93 Roboute Guilliman (4k)

Being trusted can, to some extent, lead some people to willingly jump into a cage of paranoia. Similarly, the gaze and expectations of others can sometimes become a poison that erodes rationality.

Roboute Guilliman had a deep understanding of both of these things.

In fact, if he wanted, he could describe them in thousands of different ways. He could analyze them using the philosophical thinking he learned at the Jericho University, or he could write a sonnet to vaguely and ambiguously point out their good and bad.

However, after setting aside all this useless elaboration, he actually only had one thought left in his mind.

He cannot let them down.

Anxiety and unease then follow.

So Roboute Guilliman started trying to work again.

This was the thirty-ninth time today. He sat behind his marble table, straightened his back, and reached for a Dataslate.

Macragge's report on the people's livelihood appeared in green numbers. He read them, grasped them, and then began issuing orders. Three minutes later, he heard footsteps outside the corridor. This meant that the officials in the administration building had received his orders and were now on their way to carry them out.

He relocated his office—formerly King Conno's study—to the top floor of the building, the administrative hub of Macragge, where all government officials worked. Despite the change in location, the office's decor remained the same.

Everything inside was arranged exactly as Conno Roboute Guilliman had liked, even the scratches on the wooden floors hadn't been removed. Apart from some furniture being replaced to fit his size, nothing else had changed.

Data processing—by now, it's almost become an instinct for him. He can do it perfectly well without having to think about it.

He quickly finished his daily administrative duties and then fell into an indescribable emotional state. Uncontrollably, he began to recall that cold feeling, the terrifying sensation of lying in the ocean being washed by the tide.

In a daze, that immense sense of oppression descended once more.

Roboute Guilliman closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his temples, trying to ignore them, but he couldn't.

His reason was screaming, and the part of his memory that held the Imperial Truth was in terrible conflict with the reality he was witnessing.

After a long silence, he sighed, raised his head, and intended to look at the portraits of his adoptive father and biological father. But when he looked up, what he saw was not the two portraits hanging on the wall, but a pale and gloomy face.

"I didn't hear any alarms," Roboute Guilliman said after taking a deep breath.

"Of course," the unexpected visitor replied softly. "I used a method I shouldn't have, and I apologize if it startled you."

Roboute Guilliman frowned, and then surprisingly laughed.

"Actually, Instructor Karyl, you didn't scare me. Compared to what you showed me five days ago, this sudden appearance is nothing."

Karyl did not answer him immediately, but instead gazed at the slightly haggard Lord of Macragge. After a brief moment of staring, he smiled slightly.

"That's the truth you demanded," he said. "So, I don't want to take on the accusation of keeping you confined in the room for more than five days."

"Don't use honorifics at times like this." Roboute Guilliman shook his head wearily. "I guess my housekeeper has already gone to see you?"

"Yes."

"Please forgive her, Ms. Euten is just that stubborn; she still insists I eat vegetables three times a week. I'm not a picky eater, Karyl, but I don't want to see more than three kinds of vegetables on my table during a lavish dinner."

He shook his head with a smile, but secretly observed Karyl's reaction out of the corner of his eye.

This is interesting, Karyl did not overlook this, as well as the slightly amusing anecdote that Roboute Guilliman deliberately revealed—in his words, he was telling Karyl Luhals that Euten was a lady of exceptional status.

Can't we even talk properly anymore?

Karyl laughed, but what he said next had nothing to do with Roboute Guilliman's previous statement, "You're probably wondering now why I came to find you so quietly."

Roboute Guilliman slowly narrowed his eyes and said calmly, "I won't deny it."

"They won't admit it either."

"Of course, that's how politicians are, and I'm the biggest politician in Macragge."

He was also the kindest-hearted politician.

"Becoming a politician has nothing to do with whether someone is kind-hearted or not, Karyl."

"Do you enjoy this cryptic conversation?" his visitor asked gently.

"No."

"Really? But you seem to be enjoying it."

"Because you're the only person I've spoken to in the past five days. I don't enjoy playing games, but I love and cherish every second of talking to someone I respect," Roboute Guilliman said candidly. "These past few days I've thought many times about whether someone will push the door open. But, let alone push it open, they won't even knock. Even Dataslate and government documents are delivered through that fast track over there."

He raised his hand and pointed to a long, iron-gray metal block on the wall next to him. It didn't match the overall style and structure of the study; in fact, it seemed somewhat out of place.

"A small sacrifice in efficiency," Roboute Guilliman said, noticing Karyl's gaze and explaining beforehand. "Sometimes I have to stay in this office for a whole day and night."

Is the work really that hard?

"If I were simply acting as the commander of the Ultramarines, it wouldn't be that troublesome. I could handle all the day's affairs in half a day at most. But I am also the ruler chosen by Macragge, and the people trust me. So I must do my best."

"The best." Karyl nodded thoughtfully. "Usually, people do their best within their capabilities, but you seem a little different, Roboute Guilliman."

Roboute Guilliman raised an eyebrow.

"So you're finally not going to use honorifics on me anymore," he said, half-jokingly. "I didn't quite believe it when Rogal told me."

Karyl smiled slightly, his face gentle. "Perhaps you should believe, just as you should believe in the Imperial Truth."

After that sentence, the atmosphere took a sharp turn for the worse.

"How can I ever believe again?" Roboute Guilliman replied somberly.

"Imperial Truth denies superstition, religion, and all supernatural forces, even those things that humanity cannot yet understand; they are merely a part of objective existence. Sooner or later, they will be fully interpreted, fully analyzed, and fully understood. Before that night, I truly believed this, Karyl. But not anymore."

Why not?

With a wry smile, Roboute Guilliman shook his head, the laurel wreath gleaming on his forehead. "Because one cannot believe a lie."

