The two hearts in his chest beat wildly, even to a painful degree.
Chapter Master Malakim couldn’t help but gasp for breath.
Even as an Astartes possessing willpower and self-control far beyond that of mortals, when faced with this series of revelations, he found himself as bewildered as a mortal.
His brain temporarily shut down its capacity to think; only in this way could it alleviate the shock he felt.
Lancelot was very clear on why the Chapter Master before him was reacting like this.
Perhaps in the eyes of ordinary people, Astartes were demigods, the Angels of the God-Emperor.
But in reality, the source of all their power—their gene-seed—only required the blood within a Primarch’s own body to be manufactured in bulk.
Those sons personally created by the God-Emperor were the true leaders of the Legions.
They were the gods of war in this universe, the grand existences capable of shifting the geopolitical landscape of the entire galaxy.
And now, Lancelot actually said he would make a son of the Emperor once again walk the mortal realm?!
That he would make the Ultramarines’ Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, return to the world?!
What kind of galaxy-shattering news was this?
Malakim actually knew what state the Primarch of the XIII Legion was currently in.
In the ancient past, the Lord of the Ultramarines suffered heavy injuries while resisting a daemon’s attack and was forced to enter a stasis field.
On what basis, then, could Lancelot make him return to the mortal realm?
This thought flashed through Chapter Master Malakim’s mind.
Subsequently, his memory couldn’t help but continuously replay what Lancelot had been holding in his hand earlier.
A thought abruptly appeared in his mind.
The next moment, his soul and the cells of his entire body trembled.
Without needing any hints, he inwardly understood what kind of existence that thing was!
Could that possibly be the Emperor’s…
No…
impossible, right?!
How could the Emperor’s blood possibly still be circulating outside?
That should be the blood of a Primarch, right?
Malakim thought, his heart trembling.
But no matter which scenario it was, only one thought remained in Malakim’s mind: if that was real…
then the return of a Primarch was no longer a possibility, but an inevitability!
“My…
God!” Malakim muttered to himself.
At that moment, Lancelot also looked at the Chapter Master’s face before him and nodded in satisfaction.
Bringing out the real thing had finally made this Chapter Master believe him.
Actually, thinking about it carefully, he didn’t need to go directly to Terra to meet the Emperor on the Golden Toilet.
He just needed to test the Emperor’s attitude, let him know he had his Original Blood, tell him he was prepared to go resurrect the Thirteenth, and see if the Emperor would help or not.
It was a pity he had no psychic powers; otherwise, he could make a psychic phone call directly to ask about the situation…
As Lancelot’s thoughts diverged, Chapter Master Malakim took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and, as if making some kind of resolution, reached out a finger when he opened them again.
“Elder, my final question is: why do you not return to the Dark Angels?” “Because the Dark Angels also have their own Primarch; the Lord of the First Legion is also heavily injured and in a deep slumber.” Lancelot casually spoke another secret that made Chapter Master Malakim wish he could brainwash himself and forget it right then and there.
“Because there is only one of that item.
Based on my judgment, it is most rational to use it on the Lord of the Ultramarines right now…
But if I return to the First Legion, unnecessary arguments will arise.” Lancelot spoke in this manner, feeling as if he had managed to make the logic come full circle, and his confidence grew: “The matter is of grave importance, so the fewer people who know, the better.
Chapter Master Malakim, I believe in the Lamenters’ loyalty, so I have informed you of this matter.
But please also remember, that item might even attract the attention of the Ruinous Powers.” “Under the current circumstances, I must use special means to shield against the Warp’s prying eyes.
Therefore, the Custodes and the Emperor cannot know where I currently am.
For security reasons, I need trustworthy allies to relay the message.” “Next, what you must do is delete the memory of what just happened.
I have no intention of contacting those people from the Ministorum or the Inquisition.
I need the Lamenters to help me contact the Custodes, or introduce me on my behalf to a First Founding Chapter capable of contacting the Custodes.” Lancelot looked at the Lamenters Chapter Master before him and gently reached out to thump his chest.
“I understand that the Lamenters once had conflicts with the Ultramarines.
A son of Guilliman, the Mortifactors Chapter, abandoned you to evacuate alone in a past campaign, causing the Lamenters to suffer heavy losses.” “But I assure you, the Lord of the Ultramarines, Guilliman, will personally give you an explanation.” Lancelot spoke thus.
Hearing these words, Chapter Master Malakim no longer had any other concerns.
He took a deep breath and solemnly returned the chest-thumping salute to Lancelot.
“There is no need for that!
Elder, the Lamenters’ loyalty absolutely does not require the Lord Primarch to provide an explanation because of a single misunderstanding.
As the sons of Sanguinius, we will not fail the blood of Sanguinius!” Malakim said in this manner.
He took a deep breath, understanding a fundamental truth.
They were part of history.
The cursed sons of Sanguinius, the Lamenters, would have the honor of participating in the great cause of resurrecting a Primarch.
