He couldn't just stand by and watch Olsen, his capable subordinate, be 'snapped' by a single word from the Lion, could he?
If that were the case, where would his prestige be?
Putting everything else aside, even this Dark Angel Chapter wouldn't dare to trust him anymore. So, whether out of selfishness or other reasons, Emrys was forced by the Lion to step forward.
"Um… Lord the Lion."
Emrys braced himself and stepped forward, "I think, since Olsen didn't commit a major error, and he timely halted the rebellion process, and has also earned quite a few merits in his subsequent atonement—how about giving him another chance?"
"You want to plead for him?"
The Lion's gaze suddenly turned cold, and his tone deepened, "Boy, do you know—he has already crossed the line for an Astartes?!"
As an Astartes, the Emperor's Death Angel, the most crucial point, from the very beginning of their creation, was already etched into their genes.
Loyalty! Loyalty! And damn more loyalty!
Loyalty is not absolute, absolute is not loyal!
In the Warhammer Universe, disloyalty can lead to serious consequences, far beyond just rebellion!
This was also the reason the Lion couldn't forgive Olsen. While Zabriel was a Fallen Angel, he never thought of joining Chaos, and even occasionally sought trouble with Chaos scum.
But Olsen was different; he had already conceived the idea. Although he hadn't put it into practice yet, from the moment the idea formed, he was already unforgivable.
Facing the Lion's oppressive gaze, Emrys was a bit nervous, but he still stood firm, "Yes, I know, but I still believe he should be given a chance!"
"On what grounds?"
The Lion suddenly stood up, his huge figure, carrying immense pressure, descended upon Emrys.
Seeing this, Olsen was deeply moved. He bit his lip and said to Emrys, "Lord, this is my sin, you don't have to."
But Emrys interrupted him. He mustered his courage and looked directly at the Lion, whose face was a mask of frost, "On the grounds that you have already appointed me as the First Watch Knight and the grandmaster of the Sons of Caliban Chapter, I have the reason, and the qualification!"
The Lion's eyes were dark, like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment.
However, just as Emrys was racking his brain on how to save Olsen, the Lion snorted coldly, "Good, you have backbone. Since you want to save him, for your sake, I will not pursue his responsibility. But if I ever find any sign of rebellion from him again, then you will also be held accountable!"
With that, the Lion angrily flicked his sleeve and left.
Zabriel quickly followed, giving Emrys and a panting, fortunately alive Olsen a strange look as he departed.
However, after leaving the control room, the anger on the Lion's face instantly receded, replaced by a subtle smile.
Zabriel witnessed this and couldn't help but sigh inwardly, his estimation of Emrys rising a few notches.
"Perhaps, from the very beginning, the Lion did it on purpose—he never intended to punish Olsen, but merely used this opportunity to establish Emrys' authority in the hearts of this Chapter and Olsen."
As the saying goes, bystanders see most clearly.
The Lion played the bad cop, Emrys played the good cop, and in this back and forth, Emrys' position in the hearts of this coming home Dark Angel—no, Sons of Caliban Chapter—was already as solid as a mountain.
But—why?!
Zabriel looked at the Lion, deeply puzzled.
With Luther's example, how could the Lion still dare to do this, letting Emrys take charge of the Sons of Caliban and establish prestige? Wasn't he afraid of causing another schism?
He hesitated to speak.
Seeing this, the Lion spoke calmly, "I know what you are worried about, but this boy is different—in short, what happened today, do not speak of it."
"Yes, Lord the Lion."
Zabriel sighed. Seeing the Lion's demeanor, he couldn't help but click his tongue, feeling that this Primarch was a bit too fond of Emrys.
Meanwhile, in the ship's bridge control room.
Olsen, who had escaped calamity, felt both the relief of surviving and a deeper sense of guilt.
Emrys also breathed a sigh of relief. Confronting the Lion, the pressure was enough to make even him nervous, fearing that the other party might, in a fit of rage, directly crush Olsen to death.
This was no exaggeration at all.
Given the Lion's temper, those who opposed him either had their heads hammered into their torsos or were flattened into meat paste; very few remained standing.
