The Heads of the Twelfth Legion's flagship, the Captain, the brave Lady Salin, are preparing to temporarily remove her from the central control cocoon of the Desert Ark, where she has been in for decades, and carefully send her to the Iron Blood after a blessing and protective ceremony.

This is indeed very troublesome, and it seems to everyone that it is much more convenient than letting the Fourth Primordial condescend to it.

But a certain black-and-white stuffed tyrant insisted that only the Iron Blood's field would ensure smooth and safe security, and if they wanted their genetic father's return path to be as foolproof as possible, then it was best to let everything go according to the Iron Lord's dictation, and obediently obey the Lord of the Fourth Legion!

Obediently!

And to the other party, "This is blackmail!" Threat! Father knows and will never let you go! Weak and powerless cruel words say: Do you want your father back? Think? Then be obedient and let me go alone! I've had enough of you going alone!

The officers of Ironheart thought it was strange when they discussed it privately, as if the Iron Lord had the opportunity to direct them in battle.

The amniotic fluid cocoon that sustained Lady Lothara Salin's mind and soul was about two adults tall and less than two meters wide—mainly because of the large number of strange devices, ornaments, idols, and other cables attached to the mechanical priests on the surface, making it irregular and easy to measure.

Now, in the unattended Hall of Omens, the multiple circles on the ground have been reactivated, and the incense, candles, and other auxiliary items around it have been replaced with the styles that another person is used to, more earthy, older, and more mysterious.

In place of the ubiquitous servants, the hoops are busy arranging biological cables and occult lines around the area as required, and all of the Iron Heart's current members of the Retreat aboard the Desert Ark have all arrived, quietly waiting to give their part.

Lamizan looked curiously at these Iron Heart Think Tanks with silver and blue armor painted black, they rarely seem to appear in front of people, even when negotiating, which is very rare, after all, in today's practice, the war leader and the think tank leader in a holy canon often have some very close ties and attitudes, such as a certain giant blue and a certain blue, and a certain golden man and a certain very blood-dressed.

His gaze wandered aimlessly back and forth among the hooded, robed, and book-slung think-tanks, all of whom had an air of serenity rarely seen among space marines, as if they were accustomed to similar rituals.

- The Think Tank of Iron Heart is dressed in a strange way, like a Think Tank, like a priest, and everyone wears skull helmets with teardrops on them, and a crown of thorns on the helmets...... However, it is not surprising that many of the members of the warband have some local characteristics in their details...... His mind jumped to the cocoon in front of him again.

The large metal jar had something like a small door on it, and a name glittered on the door.

Lothara Sarin.

In someone's strange perception, she was the powerful female captain of the Conqueror, half of the Wardogs and the World Eaters, and maybe maybe she had some untidy feelings with Karn?

Anyway, this is not something that Ms. Lothara Salin should know now, mainly because Mr. Walter, the captain of the Iron Blood, under someone's command, is obvious...... Well...... At...... Well...... Is this the old house on fire...... I mean it...... You're all with the Iron Blood...... Oh...... Ms. Salin is too...... That's fine......

Lamizan stared at the side monitor of the Iron Blood, and his flagship sneaked in the direction of the Desert Ark flashing a non-stop light signal - hey, that's definitely the Navy flag, don't think that if you don't go through the communication channel, no one will find out that you are passing a note! Strictly speaking, you all have a volume of tens of kilometers long, and you can kill tens of thousands of lives when you shine your spear! Can you not be so innocent!

[Don't look at it, don't make a fuss and shout, you are 300% responsible for this innocuous but weird variable situation.] 】

【…… I?! Why should I be held accountable for this?! Is this reasonable?! 】

[Reasonable.] Now keep your mind in my hands and don't think about messing around. We can't find enough powerful think tank directors right now, the power of that stone is more important and useful, and my power is responsible for orchestrating all the data flows and variables. 】

[Then you still dare to tell them that you want to use a soul with strong enough feelings for Angelon as a ritual anchor, and then another strong enough psionic to provide energy, so that they can find a way to 'pull' him back?] Wait, wait. 】

Mr. Lamizanne Kalosini's vigilance and caution, but his desire to try (to die) is evident at this moment.

[Finally! It's finally me, an ordinary librarian! Heroes save the ...... on the stage of this galaxy Is it time to save the original body? 】

What do you think? Perturabo was flying like a claw, typing out thousands of lines of code in twenty-two minutes and doing a quick math of them.

[Some people who can't even beat a Space Marine recruit and can't even handle a big impurity, don't think about anything like being crowned on the galactic stage. Honestly, give me the computing power of the Iron Lord, even if you participated in Operation Saving Anglon. The person in charge this time, Sir Ma-Kaduer, although in this regard...... Well, it's not too professional, but it can barely be used, after all, it is also qualified to pluck the strings of fate a little. 】

【…… Pepe, baby, how can you give up on yourself! So your own body is a wet piece battery! Daddy doesn't allow ——! 】

[What do you think of again, play this!] Who's your son?! Hell, you don't mention that word- (Olympia foul mouthed)!!!! 】

Apparently someone blurted out a certain word that inappropriately triggered certain lines of cause and effect and strange mechanisms in such places, and to make matters worse, the most experienced psionic spellcaster, Sir Kadure, was still in his meditation room before finishing his meditation preparations.

Airplanes.

Millions of lines of light and dark on the floor of the hall vibrated at the same time.

Airplanes.

The sound of the "strings" has been transmitted silently and loudly to millions of worlds.

Airplanes.

"What's going on?!" The space was deformed, applauded, and distorted, and the empty air began to crackle, and a burning staff "split" out of thin air appeared from the gap, followed by an old man with a frowning brow, and his voice had a rare urgency.

"What's going on with the resonance vibration of that power just now?!"

He turned his face to the pretty black and white lace shepherd dog head that appeared on Daring Do - and then turned back as if he had been stabbed in the eye, and he steadied himself and turned away again.

"This level of variables shouldn't be at this point! There will be additional distractions from what we are going to do! ”

"I know!" Perturabo's electronic voice was tinged with exasperation, and he roared angrily at a figure in gold armor, "Dorne! （DORNNNNNN！ Isn't it okay?! You can't do this little thing?! ”

Drawn from the ceiling and walls, a myriad of flickering working cables from the back of the head to the lumbar spine, looking like a steel angel with huge wings, the Iron Blood's master control soul turned to their side with some aggrievedness to show that he had done his best, and Perturabo yelled angrily for him to "turn his head away from that expression." ”

I don't know who secretly laughed.

The cheerful positive mood of work infects everyone like the sunshine that dispels the gloom.

"Okay, let's see how far this 'pull' can 'pull'......"

(End of chapter)