Warhammer: Become a Saint Starting with the Banner of Souls

"Fine, I won't say." Qin Mo made a decisive decision, and then used his spiritual power to take Brod out of the stone coffin and place him on the ground.

"Brod, feel your new body."

Brod looked down at his body, his complete body.

Two legs.

Two feet.

Ten toes.

He tried moving his left leg.

The leg moved.

Knees bent, lower legs lifted, ankles rotated—every movement was incredibly fluid.

He moved his right leg again.

Equally smooth. Equally powerful.

Brod closed his eyes.

Take a deep breath.

Then slowly expel it.

Such a simple breath.

But it was this one breath that made the 1,200-year-old wolf laugh.

Five hundred years.

He could finally feel his breath again.

"Brother Qin Mo."

His voice was loud and clear, full of energy, and carried an almost irrepressible joy.

"My current state... I don't even know how to describe it."

"No need for description," Qin Mo said. "You just need to know that the strength of your body in all aspects has far surpassed your peak condition before your injury."

Broad paused for a second, processing the information.

Far surpassing the peak?

He clenched his fist again.

This time he didn't hold back, but gripped it tightly with all his might.

The moment he clenched his fist, he felt a force that startled even himself.

He even had a ridiculous thought: with his current physical condition, he didn't even need a nuclear-powered backpack.

He can drive the power armor directly with his physical body.

It's important to understand that power armor needs a power source because of its weight and complex mechanical structure.

The fiber bundles, muscles, and servo motors in the power armor bear the majority of the driving load. The wearer only needs to provide the action commands, and the mechanical system of the power armor is responsible for translating the commands into actual physical movements.

This is crazy.

The surrounding space wolves stirred again.

You have to understand that a veteran whose physical condition is far beyond his peak, a veteran with 1,200 years of combat experience, once he puts on power armor again, is a walking war machine.

Jill's breathing involuntarily quickened.

But soon, reality dampened their excitement.

Power armor.

They didn't have any extra power armor.

Iron Wolf Dalian's spare equipment, including power armor, weapons, and ammunition, is all stored on the flagship Frostfang in orbit.

Now, the interference from the subspace storm is causing intermittent communication between the ground and orbit, let alone the delivery of supplies.

And now they have a new problem.

The empty Dreadnought.

Brod moved out, the Dreadnought is empty, but the mech itself remains.

A steel behemoth, over five meters tall and weighing tens of tons, stood there on the battlefield.

Its weapon system and armor are intact. Thanks to the additional effect of Qin Mo's merit golden light, the mecha has even been restored to its factory condition.

But without a driver, it's just an expensive steel statue.

Space Wolves' vehicles were all destroyed in the previous battle with Iron Warriors.

They had no means of transportation to move the Fearless.

We can't just leave it here, can we? A fully functional Dreadnought is an extremely valuable strategic asset.

Jill's gaze involuntarily drifted towards Qin Mo.

He wanted to ask Qin Mo for help, since Qin Mo could control even a Titan, so operating a Dreadnought should be a piece of cake.

But as soon as the thought arose, he suppressed it.

No.

I already owe too many favors.

To reconstruct Brod's complete body is an immense favor.

I owe them an even greater favor for helping them defeat the Iron Warriors and the Titan Legion.

How could he possibly ask again?

Jill gritted her teeth and began to consider other options in her mind.

Perhaps we could have a few brothers take turns pushing it?

But with a weight of tens of tons, even a Space Marine couldn't push it very far.

Alternatively, we could disassemble the Dauntless weapon system and take it with us, mark the mech itself, and send someone to retrieve it once communication is restored.

But what if the enemy discovers this?

"Wolf Lord."

A voice interrupted Jill's thoughts.

Sven the Wolf Priest walked out from the crowd.

His expression was very serious.

"Lord Wolf, there's a situation that requires your decision."

Jill immediately put aside her thoughts about fearlessness and turned to the apothecary: "Speak."

"They are the brothers Grenard and Torg."

"They were severely wounded in the previous battle. Grenal was hit in the abdomen and right leg by shrapnel from the Titan's Vulcan cannon, suffering extensive burns to his internal organs. His right leg below the knee was reduced to a charred stump."

"Torg was struck in the left side of his body by the Steel Warrior's powerful punch, suffering seven broken ribs, a perforated left lung, and a comminuted fracture of his left arm."

"With my current medical resources, I can at most keep their vital signs from deteriorating further, but I cannot cure them. If they don't receive more advanced medical care soon, they won't survive the night."

Jill's brow furrowed deeply.

Two more brothers.

Iron Wolf Dalian didn't deploy many troops to Kadia this time, and every single one of them was an invaluable fighting force.

The previous series of fierce battles had already cost them several brothers.

Sven seemed to sense Jill's dilemma, so he offered a suggestion:

"Lord Wolf, it's perfect timing. Elder Brod's Fearless Stone Coffin is now empty." He lowered his voice.

"If we put either Gnar or Torg into the sarcophagus and use its life support system to stabilize his injuries, we can not only save one brother but also get this Dreadnought running again. A win-win situation."

Jill was taken aback.

He then had to admit that it was a very pragmatic solution.

The life support system of the Dreadnought Coffin is one of the culmination of Imperial technology.

It can not only sustain the life of a dying person, but also repair injuries to some extent.

Although being placed in the sarcophagus meant that the brother would have to face everything Brod had faced: the life in the iron coffin, loss of senses, endless battles and cycles of sleep, at least he could survive.

Moreover, the Dreadnought can be re-engaged in battle.

In the current situation, having one more Fearless support unit could mean fewer brothers dying in the next battle.

"Bring them over," Jill decided.

---

After a while.

The two space wolves were carried to the front of the Dreadnought by their companions on a makeshift stretcher.

Gennar Flame, a burly grey hunter with long, messy reddish-brown hair that fell haphazardly on either side of the stretcher, his face as pale as paper.

His abdomen was covered with thick bandages and hemostatic gel, but dark red blood continued to seep out. His right leg below the knee was charred black, and an unpleasant burnt smell filled the air.

Thorg Broken Horn, a slightly lean but equally tall grey hunter.

His left side was almost deformed; the power armor at his ribs was dented and stuck to his flesh.

His left arm was hanging at an unnatural angle, clearly indicating multiple fractures.

Despite their injuries, both of them remained conscious.

That's how the Space Wolf's super soldiers are; even when they're injured like this, they remain perfectly conscious.

Their genes endowed them with vitality and pain tolerance far exceeding that of ordinary people.

These injuries would have killed an ordinary person long ago, but for a Space Marine, they were merely a source of great discomfort.

The two were carried to the Dreadnought and saw the Dreadnought mech with its stone coffin open. The inside of the coffin was empty; the life support fluid had been drained, and various pipes and connectors were neatly arranged, waiting for a new user.