Driven to Fear
The power of the four gods receded like a receding tide.
The last few strands of evil god energy connecting Magnus also completely dissipated into the air.
It left only a sense of panic, like a "hot potato" being thrown away.
They were genuinely afraid—what if that wretched link hadn't been severed even a second later?
Guilliman's fist, capable of shaking the Warp Essence.
What if it gets smashed through the network cable again?
Honestly.
That was definitely not a "good feeling" in any sense.
Those who are most qualified to speak on this matter.
He was probably one of Nurgle's unfortunate demons.
It's located in an ancient cesspool on the edge of Nurgle's Garden, where top-quality urine, supposedly from the 21st century BC, is fermenting.
He was rolling around contentedly, enjoying his loving father's "gift".
Sudden.
The entire Garden of Nurgle shook violently.
Golden Psionic Energy flames, belonging to the "Cursed One," burst forth from some dimensional rift.
Unfortunately, the fire spread to the cesspool where it was located.
Several of its demon companions, who were rolling around with it, didn't even have time to scream before they were turned from "fermented matter" into "charcoal".
The surviving demon crawled out of the steaming dung soup, waving its festering arms and letting out angry, muffled roars:
"Gibberish gibberish gibberish!" (I was enjoying some vintage holy urine from the 21st century BC! Then the Garden of Nurgle shook, cursed fires raged, and my brothers were burned to ashes! Guilliman deserves to die!!)
Yes.
Just as the Lord of Change Tzeentch can amplify Magnus's original "erroneous" Psionic Energy communication that resounded Milky Way.
The Master of Mankind, seated upon Golden Throne.
Similarly, they can channel their vast and unparalleled Psionic Energy in the most exquisite and violent ways.
It was added to Guilliman's fist!
Guilliman's punch was enough to "physically convince" the planet to function, using the purest and most fundamental Material Universe as its carrier.
The Emperor's Psionic Energy, which had been bound for millennia, finally found a perfect and powerful outlet.
That feeling.
Like a painter with superb skills who is struggling to find the right brush.
Suddenly, they received a magic pen that could hold any paint and would never wear out.
Deep within the Golden Throne.
The Emperor's will resounded with a muffled thud, almost audible satisfaction: I have never fought such a glorious battle!
The center of the battlefield.
Magnus had fallen into utter despair.
After the power of the Four Gods' blessings was forcibly extracted.
His amazing recovery ability also declined sharply.
He could only lie broken and battered amidst the ruins formed by his own flesh and armor fragments.
He stared blankly up at the blue figure standing in front of him.
It was still that blue and gold "Armor of Destiny".
His height has not changed.
However, her once dazzling blonde hair had somehow turned into a deep, inky black.
However.
That naturally emanating absolute majesty, seemingly capable of quelling all strife and rebellion.
But in a daze, Magnus saw... the shadow of his father.
He had to admit it.
Even across ten thousand years of betrayal, hatred, and distortion.
Deep within his heart was a complex mix of fear and reverence for the Emperor.
It still stubbornly exists.
"Calgar, keep an eye on him."
Guilliman's voice was calm and unwavering as he issued the command.
"Yes, Father!"
Calgar flew over without hesitation.
He gripped tightly in one hand the Power Sword "Loyalist's Glory," which Guilliman had personally forged for him.
The cold blade pressed precisely against Magnus's exposed carotid artery; the other Power Fist was like an iron clamp.
It firmly locked the scarred head of the Crimson Demon Lord.
Make sure that it doesn't resist in the slightest or make any small movements that involve using Psionic Energy.
Calgar's tone was extremely solemn, even carrying a martyr-like resolve.
Behold, a Primarch, what a formidable opponent!
The genetic power of the Son of War within him was boiling and roaring!
Calgar even hoped Magnus would rebel, so he would have a reason to smash his head in and deliver his death to the Gene-Father.
With his superhuman strength of a thousand tons, coupled with the terrifying boost from the Power Fist.
When the opponent is unable to defend effectively.
Smashing this Primarch's head isn't an impossible task!
"Magnus."
Guilliman lowered his gaze, his eyes devoid of any brotherly warmth.
Only the coldness of rulers and judges.
