Healing the Sick and Saving the Dying!

"Protecting my people, isn't that too much!" Francis touched his chin and pointed forward.

Following the direction of his finger, they saw over two hundred people swarming, not only including Adeptus Custodes but also Sisters of Silence.

"Let's go, let's go. What are you looking at them for?"

"The Adeptus Custodes will never understand the Emperor like a Primarch!"

Leman Russ grabbed Francis and pulled him inside. He had been looking forward to it, but seeing the Adeptus Custodes made him somewhat agitated.

Finally, they set foot on the road to Prospero.

And, nearby, several Thousand Sons Legion Chief Librarians witnessed all of this completely.

"What should we do? They seem to be going to Prospero." Everyone looked at Ahriman; he was the backbone of everyone at this moment.

Ahriman pondered for a moment and analyzed, "As you all saw, we are not the only psykers returning this time; there are also powerful psykers from other Legions."

"So, are we doing nothing?"

Looking at the anxious eyes of everyone, Ahriman took a deep breath. He decided to do something against the Emperor's will. "There are just enough of us to transmit a message to a Primarch once!"

"Good!"

Everyone was shocked, but they still accepted the proposal.

Such long-distance information transmission, even for battle-hardened Chief Librarians, could easily lead to irreversible problems.

The group secretly moved away from the Terra Imperial Palace and came to a remote cave.

Dozens of Thousand Sons Chief Librarians formed a circle, eyes closed, faces contorted in ferocity, and an indescribable energy fluctuation permeated the air.

Ahriman, at the center, slowly raised his hands, countless veins bulging on his forehead. His eyes suddenly opened, emitting a dazzling blue light, a sign that the psychic power within him had reached its peak.

He took a deep breath and began to chant an ancient and complex incantation, each syllable echoing in space like a musical note, weaving a psychic path to Prospero.

As the incantation deepened, the energy fluctuations within the cave grew stronger, as if the entire space were trembling.

Suddenly.

"Primarch, the Emperor commands the Adeptus Custodes to find you!"

A dazzling beam of light erupted from Ahriman's hands, turning into a thin beam that pierced the cave, shot straight into the sky, and then disappeared into the air.

Before everyone could relax, the voices of the Adeptus Custodes came from outside. "Listen up inside, you have violated the Emperor's law!"

"We give you..."

Before the other party could finish speaking, several screams came from their side.

A Chief Librarian exploded on the spot with a bang. On the other side, another Chief Librarian lay on the ground in agony, flesh and blood writhing out of the gaps in his armor.

A strange odor filled the scene, and indescribable whispers reached everyone's ears.

On the Hrafnkel.

Francis was educating his offspring—the Soul Drinkers Legion.

"I'm telling you, the purpose of combat is to defeat the enemy!"

"So! This is different from a fair and square duel!"

"Come! Let's use the Orks as an example!"

Just then, the battleship suddenly vibrated violently, and red lights indicating psychic warnings lit up indoors.

Then, in space, a dazzling blue light quickly swept past the battleship and finally disappeared into the distance, entering the Warp.

"Wake up! Stop daydreaming!" Francis patted the podium, and the Soul Drinkers below snapped back to attention.

"Let's use the Orks as an example..."

With a bang, the conference room door was opened, and several Adeptus Custodes rushed in!

Their stern expressions, coupled with their ultra-long golden helmets, made Francis feel like he was looking at a bunch of giant corn cobs.

"Get out! Get out now!"

"Whoever dares to interrupt my meeting today, I'll let them feel the power of technology!"

As he spoke, Francis pulled out a tube filled with a black, viscous substance from behind him. Even without touching the liquid, they felt a chill run through their bodies!

The arrogant Adeptus Custodes could only obediently walk out and close the door.

"Perfect! I can use this serum as an example too! This is a super strong acid cultivated from the blood of the Viskian people, and even ordinary ceramite can be corroded by it!"

