Burning of Five Hundred Worlds (VI)

"I understand. 🍫🍫 🐍🎉" Roboute Guilliman said.

He shut his mouth after saying that, his lips pressed tightly together. The Victrix Guard closed the door outside the study, and Sevatar, still covered in the smell of blood, stood in front of him, sniffing.

He had stopped the bleeding, and the wound was now tingling and slightly painful, giving him a strong urge to punch his face to relieve the itch. However, considering the situation, he refrained from doing so.

Moreover, Van Cleef was standing right beside him, his expression calm, but his eyes kept glancing in his direction out of the corner of his eye. Sevatar knew that this was already a warning.

His company commander was usually unassuming, even his warnings were usually delivered with a stare or a few simple interjections. This scrutiny...

Is it necessary? Sevatar thought, I'm not an idiot, I would never act so casually in front of Roboute Guilliman.

His divergent thoughts continued for a while, while the Lord of Macragge remained silent for several minutes before finally ending.

"Pass on my order—" He glanced down and pressed a button on his desk. "—Have all Librarian assemble in the second tactical room on the main bridge. I need them to build a data-driven theoretical model. Details will follow when I arrive."

He removed his finger, and the silver button sprang back into place with a slightly muffled sound.

Sevatar silently shifted his gaze from the desk to the Primarch's face, and coincidentally, the Primarch was looking at him as well.

That look didn't seem like that of a Primarch or a general; rather, it was like that of a wounded beast, weary and extremely dangerous. Even knowing that the danger wasn't directed at him, Sevatar couldn't help but bare his teeth inside his helmet.

At that moment, he was quite glad that he was still wearing a helmet.

"Sergeant Jago Sevatarion," Roboute Guilliman said in a low, as gentle voice as possible. "Thank you for bringing me this news."

"It's just my duty, sir," Sevatar replied calmly, but his true nature was revealed the next second, causing Van Cleef to narrow his eyes.

"So, may we leave now?"

"Please wait a moment, Sergeant. I need Night Lords's help, and it's far from over, so I hope you can stay for a while."

Sevatar glanced at him, then turned to look at his company commander. The latter's expressionless face made it impossible for him to discern Van Cleef's thoughts. He hesitated for a moment, but before he could speak, Van Cleef preemptively took care of the matter for him.

To be honest, he practically beat Sevatar to it.

"Sevatarion Leon probably doesn't have much talent for data analysis, sir," Van Cleef said. "If you really need a Night Lords skilled in data analysis—"

"I know, I'm looking for Sergeant Shen from the Fourth Company," Roboute Guilliman sighed, then smiled. "But I've assigned him another task."

As he was speaking, the silver button began to buzz. Roboute Guilliman had no choice but to make an apologetic gesture and press it again.

After a few hoarse hissing sounds, the voice of First Chapter Master Marius Gage rang out.

Primarch, what do you want to do?

I need to hold a meeting.

"No, I mean, why bring in Librarian?" Gage asked, puzzled, on the other end of the communicator. "And the fact that you didn't say why makes me even more confused."

"It's just speculation," Roboute Guilliman said seriously. "Sergeant Jago Sevatarion of the Night Lords First Company passed on some very tactically valuable intelligence to me. He discovered after the war that the Word Bearers' corruption is deepening."

He paused for a moment and then summarized.

"I believe this incident reveals to some extent to which area of Ultramar the main force of the Word Bearers is currently operating."

Gage remained silent for a while, his silence was strange, and Roboute Guilliman thought he wasn't thinking about it.

The reason was simply that Gage made a slight sound on the other end of the communication, a detail so minute it was almost imperceptible, just one of hundreds of details he had caught in the past few minutes.

To the average person, it's too insignificant to be called a detail. To a tactician, it's irrelevant and should be overlooked. But Roboute Guilliman wouldn't let any detail slip by, especially after the Battle of Calth.

So, with genuine apology, he smiled at Van Cleef and Sevatar.

"Company Commander Van Cleef, Sevatarion Leon, may I ask you to wait for me outside for a moment?"

"You flatter me, sir," Van Cleef said. "We'll be waiting outside."

After a brief bow, the two Night Lords left his office.

