Warhammer: My buddy has too many secrets!

When facing her offspring, the power within the Feather of Saintess seemed to be activated.

"impossible."

The weeping were almost groans:

"This is impossible..."

"This is……"

"Could this be...?"

Looking at the faces of these tough men before him, Lancelot felt a mix of emotions.

After the archangel's death, the blood angel suffered damage etched into its genes. The fact that a single feather could have such an effect is a testament to the influence of Saint Geres in the past.

So Lancelot stepped forward to hand the reliquary to Malakin, but the Chapter Master did not reach out to take it, not because he did not want to, but because he dared not.

"Elder, you are an elder who has witnessed the Primarch walking on the earth. Please tell us the story of the Primarch."

As the Chapter Master of Malakin spoke, all the weeping crowd focused their gaze on Lancelot. Everyone leaned back as the Chapter Master's words struck their souls and bodies like a city wall.

Lancelot...

Although the weepers knew that a noble person was on board their flagship, this noble person not only provided them with excellent weaponry, but also gifted them with holy relics of Saint Geres!

But! Even so, they never imagined that this noble person's identity was so ancient! According to the Chapter Master of Malakin, this noble person had actually walked alongside the Emperor and the Primarch?!

This immense impact struck their very souls.

Lancelot, however, didn't seem to mind.

When you're out and about, you give yourself your own identity.

Moreover, I had indeed witnessed part of the story and knew the general plot. After becoming an Astartes, those memories became even clearer.

Since the weeping ones want me to tell them stories, then let's do it!

"sure."

Lancelot placed the reliquary in the very center of the monastery, and in an instant, the golden light seemed to surge tenfold. The warp seemed to ripple at that moment, and a warm power flowed into the church and into the bodies of the weeping souls.

This force surged into their genetic seeds, into the depths of their souls, into that place that had been eroded by despair and sorrow for far too long.

That place was illuminated.

In the shadows, the commander of the weeping band, a tough man who had watched his brothers die on countless battlefields, was also moved to tears.

Tears streamed down his scarred face. Behind him, more than three hundred mourners were not watching him, but their bodies reacted before their will could.

That was the instinctive response of the gene seed to the original body, that was the pilgrimage of the holy blood to the source of the holy blood.

Commander Malakin then left the stage, handing it over to Lancelot.

Standing under the spotlight, Lancelot looked at the grieving people in front of him, who were almost in tears. Seeing these warriors, who were taller than eight-foot men, showing such genuine emotion, Lancelot's heart was also touched.

Looking at the weeping crowd before him, Lancelot understood that this feather truly held great significance for them.

Because this is not just a sacred object, but will also become a spiritual pillar for those who weep.

Lancelot felt he might have underestimated the influence of the Sanctuary relics on the weepers.

Although it was just a feather, a feather imbued with the power of Saint Jereth, from the moment they obtained it, they were no longer cursed beings.

Their ability to obtain feathers signifies that they too have come under the watchful eye of Saint Jeremy.

From this day forward, they should be able to call themselves the proud sons of Saint Geres! They will no longer drift like duckweed in the Milky Way, but will have a true spiritual haven.

Thinking this, Lancelot spoke:

"I give this feather, imbued with the power of Saint Jereth, to the weeping one, not out of faith, nor out of pity. I simply feel that a hero's relic should return to the proud offspring of a hero."

"Saint-Jesus should be proud of you. The Weepers possess the excellent qualities that Holy Blood Angels should have. You have come to understand your guardians while living among mortals. The angels of the Empire are not there to kill, but to protect. To practice this ideal requires a great deal of sacrifice. May Saint-Jesus protect you."

Lancelot looked at the crowd in front of him and asked them a question instead.

How much do you know about the father of your genes?

Upon hearing this, the weeping men began to tell Lancelot their stories all at once.

"Lord Saint Geres is the Emperor's ninth son!"

"He is the noblest and most benevolent Primarch in the galaxy. He was born on the barren Baal, grew up in the radiation-ravaged desert, and led the pure-blooded tribes of Baal against the mutated aliens and mutants, uniting the homeworld with power and mercy."

