Chapter 96: Failed Education
Including this blood sample, Francis had now collected the blood of fourteen Primarchs. The feeling fascinated him, like collecting stamps. He longed to draw the Emperor's blood someday.
After taking a sip, he found it similar to Guilliman's, nothing particularly amazing. If he had to describe the effect, he felt that he missed the Emperor even more, and his will had become much stronger.
Francis set down the vial.
But it was all for naught. Even with 4,000 men, they couldn't produce an Astartes, no matter how hard they tried. Francis felt a headache coming on as he thought about the big battle about to begin. What if all his men were killed?
He called Sarpedon in from outside and said earnestly, "Why don't you consider adding the genes of other Primarchs? That way you'll become stronger."
Upon hearing this, Sarpedon's face immediately turned pale, and he murmured in a panicked manner, "How can that be allowed! Wouldn't we become bastards then? That's unacceptable! A son cannot have two fathers! Are we too weak? We can change..."
Seeing Sarpedon's ashen face, Francis quickly tried to comfort him. "No, no, no! A friend asked me to ask. How could I do such a terrible thing? You guys are the best."
Francis had to say a lot to appease the other man. It was a truly thrilling exchange.
Sarpedon nodded slowly and stepped back.
Since this approach wouldn't work, Francis had no choice but to find another way.
"Ogryn genes, Goliath genes, ork genes, and white flesh genes are mixed together. Then impurities are removed, and the mixture is washed, filtered, and allowed to settle..."
Francis stood in front of a large cauldron from which a green light shimmered continuously. This time, he didn't make it very detailed, since there wasn't enough time, and he could only quickly produce usable combat power.
In half a day, a shaped embryo was produced, which expanded rapidly like a balloon. While Francis was arranging for the Soul Drinkers to make potions and equipment, the embryo had already grown to the size of a mature body.
The culture medium dissipated with a soft hiss. A humanoid creature over two meters tall appeared. Its green skin was covered with countless white stripes, and its body was covered with well-developed muscles that even surpassed those of Astartes. However, the creature's vacant gaze made Francis feel vaguely uneasy.
Francis approached the creature. "Count how many things are here." He pointed to the beakers on the lab bench, worried that the beast might not recognize them.
The creature pointed to the beakers on the table and said, "One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... eight... eight... eight... eight... eight..."
Upon witnessing this scene, Francis rubbed his face in helpless frustration. The saying "you get what you pay for" became a tangible reality at this moment.
"Being able to count to eight is fine too..." he muttered.
He then continued to test the creature with simple commands. "Sit down. Shake hands. Pee."
After a series of simple commands, Francis handed a bolter to the creature and pointed at a target in the distance, shouting, "Attack it!"
"Aaaaaah! Attack!" Upon receiving the command, the creature immediately grabbed its bolter and charged toward the target.
He grabbed the gun barrel and slammed it onto the target, accidentally triggering the weapon's firing stud and shooting a bolt into his own thigh. Then he looked at Francis, confused, not understanding why he was injured.
Francis rubbed his cheeks vigorously, muttering, "No way... this is how quick production is. This is how quick production is. Something is better than nothing."
Just as Francis was feeling the pain of his failure, he called Sarpedon back in from outside the door.
"I'm giving you a tough task. If you can do this well, it will greatly reduce the number of our wounded in the future." Francis looked at him intently. "I'll only feel at ease if you handle this. After all, you're our chief."
Looking into Francis's expectant eyes, Sarpedon felt immense satisfaction and immediately patted his chest. "Primarch, rest assured! Consider Mission accomplished! The Soul Drinkers will never fail!"
Seeing that he had achieved the desired effect, Francis immediately put his arm around Sarpedon's shoulder and pointed to the creature that was still playing with the wall. "Go and test his intelligence. If he's suitable, we'll build an army of these creatures."
Upon hearing that it was such a small matter, Sarpedon was even more confident. "No problem, Primarch! What is the name of this creature? I've never seen it before, and I don't know what kind it is."
Francis answered, "Its race is Ogryn ork."
Sarpedon nodded approvingly, a good name.
Soon, Sarpedon brought the Ogryn ork to his laboratory, and Francis finally had some peace and quiet. In this way, he could continue to study other things.