This achievement would be sufficient to prove their loyalty.
And loyalty requires no reward; loyalty itself is their reward!
“The Lamenters will contribute our strength to this great cause.
Elder, although we cannot directly establish contact with the Custodes, I can attempt to make contact with the Blood Angels founding Chapter and our battle-brothers of the White Scars.” Chapter Master Malakim tried his best to calm his mood and force himself to think more rationally.
“By that time, we should be able to contact the Custodes.
I will immediately have the Librarius purge my memory from just now!
Eliminating any possibility of intelligence leaking!” Chapter Master Malakim spoke with absolute seriousness.
Lancelot also smiled slightly, and then patted the Mark VII Aquila power armor beside him.
“Then I shall await your good news, battle-brother.
Please have the Librarius come here to operate.
Operate within my domain.” As Lancelot said this, Chapter Master Malakim nodded solemnly, and subsequently summoned a Librarius brother of the Chapter.
This Librarian was also looking blankly at the sudden batch of equipment in the armory.
However, he then heard his Chapter Master ask him to delete all memories of the past five minutes, keeping only one command—which was to help this elder beside him contact the Custodes on Terra at all costs.
“Swear upon the name of Sanguinius!” The Chapter Master swore solemnly.
At that moment, the Chapter Librarian also understood the severity of the issue and accepted the command.
Although extremely doubtful and curious, as a warrior, he immediately obeyed the order and began erasing the memories of his Chapter Master.
As he began to operate, the Librarian felt that the Warp around him was unusually special.
Everything was incredibly calm, as if under the absolute control of an entity.
Any psychic operation he performed seemed to require the tacit approval of that entity before it could be executed.
This process was very peculiar.
The Librarian felt as if he wasn’t actively helping the Chapter Master erase his memory, but rather operating as a tool following a pre-set trajectory.
Lancelot watched quietly.
He could feel the movements within his Inviolable Domain.
Through his tacit approval within the Inviolable Domain, Lancelot carefully controlled the psychic power like an eraser, gently wiping away the brief memory of him bringing out the Emperor’s blood.
Everything happened entirely within his control.
It’s a pity I don’t have psychic talent yet.
Otherwise, if I could control psychic powers, under my Inviolable Domain where others cannot cast spells but I can summon psychic lightning—that would be a devastating blow.
He thought to himself.
After everything ended, Chapter Master Malakim looked at the equipment before him and reenacted his shock once more.
The Librarian, familiar with the process, quickly explained the reason to the Chapter Master, which led him to thump his chest and swear an oath once again.
“I am already aware of the kind of secret you bear, Elder.
But since I have sworn in the name of Sanguinius, I will inevitably fulfill the mission at all costs!” “Many thanks.” Lancelot returned the salute as well.
The Chapter Librarian remained to inventory the supplies, Malakim still needed to explain things to the Chapter’s Master of the Forge, while Lancelot, after completing this series of bluffs mixing truth with falsehood, returned to his room.
“Phew…” Lancelot sighed.
Even an Astartes is human and needs rest, though the specifications for rest are different.
During combat, an Astartes might live in a space of a few square meters, but when resting, some Astartes might have dozens of Mechanicus members serving beside them, specifically responsible for burning incense and bathing the power armor.
Lancelot was provided with this kind of specification.
But having just transmigrated, Lancelot was currently unwilling to take off the power armor on his body.
Therefore, he could only sit to the side, holding his sword in meditation, continuously reviewing the entire conversation from earlier.
The conversation from earlier had revolved around resurrecting a Primarch.
But within those words, Lancelot had also discovered a few things.
“Things that have not yet happened cannot serve as secrets.
Things given by the system cannot serve as secrets.” “This actually makes a lot of sense.
After all, if the system’s rewards counted as secrets, I would have become a perpetual motion machine of rewards and ascended to heaven long ago.” Sigh, this Secret Keeper system has really harmed me terribly.
It could have given me anything, but it had to give me the blood of the Emperor…
However, when the sky falls, there are always tall people to hold it up!
Old Thirteenth, the future of the Imperium is entirely entrusted to you.
Your Uncle Lancelot, as an ordinary person, has already worked very hard to accomplish this much.
Thinking like this, Lancelot glanced at the Cherub flying in the air not far away.
This thing…
was not an angel from mythology.
Essentially, it looked like a baby with two mechanical wings stuck onto it!
Just one look made one’s blood run cold!
Even a Primarch couldn’t quite stomach looking at it at first glance.
This thing was simply the embodiment of ignorance.
Don’t look, don’t look…
Lancelot closed the iron door and stepped inside the private dormitory space, finally gaining a long-lost sense of security.
His reward as a transmigrator—although he had come to a cesspit universe, fortunately, the Cosmic Anchor allowed him to transmigrate to other worlds to stay for seven days.
Right now he was more or less safe; all that was left was to wait.
During the waiting process, let’s first go take a stroll in another world and see!
Thaniel_a_goodchild.