Chapter 277: The Child of Vengeance, the Child of War

The hum of machinery echoed as Belisarius Cawl's automated reliquary fully engulfed Roboute Guilliman upon his throne.

The hum in Calgar's ears was indistinguishable from the death knell; despair nearly swallowed his soul.

But as if to heap even greater despair upon Calgar, the void shield of the Hera Fortress shattered with a deafening crack.

Amid a roar from the Warp, the void shield that had protected the entire Hera Fortress collapsed violently; the Chaos Space Marines' Fearclaw drop pods tore through the sky, wreathed in flame, and slammed directly into the Guilliman Sanctum.

The impact unleashed a storm that shattered the marble floor, toppled and crumbled the surrounding pillars, and destroyed the carvings chronicling Roboute Guilliman's glorious deeds.

The Hellflayers, freed from the Ultramarines' interceptors, also dove toward the Sanctum.

Sulfurous flames roared fiercely as the Fearclaw's hatch burst open.

Bellowing Khorne Berserkers surged forth, swinging power axes and chain swords into the fray.

This was the full force of a Chaos warband—the last reserve held by the Chaos lords—deployed at this very moment into the Guilliman Sanctum to fulfill the Warmaster Abaddon's mission.

Even the Chaos lord himself had descended with the Fearclaw into the Guilliman Sanctum.

The Chaos lord who commanded the entire warband stepped out from the hissing Fearclaw.

His entire body was a grotesque mass of muscle, the sinews bursting from his skin radiating terrifying energies alien to the material universe.

Thick blood coated his frame, blood seemingly drawn from the countless victims he had slain—blood that never dried, churning and roaring upon his flesh.

Upon his bull-like, exposed face, grotesque Khorne runes writhed, terrifying to behold.

Without doubt, this was a Chaos lord deeply favored by Khorne; his warband could destroy eighty-eight worlds—these monstrous beings, born solely for slaughter, rampaged through the Guilliman Sanctum.

The Grey Knights and the First Company Terminators combined numbered barely a hundred, and their strength had already been greatly depleted.

They were powerless against the full might of this terrifying Khorne Chaos warband.

And then there was that Chaos lord whose name Calgar did not know, yet whose presence radiated a terrifying aura—his power far exceeding that of any ordinary chapter master.

Calgar, the only one capable of opposing the Chaos demon lord, had his leg armor shattered; Voldus had expended nearly all his strength in battle against Digeris.

Despair spread through Calgar's heart.

And his despair seemed to nourish the Chaos lord.

The chain axe in the Khorne lord's hand hummed and roared; his bloody mouth opened, spewing forth torrents of crimson mist.

"In the name of the Blood God Khorne! In the name of the Warmaster Abaddon!"

"Son of Roboute Guilliman, I am he who tears off your skulls!"

"I am the son of Angron—my name is——————"

A tear-shaped spear suddenly pierced the entire battlefield; its sharp tip instantly severed the Khorne lord's neck, cleaving off his head.

The figure clad in linen robes flew across the battlefield as if soaring, landing atop the corpse of the Khorne lord.

The Khorne lord's severed head rolled back and forth beneath the linen-robed figure's feet.

"The Warp brings grim tidings: the Khorne Chaos lord died instantly in the Guilliman Sanctum, aged merely ten thousand years, ascended to the Blood God's steroid fortress."

"The deceased's name was… uh, anyway, forever remembered."

Zhou Yun spoke with mocking sarcasm, standing not far from Calgar.

Instantly, the entire Khorne warband let out bestial roars.

Their leader's death did not instill fear—it only further ignited their fury and bellowing as they charged toward the linen-robed figure atop the Khorne lord's corpse.

Despair welled again in Calgar's heart.

Even if the linen-robed figure stood not with the Chaos, even if he possessed such immense power,

he could not possibly slaughter an entire Chaos warband alone, nor could he stop these Khorne Berserkers from massacring the Ultramarines.

Yet at that moment, Zhou Yun shook the pouch on his belly.

Crimson-armored Astartes surged forth like a blood-red tide from his belly pouch.

Calgar stared in stunned silence; the crimson Astartes pouring from his pouch bore differing heraldries, yet all were clearly sons of Saint Sanguinius, from various Blood Angels chapters.

Such a mixed force violated the Codex Astartes, but Calgar had no energy left to care about such trivialities.

Using Roboute Guilliman's son's superhuman intellect, he quickly deduced that this army emerging from the pouch numbered roughly a thousand.

This was a force equal to a full chapter—no less than the Chaos warband that had infiltrated the Guilliman Sanctum!

"I'm a man with little sense of security. I can't sleep at night without carrying a whole chapter with me."

Zhou Yun looked at Calgar with sincere expression.

Screech————

At that moment, a low hum emanated from the reliquary behind Zhou Yun; sacred binary runes surged across its surface, slowly shifting from red to green.

Steam gushed continuously from its mechanical structure; within the heat, the reliquary's metal casing gradually crumbled apart.

In the infinite Warp, the Chaos Gods and their dark servants had been watching the Guilliman Sanctum all along.

