Perturabo's hands stopped assembling. Lin Fan could roughly make out the shape—it was probably a little figurine representing Rogal Dorn.
"But what meaning does that have? Ten thousand years have passed, and only hatred endures. I still want to smash a few hard punches into Dorn's face. Are you going to advise me not to hurt a Loyalist primarch?"
"If I could really find Dorn, I'd be happy to join you in giving that stone-headed fool a few punches."
"Unexpected... That is not what a loyal person should do."
"Indeed not, but it's good for physical and mental health. Dorn's mouth really has caused a great many unnecessary problems."
Perturabo gave a few dry laughs. Lin Fan thought he was doubting his words again and raised his hand once more, preparing to bind several beings of the Warp together in an oath.
Heaven knew how many times those beings in the Warp had sneezed because of Lin Fan's venomous vows.
Raising a hand to stop Lin Fan, Perturabo said there was no need to make him believe anything in that manner. Everything he had believed in had ultimately shattered, so he had become pragmatic. Other than action, he acknowledged nothing.
"If you had expressed the pain in your heart to The Emperor back then, he would have let your Legion rest and recover."
"Perfect steel allows not a trace of softness."
"Perfection is itself a kind of imperfection, isn't it? Without progress or exploration, it's like your gift for understanding everything with complete knowledge—once you understand everything, it becomes rather meaningless. I'll say it again: stay if you want to stay, leave if you want to leave."
After saying that, Lin Fan stood to leave. But then he remembered something and asked Perturabo a question.
"We killed all the sons