"But you can maintain it," Karyl said softly.

"To Deceit everyone with lies?"

A white lie.

"They're both lies, essentially no different. I can't believe I'm saying this."

Roboute Guilliman chuckled and leaned back in his chair, but his smile was tinged with a deep sense of self-deprecation and self-mockery.

"I'm a politician who's mature beyond my years, perhaps even one of the most outstanding politicians in the galaxy. And now I'm denying a lie that can keep countless people rational?"

"You're not denying it," Karyl said. "You're just trying to convince yourself, which is a common ailment among people like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Yes."

"Who am I?" Guilliman retorted. "If you're going to try to fob me off with a long list of titles, then don't bother. Stripped of all that, I'm simply Roboute Guilliman, nothing more."

"And I'm talking about Roboute Guilliman right now," Karyl said calmly. "A man torn between being right and being right in another way."

". correct?"

Roboute Guilliman looked at him blankly, as if he didn't understand the meaning of the words that Karyl Lohars had just uttered.

"Correct?" he repeated, in the most standard High Gothic. "What is correct?"

"The right path is the hardest," Karyl replied softly.

He stood in the shadows of the room; by now, it was completely dark.

The curtains in the study were already drawn, and now they blocked out the little light available. His pale face was faintly visible in the darkness, and with his dark eyes, he seemed like some kind of evil incarnation that only existed in ancient legends.

Roboute Guilliman laughed abruptly, laughing at his own ill-timed and flawed analogy.

An embodiment of evil. He smiled and shook his head. An embodiment of evil patiently guiding me.

After a moment of silence, Roboute Guilliman spoke again.

"Father trusts you very much," he said. "Rogal and Fulgrim both mentioned it, and while Ferrus didn't say it explicitly, I could tell he wanted to tell me the same thing. As for Lorgar... well, Karyl, has there been any conflict between you two?"

Why do you ask that?

"It's just a gut feeling."

"There was one conflict," Karyl said. "But it was nothing serious, just a minor incident, and it's been resolved."

"I won't ask for the specifics," Roboute Guilliman sighed and made a gesture.

"In short, Father trusts you a lot—not just from what my brothers say, but I can sense it in many other ways. So I'm wondering, were you showing me those things on his orders?"

Is this important to you?

"It's not important," Roboute Guilliman said. "But it will solve many of my problems."

Karyl looked at him for a moment—or rather, stared at him.

Roboute Guilliman pursed his lips in exasperation; he disliked being stared at by Karyl Lohars.

If you had to put it into words, looking into his eyes would make Roboute Guilliman feel like a Garden of Nurgle, while Karyl Rojas would feel like a seasoned gardener.

This gardener would wield a shovel, turning over every clod of soil in the Garden of Nurgle to see what was underneath—he might even unearth a few feet below a few decaying skeletons.

"So, you're not going to get to the bottom of this." After a long period of digging, Karyl said this, his voice as soft as ever.

"Perhaps."

"Those things. They're poisonous, Roboute Guilliman," the visitor in the darkness said slowly. "They contaminate everyone who sees them, a contamination that leaves no trace, and there's rarely any way to escape it."

"Humans are spared their direct gaze only because someone stole fire. That's all."

"This man, holding a torch, repeatedly frightened and fought them in the darkness. Sometimes they would easily flee, and sometimes they wouldn't, and he would face a fierce battle. Imagine that scene, Roboute. Isn't it comical to see a man wielding a torch and fighting monsters in the dark?"

Yes, it's quite comical.

Roboute Guilliman slowly sat up, his expression serious.

"Where did you learn all this?" he asked in the softest voice he had ever used.

His visitor did not answer; he simply extended his right hand, just as he had that night.

"How about it?" the visitor asked. "Want to find out?"

Roboute Guilliman slowly stood up, his gaze fixed on the hand. Pale, with long, slender fingers, calluses covering the base of the thumb, fingers, and palm. Some speculations about weapons and combat quickly entered Roboute Guilliman's mind, but he let them slip away.

Now is not the time for analysis, nor does he need to analyze these things.

"What does this mean?" Roboute Guilliman asked calmly.

"A handshake." Karyl smiled slightly. "An ancient custom, originating from Terra. I think you should know that."

"Of course I know—but what I want to ask is, what are the consequences of this?"

What do you think?

Roboute Guilliman frowned and shook his head in annoyance. "The time for riddles is over, Karyl. I don't want to play these games with you now. I just want to know what the consequences will be."

"Hold it," Karyl said calmly, his tone so calm it carried no hint of urging. "Then you'll know."

Roboute Guilliman's eye began to twitch, and half a minute later, he thought of Euten's face. Half a minute later, he looked up and glanced at the portraits of his fathers.

Conno Roboute Guilliman gazed calmly at the Emperor, Master of Mankind, whose eyes were closed and whose face was filled with sorrow.

Then he reached out his hand.

Then—a flash of golden light appeared and disappeared.

--

The nights in Macragge were completely different from those in Nostramo, but Karyl wasn't surprised. Places like Nostramo were rare indeed, given the vastness of the universe.

He crouched atop the garrison assigned to him by the Eighth Legion, gently pressing his palms against the roof, feeling the lingering warmth that was about to dissipate. It was just getting dark, but the warmth cast by the sun would linger for some time.

That's great.

He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and instead of using psychic powers, he used another kind of warm power.

He is indeed very outstanding.

His excellence has nothing to do with me.

"Really? Roboute Guilliman probably wouldn't be too happy if he knew about this."

Are you going to tell him?

Maybe, if you don't thank me.

+I thanked you that very night, Karyl.+

I wasn't referring to that.

The pale giant opened his eyes and, unusually, smiled with a touch of wicked amusement. He lay back and slowly closed his eyes.

He needs to rest for a while.

That's all for today.