Warhammer: Become a Saint Starting with the Banner of Souls

"Senior citizens!"

The surrounding space wolves shouted in unison.

The shouts were filled with unconcealed grief.

"outrageous."

A deep, authoritative voice came from the loudspeaker of the Dreadnought.

But there was no anger in that rebuke.

"You should be happy for me."

"It's been twelve hundred years, and I can finally rest. Do you know what it feels like to be stuffed in this iron can? I couldn't move my hands, I couldn't move my feet, I didn't even have a nose, and I hadn't smelled alcohol for five hundred years. You should be happy for me, not here with long faces."

Nobody could laugh.

Broad didn't seem to expect them to laugh either.

After a moment of silence, the head of the fearless mech laboriously tilted upwards a few degrees.

It is looking at the sky.

The sky above Kadia was a chaotic mess, with the crimson light of the Eye of Terror dominating half the firmament. Storms from the warp churned in the clouds, and occasionally the wreckage of a Chaos warship streaked across the horizon, trailing flames.

This is not the sky of Fenris.

What is the sky like in Fenris?

It is a deep indigo blue, studded with countless stars.

On nights when the aurora appears, the sky is painted with a magnificent tapestry of green and purple, and the curtain of light dances above the ice field, making the entire snowfield glow with a faint, ethereal light.

That was the last time Broad saw the sky with his own eyes, real, flesh-and-blood eyes.

He remembered that night.

The aurora is especially beautiful.

He stood outside the camp, holding a glass of mead in his hand. It was a specialty of Fenrir, brewed with honey from ice bees and volcanic spring water. It was sweet and refreshing on the palate, with a spicy aftertaste. After drinking one glass, it felt like a fire was burning in his chest.

He still remembers the taste of that mead.

Five hundred years have passed, and he still hasn't forgotten.

"Ah... I long to see the sky over Fenris one more time..."

A long sigh came from the loudspeaker of the Dreadnought.

"I really want... another glass of Fenris mead..."

After saying this, the head of the Dreadnought slowly lowered.

The light from the two eyepieces dimmed rapidly.

The electrical noise in the loudspeaker is getting weaker and weaker.

Then--

silence.

Complete silence.

The fearless mech came to a standstill.

It knelt on the battlefield, head bowed, like a tombstone forged of steel. This old soldier closed his eyes for the first time after twelve hundred years of fighting.

"Senior citizens--!"

Jill Iron Wolf suddenly clenched Fearless's hand.

But he didn't shout a second time.

because--

Behind him, the first wolf howl rang out.

The wolf howl came from a young Bloodclaw.

He looked up at the sky and let out a long and mournful howl.

A second wolf howl followed immediately afterward.

Then comes the third tone, the fourth tone, and the fifth tone.

One cry after another, rising and falling, more and more space wolves joined the howling.

The gray hunters looked up at the sky and let out a low, drawn-out howl.

Even the most taciturn veterans opened their mouths at this moment, turning their grief into the oldest way the Son of Fenris bid farewell.

Dozens of wolf howls intertwined, forming a desolate yet heroic elegy that echoed beneath the shattered sky of Cadia.

Amidst the howls of wolves, the wolf priest of Iron Wolf Dalian slowly stepped forward.

He wore a suit of black power armor adorned with numerous bone ornaments and runes, his helmet decorated with a massive wolf bone mask, and a rosary made from the spines of his enemies hanging from his waist.

In the Space Wolves system, the Wolf Priests have the dual identity of priests and military priests. They are both guardians of the genetic seeds and guides for the souls of the dead.

He stood before fearlessness and raised his right hand.

The wolf howls gradually subsided.

A solemn silence returned to the battlefield.

"Fenris's icy winds, take away this warrior's soul."

"His conquest of the mortal realm is over. For twelve hundred winters, he fought for Ruth, for Fenris, for All Father. His axe drank the blood of orcs, his fists shattered the carapaces of tyrant worms, and his roars shook back the demons of Chaos."

"Today, he laid down his weapons."

"It's not because of cowardice, but because he has nothing left to fight."

"Let him return to the halls of Fenris. Let him sit at the Father's long table, drink the strongest mead, and tell the longest stories. Let the wolves of the ice plains make way for him, and let the storms calm him—"

"Brod Frostbeard, the rock of Iron Wolf Dalian, go."

The wolf priest's voice abruptly stopped after the last word.

Another silence followed.

Jill Iron Wolf slowly released his grip on the Fearless Steel Hand.

He stood up, his eyes filled with grief and anger.

chaos.

Chaos again.

They also took another brother from him.

[It is recommended that the host intervene to treat this fearless individual.]

The system's voice suddenly rang out in Qin Mo's mind.

Qin Mo stood on the outer edge of the Space Wolves crowd, his hands behind his back.

He remained a silent observer throughout.

His expression was calm.

It could even be described as indifference.

Born into a heretical sect, with a thousand years of cultivation.

He had witnessed more life-and-death separations than everyone present combined.

On the battlefield of cultivation in the Xuanhuang Realm, cultivators perish every day. Some die from heavenly tribulations, some from infighting among their own sects, and some from failing to transcend tribulations and turning into ashes.

For cultivators, death is nothing more than an ordinary part of daily life.

but--

Qin Mo's gaze lingered on that fearless mech for a long time.

To be precise, his consciousness remained focused on the decaying soul inside the stone coffin.

That soul was now extremely faint.

But even in this state.

That soul still did not collapse.

There was no fear, no resentment, no bitterness.

There was only tranquility.

And a touch of warm regret, about the sky of Fenris, about the mead of Fenris.

Qin Mo had witnessed the deaths of too many cultivators in the cultivation world.

Most cultivators exhibit a variety of emotions when they are about to die, such as fear, anger, resentment, and obsession.

Some struggled desperately to defy fate, some cursed wildly to drag others down with them, and some even chose to self-destruct their nascent souls at the last moment to perish together with others.

Like Broad, he calmly and peacefully accepted death, his last regret being simply wanting to see the sky over his hometown and drink a glass of wine from his hometown.

In the world of cultivation, this kind of death could even be considered a "peaceful death".

Moreover, this veteran deserves a peaceful death.

"Reason," Qin Mo replied calmly to the system in his mind.

"There are three reasons." The system immediately began its analysis.

"First, treating this Dreadnought will significantly increase the Space Wolves Chapter's favorability towards the host. Dreadnoughts are revered figures in any chapter, and this Brod Frostbeard is an elder of the Iron Wolves, having fought for millennia. Saving his life is tantamount to the entire Iron Wolves owing the host an immense favor."

"Secondly, the Space Wolves are loyal, respectful of the strong, and always keep their word. If the host can develop them into allies, they will gain an extremely reliable fighting force."

"They may not be able to compare with the host in terms of absolute strength, but on the battlefield of this world, their value far exceeds the scope of the host's current understanding."

"The host needs allies, not for fighting, but for gathering information, building connections, and integrating into this world."

"Thirdly, and most practically, healing the wounded and bringing the dead back to life can accumulate a large amount of merit points for the host. Especially when performing healing techniques under the watchful eyes of everyone, the resulting faith point bonus is even more considerable."