Chapter 683: Guilliman: I

On the outer frontier of Ultramar, the Glory Queen-class battleship Maccragge’s Glory,

Roboute Guilliman exhaled deeply and set down the papers in his hands,

Within the Empire, internal affairs had grown calm, military matters had diminished, and the productivity of many worlds had been liberated once more, leading to a surge in administrative and economic affairs,

The Empire’s productivity had never been low—in fact, among all races in the galaxy, human productivity was decisively the number one leader, and if only one-tenth of its output were directed against the Tau Empire, it could drown them in an endless tide of warships,

But the Empire’s true problem lay in its grossly inefficient distribution and the increasingly monotonous industrial specialization of its worlds,

This was an inevitable outcome: the galaxy was vast, warp travel was sluggish, astropathic communication was slow, and the efficiency of Wuzi transport was abysmal, forcing operations to run on rigid, fixed patterns where even minor disruptions could cripple the whole system,

In interstellar trade, a common situation arose where hive worlds found it cheaper to grow their own crops than to import them from agricultural worlds, while agricultural worlds found it far more expensive to build factories and produce farm tools than to import them from nearby hive worlds,

Thus, hive worlds increasingly abandoned agriculture, specializing exclusively in each category of industrial goods, while agricultural worlds abandoned industry, focusing solely on producing a few specific crops,

Gradually, each world poured all its strength into producing just one or a few industrial or agricultural goods, relying on imports from neighboring star systems for everything else; over time, the vast majority of the Empire’s worlds had become locked into a state of hyper-efficient single-product production with extreme industrial monoculture,

Yet this model’s advantage was its immense overall output,

Its flaw was that the Empire’s transport capacity could not sustain such output—without transport, there was no consumption, and the result was often massive stockpiles of single products on certain worlds, sometimes even requiring destruction, leading to the paradox of affluent famine,

Guilliman recently investigated an agricultural world that had suffered a famine, where agricultural output had shown no signs of failure, yet famine had still broken out,

Guilliman questioned the local farmers and received this answer:

“Why can’t we afford food? Because we have no money.”

“Why do we have no money? Because the farms won’t pay wages.”

“Why won’t the farms pay wages? Because the farms have shut down.”

“Why have the farms shut down? Because there’s too much food and no one will buy it.”

This was a microcosm, revealing the Empire’s true problem: too much production, too little consumption.

But these issues were now being resolved,

First, through Kael, whose improved Warp Gates were being rolled out across the stars,

Second, through Zhou Yun—not because he introduced any new device, but simply because of his Fourth-Dimensional Pocket,

The moment Guilliman learned the pocket could sell any item whatsoever, he recognized its extraordinary value,

No matter how much cargo, no matter what type, it could simply be thrown in and sold,

This. This was like an infinite-money consumer, the Messiah of every market’s dream—no matter how much the Empire produced, this pocket could consume it all. The consumption power of the twenty-second century was too great!!!

After Zhou Yun’s Ascension, it became even simpler: now, all that was needed was for the Church of Holy Doraemon to chant holy hymns and perform shamanic dances over a pile of goods, sacrificing them to Holy Doraemon,

Then, Holy Doraemon would drop down the needed items—on average, one to two years’ worth of surplus production from each hive world could be exchanged for a single Warp Gate; after modification by the Adeptus Mechanicus, the planet would gain a merchant fleet equipped with Warp Gates,

Thus, the Empire’s economic cycle began to run.

But the Empire had too many worlds, and integrating them all into the new economic cycle would take time,

Which was why Guilliman deliberately maintained the war’s intensity between the Tau Empire and Ultramar,

Leman Russ had once proposed leading a strike force to decapitate the entire Tau leadership,

But Guilliman refused,

First, the war with the Tau Empire consumed the Empire’s surplus production,

Second, Chaos and traitors now only caused minor disturbances within the Empire; the primary enemies had become Orks and Tyranids, with Orks mostly launching small-scale raids and Tyranids recently inactive, leaving the Empire’s military forces largely idle,

But prolonged absence from war led to declining combat readiness, so Guilliman ordered each Space Marine Chapter and Imperial Guard regiment to rotate through the Ultramar-Tau front, requisitioning supplies en route to achieve both training and surplus consumption.

