76 Dark Crusade (10, Kha'Bandha)

The Eldar succumbed quickly to Roboute Guilliman. 69 🅂🄷🅄🅇.🄲🄾🄼

Moreover, since then, they seem to have stopped babbling on and on. Several place names were quickly thrown out by these Xenos, and they pronounced the names of these worlds with great familiarity, as if they had visited them many times before.

Janus was utterly disgusted by the matter. He knew the Eldar were deeply divided, but he couldn't be bothered to investigate further.

Finding the murderer is something only Judgment who believe in justice and the law would do. As for outsiders, they are all treated equally by the Third Company Captain —any Xenos deserves to die.

However, this is not the main reason why he is now standing behind an Eldar with his hand on his sword.

"That's it," Eldar said in High Gothic, pointing with her right hand to the projection of the star map. "An unnamed planet, this is it, Astartes."

It pronounced the four words "Astartes" with intonation, as if reciting poetry, which made Janus frown deeply.

He suppressed a kind of instinct he had developed from years of fighting, an instinct that could be described as "hatred," and tried to make his tone flat and calm—he succeeded, but at a painful cost.

In that instant, he seemed to see again those who had died because of the Eldar.

"You'd better check carefully," Janus warned. "If there's even the slightest mistake, you and your people will die."

Hearing his words, Eldar turned around. Its body beneath its robes was slender and unarmored. Janus narrowed his eyes and, with the gaze of a war butcher, began to dissect its flesh and bones in public, contemplating which direction he would swing his sword to cleave it apart.

He seemingly casually revealed his intentions, which the Eldar accepted without question, without showing any of the emotions that Janus hoped to see.

It didn't even get angry; instead, it obediently bowed slightly.

"We have come with this very understanding," Eldar said in a gentle yet firm tone. "Whether you believe it or not, Captain, I personally believe that this will be the beginning of a renewed friendship between humans and Eldar."

It hardly sounds like an Eldar.

Janus nodded with a cold laugh, offering no response to its delusional fantasies.

There are many people like him among humanity who have lost many important things, or even everything, because of the Xenos —and hatred does not end on its own. These restless souls cannot find any peace until the moment of bloody Vengeance arrives.

"Don't you trust me, Company Commander?" the Eldar asked again.

"Don't push your luck," Janus said, still holding his sword.

The Eldar slowly turned its eyes, glanced at his right hand, its expression remaining unchanged, and simply shook its head slightly.

"I am not the kind of person who is ungrateful, Your Excellency. I confess to you that we are indeed a divided race. Some of us have chosen to flee out of some kind of fear, sinking into sin and becoming numb."

"They dedicated their long lives to a cruel, dark, and evil path. This path has no end; they are beyond redemption. We are different. Please believe this; we are different."

"Your words are nothing but lies and poison to me," Janus said coldly. "The only reason I tolerate you standing before me spouting nonsense is because my Primarch allows it."

"Otherwise, you would have been beheaded the moment I saw you and your kind. I don't care where you come from or what your beliefs are; I don't care about any of that. So, go do what you need to do, you Xenos scum."

The Eldar nodded obediently again, showing no disappointment on its face. It bowed once more, turned around, and began to move the star map again with its slender fingers.

The crew, who had already been notified, seemed to casually glance in this direction as a Xenos boarded the main bridge of the Macragge's Honour and even used Cogitator to mark the star map.

Even with a company commander overseeing it, this still seems somewhat appalling.

Janus was fully aware of their spying; he could even distinguish whose gazes were filled with curiosity and disgust, and whose were as hateful as his own.

However, this is not the time for expulsion or slaughter. Janus does not understand why his Primarch would choose to cooperate with the Eldar at this moment, but he will not refute any of Roboute Guilliman's suggestions.

He was self-aware and had long witnessed the Primarch's foresight.

Of course, Roboute Guilliman was greatly disappointed.

He stood in his office, took off his uniform, waved his arms, and gave another person a heavy sigh with a somber expression.

"I summoned him here hoping to see his discontent, or at least hear some of it! But he acted like a complete wooden puppet! My puppet! Oh, the blazing sun of Macragge!"

"If you have any complaints about him or them, my lord, perhaps you should speak your mind more directly," Karyl said without looking up.

He sat comfortably across the desk from Roboute Guilliman's seat, head down, flipping through an old Terra poetry collection. His words elicited a cold snort from the Primarch who was pacing back and forth on the wooden floor, crushing the Primarch beneath it.

"How could I dare? My company commanders all consider themselves my most loyal sons. If I did that, wouldn't I be contradicting their good intentions? What do you think, Lord Karyl?"

Karyl answered him in a very serious manner.

"I believe, Lord Roboute, this matter needs to be discussed at another time. Right now, our most pressing concern should be—"

He stood up, put the poetry collection together, and tapped its leather cover with his finger. The dull tapping sound replaced the heavy footsteps of the Primarch and began to echo in the study.

Roboute Guilliman watched him walk to his bookshelf and return the poetry collection beneath the portraits of King Conno and the Emperor.

"--What is it?" Roboute Guilliman asked.

"When to kill," Karyl said, "And how to kill."

Lord Macragge frowned. He keenly sensed something he didn't want to hear in those words, so he asked directly, his face full of suspicion.

Don't tell me you want to.

"Personally taking charge."

Karyl turned around and grinned at him. "Yes, just as you think, Roboute. I'm going to fight too."

Roboute Guilliman stared at his Shadow with a stern face.

He's not here right now.

"When will he be there?" Roboute Guilliman asked, frowning. "I feel I need to report to him about your unusual activity lately."

