Warhammer: Become a Saint Starting with the Banner of Souls

Jill stood there, stunned.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

then.

"Senior citizens!!!"

The entire Space Wolves team in Dalian erupted in cheers.

Jill suddenly turned to look at Qin Mo.

The black-robed cultivator remained standing with his hands behind his back, the golden wheel of merit slowly flying back behind him, regaining its usual soft and understated light.

His expression was calm, with a faint smile playing on his lips.

Jill's lips trembled slightly.

He turned to look at the rune priest beside him.

Iron Wolf Dalian's rune priest is named Hogan Rift, a thin but gloomy space wolf with long, gray hair braided into several plaits that hang down in front of his chest.

As one of the very few psionicists among the Space Wolves, he is able to sense supernatural powers that are inaccessible to ordinary people.

At this moment, Hogan was staring wide-eyed at the golden wheel behind Qin Mo.

His expression wasn't one of shock, but rather one of horror.

"What kind of power is this?" Jill asked in a deep voice.

Hogan's lips moved a few times, as if he was organizing his thoughts.

As a rune priest, he possesses psychic vision.

He can "see" the flow of psionic and warp forces.

Over the past few centuries, he has witnessed all sorts of supernatural forces.

But that golden light just now...

It was unlike any power he had ever seen.

totally different.

"No trace of warp." Hogan's voice was slightly strained.

"I sensed it carefully; from the moment it was released to the moment it dissipated, there were no subspace fluctuations whatsoever. No rifts, no etheric tides. That wasn't psionic energy."

He paused, then continued:

"There was no psionic contamination. Any psionic activity would leave some residual warp imprint in the surrounding environment, but he..."

Hogan's eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and awe as he looked at Qin Mo.

"The power he just released left no trace. It was as if, as if that power didn't belong to the subspace at all. It came from somewhere else. A place higher and purer than subspace."

"What kind of power is it?" Jill pressed.

Hogan remained silent for a long time.

Finally, he spoke.

"So sacred. So majestic. So pure. Of all the powers I know, none can match this power."

He took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid only Quan Fu is left."

This statement was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, stirring up huge ripples in the Space Wolf.

Every Space Wolf present turned their gaze to Qin Mo without prior arrangement.

The content of those gazes changed dramatically in just a few seconds.

From vigilance to shock.

The initial scrutiny turned into awe.

From being on guard, it turned into... something more complicated.

Hogan's next sentence brought this complex emotion to a climax.

"Perhaps he is the one chosen by the whole Father."

All father.

Emperor.

Lord of mankind.

For the Space Wolves, the Emperor is not some distant deity; he is the All Father, the father of the Wolf King Lemanrus.

Unlike other chapters that worship the Emperor as a god, the Space Wolves respect him as an elder of their family.

But that's precisely why.

The title "Chosen One of the Fathers" carries far more weight in Space Wolf's heart than the title "Emperor's Messenger."

Because it means that the whole father trusts this person.

And the person the father trusts, the Space Wolf can also trust.

Jill looked at Qin Mo again.

This time, the wariness in his eyes had largely subsided. In its place was a complex expression, but also one that carried a hint of relief.

He was about to say something—

"I mean... can someone explain this to me? What's going on?"

Brod's voice came from within the Dreadnought once again.

The space wolves formed a loose semicircle, surrounding Qin Mo and the reawakened Dreadnought mech in the center.

Qin Mo stood with his hands behind his back and explained everything that had happened to Brod in extremely concise language.

"You were about to die. I saved you. It's that simple."

Broad fell silent.

It looks like they're processing this information.

If anyone could see Brod's true expression inside the sarcophagus at this moment.

You'll definitely burst out laughing.

The expression on that aged face could only be described in one word.

My balls hurt.

An indescribable, excruciating pain.

Brod mentally went over what had just happened from beginning to end: First, the seal on his sarcophagus had broken, the life support fluid had leaked, and his bodily functions were rapidly failing—all of which he was aware of.

Then, realizing he was about to die, he calmly bid farewell to his children, gave his last words, and even quite nonchalantly remarked that he wanted to see the sky of Fenris and drink the mead of Fenris.

At that moment, he was truly at peace.

Twelve hundred years of warfare, five hundred years of life in an iron coffin.

He felt he had lived a fulfilling life.

It would be nice to go to the hall of the whole family to drink mead and catch up with the old brothers who have passed away.

He could even see the path leading to the hall, a long corridor covered with Fenris snow, lined with countless warriors, each holding a cup of mead and grinning at him.

He was almost at the door.

then.

A golden light pulled him back.

It feels like... you've waited in line for ages, finally reached the window, and are about to collect your pension, only to have the clerk at the window glance at you and say:

"Sorry, the system shows you haven't reached retirement age yet. Please go back to work."

Broad: …………

What left him speechless was—

He's in an absurdly good state right now.

He stayed in the stone coffin for five hundred years.

Over the course of five hundred years, his physical functions have been slowly and irreversibly declining.

Life support fluids can only delay failure, not reverse damage.

His heart function is only 30% of its peak, his lung capacity is only 20%, his muscles have atrophied to the point that he is almost just a skeleton, and even his nerve conduction speed is almost half as slow as when he was young.

But now.

He could clearly feel his heart beating strongly.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Each strike was steady and powerful, like a war drum.

His lungs were fully expanded, and he could even feel the oxygen-rich components in the life support fluid being absorbed efficiently, making each breath full and satisfying.

Although the body was still incomplete at this moment, the remaining muscle tissue was surging with a sense of power that he had forgotten for five hundred years.

His physical condition was even better than it was before he was placed in the sarcophagus.

This is ridiculous.

But what shocked Broad the most was the change in his mentality.