Within the Sanctum,
the pale, motionless revenant seated upon the throne had vanished.
In his place stood a gene-primarch brimming with surging vitality, his eyes burning with fury—a demigod from the myths of the Ecclesiarchy.
Guilliman’s memories still lingered on the Battle of Thessala, when he had fought Fulgrim.
That despicable wretch had exploited the wound left behind by Kor Phaeron of the Word Bearers, grievously injuring him during their duel, causing him to be poisoned and defeated.
Guilliman remembered that after the duel, his sons had carried him back to the Macragge’s Honour.
They had wept in despair, shouting for the Apothecaries to come quickly.
Yet no matter what they did, they could not stop the Primarch’s life force from ebbing away.
In the end, Guilliman’s heart stopped beating, and the flow of his blood ceased as well.
His soul stood upon a cliff, and before him lay an ugly, boiling sea of souls.
Driven by the laughter of mad gods that churned heaven and earth, it let out a terrifying roar.
“Father!!”
That was the last sound Guilliman had made. He had cried out to his father for aid.
In the end, a cold golden radiance enveloped him, isolating him from the roaring sea of souls.
After that, he knew nothing.
When he opened his eyes again, Guilliman found himself in the midst of a chaotic battlefield.
His damaged armor had been replaced by a brand-new suit of azure battleplate.
In his hand, the Emperor’s Sword burned with golden flame, continuously releasing resplendent light.
Guilliman’s gaze swept across the battlefield, and he swiftly assessed the current situation.
He was unfamiliar with the weapons and equipment of the allies at his side, and with the distorted changes in the enemy’s appearance.
But with wisdom surpassing that of mortals, he needed only an instant to understand who was the enemy and who was friend.
With the Primarch’s awakening, the entire Sanctum seemed as though a spell of silence had been cast upon it.
Although the flames of war had already spread across all Ultramar, and every part of Macragge was under bombardment, the inside of the Sanctum remained eerily quiet—so silent one could hear a needle drop.
Everyone present—enemy and ally alike—felt awe from the depths of their hearts as they witnessed the return of a figure from myth: the Thirteenth Son of the Emperor.
“Blood for the Blood God.”
An incoherent roar shattered the silence.
A Chaos Lord who worshiped the Blood God charged toward Guilliman upon the throne.
The muscles all over his body were hideous and terrifying; the muscle fibers protruding through his skin were suffused with power that did not belong to the material universe.
A savage rune of Khorne sprawled across his face, making him appear especially horrifying.
Without question, this was a Chaos Lord deeply favored by Khorne.
The blessed rune upon his face represented that he had once offered eighty-eight worlds to the Blood God in a single sacrifice.
The battle-axe in his hand dripped blood without cease, and the screaming faces of the dead struggled within the blood.
The Chaos Lord leapt up, hurtling straight toward the Primarch.
He wanted to hack off Guilliman’s head and offer it as a gift to the Blood God.
Guilliman moved. His speed was so fast that only Yvraine and the Thousand-Faced One, those two followers of the God of Death, could capture all his movements.
Shock appeared on the faces of the two Ynnari. This was a speed even they could not attain.
For a Primarch to be hailed as a myth was by no means an exaggeration.
The Emperor’s Sword traced an afterimage through the air, and the Chaos Lord was split in two at the waist.
The two severed halves of his corpse, propelled by tremendous force, were flung onto the distant ground, leaving behind shocking trails of blood.
In his heart, Daqi silently raised a thumb.
Does the Blood God, in all his venerable glory, know that this unlucky child of his is this brave?
Was it Fish Leong who gave you the courage to dare launch an attack on a Primarch of your own accord??
[Congratulations. You have successfully completed the mission: escort Archmagos Cawl to Macragge and revive the Thirteenth Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, in order to resist the crisis of the Great Rift.]
[Rewards obtained: 2,000 EXP, 2,000 points, Reputation +60, Protective Sunglasses ×1]
A pair of green-quality protective sunglasses appeared in the warehouse.
After wearing them, Charisma +10, Defense +10.
Daqi chose to equip the sunglasses without the slightest hesitation.
There was an unwritten rule in the gaming world: the stranger the outfit, the stronger the combat power.
That a hundred-ton heavy cannon mecha could not break through a bikini’s defense was an iron law of the gaming world.
Yvraine was the first to notice that Daqi had put on sunglasses.
She was very curious—where exactly did this fellow keep pulling his equipment from!!
The sound of the berserker’s corpse hitting the ground broke the spell of silence.
With an earth-shaking, hate-filled roar, the warriors of the Black Legion threw themselves forward, charging at Roboute Guilliman without regard for their lives.
Guilliman stepped forward and met them head-on.
The slaughter began.
The first to die were the sorcerers. Their dark witchcraft had shaken the foundations of the Sanctum.
Guilliman raised his gauntlet, and the Hand of Dominion unleashed a storm of bolt shells. In an instant, the fallen psykers were reduced to dust.
