Chapter 311: The Black Chapel That Could Kill Guilliman

"You mean you plan to bomb Macragge with a virus bomb?"

"Bombard the third most important planet of the Human Empire, the capital of Ultramar, the homeworld of the Space Wolves, the world where two Primarchs once stood—Macragge?"

Zhou Yun's expression twisted into a contorted knot.

A virus bomb—one of the Human Empire's standard weapons for enforcing Exterminatus—contains a synthetic virus called the Life-Eater, capable of spreading across an entire planet within minutes, penetrating most powered armor and augury devices, rapidly rotting any living organism into a sludge and releasing vast quantities of highly flammable hot gas.

These gases are then ignited, igniting a doomsday fire that consumes the entire planet, depleting its oxygen until only a barren, lifeless husk remains.

This weapon was used by Horus on the infamous planet Istvaan III; one dud was preserved by the Loyalist Imperial Fists Dreadnought Relan, who, ten thousand years later, used this virus bomb as a trap to banish Fulgrim back into the Warp.

A single shot could send a Daemon Primarch back into the Warp—though ambush played a role—it still demonstrated the weapon's devastating power.

Yet its reliability is inferior to cyclone torpedoes, and its cost far exceeds that of other Exterminatus weapons; thus, by the 41st millennium, it had fallen almost entirely out of use.

Only a handful of Space Marine Chapters still keep such world-ending weapons in their armories—clearly, the heretic cruiser Heretic's Woe carries one.

"Three." The three priests bowed their heads, their voices thick with penitence: "All relics from the Great Crusade era."

Zhou Yun's face went numb—no wonder your ship is called Heretic's Woe.

Even heretics who knew your ship carried three virus bombs manufactured ten thousand years ago would tremble in fear—this thing, if fired well, could wipe out several warbands at once; no Warband Champion, Chaos Lord, or Daemon Prince could stand against it—not even Abaddon would dare get close.

"How in the name of the Emperor did you even come up with this idea?"

Zhou Yun had been led by the three Black Templar priests to the command deck, his face twitching as he gripped his forehead and stared at them.

The three priests, clad in black armor, exchanged glances, hesitated long, then finally spoke:

"We saw visions—a series of symbolic visions."

"A round, fat blue cat stood in the Warp, extending its corrupted, rounded hands toward the two Primarchs."

"Warp energy flooded into the bodies of the Emperor's sons; their souls, consciousness, and essences were stained with colors not of the Emperor."

"Saint Guilliman's wings turned blue; Roboute Guilliman's order shifted; two threads descended from the round hands, manipulating them like puppets, then using them to control the Ultramarines and the Blood Angels."

"Countless Ultramarines and Blood Angels were infected by the power of the round, fat blue cat, becoming warriors under its command."

The more the priests spoke, the more terrified they became:

"It was as if it foretold the two Primarchs falling to become Daemon Princes, the two Legions turning traitor—it was simply too horrifying."

"Especially after recalling Horus's resurrection, recalling Chaos's corruption—we believed this was the Emperor's revelation to us, a sign to see that the two Primarchs had already been corrupted."

"But… aren't you afraid this is just pure hallucination?" Zhou Yun, drenched in sweat, muttered with a twitching mouth.

In a sense, they weren't entirely wrong—according to Saint Guilliman, though Guilliman himself hadn't realized it, both he and the other Primarch were nearly Zhou Yun's Daemon Princes, savoring Zhou Yun's power.

And indeed, many Ultramarines and Blood Angels had been equipped with Zhou Yun's artifacts and were under his command.

"We thought the same—that after all, they are the Primarchs, how could we harm the Emperor's own children, the brothers of Dorn?"

"But as we neared Macragge, we heard a horrifying song—so terrifying it resembled the first cry of Slaanesh as the Eldar perished."

"We saw more visions: Saint Guilliman and Guilliman fighting a newly born Greater Daemon; Guilliman drenched in blood, yet ultimately falling before the Daemon. We believed this foretold a new Daemon born upon Macragge—one that had utterly crushed Saint Guilliman and Lord Guilliman, just as the Slaaneshi Daemon embedded in the blade once overcame Fulgrim."

Zhou Yun couldn't help but reach up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Though their conclusion was flawed, the process… seemed, perhaps, to have actually unfolded this way.

"But we still felt uneasy—what if this is some Chaos plot?"

"So we infiltrated the celebration in Magna Macragge. Everything seemed normal—until the corrupted governor appeared and collapsed beneath the burning, flaming blade of the 'Guilliman'."

"We sensed a powerful psychic surge—the 'Guilliman''s body erupted with immense Warp energy; faintly, we glimpsed a Daemon lurking beneath his skin."

The priests' voices filled with apology and deep shame as they continued to Zhou Yun:

"Thus we concluded the Primarchs had almost certainly been corrupted. For humanity and the Empire, we had no choice but to act."