However, it wasn't long before he heard Sarpedon's roar. "I told you to shoot it! I told you to shoot it! Don't smash! Like this! Aim at the target, then pull the trigger! Try it again!"
"Aaaaaaah! It wasn't smashing! It wasn't smashing! Why is it so difficult to teach you?!"
"Aaaaaaah!"
Sarpedon roared madly, looking at the bewildered Ogryn ork. He had never seen anyone so stupid. No matter how he taught it, the creature just kept smashing things.
Two hours later, Sarpedon emerged from the laboratory and patted a Soul Drinker subordinate in front of him on the shoulder.
"I'm giving you a tough task. If you can do this well, it will greatly reduce the number of our wounded in the future." Sarpedon looked at him intently. "I only feel at ease if you do this. After all, you're my most trusted warrior."
Looking into Sarpedon's expectant eyes, the Soul Drinker felt immense satisfaction and immediately patted his chest. "Don't worry, Chief! Mission accomplished! The Soul Drinkers will never fail!"
Near the planet Trissooan, the Vengeance Souls warship floated in the void. Space was swallowed by coldness and darkness, and a deathly atmosphere permeated the starry sky.
Inside the cabin, a stench of decay permeated the air. Chaotic runes were etched on the walls, and the smell of death and rot filled the air, as if every inch of space was decaying.
Lorgar and Erebus walked toward the massive metal door. As they entered the interior, Horus stood before the warship's control panel, his figure like a gigantic shadow. The surrounding dark energy coalesced into a dense fog. His eyes no longer shone with wisdom and decisiveness, but were completely swallowed by darkness and chaos. His empty gaze was filled with unfathomable darkness.
Lorgar gazed at Horus, his heart filled with anger, disappointment, and sorrow. At first, he had been angry that he wasn't chosen, but now he was somewhat disappointed, as this didn't seem to be what he wanted. What he saw was a thoroughly corrupt monster controlled by Chaos.
He stepped forward. "Horus, what have you become? You were once our respected leader, but now..." He trailed off, his voice low.
Horus did not respond immediately. He turned his head. His face was no longer handsome, but distorted and sickly, as if crushed by the power of darkness.
"You chose this, Lorgar. Horus is already dead." His voice was deep and threatening. "You plotted to kill me yourself."
"No, no, no! I am only following the revelation of the four gods. Everything the gods do has a deeper meaning." Lorgar's voice rose defensively. "I absolutely did nothing wrong! God is never wrong!"
He took a step back, his anger rising. He had once been Horus's closest comrade-in-arms, and seeing his former leader fall into such a state filled him with mockery and sorrow.
"Horus, you have completely lost yourself and become a puppet. You have fallen and are no longer fit to lead us." He strode toward Horus, his eyes filled with challenge and disdain.
A flash of anger crossed Horus's eyes, but the power of darkness instantly swallowed up this emotion. His figure began to grow even larger, and black energy surged in like a powerful tide, enveloping the entire room in a chaotic aura.
Horus wore a cold smile, a smile of conquest, as if he had already foreseen Lorgar's ultimate fate. "Do you want to challenge me? You haven't truly understood yet. The power of Chaos far exceeds your imagination. You cannot escape it. It will devour you and shape you."
As soon as he finished speaking, Horus stretched out his palm. Black energy swirled at his fingertips, and the air began to vibrate. Lorgar felt a strong attraction and pressure suddenly come over him, as if an invisible giant hand was gripping him tightly. His body was forced to stop, unable to move.
"Chaos will grant you true power," Horus whispered. "You will belong to me forever, to Chaos, and become my mighty weapon."
Lorgar felt a harrowing force invade his body. Dark energy spread through his veins like flames, scorching his flesh and soul.
"Ughhhh... Let me go!" Lorgar screamed.
"Aaaaaah... I'm going to explode!"
His armor began to twist, merging with the power of Chaos. The once gleaming metal surface became corrupted and shattered, revealing strange runes. The light in his eyes gradually faded, becoming empty and lost.
"You cannot resist, Lorgar," Horus said coldly. "You will become my servant, a part of Chaos."
His body trembled violently as he struggled in agony, but his resistance was utterly insignificant in the face of such overwhelming power. His consciousness began to blur, and every inch of his skin was changing, becoming more deformed and corrupted.
[End of Chapter]