Next came the berserkers of the Black Legion. One after another, they imitated the Chaos Lord who had been cut in half, roaring without regard for anything as they charged straight toward the Primarch.
Naturally, their end was the same as their predecessor’s. In the blink of an eye, they were all turned into chunks of meat wrapped inside armor, the brevity of the process enough to make one’s heart tremble.
The traitors of the Black Legion tried to raise their boltguns and unleash a terrifying barrage.
However, the bolt shells detonated against the surface of the Primarch’s armor, and not a single one could penetrate that inviolable suit of plate.
Guilliman was like a Tyrannosaurus charging into a flock of sheep—one punch for each little Chaos brat.
A roar containing the utmost fury rang out.
With the first punch, a warrior of the Black Legion was blasted into midair, blood scattering between the two points of where he had been in life and where he fell in death.
With the second punch, a Chaos Terminator was struck. Like a cannonball, he was hurled into a copper-plated marble pillar.
His dismembered body, still carrying the remaining force of the punch, smashed the entire solid pillar apart.
Such terrifying strength left Amarich, Galain, and the others utterly shocked.
One had to know that Terminators were hailed as human-shaped tanks and regarded as a Chapter’s great killing weapons. Once deployed, they could often decide victory in a single stroke.
Yet now, one had been hammered into a wall by a single punch.
A Chaos Space Marine swung a power fist as sharp as a spear-point, smashing it toward Guilliman’s chest.
However, what he did not expect was that before the blow could land, his arm and torso had already parted ways.
Guilliman’s counterattack sent his head flying from his neck. As his headless corpse collapsed limply to the ground, blisters were rising on the cross-section of his neck from the high temperature caused by friction.
Every strike from the Primarch was swift as lightning. The superhuman senses possessed by the traitors had no way of saving their lives.
No one was the Primarch’s match.
Even those Chaos warriors who managed to counterattack successfully gained nothing more than bullets rebounding from the Primarch’s master-crafted armor or sword blades snapping upon it.
Guilliman’s might encouraged everyone.
When the Black Legion all surged toward the Primarch, the pressure on the loyalists dropped sharply, allowing them to reform their ranks and launch a counterattack against the enemy.
“Praise the Emperor.”
“Thank You for Your mercy. What virtue or ability do we possess, that we should receive Your favor and have him returned to us?”
Saint Celestine gazed at the Primarch’s mighty form, her face filled with emotion.
A true son of the God-Emperor, a demigod of the battlefield, would lead mankind, command the Imperium, and go forth to meet the darkness that gnawed at humanity day and night.
She offered the Emperor her most sincere thanks, grateful that He had granted her the chance to personally witness this great moment.
The fire of faith surged along the Living Saint’s blood, and her eyes projected golden radiance.
A warrior of the Black Legion brandished a chainsword and charged straight at Celestine.
He thought that while the Living Saint was praying, her spirit would be unable to focus, making it the best moment to attack.
However, that thought could not have been more wrong.
Resplendent light erupted from Celestine’s body.
All her previous wounds were erased, and her dead handmaidens were reborn within the flames.
She swung her blazing longsword, and with a single strike, pierced through the traitor’s body.
Celestine sprang into the air, soaring over the crowd, then dove down to attack the traitors on the ground.
The impact of her landing raised a surging wave of air, sending the surrounding traitors flying and rescuing the Inquisitor who had fallen into danger.
“I was wrong,” Greyfax shouted, her voice rising over the roar of bolters. “I apologize for my foolishness. I once suspected you were a claw of Chaos, but now it seems you are the manifestation of the Emperor’s will, His incarnation in the mortal world.”
“Vigilance is no sin, Katarinya Greyfax,” the Living Saint replied as she cleaved through the enemies rushing at her. “You serve our Lord loyally, just as I do.”
“Do not apologize. Remember: remain vigilant forever.”
“Thank you.” Greyfax nodded. “I will do as you wish, Saint. I will remain forever vigilant, forever loyal, until the end of my life, until my soul is utterly extinguished.”
At that moment, Daqi, who was currently fighting with a chainsword in one hand and the Ruyi Staff in the other, received the notification that his mission had been completed.
[Congratulations. You have completed the mission: assist Inquisitor Greyfax in monitoring Celestine’s abnormal behavior.]
[Rewards obtained: 800 EXP, 800 points, Reputation +60, Jetpack ×1]
A green-quality jetpack appeared in the warehouse.
With a single thought from Daqi, the jetpack installed itself onto his back.
The jetpack likewise possessed a blessing affix: Omnissiah’s Powerful Thrust.
Affix effect: When falling from any height, if the pack is activated at the instant before landing to cushion the fall, all fall damage can be completely negated.
Evaluation: “I reckon as long as ya turn on da jets when ya fall, ya won’t get hurt!!”
“Heresy!!”
After reading the introduction to the affix’s effect, Daqi silently offered his assessment in his heart.
This jetpack had definitely been produced by the Big Mek Factory.