In Curze's persuasion and explanation, the Primarchs understood what he meant. Against the emotion-born Demons of the Warp, weapons based on physical laws found it difficult to harm them. Warriors needed the blessing of occult power.
Mortarion, who hated psychic powers and all manner of occult nonsense more than anyone among the Primarchs, voiced his objection. "Never mind how useful this last-minute prayer might be. If praying really grants us some strange power, how can we be sure it comes from our father? What if it's a poisoned apple sent by the gods?"
"Tell by the color. Golden light is his power."
"Spreading faith now is simply a waste of time. We might as well spend the time chanting scriptures on producing shells..." Ferrus shook his head, feeling that Curze's proposal was creating trouble out of thin air and would only needlessly waste their energy.
"Trying is better than not trying. It doesn't matter if you don't believe. The Warp doesn't need your faith. It only needs you to have such a concept in your minds."
"So what you mean is, as long as we keep chanting 'Long live the God-Emperor' and 'God-Emperor protect us,' power will really descend?" Magnus asked as well. The method Curze had proposed was beyond his knowledge. Curze must have reached this conclusion by analyzing the scenes in his prophecies.
Clap clap clap...
Horus slapped the table. "Whether it works or not, we do it first. Spread the Book of Holy Words throughout the entire army at once. Every Space Marine must be able to recite it backward and forward. Replace ordinary slogans like 'For the Emperor' and 'For the Imperium' with 'Long live the God-Emperor.' We need support, however insignificant it may be."
"That's right. Do it first."
Sanguinius closed his eyes and pondered