Submission

"Do you know what you're saying, foolish mortal?" Cherubael looked at the Primarch before him and refused without hesitation. "You are the son of the Anathema, but you have no right to command me. You are merely the leader of mortals, while I am a noble Daemon Prince."

"I shall show you mercy and allow you to make a bargain with me. So long as you can prepare sufficient sacrifices, I can tell you some things."

"Do not mistake me for those foolish sorcerers who trade vast offerings for scraps of trivial knowledge, then remain grateful to you. The only offering I can give you is the chance to stay alive, Cherubael." Guilliman looked at the Daemonhost before him as boundless power surged through the Primarch's body.

As news of his awakening spread, every citizen who learned of it cheered his name, anticipating the salvation he would bring.

Those beliefs granted him boundless power.

Human will was enough to alter the Warp. That was beyond doubt.

Otherwise, the gods would not have chosen those Chaos Cultists to help them interfere with the material universe.

The Aeldari had once made calculations: if humanity went extinct, Chaos would soon vanish from the Milky Way as well.

One could imagine humanity's status within the Warp realm of the Milky Way.

And now, Guilliman had gathered the power of humanity's faith.

"Your arrogance surpasses even your father's, son of the Anathema. You cannot harm me. I am a Daemon Prince, an immortal being. Everything in this world will decay with the passage of time, but Daemons will not. I am eternal."

Cherubael's arrogant voice rang out.

"I can foresee all things. That is my race's gift. Do you wish to know the Destiny of your future, son of the Anathema? Do you want everything you desire? Make a bargain with me. I shall fulfill all your demands, provided you can pay a sufficient price."

Eisenhorn stood to one side, silently watching it all.

He did not know whether this was right or wrong.

Guilliman was attempting to walk a dark path. He did not know whether this great Primarch had been corrupted by Chaos during his long slumber.

He hoped his choice was the right one.

Otherwise, a corrupted Primarch would be the final straw that crushed the Imperium.

Eisenhorn kept a spell ready at all times. Should Cherubael lose control, he would suppress him once more.

"You will pay for your stubbornness, Daemon." Guilliman smiled. "You know, I have a traitorous brother. He is known as Night Haunter. His legion is infamous for its cruelty. He liked to seek out the weak points in people's fears, then magnify them, and magnify them again, until his enemies broke completely. I used to dislike his methods greatly, but now I have changed my mind somewhat."

"When people face an enemy they utterly loathe, any means of vengeance is permissible. I have been recalling my brother's methods, considering whether his tortures can be applied to you. During this time, I have been wondering what Daemons fear. Until the last battle, I understood. Daemons fear eternal oblivion. You fear having your essence completely erased, because then you would be unable to return to life in the Warp."

"You will get no information from me, son of the Anathema. I have never feared threats. You possess my true name, yet you still cannot make me submit. You do not have the ability to do what you claim. At most, you can only banish me back to the Warp or imprison me." Cherubael shrieked.

Guilliman placed his hand on the hilt of the Emperor's Sword. "I truly cannot annihilate you, but someone can."

The Dominion Power made Guilliman stronger.

He had also become more adept at wielding the power of the Emperor's Sword.

At Guilliman's will, golden radiance ignited across the mighty, powerful body of the Primarch.

It made him shine ever more brilliantly, as though he were shrouded in golden light.

The Emperor's Power also surged, crossing the stars to descend upon this gloomy dungeon.

Cherubael twisted uneasily, fear appearing on his distorted face.

The Emperor was the bane of countless Daemons in the Warp. He would end everything.

Not even the lords of Chaos could destroy the Emperor. They could only find a way to imprison him upon the Golden Throne.

Under the combined empowerment of Guilliman's strength and the Emperor's Power, the dungeon became holier than ever before.

The Emperor's shrine also shone, causing the Exorcist Priest and the Epiphany Bearer to recite the Emperor's prayers and hymns with even greater fervor.

The other Daemonhosts and forbidden objects in the dungeon all trembled.

The howling fell silent, and the strange whispers vanished.

Even the constantly struggling Daemonhosts became unprecedentedly quiet.

Eisenhorn sensed a vast, mighty will descending.

He knew the Primarch was wielding his father's power in an attempt to pressure the Daemon Prince.

"Submit to me, or I shall utterly shatter your essence and cast you into eternal oblivion." Guilliman's voice was not loud, but it was filled with authority.

"You dare—" Cherubael struggled with all his might, resisting that will, but before he could finish, an Iron Fists blow smashed into him.

The air tore apart, and the thick chains snapped taut under the immense impact.

The Daemonhost housing Cherubael was punched into the wall with a heavy crash.

Guilliman drew the Emperor's Sword. Golden flames rose along the blade as its tip pointed at Cherubael. "You may refuse once more, and I shall return you to nothingness, Daemon. There are other Daemons here. One of them will be willing to serve me."

"I have already foreseen your pitiful Destiny, Son of the Anathema. You will surely fall into corruption just as we have." Cherubael looked at the sword tip and did not dare continue testing the Primarch's patience.

"You are very confident in your power of foresight?" Guilliman mocked.

"You are nothing but a pack of lowly apes. You will never comprehend the subtlety and perfection of Destiny's threads, while I have long foreseen everything," Cherubael said.

"Then let us do this. Guess which part of you I will strike first in a moment?"

"This is a clumsy game. You never intended to let me win."

"I merely wish to know how perfect your perfect foresight truly is. Can you imagine what happens next?" Guilliman casually sliced off the Daemonhost's ear.

Golden flames scorched the Daemon's essence, making Cherubael let out a miserable scream.

"It seems that so long as the essence is harmed, Daemons can feel pain too."

Guilliman cut off the Daemonhost's other ear. This time, he moved slowly. Golden flames spread, but they did not consume the Daemonhost's body. They only seared the wound.

Cherubael's screams became even shriller.

Guilliman was very patient, carving away the Daemonhost's body piece by piece.

The body's original soul had long since perished. Only the Daemon Prince's will remained within it.

The Daemon Prince alone suffered.

"You win, son of the Anathema. What do you wish to know?"

Cherubael ultimately chose submission.

Daemons were difficult to harm with weapons of reality. The destruction of their flesh could not injure their essence.

But the golden sword in Guilliman's hand could.

The sword contained the Anathema's power.

Every cut Guilliman made inflicted damage upon Cherubael's Daemonic essence.

And the pain was incomparable.

Even if Cherubael escaped back to the Warp in the future, the wounds left by this sword would never heal. Every moment, they would bring Cherubael burning agony.

"I want news of my traitorous brothers, and what they are doing now." Guilliman sheathed the Emperor's Sword and asked.

"I do not move about in the Warp. I have been imprisoned in the material universe for centuries," Cherubael said.

"Then what Daemons would know? And how should I summon them?" Guilliman looked at Cherubael.

"You want one Daemon to betray another Daemon?"