They waited—for the Son of Vengeance to return from death, stirring the Warp into a raging storm,

waiting for a loyal Primarch to walk among humanity once more, bringing hope—only for Chaos to destroy and corrupt him.

Yet as their gaze lingered, those dark, blasphemous entities sensed another figure within the Sanctum worthy of attention.

The linen-robed figure—beautiful, powerful, alive, prescient—the one slaughtering the Black Legion.

The dark servants whispered among themselves, murmuring a suspicion—a seemingly impossible one.

Three of the Chaos Gods held their breath, straining to see more clearly.

They glimpsed, beneath the linen robe, a single white feather, like morning light, flashing past.

Khorne let out a roaring laugh, mocking his peers' stupidity.

Slaanesh emitted sixty-six ecstatic cries, licking his lips as he gazed upon the beautiful figure.

Nurgle smiled warmly, scattering seventy-seven new plagues across the galaxy to celebrate the return of a wondrous life.

Tzeentch let out ninety-nine piercing bird cries—first furious at this deviation from fate, then murmuring, "All is within the plan!"

And at the same moment, another event they had long awaited occurred.

A hot wind swept through the Sanctum; bell-like tones rang throughout the entire hall.

Belisarius Cawl's automated reliquary shattered completely, leaving only broken metal scattered across the floor.

And then, a figure appeared—causing every soul on the battlefield to hold their breath.

First to cry out in joy was Saint Celestine, soaring through the air; moved to tears, she sang a hymn of praise for the figure.

Then the Ultramarines, once swallowed by despair, suddenly felt a power they had never known before—the fire of hope blazing fiercely within them.

Leina swallowed hard, overwhelmed by profound emotion and awe.

The figure now seated upon the throne was no longer a pale, dying corpse—but the true.

Calgar stared at the noble, aristocratic face, frozen in disbelief.

The figure upon the throne kept his eyes closed, yet radiated vigilance and wisdom, his body shimmering with a faint glow; within his flesh, a roaring storm of gold and blue energy surged.

How could this figure be so… how could he resemble Calgar's gene-father so precisely?!

No, Calgar slowly widened his eyes—no.

That was.

That was the true Lord of the Thirteenth Legion, a son of the Emperor of Mankind, the gene-father of the Ultramarines.

The silence of the battlefield was shattered by a roar.

The linen-robed figure slightly shifted his body, deliberately allowing a frenzied Khorne Berserker to charge—roaring as he leapt toward the throne.

Both loyalists and traitors turned stunned gazes toward the courageous Berserker.

Clearly, they all wondered: had this fool inserted the Butcher's Nail too deep?!

Then Roboute Guilliman opened his eyes.

The Emperor's Sword, wreathed in unquenchable flame, slashed through the air in an arc; the Khorne Berserker's body was instantly severed at the waist.

Almost no one on the battlefield saw what had happened.

Only the linen-robed figure smiled faintly, as if thinking Guilliman's restoration was still insufficient.

Only the Thousand Sons and Ephrael Stern gasped—they had seen the Primarch's movement, and were awestruck by the incomprehensible power.

Only Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow slightly; he sensed a connection had formed between himself and Roboute Guilliman, similar to the one he shared with Sanguinius.

The Khorne Berserker's corpse lay at the foot of the steps; Roboute Guilliman, clad in the Armor of Fate, stood like a demigod among mortals.

In his hand, he held the Emperor's Sword, blazing with eternal flame—like Prometheus holding the fire of the sun—bringing back to the Imperium the long-forgotten hope and redemption.

Then Roboute Guilliman took a gentle breath, drawing from the material universe the sustenance required to sustain his existence.

His muscles instantly filled with power; his eyes grew clear and sharp.

The traitors who had turned to Chaos roared in fury; the Black Legion knew this was their final chance to complete their mission—the only thing left they could do.

The Khorne Berserkers charged the throne without regard for their lives, while the linen-robed figure stood amidst the tide of blood, seemingly allowing it all—yet also seemingly certain that the figure upon the throne feared none of these Berserkers.

Then Roboute Guilliman began to run.

He leapt over Calgar's fallen body on the stairs; the Emperor's Sword's blazing flame brought slaughter and death.

Every strike left a corpse; every punch claimed a life; the Black Legion's Khorne Berserkers became a corridor of corpses, as if welcoming the return of the Son of War.

Yet Roboute Guilliman never looked at the Black Legion.

He had just been reborn; his mind was not yet fully awake—but his superhuman intellect focused solely on two figures in the battlefield.

One was Zhou Yun, who had somehow formed a connection with him—the one who had killed and resurrected him.

The other was.

Guilliman, bathed in blood and corpses, stood before the linen-robed figure.

The two stood atop separate mounds of traitor corpses, gazing at each other across the void.

Calgar and the others on the battlefield were astonished to realize that the linen-robed figure was no less formidable than Roboute Guilliman.

Roboute Guilliman stared at the figure, lifted his lips slightly, and spoke his first words after resurrection.

"Who are you? How did you get here?"

(End of Chapter)