Chapter 811

Indeed.

Guilliman gave a bitter smile after he left—yes, this might have been hard to believe, but Roboute Guilliman truly did not want anyone else interfering with his work.

Handling state affairs was complicated and time-consuming, and it was always thankless, leaving him no leisure to do his own things. But this was what he had been created for.

He had been created to handle multiple tasks at once, a natural-born politician and leader of officials. If he did not shoulder this responsibility, who could?

Not even Sanguinius could. The Archangel's mind was too delicate, too complex. He could not harden his heart enough to make the decisions that had to be made. If he were allowed to sit in this chair, Guilliman was quite certain Sanguinius would announce on his very first day in office that many worlds would be exempted from taxes for ten years, simply to let their civilians live a little better.

But that was unrealistic.

Guilliman wanted to do the same, but he could not—he was not allowed to.

Without the support of taxes, the Empire could not function.

With a sigh, Guilliman had meant to continue working and force himself to focus entirely on his work. But he suddenly remembered a sentence.

"Did you ask them?"

That was his father's voice.

It was as if he had returned to Terra. Back then, the defense had just ended, and the Emperor had been sitting behind him, patiently teaching him about problems Guilliman had never considered before.

"You should ask them, Roboute. You cannot decide everyone's path for them without permission. Everyone performing their own duties is indeed good. But everyone has thoughts of their own."

Was that so?

Guilliman lowered his head thoughtfully. Perhaps that was indeed the case. He should ask Sanguinius what he