"But… what if what you saw was merely disloyal, yet they are still truly loyal children of the Empire?"

Zhou Yun asked, his gaze shifting uneasily.

From the Black Templars' perspective, Zhou Yun, Saint Guilliman, and Guilliman indeed appeared corrupted.

Leaving aside the visions they had seen, merely the fact that a new Daemon had been born on Macragge, wearing Guilliman's skin, was enough to make most people cry out blasphemy.

"Then it must be left to the Emperor."

The priest bowed his head, deeply ashamed.

"If they remain loyal children of the God-Emperor, His power will surely protect them—and punish us, the foolish fools who erred."

Zhou Yun's face twitched uncontrollably.

The Black Templars were truly the Black Templars—religious fanatics excelled at self-reinforcing logic loops.

If I succeed, it proves the Emperor approved—you are clearly a traitor.

If you are not a traitor, then I cannot succeed, for the Emperor protects His loyal children.

Yet their plan was unlikely to succeed—at least, unlikely to harm Guilliman or Saint Guilliman, both of whom carried teleporters and could flee at any moment.

Additionally, Zhou Yun still had a leftover rebound cloak from his last exchange—enough to deflect the plague bomb into deep space.

"As expected!" The priest's voice suddenly rose, overflowing with piety and fanaticism: "As we prepared to deploy the plague bomb, enlightenment descended."

"We saw the Emperor's holy form—He showed us countless visions: long before the 39th millennium, before He revealed Himself, He had watched your deeds from His retreat, through a screen."

"You are hope. You are dream. You are the friend of the Emperor and all humanity—the holy Doraemon! The great Doraemon, God of Ten Thousand Machines!"

Zhou Yun rubbed his temples: "You called me here just to confess?"

That made sense—during the Slaanesh avatar incident, the Emperor had manifested once before; clearly, He was observing Macragge in some way.

Though the Black Templars' visions contained much pure hysteria, they occasionally received true imperial revelations.

The Emperor would never permit the Black Templars to actually drop three plague bombs on Macragge.

"No, my lord—we have two other small goals."

The priest bowed his head, utterly devout.

"We wish to send an expeditionary force to accompany you, protect your safety, proclaim your divinity, and undertake a penitential crusade—ending only when the last man dies."

Zhou Yun's eyes lit up instantly.

The Black Templars were indeed mad and fanatical, but their strength and faith were unquestionable—and Zhou Yun desperately needed people to help him control the Saint Doraemon Cult; the Black Templars were perfect.

Moreover, their style carried the aura of medieval knights—a perfect opportunity to satisfy Zhou Yun's collecting obsession.

"How many can you send?" Zhou Yun asked cautiously.

The Black Templars were a Chapter that outwardly followed the Codex Astartes but internally vastly exceeded it.

Zhou Yun estimated they could send at least two to three hundred.

"What about five hundred? The same number you took from the Blood Angels and Ultramarines."

Zhou Yun's eyes widened slightly.

Five hundred? Half a Chapter?

The Ultramarines and Blood Angels had drawn that many only by pooling multiple sub-chapters.

You're offering five hundred from a single Chapter.

"Exactly how much have you exceeded the Codex?" Zhou Yun couldn't help asking.

The three priests' gazes shifted uneasily, as if hesitating.

". It's not five figures, is it?" Zhou Yun asked hesitantly.

The Black Templars maintained numerous expeditionary forces across the galaxy, each largely independent and rarely converging; thus, no one could accurately count their total strength or verify how far they exceeded the Codex.

If the Black Templars had truly gone mad enough to field multiple expeditionary forces, each equal in size to a standard Chapter…

"Probably… not," the priest replied hesitantly.

Zhou Yun was stunned.

You might really have ten thousand? That scale—those who know understand the Black Templars are a sub-chapter of the Imperial Fists; those who don't think the Imperial Fists are the Black Templars' sub-chapter.

Sensing Zhou Yun's scrutiny, the priest quickly spoke: "After the Great Rift opened, our expeditionary forces were severed—we cannot now determine the Black Templars' current strength—but approximately?"

"I proposed five hundred because that is the total number of our expeditionary forces we can currently contact."

Zhou Yun's expression remained odd—six to seven thousand. That number would have made Guilliman, fresh from writing the Codex, choke to death.

"And your other goal?" Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow.

"This concerns the duty of Heretic's Woe. Across the galaxy, countless Black Templar expeditionary forces may birth Imperial Crowns—we, Heretic's Woe, are tasked with transporting the Black Sword and determining whether a warrior is truly an Imperial Crown."

"We came to meet you to confirm the status of the Black Sword in your possession—and to formally bestow it upon you for use—"

"So you mean…" Zhou Yun's eyes flashed bright: "You have another Black Sword on this ship, don't you?"

(End of Chapter)