But the situation had changed beyond expectation,

Sanguinius and Leman Russ had departed Ultramar,

Guilliman didn’t think much of it—the problem didn’t seem too serious,

But Zhou Yun declared that the Nine Legions of the Two- and Five-Star Sectors all rested on Guilliman’s shoulders alone, and he could not bear any more burden—he would provide Guilliman with support,

Then,

Guilliman lifted his head slightly, a bitter expression on his face,

His gaze first swept past his side—his son Sicarius gripped his sword tightly, his face twisted in unnatural tension,

Not long ago, Sicarius’s ship had been accidentally drawn into the Warp, yet he had fought his way out alone, sword in hand,

But now, his expression revealed he was questioning whether he had truly escaped the Warp at all,

His Chapter Master, Karan, stared blankly at his own fists, as if he had lost all purpose in life,

Chief Librarian Diggory smiled serenely, as if convinced he had finally been driven mad by the Warp,

Beside them sat a group of blue Chaos Daemons of Tzeentch, processing documents,

These Tzeentch Daemons had vacant stares; behind them stood several signs: “Apply Warp-Like Aggression to Work,” “I Love Work, Work Loves Me,” “Work Hard, Realize the Meaning of Daemonhood,”

Leading them were the famed Tzeentch Daemons Blue Scribe Puthrich and Shiliput, the two demons once responsible for recording all spells, now tasked with documenting the productivity levels of the Empire’s various worlds,

On the other side of the Tzeentch Daemons stood the newly returned Slaanesh Daemons,

Chief Slaanesh Daemon Lord Shalash Mocai wiped his silver shield; the Masked Dancer glided in light steps, weaving a new dance; the Tormentor Zalakanel toyed with a female Tau, reduced to nothing but a torso and head,

Noticing Guilliman’s gaze, Shalash Mocai lifted her head and offered a seductive smile,

“My Lord, Sovereign, the Tau aren’t juicy enough—could we go kill some Dwarfs instead?”

Being called “Sovereign” by Slaanesh Daemons sent a shiver of revulsion down Guilliman’s spine,

But soon, Guilliman began to find the title “Sovereign” somewhat acceptable,

“Warlord!” roared the Khorne Prince of Destruction, spewing sulfurous smoke from his mouth—he addressed Guilliman as “Warlord.”

“These Slaanesh sluts are only fit to slaughter those squeamish Tau!”

“Slaanesh creatures only shoot back and forth, too cowardly for real blades! The Tau only shoot back and forth, too cowardly for real blades!”

“They’re perfect for each other! Let them fight the Tau!”

Behind Destruction Seed, the Bloodthirsters sharpening their weapons nodded vigorously in agreement,

The Slaanesh Daemons quickly retorted, and soon a brawl erupted between them and the Khorne Daemons,

Guilliman took a deep breath and turned toward the newly arrived Nurgle faction,

The Nurgle faction arrived last—not only did their Daemons come, but the former XIV Legion of the Death Guard arrived as well,

Guilliman stared at the Nurgle Daemons crammed into the Maccragge Hall, reeking of decay,

Many powerful and extraordinary Nurgle Daemons had come,

Bloodrot, Rainfather, Dysentery, Leprosy, Smallpox, Black Death, Borarex, AIDS, Mortarion, Impotence, Syphilis… Huh?

Guilliman’s gaze shifted slightly toward the hooded, pale, gaunt, and deeply wrinkled face beneath,

Those clouded eyes fixed upon Guilliman,

“.” Guilliman set down his pen and paper and rose abruptly.

“If you don’t stand to greet me, I thought I’d come to the wrong place.”

Mortarion replied with a cold smile:

“I nearly thought this was the Soul of Vengeance—only after closer inspection did I realize this was our Warlord’s Maccragge’s Glory!”

“Why are you here?” Guilliman blurted out.

“Why am I here?” Mortarion’s eye twitched slightly: “I’ll tell you why I’m here!”

“Decades ago, that one” Mortarion extended his hand, forming a fist to indicate whom he meant: “that one used your face, sending me messages through several Nurgle Spirits.”

“He wore your face and said: ‘Old Fourteenth! Don’t think you’re the toughest among all your brothers!’”