The Fist of Iron.
The medical bay of the Iron Hands was still the same layout as before.
However, with Ferris lifting the restrictions on the mechanization of the body, many of the Iron Hands legionaries were overjoyed and actively requested the Apothecary to replace parts of their bodies with metal limbs.
Compared to the already very mechanically-modified medical bay of the past, the smell of engine oil here seemed to be a few degrees stronger.
The once-empty sickbeds were now filled with impatient Iron Hands warriors.
If it weren't for the fact that the number of Apothecaries was slightly insufficient compared to the massive demand for mechanization, it was estimated that in a few days, the entire Iron Hands legion would have literally become the Iron Hands.
First, just like the Iron Hands Primarch, they would have their hands replaced with steel!
The legion's name was Iron Hands, and the Primarch was also an Iron Hand.
When it came to the Astartes of the Tenth Legion, they had become flesh hands. How could that be?
No matter which legion, the Space Marines would subconsciously look up to their Primarch.
Just like the War Hounds had all gotten the Butcher's Nails after Angron's return, the legion had collectively fallen in love with speeding after the Khan came, and the Angel had directly turned the Ninth Legion from ghosts into men.
The Iron Hands also hoped that they could, like Ferris, have a pair of indestructible iron hands.
And as for the Ultramarines...
The world's only known human-Eldar hybrid, the Chief Librarian Astropath of the Ultramarines, Illyan Natase: "?"
"Why mention me?"
"Could Guilliman have—with an Eldar?"
Kasjia woke up.
The sizzling sound of metal welding was still buzzing in his ears.
The familiar white ceiling and the back-and-forth running servitors reminded him of his current location.
"You're awake?"
With a pleasant question, was the sound of a charcoal pencil rubbing on parchment.
Very light, and also very unconfident.
Arcur Tona.
"I lost?"
"You lost. You lost badly."
"Not only were you knocked out on the spot, but your chest was almost caved in."
"And, if I hadn't insisted that they treat you as you were, their Apothecary would probably have replaced your internal organs with steel."
Steel internal organs...
Thinking of this, Kasjia shuddered.
"I don't know where you got the confidence to challenge a Primarch alone."
"Even with a psionic awakening, that doesn't mean you can just challenge an opponent of the Primarch level at will."
There was some complaint in Arcur's tone.
The matter of Kasjia suddenly challenging Ferris was indeed a bit baffling to her.
As for the reason, it was also very simple.
He had gotten anxious.
He had gotten carried away, and had acted like Guilliman.
"This matter is really a bit difficult to explain in a short time."
I made a small mistake that all the Primarchs would make.
Actually, the Regent Guilliman did it too.
"Come with me. We'll talk about this somewhere else."
Kasjia turned over and got off the sickbed with a grave expression.
This was going to be difficult.
The daemon wasn't dead, and if he wanted to solve this problem in the same way in the future, it would probably be more and more difficult.
Not only that, but the power sword was also gone...
Wait, the power sword is still here?
Kasjia looked at the Fireblade beside him, a little baffled.
Ferris hadn't taken it as a trophy.
What was she trying to do?
Actually, his injuries were not a big deal.
Although Kasjia's psionic flame was not very damaging, its advantage was that it could provide him with an extremely strong self-healing ability.
Even if his chest cavity had been caved in by a Primarch's punch, as long as he woke up and burned it a little with the psionic flame, his body could be restored to its original state.
He just needed to let this fire settle a bit and he'd be fine.
Therefore, even though he had just undergone restorative surgery, Kasjia could now move without any hindrance, and led the Second Company Captain of the Emperor's Children, Arcur, behind him, to the door of the Thousand Sons Librarian, Amal.
"Who?"
"It's me."
The door opened.
Amal led the two of them into the room.
"How are your injuries?"
"I'm fine. As long as I'm not dead, with the support of the psionic flame, my recovery ability is far beyond the imagination of others."
"...But the premise is not to die."
Amal asked, a little worried.
"How was it? Did you achieve the expected effect? Was that Warp creature you mentioned expelled?"
"Wait, what does that mean?"
Listening to the two of them talking in strange words, Arcur felt as if she had entered some unknown, mysterious warrior lodge.
"So that's how it is."
"But it sounds like your psionic flame is not as useful as you had imagined."
Arcur, after understanding the cause and effect, gave a sharp critique of Kasjia.
Amal was very excited about this. "You've confirmed that this is indeed the influence of a Warp creature?"
