When Sevatar's words, "I surrender," fell, everyone present, including the Imperial Fists, was stunned.
Even the Son of Dorn suspected something was wrong with his Leman's Ear.
The black-armored guards had brought down all the mortal auxiliaries, yet, in a rare show of restraint, had not killed them outright. These well-equipped mortals had merely suffered minor injuries and temporarily lost control of their bodies.
They stared fixedly at the traitors in bewilderment, unable to understand why they were still alive.
"Lies!" roared the leading Imperial Fist. Acidic saliva even sprayed before Sevatar, etching tiny pits into the metal deck.
These elite Imperial Fists were not hastily raised troops from Cthonia. Their corrosive salivary glands and Suss-an membranes were both functioning normally.
"You will not deceive the Son of Dorn with your vile lies! Shameful rebels, from the moment you abandoned the Emperor, we ceased to be brothers."
"Kill me, if you retain even a shred of dignity and honor. Just as you once fought our Black Knights in the gladiatorial arenas."
The Imperial Fists' bones were truly unyielding. He stubbornly craned his neck, insisting that Sevatar kill him.
They would rather die than become shameful prisoners.
The Prince of Crows was speechless at these stubborn cousins of his, but there was nothing he could do. Only the primarchs and people like Lox knew that Curze had returned to the right path. These low-ranking Imperial Fist Astartes naturally had no way of knowing.
Curze's mission was top secret. Thus, in the Empire's current understanding, the Night Lords and Konrad Curze remained utterly wicked arch-traitors who had to be killed.
"Listen, you stone-headed fools. I told you—I surrender."
Sevatar repeated himself, but they still glared at him as if they wanted to devour him alive. Their teeth nearly bit through their lips,