As he spoke, Francis smiled and shook the serum in his hand.

In the eyes of the Soul Drinkers, their Primarch didn't look like a good person.

"I was talking about the Orks just now, yes, that's right, the Orks." Thinking of this, Francis couldn't help but nod.

"Orks are opponents who only know how to charge at the enemy with war cries."

"So, there's no need for close combat at all!"

"We just need to frantically scatter Growth Serum and then shine a strong light!"

Seeing Francis didn't continue speaking, the captivated crowd quickly pressed him. "And then? What happened next?"

"What happened next? We immediately set the place on fire!"

"Before they could react, we doused them with this super acid!"

"If they were still alive, we'd hit them with everything – Bolter Grenade Launcher, Multi-Melta, the works!"

"If we can sneak attack, we don't go head-on!"

"When the enemy is tired, we strike..."

Listening to the combat techniques Francis was teaching them, the warriors of the Soul Drinkers Legion felt they had benefited greatly!

As expected of a Primarch!

After an actual combat drill and a theoretical supplement, the Soul Drinkers Legion truly admired Francis and took pride in him.

Next, Francis began to check their physical conditions.

First was Salpador. Francis took the blood sample from him and took a small sip.

Upon entering his mouth, there was a hint of sweet saltiness at first, followed by a slightly viscous middle, and finally, an undetectable foul odor at the end.

"For the time being, don't use your Psykers. You're showing clear signs of trouble!"

Francis shot Salpador a glare. He also sensed that the mutation in his flesh and blood was quite severe, with his body clearly being forcibly mutated with spider-like genes.

"Come with me next door, I'll deal with it first!"

Francis stood up, picked up his case, and walked towards the door.

"Why..."

Salpador was about to ask when he saw Francis's darkened face.

It was a shame he didn't ask. He would soon find out.

Not long after the two left, incredibly miserable screams could be heard from the adjacent room!

"Ahhhhhh!"

Keep in mind, these were Astartes warriors who had undergone physical modifications since their youth.

Their tolerance for pain was extraordinarily high.

To put it bluntly, Astartes could barely feel pain.

Yet, just hearing the sounds made their scalps tingle. They couldn't comprehend the terrifying treatment Salpador was currently enduring!

In reality, it wasn't much.

Francis simply cut off all the deformed flesh and skin on Salpador's body.

If his bones had mutated, he would break them, remove them, and then use Growth Serum to rapidly grow new limbs and flesh.

Simultaneously, during the growth of the flesh, he would fine-tune Salpador's genes, knocking out or modifying the mutated gene sequences.

Once the new tissues had fully grown, if there was still any deformity, he would repeat the process.

Until the degree of mutation was reduced to a certain level.

Francis: "Why do you have a bunch of grapes growing on you!"

"No!!!"

Unfortunately, slice went the knife!

Francis would then use a special gene supplement made from his own blood, injecting it into the other's body.

In fact, in previous experiments, Francis had discovered the unique nature of his own genes.

Most people, when faced with fused mutated genes or other genes, would selectively coexist with them, maintaining their independence.

Francis's genes were different.

His genes contained a special type that would assimilate foreign genes, ensuring the purity of his own genetic makeup.

Simply put, he could fuse with other genes without worrying about flesh mutation.

Therefore, he needed the recipient's body to have a relatively clean gene map before injection.

Cutting to cure!

In just half an hour, everyone sat on pins and needles, their bodies constantly sending out danger signals, urging them to flee.

Half an hour later, Salpador, visibly smaller, returned to the conference room with trembling legs.

"Next!"

Prospero.

A dazzling blue light appeared out of thin air in the star system where Prospero was located, then pierced through the clouds and gradually flew towards the City of Light, Tizca.

Finally, it plunged into the golden pyramid of light at the center of Tizca, landing directly in Magnus's hand as he was meditating.

Information opened.

[Primarch, the Emperor has ordered a large number of Adeptus Custodes to eliminate you!]