The promethium-scented wind passes through the massive hollows beneath the planet's surface.

Everyone's eyes were focused on the living creature that made the sound of the Fourth Primordial.

The black and white dog's beautiful tan almond eyes coldly swept over Dantiok's shoulder armor over everyone in the hall of the chapel.

The panicked doubts of his unpredetermined heir were the only movement in the chapel at this moment.

"No, it can't be! Before I set out, I had the privilege of meeting our great genetic father aboard the Iron Blood! There's no way he's going to be here! It's impossible! What kind of evil thing are you! How dare you pretend to be the voice of the Iron Lord! ”

"[Evil thing? The furry four-legged creature deftly found some space next to the old blacksmith's shoulder armor, power pack, and helmet for his four flesh-pad paws, and the old blacksmith gasped and grabbed the arms of his fighting brother to keep his old and weakened knees from falling to the ground due to the sudden increase in weight.

The stunned lieutenant Taraschi held his commander in time, and he himself did not dare to look up at the stuffed four-legged creature that had previously made them all so cute and close to him—a sound was coming from the creature's throat that made them tremble from soul to body.

"[Evil thing? How dare you put this term on me like this? "The voice of the father of their genes, the tyrant and destroyer of Olympia, the eternal father and master of the Iron Warrior Legion, rumbled above everyone's heads and in their brains, and the newly appointed war blacksmith of the Fourteenth Battalion began to tremble under such overwhelming majesty.

The sound of questioning was not at all the sound of a small creature, and it was not in keeping with anyone's common sense, and the furry creature's outstretched lips could not match the sound: such a grandiose and majestic sound could only be produced by the Lord of Steel, Perturabo.

Dantiok inhaled deeply with his broken lips under his iron mask, blinking vigorously to make out the sound he hadn't heard in years, trying to find the slightest trace of trickery and deception.

"[Very well, Clendel, for the sake of being one of my heirs, you poor shrunken brain might be of good use, but now I have changed my mind. - Look at the insults you have just made to your comrades and former superiors, the contempt you have for your father's words, and you are barking at your comrades because of them! Speak for them without thinking! As an Iron Warrior, you're so easy to take that Kosonian thug's clumsy orders as a guideline! 】”

Dressed in the distinctive green armor of the Sons of Horus, the Astarte officer stepped forward and put his hand on the handle of his weapon as if to fight for his father's honor against this daring maniac who did not even have a human form, he raised his thick black eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak.

But the big black and white dog only glared at him with his bright almond eyes, and the traitor's son closed his mouth like a sheep under the watchful eye of a shepherd's dog, and did not dare to move at all.

The member of the Mechanic who had come with the betrayers shrank his red-robed body further back, closer to the entrance from which they had come, except for the three bionic mechanical eyes under his hood contracting, spinning, and clicking frantically.

The mortal auxiliaries here held his weapon and placed himself in a position suitable for concealment and shooting, observing the scene vigilantly, while the priest in the blue-gold robes stood in place in surprise but unwavering.

"[Dantiok, take me there. The mysterious and not mysterious black and white dog proudly gave orders to his once most beloved offspring.

The old blacksmith didn't move at first, until the creature repeated his request again, and let out a deep sigh from beneath the flesh-and-blood iron mask, and then the ancient servo and power armor joints were propped up to prop the old soldier's weakened but not dead body forward.

The crowd gathered around the edge of the altar hesitated and hesitated to retreat, like a large flock of bewildered lambs without a head.

Only Clendel, who had just been most imposedly intoxicated with false glory, was prominently put in place.

Step after step, Dantyok stood in front of the trembling Iron Warrior Astarte with the magical creature on his shoulder.

"Honorable ...... Dear Dantiok ......"

But the man in the silver-gray steel mask only shook his head wearily at the betrayer who had already been sentenced, and he only said a simple word to Clendel, which showed that even after years of public rebuke, stripped of honor and Terminator armor, and banished to such a desolate and remote place, Barabas Dantioc still had a deep admiration and deep understanding of someone in his dreams.

"Too late, Clendel, may your soul find true rest."

And the black and white border collie sneered and commented.

"[Respectful, but that's it. 】”

He raised his head with trembling ears and a long snout, and proclaimed the final end of the heir in front of the Iron Altar.

Tens of thousands of possibilities pass through my brain in every light-second, as it has been and will continue to be. The shaggy black and white dog's face had a cold, hard, cruel look that would be etched forever in the heart of every Iron Warrior who had ever seen the original body, and the long-lost feeling made the tall warrior who should not know what fear was, and his muscles trembled, and he could barely lift his blaster.

"If you think that I have lost my body and armor and that I can't take care of you in this form, then you are very wrong. Idlis Clendel. 】”

The dog's well-groomed paws reached forward, and his pads slammed Astarte's advanced genetically engineered head. At first, nothing happened, and the pathetic and abominable follower of the madness of chaos even unconsciously showed a hint of joy, and he raised his gun to say something—

Then, the Space Marine's head flew out—physically, with a small half of a spine and a mixture of red and white flesh and metal cables—and slammed into the reinforced relief wall of the chapel, bursting, splashing, and spilling its contents like a fragile water bladder.

"Your destiny should have continued after this, Clendel," the voice of the Iron God rumbled in everyone's ears, like the lightning and thunder of the Olympian Heights, "but my judgment is here, and it will cut off your fate, and it will never cease again.'" 】”

And when the figures of the crowd fell into the noble, majestic and proud eyes of the furry four-legged creature again—

Once again, the rebel envoys trembled genuinely and irrepressibly.

Wail.

Nearly beat Crendell to Cromwell several times (head turn)

Second, there are more, yards

(End of chapter)