The Final Wish 45

Guilliman's fury seemed almost tangible, making the air in the hall grow scorching hot.

The representatives trembled, unable to understand why the Primarch was so enraged.

"My lord, Kalima House has served the Imperium for three thousand years. We have never betrayed the Imperium. You cannot strip us of our rights like this. Is such a cruel decision the Imperium's reward for its Loyalists?"

The Planetary Governor of Sara Planet spoke in a trembling voice.

"Loyalty?" Guilliman raised his voice and scrutinized the man before him. "Tens of billions died on this planet. Hundreds of millions rebelled and became Cultists. The fact that I have not killed you is your reward for not betraying us.

"We were appointed by your father. He granted us hereditary rights. You cannot dismiss us over something like this." Another woman stepped forward, doing her utmost to explain the legitimacy of their rule.

"Your titles were granted by the Senate of Terra. You merely speak on behalf of the Emperor. I founded the first Senate of Terra myself. I possess absolute authority to pass judgment."

(The council created by the Emperor was dissolved during the Horus Heresy. After the war ended and Guilliman arrived, he was appointed Regent and rebuilt the Council of Terra.)

"My lord, we are—"

"."

The other representatives stood up as well, their questions flying at the Primarch like snowflakes.

With their own rights under threat, they seemed to have lost some of their respect and fear for Guilliman.

Power was corrupting, Sicarius thought. It eroded respect, eroded common sense, and made people greedy and selfish.

The Primarch was saving this world, yet these people revealed their resentment simply because their own rights had been diminished.

The power over a single planet was enough to make people lose their minds.

What about the power over a sector, a star domain, or even an Imperium? How terrifying would that be?

Perhaps they would directly kill the Primarch to protect their own ruling interests.

Sicarius felt a flicker of fear at his own outrageous thought.

Perhaps one day, he would have to make a choice: the Imperium defined by Guilliman, or the Imperium defined by the Council of Terra.

Guilliman would never compromise with those conservative forces. Ever since his awakening, he had made no attempt to conceal his disappointment with the Imperium's current state.

He was desperate to change the Imperium as it was now, to pull humanity back from the abyss of ignorance and corruption.

And those who had ruled the Imperium for countless millennia would never willingly surrender the power in their hands.

For their luxurious lives and their families' interests, they would commit every terrible deed imaginable.

Under Guilliman's fury, all the representatives were driven out.

After a short while, Sicarius returned. He respectfully saluted his Primarch, requested his forgiveness, and only then spoke.

"My lord, there may be someone who meets your requirements, but he has been infected by a disease and will soon die. He cannot come to see you in person. If you are willing, could you perhaps go to the hospital?"

After pondering for a moment, Guilliman rose to his feet. "Let us go and see."

The appearance of a Primarch exhilarated the people of Sara Planet.

They came running from every direction, shouting the names of Guilliman and the Emperor beyond the steel cordon established by the Honor Guard.

Many had tears in their eyes, too overwhelmed to control themselves.

Some devout believers ran to kiss the ground the Primarch had walked upon, weeping loudly as they thanked him for saving them from their nightmare.

"They have all gone mad," Guilliman said quietly as he watched them.

"They are simply too excited, my lord," Sicarius said.

"If my father saw this, I do not know how disappointed he would be. He did not like this kind of fanatical faith. No, that is wrong. He did not like any faith at all," Guilliman said.

Sicarius said nothing. He had not lived through the era when Guilliman had been with the Emperor.

He did not know what the Emperor had truly been like.

Guilliman entered a temporary hospital, where wounded soldiers and civilians were greatly encouraged by his arrival.

"You have done excellently." Guilliman did not stint on his praise. "You defended this planet and dealt Chaos a savage blow. Without you, we would not have won so easily."

His words brought immense joy to the people in the hospital.

Every face was filled with pride. They had received the recognition of a Primarch, an honor beyond measure.

Many emotional soldiers secretly clenched their fists. They would continue serving the Imperium until their lives ended and the Imperium received its final salvation.

To better inspire the people, Guilliman even allowed a soldier with a severed leg to grasp one armored finger as a reward.

He was too large for an ordinary person to shake hands with.

Cheers shook the hospital, while the soldier granted that special privilege wept uncontrollably. At that moment, he was willing to give everything for the Primarch.

Amid the respectful and worshipful gazes of the crowd, Guilliman entered the innermost ward.

An Imperial Loyalist on the verge of death lay on the bed.

Beeping medical instruments filled the space around him.

His body was covered in pus, though he bore no wounds. It was all the result of disease.

"His name is Dzansk. He is a colonel, commander of the Third Defense Regiment, and a defender of Sara Planet. When all his superiors fled, he took it upon himself, as a colonel, to defend Sara Planet. Otherwise, Sara Planet could not have held out for so long. Unfortunately, his internal organs were corroded during the battle. There is nothing we can do."

A physician beside Guilliman introduced the patient's condition.

Guilliman opened the ward door and bent down to enter.

The ward was filled with a nauseating stench, like rotten watermelon mixed with spoiled fish.

Guilliman adjusted his breathing and did his best to acclimate to the revolting smell.

As for whether there were Pathogens in the air, he was not concerned.

Primarchs possessed the most powerful immune systems in the material universe. Ordinary Pathogens could not harm them in the slightest.

"Colonel Dzansk," Guilliman called softly, with pity for this unfortunate Imperial hero.

He had given everything for Sara Planet, yet now he could only lie here and wait for death.

How unfair Destiny was. Loyalists gave everything for the Imperium, while the vile trod upon their bones and enjoyed glory and luxurious lives.

The patient struggled with all his strength to open his eyes, then turned his head toward the Primarch by the slightest angle. A smile appeared on his pus-covered face.

"Is it you, my lord Primarch? The holy Emperor has not abandoned me. You are so merciful that you would come see a man about to die."

"No. You are a hero of the Imperium, Dzansk. This world will have statues and stories of you. Your name will be sung for all eternity," Guilliman said.

"No, I failed to fulfill my duty. I let so many people die. I should have protected them, protected this world, but I failed. If not for your arrival, everything I did would have been futile."

A trace of sobbing entered Dzansk's voice. He wept over his own inadequacy, and he wept over Guilliman's arrival. It was the Primarch who had saved Sara Planet and its innocent civilians.

"If not for you, Sara Planet would have become a plague-ridden Death Star before we arrived. You held back the enemy and created the opportunity for us to annihilate them. In the name of the Imperial Regent, I will grant you the Imperial Medal of Honor, to commemorate your contributions to the Imperium."

"Thank you, Primarch. This is my honor," Dzansk said through tears, happy to have received recognition.

"Is there anything else you wish to say?" Guilliman asked.

"Could you grant me the Emperor's Mercy? I can feel the organs inside me rotting. They are tormenting me, forcing me to submit to pain and trying to make me sell my soul."

Dzansk gazed at Guilliman's flawless face, his eyes full of pleading. Every second of living was agony.

Having been acknowledged by Guilliman, his life was complete.

It was time to leave.

He would never yield before pain and sell his soul to those twisted beings.

He would remain forever loyal to humanity, to the Imperium, and to the Emperor.

Guilliman was silent for a moment before speaking. "If this is your final wish, I can grant it."