Warhammer: Become a Saint Starting with the Banner of Souls

Qin Mo loosened his grip and took half a step back.

"Your name is Brod, right?"

Broad's eyepiece flickered slightly. "Yes. Broad Frostbeard."

Qin Mo nodded, then said calmly:

"I know you're probably a little dissatisfied. You finally prepared yourself mentally, only to be pulled back again. Anyone would be unhappy in that situation."

An awkward cough came through Broad's loudspeaker.

Qin Mo didn't linger on this topic for long, and said:

"If I told you I could repair your body, restore your flesh and blood, give you all your limbs, and free you from this iron coffin..."

His tone remained indifferent.

But the content of this statement was like a bomb dropped into the ranks of the Space Wolves.

"Are you willing?"

silence.

Dead silence.

Brod Frostwolf's Dreadnought came to a complete standstill, as if it had crashed.

If Brod could see inside the sarcophagus at that moment, he would stop breathing.

It wasn't a problem with the life support system; he simply held his breath.

He even forgot that he no longer needed to breathe actively, as the circulatory system inside the sarcophagus would automatically provide oxygen.

The surrounding space wolves also fell silent.

Jill's pupils contracted sharply.

Hogan unconsciously tightened his grip on the rune staff.

Repair the body.

To restore a broken body that had been encased in the Fearless Stone Coffin for five hundred years to its original state.

What does this mean?

The Space Wolves were not ignorant barbarians. They knew very well the limits of the Empire's medical technology.

Space Marines do indeed possess superhuman regenerative abilities; minor wounds, fractures, and even mild internal organ damage can heal on their own thanks to their powerful self-healing capabilities.

More serious injuries can be repaired through surgery by a medical specialist and with bionic prosthetics.

But Brode's injury.

That's beyond what the word "serious" can describe.

Otherwise, it wouldn't have been put into the Fearless.

Because apart from the Dreadnought sarcophagus, the Empire's technology had no means to sustain his life.

And now, the man in black robes in front of him casually said, "I can repair your body."

Doesn't this mean that his individual healing skills surpass those of the entire empire?

absurd.

It’s ridiculous.

So much so that the first reaction of the space wolves present was not excitement, but disbelief.

However, just minutes before, this person had used a golden light to pull a fearless man back from the brink of death.

He has this precedent.

Maybe...maybe he really can do it.

After holding his breath for a full twelve seconds, Brod finally came to his senses.

"Is...is it really okay?"

Broad's voice came through the loudspeaker, trembling slightly.

"That's natural. I disdain lying."

Brod remained silent for a moment.

Then he continued to ask:

"So... what do you need us to exchange for?"

This is a reasonable question.

There's no such thing as a free lunch in this universe. Such incredible power and such precious favors can't come without a price.

Even the Empire's own Mechanicus, whose Mechanic Priests possess the highest level of human technology, charge a large amount of resources as payment for repairing a Dreadnought for the Chapter.

Moreover, it's something far beyond the limits of Imperial technology, like "restoring the Dreadnought to its complete body."

Qin Mo glanced at Brod.

That glance carried an indescribable meaning—a hint of admiration, a touch of amusement, and a dash of…arrogance.

"No need."

He said.

"Nothing of yours catches my eye."

This statement made many Space Wolves' eyebrows twitch.

Space Wolves are a proud band.

Ruth's descendants never considered themselves inferior to anyone, whether in combat prowess, willpower, or honor.

If someone told you to your face, "You have nothing that can meet my standards," in any other situation, these hot-tempered northern barbarians would probably have already drawn their chain swords and were ready to argue with you.

But at that moment, no one refuted it.

Because they cannot refute it.

A being capable of defeating a traitor with the power of the Titan Legion on his own, a being capable of bringing the dead back to life, a being whom even rune priests believe possesses the power of the entire Father.

He certainly has the right to say that.

Although the space wolves felt a little annoyed, the Fenrisians' inherent frankness forced them to admit that what the other side said was true.

They currently have no leverage to offer in exchange for that.

Broad's eyepiece flickered a few times.

"But what are you trying to achieve by doing this?"

His 1,200 years of life experience taught him that unprovoked kindness is more unsettling than a transaction with a price tag.

It's not that there's a problem with goodwill itself, but rather that you don't know where the boundaries of that goodwill lie, when it needs to be repaid, or what the cost of repayment will be.

Qin Mo's lips curled up slightly.

"I always act solely based on my own whims."

His tone was indifferent.

"You are simply to my liking."

Jill and Broad fell silent simultaneously.

Jill took a deep breath, carefully discerning the aura emanating from Qin Mo.

There was no hint of deception.

This person is genuinely telling the truth. He simply felt that the Space Wolf was "to his liking," so he was willing to help.

Jill turned to look at Broad.

The Dreadnought also tilted its head slightly, as it was making eye contact with Jill.

The 1,200-year-old veteran and the 200-year-old wolf lord exchanged their judgments in this silent gaze.

Broad's conclusion is...

This person is telling the truth.

and……

Broad sighed inwardly.

He admitted that the temptation to regain his physical body was too great.

too big.

For five hundred years, I haven't used my real mouth to drink a single drop of wine.

He really wanted to drink.

I don't want the taste of alcohol, I want the feeling of drinking it.

The coolness of the rim of the glass against my lips, the spiciness of the liquid sliding across my tongue, the bobbing of my Adam's apple as I swallow, the burning sensation of the wine flowing into my stomach, and then a warm feeling rising from my abdomen and spreading to every part of my body.

He wanted to drink.

I'm going crazy thinking about it.

"this……"

Broad's voice, carefully choosing his words, came through the loudspeaker.

He thought for a moment, unsure how to address the other person.

Calling me "sir" is too formal, and the Fenris people don't do that.

Call me sir? That's too kind of you.

Calling me "Your Excellency" is too formal.

Broad thought about it and realized that although this person spoke with a bit of arrogance, he was a straightforward person at heart.

He saves people without expecting anything in return, and acts on a whim based solely on his own whims. In the eyes of Space Wolf, this personality is somewhat similar to that of Fenris's warriors.

So he chose a name that best suited the Space Wolf style:

"Hey...brother, what should I call you?"

Qin Mo raised an eyebrow slightly.

Being called "brother" by a 1,200-year-old veteran is quite a novel experience.

In the world of cultivation, with his peak Mahayana cultivation level, he is addressed as "senior," "immortal," or "fellow Daoist" wherever he goes.

but--

He doesn't dislike the title.