"And not only that, but the Warp creatures also have their own unique names and types!"
"And even, the Warp creatures have levels and classifications? Wait, my friend, this I must—"
"Stop!"
"No notes."
Just as Amal was about to excitedly find something to record the knowledge of the Warp creatures that Kasjia had mentioned, he was stopped by Kasjia.
Kasjia was sweating profusely.
You're actually studying this?!
So this group of Thousand Sons really... have not for a moment given up their desire to court death.
"Perhaps there will be professional research on Warp creatures in the future, but not now."
Amal was a psyker.
In other words, the more he understood about the Warp, the more likely he was to become a portal for daemons to invade the world, without sufficient knowledge to defend against their invasion.
No matter how strong his thirst for knowledge was, he was not worthy of knowing what he should not know.
"The reason is also very simple. Warp creatures can be generated through thought and can be transmitted through thought."
"When there is no better way to deal with it, the less you know about the Warp, the better."
"...Alright," Amal was a little disappointed. "Then what should we do now?"
"Friend, that is the problem that is giving me a headache."
The flame could indeed expel and burn the daemons that parasitized the human body, but for a greater daemon with great power, the unawakened Kasjia's flame could not instantly kill the other party.
But since his proud flame was ineffective, what could Kasjia do to stop the daemon's invasion?
Lead the way in promoting the Lectitio Divinitatus?
"We don't have much time left."
Kasjia's expression was grave. "A week has passed since Ferris joined the Gardiner campaign."
"Lord Guilliman's Twelfth Expeditionary Fleet will arrive in about a week."
This time, when Guilliman said he would be there in nine hours, he really would be.
"During this time, Ferris will very likely choose to launch a final general assault on the main planet of Gardiner."
"And this time, it might be our last chance to save Ferris from the hands of the Warp creatures."
Kasjia looked at his cracked right hand.
He was in urgent need of power right now, but he couldn't be hasty.
The damn Warp daemons were everywhere, and he had to be on guard against their every secret whisper and potential inducement.
Damn Warp creatures...
"Why don't you try talking to her directly about this?"
Arcur asked tentatively.
"No, to question the authority of a Primarch in the legion and to accuse the other of being attacked by some unknown evil creature... none of this is in accordance with the Imperial Truth."
If Kasjia were to also demand that his flame had to be in a certain temple to save the other's illness...
...the sense of déjà vu would be a bit too strong.
Even Erebus wouldn't be so stupid as to say that to an unconscious Primarch.
"Then according to you, we basically can't get that Warp daemon out of Ferris's head?"
Arcur lay down on the recliner behind her with a sigh of disappointment.
"You could say that. But—it's not impossible for the Primarch to realize that her thinking has been guided by someone else."
Feasible.
When the Primarch herself realizes that her thinking is abnormal, the daemon can no longer deceive her.
Just like the newly awakened Guilliman, when faced with the Crown of Vainglory, he had instantly seen through the disguise of the Slaaneshi cultist after being startled awake.
(Guilliman: What do you mean I also want to sit on the Golden Throne? Ah, that scared me.)
During the Great Crusade, the veil between the Warp and reality was still very thick.
The extent to which daemons could interfere with reality was not high.
It was only after the Word Bearers had sacrificed a large number of civilian souls in the Great Betrayal that the influence of the Warp had gradually deepened.
As for now, even the famous The Sapphire King could only lie low and act as a parasite on Ferris, secretly influencing her actions.
But it was not so feasible.
"But to make her realize her mistake on her own is far more difficult than imagined."
"To make the extremely rationalist Ferris realize that her thinking is wrong or that she is possessed by some supernatural power..."
It seemed very unlikely.
The problem had once again returned to its starting point.
How to get the daemon lurking in Ferris's body out?
"Kasjia, I have another question I want to ask you."
After a moment of silence, Arcur Tona was the first to speak. "You have the ability of foresight, right?"
"...Yes."
But in the prophecy, there would be no The Sapphire King's appearance.
This thing had suddenly interrupted Kasjia's plan.
"Then can you tell me, in your prophecy, what is so different about Gardiner?"
"That it was worth you insisting on going, despite Fulgrim's request?"
Kasjia was silent.
He couldn't just say, "Because you're going to die here," right?
"It's because of me, isn't it?"
Arcur's head lifted from the recliner, and her bright purple eyes stared at Kasjia.
A sharp gaze, as if it was going to pierce through him.