It could only be said that the Lion, tens of thousands of years later, was indeed different from the once proud and arrogant Lion.
"Don't overthink it."
Emrys walked over and patted Olsen, who was still kneeling, on the shoulder, comforting him, "I said I would protect you all and absolve you of your sins, and I will definitely do it."
"Yes, he really did it." Olsen was still somewhat dazed. He looked up at the face close to him, and a wave of emotion surged in his heart, "Lord, you didn't have to plead for me. We were already mentally prepared for this when we joined you."
At this moment, the nearly a hundred Dark Angels, who had remained silent in the back, all knelt on one knee.
Though they didn't voice it, deep in their hearts, they were very grateful to Emrys for saving their Chapter Master. This kindness was even greater than when he had absolved them of their sins!
"Just as the Lion said—"
Emrys looked at them, taking a deep breath, "From now on, you are no longer Fallen Angels, nor do you bear sin. You will become members of the Sons of Caliban, continuing to fight for the Emperor, and for the Lion!"
"In the name of Caliban, we—are willing to be the Lion's, the Emperor's, and your blade, to drive out Chaos, and atone with blood!"
Nearly a hundred Dark Angels—no, they were the Sons of Caliban—made a solemn vow before Emrys.
At this moment, Olsen, with his head bowed, seemed to have made a decision. He suddenly spoke, "Lord, there is one more thing I hope you can grant me."
Emrys, in a good mood, didn't think too much and nodded, "Alright, tell me what it is first."
"The eight of us, including myself, who were originally part of the Crowned Angels, wish to undergo 'Primaris' surgery." Olsen's tone was exceptionally firm and resonant.
Emrys' brows furrowed.
He actually had the plans for Primaris Astartes himself, because of "Dora Cawl" and the "Ultramarines," the Silver Templars sent here by Calgar actually possessed this technology.
But Primaris Astartes were usually trained from a young age. For veterans like Olsen to undergo "Primaris Upgrade" surgery, the mortality rate was extremely high!
This was also the reason for his silence.
"Can you tell me why?" Emrys asked with a heavy heart, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"This is the result of our collective discussion, Lord." Olsen slowly said, "In the future war situation, Primaris will inevitably replace the Astartes, and we—do not want to fall behind, nor do we want to become a burden!"
"You should know how high the risk of Primaris surgery is for your physical condition, right?" Emrys was still reluctant. He would be heartbroken to lose even one veteran like Olsen!
These veterans were the Chapter's most precious treasure!
"That's not a reason."
Emrys looked directly at him, as if trying to see through Olsen to his truest thoughts deep inside.
He didn't believe that Olsen would participate in the Primaris project just for this. Even if they were 'outdated' Astartes, they were by no means weaker than a Primaris Astartes.
So, that wasn't the reason!
"You are still so perceptive."
Olsen gave a wry smile and whispered, "Because we learned from Archmagos Carol that only Primaris Astartes are qualified to participate in the 'God-Forging' project. We don't want to lady this opportunity!"
Upon hearing this, Emrys was taken aback.
The 'God-Forging Project' was the 'Astartes' he had seen in Carol's laboratory, but the specific details were still unknown. The only thing known was that this project combined the essence of multiple Worlds, and it had the potential to revolutionize the entire concept of Astartes in the Warhammer Universe—a grand plan!
But the problem was, this project was still in its infancy!
"Please rest assured, Lord." Seeing his silence, Olsen pressed on, insisting, "We are already prepared for failure. Even if the modification fails, we will be interred in 'Dreadnoughts' and continue to fight for you!"
These words moved Emrys deeply.
To rather be interred in a Dreadnought than forgo Primaris surgery—Olsen and the others' determination made him hesitate to speak. Even if he wanted to stop them, he didn't know what to say.
Looking at Olsen's resolute gaze, Emrys eventually relented. He couldn't refuse such a plea from a veteran. "Alright, I—I promise you."
Finally, Emrys sighed deeply, patting Olsen's shoulder, "I have only one request: all of you must survive—what I need are not a few Dreadnoughts, but you people, understand?"
"Yes, Lord!"
Olsen's face lit up with joy.