"Listen, I'm giving you one more chance—a chance as 'consumables'."
"You must give me an answer when I come back after I've finished all this."
This is the final verdict.
Guilliman's humanity had long since succumbed to the urge to forgive his treacherous brother.
But the true nature of the "Son of War" has only just subsided.
Yet, it reminded him with absolute rationality that transcended emotion: the forbidden knowledge Magnus possessed, the essential power of his being as Primarch, and even his profound connection with the Warp.
In a specific context.
All of these can be transformed into extremely useful "strategic consumables".
Destroying it like this doesn't conform to the "best practices" principle.
Guilliman chose to trust his own fundamental judgment.
After all, the title of "best Archon of all mankind" is no joke.
As a qualified emperor who is about to rule the Imperium of Man.
He must learn to suppress his personal emotions.
He dealt with problems with the ruthless pursuit of maximum benefit—including dealing with his brother.
After saying that.
Guilliman didn't look at Magnus again.
Turn around.
He strode forward.
With each step he took, a scorching and powerful "qi and blood," or rather, a field of life energy, emanated from him.
The tremors radiated outwards from him.
This is not Psionic Energy.
Rather, it was a natural manifestation of his incredibly powerful physical strength.
It is a manifestation of the purest and most extreme Material Universe power!
This moment.
The Warp itself seemed to be trembling, as if it were being "corrected".
The material world and the Warp are two sides of the same coin, just as the evil energy of the Warp can corrupt reality.
So.
A sufficiently powerful and pure material force.
Conversely, the chaos of the Warp can also be "defined" or even "covered"!
Unfortunately.
What Guilliman possesses at this moment.
It is precisely this "sufficient" power.
After completely absorbing and crushing the remaining essences of the Bloodthirster Skarbrand and the Tzeentch Greater Daemon Carlos.
His physical strength has increased to twice its previous level.
It has reached a terrifying level that even the laws of Warp must "face" or even "retreat" from.
With each step he took...
Beneath their feet lay the once ever-changing, bizarre, and fantastical Warp.
It even made a creaking sound as it struggled to bear the weight.
Then it turned into something like butter that had been scalded with a hot iron.
It was forcibly solidified and stabilized!
The illusory, indescribable colors and forms faded away.
Instead, there is a rough but solid "ground" with clearly defined physical properties.
Although its color may be an eerie purplish-red or a murky grayish-yellow.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The sound of footsteps was dull, solid, and full of the texture of the material world.
It reverberates in Warp where the concept of "sound" should theoretically not exist.
It was so clear it was chilling.
That's Guilliman for you.
It's like walking along the corridors of the city hall in Ultramar.
He walked through this Warp region that he had forcibly "realized" with his power.
Not far away.
On the flagship of the Red Corsairs.
The Huron Blackheart gripped the armrest of the command throne tightly.
Their fingernails were almost digging into the metal.
he.
He is the Lord Regent of the Maelstrom.
He was the first Space Marines leader to instigate a large-scale rebellion.
He was a tyrant whom countless Red Corsairs looked up to.
He should have roared.
The order was given to Blackstone Fortress to open fire.
They should show the spirit of fighting to the death...
But after witnessing firsthand the Primarch's terrifying power—like a humanoid catastrophe, beating up a proxy of Chaos Gods with his bare hands, and solidifying Warp as he walked—he was truly amazed.
The Huron Blackheart discovered.
His own pride in his ambition, cruelty, and rebellious spirit.
It melted away like ice and snow under the sun.
Blackstone Fortress?
In front of that person.
It's probably not much different from a toy made of paper.
He didn't move.
The command channel was completely silent.
The Red Corsairs on the deck, beside the gun emplacements, and inside the landing craft were terrified and dared not even breathe.
They are not afraid of death.
But I fear this absolute crushing force that transcends the realm of comprehension, akin to facing the very laws of the universe.
Guilliman's gaze swept across the Red Corsairs ' fleet like a scanning array.
Finally, it landed on that most iconic flagship.
His steps were unwavering, without any pause or change of direction; he walked straight in that direction.
The Warp lay beneath his feet.
It continues to be stepped out of the dull, realistic echo.