Karyl smiled and replied in a light tone, "Konrad Curze won't be around for a while, Roboute. He has some other things to take care of."

"What's up?"

"War," Karyl uttered the word, in a way that was remarkably calm, as if this powerful word, steeped in blood and death, were synonymous with books or sleep for him.

But Roboute Guilliman knew that wasn't the truth.

He could read sadness and self-blame in Karyl Lohars's dark eyes, emotions that made him choose silence—empathy was a false word, but at least it was real at this moment.

Roboute Guilliman understood his feelings. For ten thousand years, people had sung praises of his achievements, but only he knew the sacrifices hidden behind these so-called honors.

Moreover, it wasn't his sacrifice.

He especially hated this.

He is the father of many— the Gene-Father —and his words are the rules of the world for them. They obey him wholeheartedly, taking his every word to heart.

They saw nothing wrong with it; only Roboute Guilliman knew the danger involved.

But he was helpless. As time went by, the old men from the old legion died one after another, and fewer and fewer people could communicate with him as equals or even advise him when he was furious.

Now, such people no longer exist at all.

Now is the age of the Chapter. New Ultramarines, laden with honor, roar and wield their swords on the shoulders of their predecessors, striving to defend these medals and forge new honors of their own.

They grew up listening to the legends of Roboute Guilliman, and everyone knew his story by heart. They knew he had fought the swarms near Conno, and they had heard of him tearing the skin of Lorgar Aurelian and banishing the darkness of Chaos.

They regarded him as a god, a father-like god, but still a god, and gods are not to be disobeyed.

They are rational and principled, and will make their own choices when faced with matters of great importance. However, this is not the case when it comes to matters involving him; the way they treat him often fills Roboute Guilliman with fear during his meditations.

What will they do if he's gone one day?

Roboute Guilliman closed his eyes, slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, and did not reveal his true feelings.

He knew he didn't need to do that; Karyl was one of the few people in this era who could truly understand him. They had known each other for a long time and shared many similarities in their approach to the world. Moreover, Karyl Lohars saw him as a human being.

He saw him as a person who could make mistakes, feel anxious, and experience fear, rather than an omnipotent and merciful god.

Roboute Guilliman slowly opened his eyes, ending his brief meditation. Not for any other reason than that the astral array on the study floor was lighting up, and the buzzing sound it emitted was almost indistinguishable from an earthquake to Roboute Guilliman's keen senses.

The Primarch strode toward him, the gradually intensifying light engulfing his face, leaving only a pair of eyes, brighter than his own, clearly visible.

Roboute Guilliman frowned. The star array had never operated at such high power. In fact, when it was just an idea yet to be born, those responsible for designing it never intended to give it any overload capabilities.

In other words, this is a feature it shouldn't have had in the first place.

The buzzing began to intensify, becoming increasingly violent and high-pitched, until finally it almost became a high-pitched scream that could restore hearing to the deaf.

The air trembled as the alarm in the study began to blare shrilly. The door was smashed open by the Victrix Guard, who stormed into the study, fully armed, their silent fury spreading through their armor, the crimson visors of their eagle-faced helmets gleaming like a beam of destruction.

However, none of the anticipated attacks occurred; only Roboute Guilliman stood in the light, accompanied by his calm voice.

"Who is calling for the Macragge's Honour?" he asked authoritatively.

Karyl narrowed his eyes.

He smelled blood.

--

"It is I, Primarch," Hector Kargio said, bleeding.

He was panting, his armor bearing numerous wounds. The depths of the Chapter's encampment were filled with blood and corpses, the lingering Daemon flesh gradually transforming into Ethereal essence.

The Calth's Sons Librarian was radiating psionic energy around the magic circle to stabilize its existence, and glaring red warning lights flashed incessantly above the stone walls and steel, casting long, eerie Shadow on everyone.

A piercing howl echoed from nearby, mingled with battle cries and the shouts of exploding bombs. The Night Lords were fighting alongside the Calth's Sons deep within their sprawling encampments to resist the Daemon tide.

They had been fighting for four days straight, four whole days. Their original plan had been completely disrupted, and the Star Array had lost its original stability due to the influence of the Chaos Ethereal brought by the Daemon Gate. Only now, thanks to the tireless efforts of the Librarian, had it barely recovered.

"What happened?" asked the blurry image of Roboute Guilliman.

"Daemon invasion, Primarch, on an unprecedented scale," Kargio began his report clearly. "They have taken over the entire surface of Calth; they are everywhere, the Khorne's demonic army."

"And led by Ka'Bandha," Jago Sevatarion reminded in a low voice over the communication channel.

The other end of the communication line was filled with the howling of the wind and a strange roar.

"And led by Ka'Bandha," Kargio said.

Roboute Guilliman's pale blue image flickered; he seemed to say something, but the Chapter Master couldn't hear him at all. The damp smell of blood wafted from above, gradually spreading to every corner of the air.

The magic circle was swaying, Kargio, who was in the center, could perceive it with exceptional clarity. He looked up and heard a deep rumble of thunder amidst the screams of the Librarian members.

He quickly realized that it wasn't thunder.

He drew his gun and rolled to the other side. The ceiling collapsed, and steel and rubble crashed to the ground, revealing a massive, powerful, and savage figure to everyone present.

Its mere appearance caused a burning pain in their eyes. It stood hunched over, yet could easily touch the ceiling without standing upright. Steam rose from its menacing horns, and a long, scarlet tongue flickered slightly between its sharp teeth.

It could actually speak human language.

"Jago Sevatarion," it called with a sneer. "Keep fighting. You'll be a nice appetizer before he shows up."