"He has pure white wings. He descends upon the battlefield, an invincible warrior and a compassionate leader."

"During Horus's rebellion, he defended the Terran palace to the death, shedding his last drop of blood for the Emperor and the Empire of Man, dying at the hands of the traitor Horus aboard the Soul of Vengeance!"

In the end, Saint Jereth died at the hands of Horus, and the situation became somewhat chaotic. Everyone in the legion was flushed, and the commander of the Malakin Warband suddenly turned pale. He nudged the think tank next to him and told him to quickly remind everyone to behave themselves.

Lancelot, however, did not pay much attention to this. Listening to their stories, Lancelot also learned that the Weepers knew very little about their own Primarch.

After all, it was a subsidiary group established later, and a product of the cursed army, so it didn't have much contact with the Holy Blood Angel Mother Group and naturally didn't know anything about Saintess.

Since that's the case, let me tell them a little story about the Primarch.

Lancelot took a deep breath and nodded gently at the weeping crowd before him: "You are right, but Saint Jereth in the scriptures is the archangel praised by the empire, but you do not know his true appearance, his true suffering and greatness... It all started with Baal."

Lancelot began to speak, and the weeping crowd fell silent at that moment, watching Lancelot on the pulpit as if he were the most obedient students.

And so Lancelot began to tell the earliest stories of Saint Geres, stories that seemed to be engraved in the genes of the Holy Blood Angels, and as Lancelot spoke, they all seemed to appear before their eyes.

Lancelot spoke at a moderate pace, but to the weeping crowd, it seemed as fast as a dream.

Perhaps because they had just witnessed those sacred feathers, a sense of happiness etched into their genes welled up within them, as if they too had spent that long time alongside the Primarch...

"I saw him with my own eyes. During that glorious period of the Great Expedition, he stood at the forefront of the Ninth Legion's battle formation, his long golden hair fluttering in the wind, his white wings spread wide, able to block out the sunlight from the entire battlefield..."

"He was never a god high above. He would mourn for his lost children and sigh at the ravaged planet. What he longed for was never conquest and slaughter, but peace for mankind, so that every human being could live in peace."

"You should know that Saint Geres possessed powerful prophetic abilities. At that time, he had already foreseen his own end, that he would die at the hands of his brother."

"He foresaw the purgatory of the Siege of Terra, yet he never flinched, never fled. He could have chosen another path, but for the sake of humanity, he resolutely faced his inevitable death."

"He boarded the Soul of Vengeance to face his once closest brother. There is no need for sorrow; he shielded the Emperor from a deadly blade of Chaos."

As Lancelot finished speaking, a slight tremor suddenly appeared in his eyes:

"But these stories don't seem to need my retelling. If I have to tell them, then I only have one sentence!"

"For a great being, the death of the material universe is not the end! I assure you, Saint Jeraces has not left this universe, but is still watching over you!"

Lancelot's words seemed to rise in intensity at this moment, and all the mourners who had been holding back their sobs stood up in unison. Lancelot looked down at everyone before him and said:

"Uphold your beliefs, fight for humanity, fight for a better future! One day! You will meet your great father of genes in Valhalla!"

"Then you can proudly tell him that you have always fought for humanity, never disgraced the Ninth Legion's name, and never betrayed the bloodline it bestowed upon you!"

Lancelot got carried away and, remembering Primarch Anglona's words in the Reversed World, threw this big pie at the Weeping Ones!

"Furthermore, I promise and assure you, Saint Geres will surely return!"

Upon hearing this, the entire monastery fell into an indescribable silence... But after only a brief silence... a thunderous roar of cheers seemed to lift the ceiling of the monastery!

"For Saint Geres!"

"Fight for a better future!"

The thunderous shouts became the main theme on the "Mother of Tears".

Meanwhile, in the subspace, a figure seemed to sense an astonishing surge of emotion emanating from the direction of the Weeping One. More importantly, a very familiar power fluctuation appeared in that direction.

He cast his gaze and discovered that the weeping ones were sending an encrypted message to the Holy Blood Angel Mother Order, so he readily added a bit of power to the message.