Chapter 605: Think Quickly—What Would the Regent Lord Do!

At the same time, the forces led by General Zanderek, a subordinate of the Silent King, were launching an assault on the Satyr System.

Magos and the Satyr System are close; once both star systems are captured, the Storm King can pass through the Aether Storms and enter the Soul-Draining Dead Zone.

As he spoke, Guilliman raised his hand and swept it through the air.

The ceiling abruptly opened, revealing a Seraphim?

A mechanical device, roughly the same size as a Seraphim and bearing wings, yet resembling a miniature version of Doraemon, slowly floated down from the ceiling.

It was the Mini-Doraemon, designed by Belisarius Doraemon Kaul to replace the Seraphim.

Functionally similar to the Seraphim, it required no wetware, for its machine-soul was inherently immensely powerful—even more intelligent than Seraphim equipped with wetware—merely shaped in this form.

It could also slightly enhance the operational efficiency of nearby machinery and increase the probability of enemy weapons malfunctioning, while being far cheaper; thus, it rapidly replaced the original Seraphim across numerous locations.

Yet its aesthetic seemed oddly out of place in this galaxy—at least to Guilliman's eyes, it was too cute, not serious enough, not solemn enough.

But… at least now he didn't have to look at those damned flying infant corpses; Saint Doraemon's taste was far superior to the Emperor's.

The Mini-Doraemon's eyes suddenly glowed, projecting a star map showing the positions of all stars within the Nephilim Sector.

Magos and the Satyr System lay on the edge of the Nephilim Sector; the two systems were close, and their Black Stones still exerted some effect, weakening the nearby Aether Storms.

The Silent King and the Storm King had reached an alliance: the Storm King would attack the Magos System, while General Zanderek, under the Silent King's command, advanced toward Satyr.

Their intent was clear: they sought to tear open a breach, allowing the Storm King Imotekh's forces to enter the Soul-Draining Dead Zone.

"What is the objective of this operation?" Fulgrim asked, lifting his head slightly to study the star map.

Guilliman extended his hand; a horizontal line stretched from the Magos System, cutting across the entire Soul-Draining Dead Zone, ending at the Vorlan Vash System.

"The Silent King must have reached some arrangement with the Storm King, intending to use the Storm King's forces to assault the Necron Traveler Anar'kell, who is stationed in the Vorlan Vash System."

"The Storm King clearly does not wish to detour the entire sector to reach Vorlan Vash, for that would force him to confront violent Aether Storms and our full military strength."

"His plan is clearly to use the Silent King's controlled territories to cross the Nephilim Sector directly to Vorlan Vash."

"A reasonable plan," Fulgrim nodded in agreement. "If so, then Magos and Satyr are crucial, aren't they?"

"If they break through these two systems, the Storm King's path to Vorlan Vash will be nearly unobstructed."

"Precisely," Guilliman nodded in agreement.

A flicker of light passed through the Clone Primarch's violet eyes: "Then why haven't you acted yet? We must move immediately!"

"The Necron forces move with extreme speed; their inertialess engines allow them to enter faster-than-light travel in the material universe, appearing and vanishing almost instantaneously from our perspective."

Guilliman's expression remained unchanged as he calmly regarded Fulgrim.

"Even our Aether engines struggle to match their speed. Merely through mobility, they hold the initiative. Normally, even if we reacted now, it would already be too late."

"You said 'normally'!" Fulgrim's thin lips curled slightly. "Give me a fleet equipped with any Star Gates, and I will rush to these two systems. The Storm King's forces will not cross the Wall of the Sons of the Emperor."

"Whether you head to Magos or Satyr, you will face a two-pronged assault from Zanderek and Imotekh's forces—it will be a brutal meat grinder. You are not Rogal Dorn; that battlefield was never meant for you."

"I have a son who always claims to be Rogal Dorn's heir. Perfect—he can prove himself now," Fulgrim said, smiling at Sol.

Sol's expression turned serious.

"Zanderek is a formidable opponent—powerful, cautious, and elusive. I once fell to him. But if given this chance, I will wash away my shame."

"You will have that chance, son," Fulgrim's lips curled into a slightly radiant smile. "As you see, Guilliman, the Sons of the Emperor do not retreat. Perfection requires no cowardice."

"Yet the forces I sent to those two systems? They are cowards," Guilliman said, fixing Fulgrim with a steady gaze.

Fulgrim frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Guilliman ignored Fulgrim's question. He merely lifted his head and stared at the star map suspended in midair.