Who said Nimrod was ambitious?

Nimrod stared at Guilliman. "You won't crown yourself, yet you demand I become the Emperor."

"You are beloved by the public, and many secretly believed you were the only suitable candidate before the Emperor appointed you as the Warmaster."

Guilliman maintained his bowed invitation.

"The Paternova of Navigator, Marshal Barton Drake of the Solar Auxilia— "

Nimrod glanced at the chair draped with the Palatine flag. "I refuse."

That position was indeed very tempting to him, but it was an unattainable dream.

If the Emperor is truly dead, and Robert Guilliman and Sanguinius are truly loyal to themselves, he will accept it.

But he knew that even if Konrad Curze had become his incarnation, the news that the Old Man in Yellow was not dead and Terra still existed would eventually reach the eastern part of the Galaxy.

Once the two loyal Primarch before them learn that Terra still exists, they will disband the Unremembered Empire.

A short-lived emperor who reigns for only five years will become Stain on his ambition; let whoever wants to be one be one.

If I were to be anything, I would be a "Black Emperor," the true emperor who controls his own Imperium.

Nimrod's ambition burned fiercely.

Guilliman's hand froze; he had never imagined that Nimrod would refuse.

The number of "Shadow of Order" is only less than that of his "Ultramarines", and Nimrod possesses the largest territory among the Primarch.

His military achievements during the "Great Crusade" were second only to those of Horus Lupercal, and he also brought many wealthy worlds, spanning multiple star sectors and even star regions, into his kingdom.

Within the Ultramar Sector lie numerous magnificent worlds such as Calth and Thalassa, which Terra nobles regard as the best evidence of the Blood King's ambitions.

Now Nimrod has actually refused the Second Imperium's crown that he offered. [Who says Nimrod is ambitious?]

"I know what you're worried about." Sanguinius stared into Obsidian eyes.

"Once it's confirmed that Terra still exists, Guilliman and I will make sure that nobody knows—"

Terra remains, the Emperor lives on.

"What?" Sanguinius's hand trembled.

"Are you sure?"

He fully embraced his innate talent and worked diligently in the Warp to search for information about Terra and the Emperor.

But he saw nothing; the only thing he could glimpse was that he died at the hands of Horus.

Nimrod looked at Guilliman, who had withdrawn his hand and straightened up, and continued speaking.

"Certainly."

The Poison Vine Warband of the Word Bearers invaded Caval Salta, opening a sealed Sealed Vault in the Forge World and creating a Warp Communication Device.

"I have recaptured Cavol Salta, intercepted messages from Terra and the rebels, and cross-verified the current situation."

"How is the situation?" Guilliman's eyes lit up. Once he confirmed the movements of both sides, he could formulate a completely new plan.

Overall, Horus's Rebels are advancing towards Terra.

Guilliman quickly processed Nimrod's information, declaring, "We should coordinate our efforts and march together on Terra."

With the help of his two Dreadnoughts brothers, he will surely be able to quell the rebellion.

Nimrod shook his head. "It's not that easy."

"The Ruinstorm was unleashed by Warp Chaos God, and we are isolated from it."

He looked at Sanguinius, "Breaking through the blockade will be no easy task."

I can only lead a few people through the storm.

"I have one person with me right now, and he will be the key to our victory."

Sanguinius stood up. "I will set off immediately as well."

"I have realized that my destiny lies in Terra."

"I will assemble the legions and head to Terra."

"No, Guilliman, Nimrod is right. The Ruinstorm is difficult to break through. I need your help—"

Nimrod's projection slowly rose; he had already sensed someone approaching the Astropathic Message Relay Tower.

"I must set off again."

"Nimrod, goodbye Terra," said Sanguinius.

Guilliman looked around. "We'll discuss post-war reconstruction in Terra."

Nimrod's consciousness traversed the void and fell back into his physical body.

He gazed at the three Astropath whose empty eyes were slowly losing their light.

Thank you for your assistance.

"It is our honor to serve you." The Chief Astropath of the Relay Station leaned on his scepter and slowly rose to his feet.

"Your powerful spirit and exquisite skills are truly admirable."

A piercing alarm sounded inside the relay tower.

"Intrusion Alert----"

"I will never mistreat those who serve me."

"The Fallen Count" Nimrod took a step forward and went straight to the outside of the relay tower.

With a wave of his hand, a group of Word Bearers clad in Scarlet Armor instantly broke free from the gravitational pull of Protoss, leaping up like rockets and quickly surpassing the tower's spire.

The Fallen Count flipped his palm down again, applying a hundred times the force of gravity to the Scarlet Armor, Word Bearers to fall faster.

Bang----

The armor shattered, Word Bearers was smashed into a pile of mud.

Just as Nimrod was about to Teleport away, he suddenly had a strange, inexplicable premonition.

It seems there are some important things or people nearby.

[The Tzeentch power of fate he retained within the fragment of Be'lakor when he was promoted to "Fallen Count"?]

He flapped his wings thoughtfully, following the guidance of fate, and flew in that direction.

The Astropath's Mind's Eye "gazes" at the golden streak of light that vanishes from sight, and the corpse on the ground.

Lord Nimrod raised his hand, and his Psionic Energy obliterated ten Word Bearers.

Nimrod swiftly flew past the towering Spire, his Obsidian eyes taking in the battle on the ground.

Despite being outnumbered, the Ultramarines held their ground at every well-constructed firing point, using fortifications to withstand attacks from enemies many times their size.

The Word Bearers, calling upon the names of the Gods, launched a frenzied offensive.

Whoosh whoosh----

The sound of intense cutting caught Nimrod's attention, and he looked in the direction of the sound.

A disheveled man, draped in a fur coat, held an Aeldari Shuriken pistol in each hand and fired at a Word Bearers Warrior.

A carpet of monomolecular flakes swept through, and a razor-sharp rain of bullets pierced through his armor, exploding into specks of blood mist that splattered all over the wall behind him.

"Little John!"

Have you found him?

John lifted his Eyepiece and got up from the ground.

"I can't find him. Maybe he hasn't arrived yet, or maybe he's already passed through here."

Nimrod stared at Spear in his hand, which was much larger than himself, and instinctively sensed danger.

That was a weapon that could cause him devastating damage.

"Damn it, we have to leave immediately."

John glanced at the Word Bearers lying in a pool of blood.

"We?"

"Damon, I don't remember being with you."

"Gehert sent me to make sure you act according to plan."

John raised an eyebrow. "Are you my insurance policy?"

"That's right."

"What if I look like I'm not doing my job properly?"

Damon shrugged. "Then I'll have to beat you up to teach you a lesson."

John shook his head. "The Cabal shouldn't have sent reinforcements; it will only make things worse."

"I'm reinforcements." Damon chuckled.

"I actually served Reserve Cavalry once."

"Let me think— the Seventh Cavalry Regiment."

"I'm telling you, those Lakota— "

Bang!

With a deafening roar, a bomb was fired at John.

Damn it!

"Little John, I told you you needed me."

Damon turned sharply, facing the newly appeared Word Bearers.

His armor was painted in the original grey from the "Great Crusade" era, rather than the new scarlet red of the other Word Bearers around him.

He pulled the trigger, and Guheru and Memmenite fired wildly, unleashing a barrage of Monofilament Dart towards the Word Bearers.