Because He Was Vulkan

News from the Salamanders boarding assault team quickly reached the Primarch through the company captains.

The Lord of Drakes, who had been chatting and laughing with Tassa while discussing the next strategic deployment with his combat staff, seemed like a red-hot piece of metal being hammered on an anvil before being plunged into a cooling pool, instantly turning cold.

Vulkan did not roar like Leman Russ, nor did he randomly execute one of his sons like Perturabo.

Every Salamander present could clearly feel the unprecedentedly terrifying fury brewing within their father.

It felt like the calm before Nocturne's ultimate trial, which came once every fifteen years.

Vulkan's scarlet pupils continuously radiated light. Not a single Astartes dared meet the Primarch's gaze; it would burn even their souls to ashes.

"This is a trap, Father," Chief Apothecary Tassa said gravely.

When he saw that horrifying footage, Tassa too found it difficult to suppress his anger.

The sons of Vulkan had inherited their Primarch's kindness and innocence. They loved all humanity equally.

They would even sacrifice their precious lives in exchange for the life of a single ordinary human.

Most Astartes from the other Legions could not understand the foolish ideas of these cousins of theirs.

The resources required to create one Astartes were more than hundreds of thousands of times what an ordinary human required.

Trading an Astartes for an ordinary human was, no matter how one looked at it, an utterly ruinous bargain.

"Yes, I understand. It is a very clumsy conspiracy, one that any experienced commander could see through at a glance."

"They are exploiting our humanity, exploiting our virtues, trying to make us do something irrational."

Vulkan looked around at the crowd. He was gratified that his sons shared the same hatred for the enemy while still being