Roboute Guilliman finally had the leisure to change his expression. He squinted, regaining his composure, but he didn't allow his facial muscles to make any other movements. Only pure rationality remained on his face. How terrifying it was to be detached from worldly affairs.

"Speak your mind, Gage," Roboute Guilliman said. "I know you have something to say."

"We should go to Macragge first, sir," Marius Gage said, pausing for half a second and taking a noticeable deep breath. "Macragge is the center of Ultramar, its heart and capital. We should change course and head there first."

"I remember we've already discussed this, Gage. I've already told you my decision: Ultramar has five hundred worlds, and every inhabitant is Ultramar person, and they are suffering."

"But, the Primarch..."

Roboute Guilliman interrupted him sternly and firmly.

"No buts. Would the Word Bearers show leniency or treat them differently just because they are or are not Macragge? Let's not talk about such things anymore. We will save every one of the Five Hundred Worlds."

"Did you hear that, Gage? Every single one. I won't abandon any world, especially when they're in our path. I have the ability to save them; I can't stand idly by—that would be tantamount to betrayal. Now, let's talk about why you brought this up again."

"Because I realized you might have to postpone our trip to Macragge again," Gage said, sounding somewhat helpless.

"Reason?"

The First Chapter Master took a deep breath.

"You said the corruption of the Word Bearers is deepening, and they have always been fanatical believers, only intensifying after their betrayal. Through Night Lords, we learned that the disgusting mutation occurring in them actually stems from the corruption of the Warp."

"This is a perfectly legitimate and reasonable argument. However, for this group of believers, the mutation is probably actually a blessing from God."

"I don't know if gods exist in the Warp, but if they do, winning their favor would be incredibly difficult. Considering the sacrificial practices and deliberate torture we observed during our previous voyages, I can roughly guess why you convened the Librarian."

Roboute Guilliman's lips inevitably curled up slightly, and a hint of amusement was clearly visible in his eyes.

"Your guess is absolutely right, Gage, impressive. But this will likely be quite difficult. I'm not sure if our Librarian can sense which area of Warp energy is most concentrated under the current circumstances. So, I've found us an outside helper."

"That Sergeant Jago Sevatarion?"

"Yes."

Gage sighed. "Sir, you should know that he is—"

"--Yes, I know. I also know that his psionic talent has been sealed again. But that's alright. Van Cleef told me that the Night Lords possess a special kind of vision."

Roboute Guilliman sighed, "I can't even say whether it's a curse or a recessive genetic talent. They've really had a rough life."

"Considering the war we are currently fighting, perhaps you should slightly modify the adjective 'curse'."

"But everything comes at a price, Gage," Roboute Guilliman said, his gaze becoming slightly distant.

He inevitably thought of Konrad Curze Curze and the stories he had told in the past, those about Karyl Lohars— to be fair, they were good stories.

It's about the cost, about blades, about killing. It's about a Ghost who found a child in hell, and the child told the story himself, with pride.

Russ loved the story so much that he reportedly later adapted it and told it to his wolf pack.

Lion Aljonson, too, remarkably maintained a respectful tone towards the Lion El'Jonson in the epic tales of others.

Even Perturabo didn't express any inappropriate emotions towards the door that Dorn gifted him in the story. No one knows what the Lord of Iron is thinking, but the rumors surrounding him and the only instructor of the Eighth Legion aren't exactly a secret.

It wasn't a secret, at least not to the Primarch, so his expressionless face was often misinterpreted. At least once, Fulgrim went over and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. What happened after that wasn't so pleasant.

The only person who remained completely silent about the story was Kolus Corax, who rarely attended banquets, and on the few occasions he did attend, he drank glass after glass because of these stories, leaving quickly as if he were running away.

What am I thinking?

Roboute Guilliman closed his eyes, gathered his thoughts, and banished these things to a corner of his mind. To him now, they shone brightly, more precious than jewels. But precisely because of this, he couldn't dwell on them.

He still has things to do; he is Roboute Guilliman.

"Primarch?"

"I'm still here, Gage," said the Lord of Macragge. "Just a moment's distraction, and you're already on your way to the bridge, aren't you?"

"Yes, Primarch."

"Great, I'll be right there."

He hung up the call, his expression now calm.

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