"...How did you know?"
"Intuition."
She smiled. "A swordsman's intuition."
"And in your prophecy, I will die, right?"
"In this upcoming final battle on the main planet of Gardiner?"
Arcur looked up at the ceiling.
Unlike the other lifeless cabins of the Fist of Iron, this one was wallpapered with a brilliant starry sky by Amal.
Compared to the monotonous and boring other cabins of the Fist of Iron, it had more of a human living atmosphere.
"Although it sounds a bit narcissistic..."
"But your purpose in coming to the Iron Hands was to save me in the final battle where I was supposed to die in the prophecy."
"And at the same time, in the prophecy, she will not be controlled by a Warp creature, right?"
"...It seems I can't hide anything from you," Kasjia said with a helpless smile.
"Wait! What do you two mean by this?!"
Amal was a little confused.
How did a bunch of words that he couldn't understand suddenly burst out?
"Amal, you Thousand Sons should have made many psionic prophecies before. Have you forgotten the principle that a prophecy must come true?"
"That's right, but aren't we talking about how to make Ferris realize her mistake—"
"We've already reached a conclusion, Amal."
"Since we have no better way, then let the prophecy happen."
Arcur had made her decision.
—To follow the guidance of the prophecy.
"Only I."
As she spoke, Arcur pointed to herself.
"Only my death can make the Iron Hands understand what kind of destruction their actions will bring to the legion."
"Just as Kasjia said in the prophecy."
"You mean to say—"
Amal's pupils suddenly shrank.
"I will die in the next battle."
"The prophecy will surely be fulfilled, my friend."
"Even though the process in the middle may have all kinds of strange changes, but they are just like the scenery that flashes by on a train journey. They will not affect our arrival at the final destination."
As she spoke, she slowly stood up from the chair, stroked the exquisite Xana-pattern precious sword she had taken from her waist, and caressed it carefully.
The next moment, she slowly drew the blade from it.
The sharp, cold glint of the precious sword flashed before the two's eyes.
Shing.
It was returned to its sheath.
"But... my purpose in coming here was to break the prophecy, to save you."
"You don't actually have to sacrifice yourself! We can use the ship's ram to destroy the Gardinerians' orbital defenses, and end the battle ahead of schedule!"
"A prophecy does not necessarily have to come true! We can still—"
"I understand."
"But now, do you have a better way to wake Ferris up?"
Kasjia was silent.
"A prophecy does not necessarily have to come true, but it can guide our actions."
"Since Terra, I have taken the Thunder Warriors as my masters. I joined the Emperor's Children, and have been through countless battles, large and small, without a single defeat."
"All the victories, all the tempering, are to be able to die for a greater purpose at the most critical moment."
As she spoke, Arcur stood up and walked out of the room.
"And I have long had this resolve," she said with a smile.
"...I understand."
Kasjia's reply carried a hint of bitterness.
"If I haven't found a better way during this time..."
"...then let's just treat it as a last resort."
Everything was happening just as it had in the original story.
Without a single deviation.
Ferrus, who was obsessed with the position of Warmaster...
...it was precisely because of Arcur Tona's self-sacrifice that she chose to let go of her obsession and bid farewell to the stage of the Warmaster competition.
Could it be...
...that this scene was about to be staged again?
The next day.
[Warriors of the Iron Hands!]
[I regret to inform you that we may have to slightly delay the schedule for the mechanization surgery.]
[According to the Primarch's request, the Iron Hands are about to launch a final assault on the treacherous Gardinerians.]
[We must let these traitors see the consequences of betraying us!]
[And the brave warriors who are wounded in battle will receive the latest mechanization surgery sooner!]
[Flesh is weak!]
"Flesh is weak!!!"
With the激励声 of the ship's sound-array broadcast echoing throughout the Fist of Iron, cheers from the Iron Hands rose one after another.
After Ferris had stopped prohibiting mechanization, most of them had followed the Primarch's example and had their hands replaced with metal bionic arms.
And hearing that they would get more modifications if they were wounded in battle...
...the Iron Hands were like a bunch of Ork Boyz who had just heard that the Mad Dok was going to attach bigger and stronger choppas to their arms, and they all started Waaaaagh-ing.
And only the more glorious veteran warriors could enter the Dreadnoughts that all the legionaries dreamed of!
Heavens!
If I could get into a Dreadnought, how great would that be... hehehe...
Now it was the Iron Hands' exclusive fantasy time.
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