crew, fix the malfunction at once!" Horus roared. The repair crew hurried over to appease the Machine Spirit.
Watching the Hrafnkel pull farther and farther away, Horus slammed his fist into the bulkhead.
"Damn it! What kind of rubbish does the Adeptus Mechanicus build?"
"It breaks down at the worst possible moment!"
As Horus cursed furiously, the Vengeful Spirit, which had been starting to move again, came to a complete halt.
Repair crew: "..."
One day earlier,
Tarvitz had reached the surface before the Virus Bombs.
He kicked the hatch open and immediately ran out.
"Stop fighting! Stop fighting! We've been abandoned by the Warmaster and the Primarchs!"
"They've betrayed the Imperium!"
"They're about to drop Virus Bombs!"
"Run for your lives!"
Tarvitz's shouts carried across the battlefield. When they failed to contact their ships, the warriors quickly realized he was telling the truth.
"Find cover! Move!"
"Everyone, take cover!"
At the Dreadnought's elder's command, all the Astartes fell back and searched for shelter.
At that very moment, they all received a message from Leman Russ.
"There are gas masks on the ground. Head for the dark side at once and board the Hrafnkel."
Sure enough, a large number of supply pods came raining down. The warriors hastily put on their gas masks and headed for the dark side.
Tarvitz was a little dumbfounded. Someone had beaten him to it!
As the warriors retreated, the monsters in the Choral City stared after them in confusion.
"Why did you stop playing? Wasn't it fun?"
"Wasn't it exciting enough?"
The monsters muttered to themselves. With no enemies left, they turned to other forms of indulgence, and decadent music rang throughout the Choral City.
In the center of the city, the rebel leader was cheering as well.
"Hahaha~ Thank you, ■■■■, for saving us! Thank you, god!"
But when he raised his head to give thanks, countless enormous Life-Eater Virus Bombs were already falling.
One landed right beside him.
Boom, boom, boom~
The Virus Bombs went to work at once, their infectious payloads released by the shock charges in more than a thousand explosive warheads. A highly contagious corpse-eater, the virus turned every living thing it touched into revolting, rotting sludge.
Flesh sloughed from bone. Everything fell silent in an instant, and the creatures that inhaled the virus drowned in the rotting fluid filling their own lungs.
Plants melted into brown-black muck, their lives brought to an end.
Even those creatures already corrupted could not escape it. No organic life could.
In the blink of an eye, the city became a gigantic tombstone, stripped of all color. Not even a single cry of anguish was heard. The planet's eight billion indigenous humans vanished where they stood.
The plains and forests crumbled into rotting mud, while the oceans turned to green sludge.
The shrieking spiritual deaths of those eight billion people blazed through the Warp, bringing unbridled delight to certain entities.
From the ships, Istvaan III looked like an apple rotting at an incredible speed, hanging in the void.
"Damn it! They're monsters!"
"The Primarchs have joined forces to betray the Emperor!"
"If not for the Space Wolves' battleship, we'd have rotted like those apples!"
The temporary leaders of several Legions gathered, watching the scene with fury. They decided to reclaim their Legions' old names. They refused to share a name with the rebel Astartes!
As they emerged from the dark side, they spotted the enemy ships. Leman Russ felt the pressure mounting, too.
Two against one—the advantage was theirs!
Just as the Vengeful Spirit and Pride of the Emperor were about to catch up with him,
suddenly,
the Vengeful Spirit slammed on the brakes, stopping dead in space.
Leman Russ's eyes immediately lit up.
"Raise all shields! Take the Pride of the Emperor's attack head-on! Make for the Warp at full speed!"
Rumble—
Under the Pride of the Emperor's ferocious barrage, the Hrafnkel shook violently, then shot into the Warp.
Watching the Hrafnkel disappear, Horus took a deep breath and asked, "Is it fixed?"
"Not yet. The Machine Spirit is being temperamental. It'll take a little longer." Oil kept beading on the Adeptus Mechanicus repairman's forehead.
"Ah..."
Horus seemed to have aged several years in an instant. Then he remembered that if two Gloriana-class battleships had pursued the enemy, they surely wouldn't have let them escape.
But when he turned to check their position, he saw that the Conqueror was still near Istvaan III, and hadn't moved at all.
His anger flared. He roared, "What the hell are Angron and his World Eaters doing?"
There was nothing for it.
In the end, the Pride of the Emperor had to tow the Vengeful Spirit back.
When they finally made contact with the Conqueror, all they heard from the other end was the sound of fighting.
"You're talking out of your ass! Why should you be in command of the World Eaters Legion? Who do you think you are?"
"Kossolax, watch your mouth! You're not fit for the job!"
"Leowen, who the hell are you to lecture me? You think you're qualified?"
"Enough bickering! Could any of you beat Lord Kharn? You're not fit to challenge him!"
"So you're his lapdog, then? Get him!"
Horus listened to the voices coming from the other end, then looked at Francis expressionlessly. "What's going on?"
Francis shrugged. "Don't look at me. You're the Warmaster, not me!"
Before you continue