Fatherly-Love-as-a-Mountain Fist

Before he had even finished speaking, he reached out with one huge hand and clamped it around the questioning warrior's neck armor like an iron vise.

As easily as lifting an unruly kitten, he hoisted him off the ground.

Leaning close to his son's ear, he spoke in a low voice filled with "temptation":

"So, have you felt your father's 'gentlemanly' pure strength?"

"As long as you abandon your stubborn reverence for the Astartes Codex.

One day, you too will become as strong as your father, becoming a true 'gentleman' who does not rely on external things!!"

"R-Really? Father..."

The warrior struggled uselessly in midair, his voice carrying terror and a faint sliver of hope.

Guilliman smiled at him with incomparable "gentleness." "Of course it's true! When have I ever lied to you?

But now... get some proper sleep first!

My son, you must remember to rest well!!"

With that, his other huge hand slammed down, pressing the Ultramarine's face and helmet viciously into the solid ground!

"Boom!!"

With a muffled crash, the floor paved with special stone was smashed into a clear crater, and the warrior instantly passed out.

Guilliman casually tossed him aside and swept his gaze over the other Ultramarines again.

The warriors nearly lost their souls beneath his gaze. One of them cried out in a trembling voice, "Father! We're your biological sons! Father!"

"Ha ha ha!"

"To beg for mercy, you're even calling me Father now?"

"This willingness to do anything for survival...

It's so awesome!"

Guilliman burst into laughter, clearly in an excellent mood. "That's exactly how it should be. If you can't win, say nice things! There will always be another chance!

Since you brought that up, your father must quote another famous saying from Confucius—'Education knows no class distinctions'!"

"Education knows no class distinctions? What does that mean, Father?" Another soldier asked instinctively in his extreme nervousness.

The companions beside him immediately went pale and hurried away from him, terrified of being implicated.

Guilliman gave this "studious" warrior an exceptionally "kind" smile and patiently explained:

"'Education knows no class distinctions' means that when I teach you how to behave, I don't care who you are!"

His voice abruptly turned stern, like thunder:

"Even if you're my own son, I'll still beat you without mercy!!"

The instant the word "mercy" fell, he sprang forward like a bolt of lightning and viciously kicked the warrior in the chest!

"Thud—!"

The warrior flew backward as if struck by heavy artillery.

He traced a long arc through the air, spun through several perfect 360-degree rotations, then crashed heavily to the ground and fell completely unconscious.

The warriors nearby were so terrified they were on the verge of collapse, yet their feet seemed rooted to the spot.

But not a single one turned and fled—in the presence of their gene-father, such shame was more than they could bear!

They would rather be beaten flat by their father than commit such cowardice and disappoint him!

Guilliman took all of this in. Rather than becoming angry, he looked even more satisfied.

"Very good! Even in the face of my current martial might, you refuse to run. Good, very good! You truly are Guilliman's sons!"

He praised them loudly, and his aura surged once more.

"As a reward, your father will show you his true strength today! Let you properly experience what belated fatherly love means!"

"Come! Fatherly-Love-as-a-Mountain Fist!!"

Guilliman threw a fierce punch at the face of an Ultramarine beside him, sending the warrior flying.

Then he charged into the crowd like a tiger among sheep, his fists striking left and right while his kicks howled through the air!

"Utmost-Care Palm!"

"Hope-You-Bear-a-Dragon Kick!"

He shouted the names of his self-created techniques, brimming with "love."

Every blow was precise and heavy, allowing every Ultramarine "fortunate" enough to taste one to personally experience that fatherly love delayed by ten thousand years.

It was far too heavy!

This fatherly love was as heavy as a mountain, as solid as the earth, as enormous as a star!

Thus, this father who had slept for ten thousand years used his most "plain and unadorned" method.

With fist and foot, he "patiently" "coaxed" every "good son" who had strayed down the wrong path of thought into a peaceful, sweet slumber like that of a baby.

Only after the hundreds of Ultramarines in the plaza were all lying neatly on the ground, sleeping with utter "peace," did Guilliman finally stop, still wanting more.

With his hands on his hips, he looked over the "results" covering the ground, his face wearing a proud and gratified smile.

"Very good. Only by sleeping well and eating well can you grow tall."

At the side, Calgar's face twisted as though he were severely constipated, his heart filled with conflicting emotions.

He looked at his father, whose style of conduct was completely unlike the legends, yet whose strength inspired heartfelt admiration.

In the end, all his emotions turned into an indescribable reverence:

My father really is... really is... so awesome!

He would forever remember his father's unique, bone-deep, earnest lesson!

Landros's nostrils were filled with a rich, familiar fragrance.

That scent stirred distant memories, as though he had returned to his days as a recruit.

In some corner where the fighting had temporarily ceased, the veterans of the company had roasted food for rookies like them using some strange captured creature... It seemed to have been... Ant-Cow meat?

At the same time, dull "Bang! Bang! Bang!" sounds reached his ears, like enormous fists repeatedly hammering something tough.

Exhaustedly, he opened his heavy eyelids, and his blurred vision gradually cleared.

Then he saw a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life:

His towering gene-father, Guilliman, was pinning a giant Ant-Cow over three meters tall to the ground with one knee, even as it continued struggling.

With the Ant-Cow pinned down, Guilliman's fists pounded like pile drivers, savagely striking the relatively vulnerable joints in its shell again and again.

Even more astonishingly, "flames" were rising beneath the Ant-Cow.

But they were no ordinary flames. Several plasma guns fixed to the ground were continuously blasting out torrents of searing heat!

The glow of plasma cast the surroundings in an eerie blue light.

Guilliman hammered the Ant-Cow while forcibly pressing its wounded, bleeding areas into the plasma jets to "roast" them!

When heat capable of melting through tank armor touched his bare skin, it did not leave even the faintest red mark.

Instead, the Ant-Cow was roasted until it let out shrill, inhuman screeches.

"Oh, you're awake?" Guilliman seemed to notice that he had awakened. Without turning his head, he laughed heartily. "Since you're awake, come over quickly. It's just time to eat."

After a child had thrown a tantrum and gotten beaten, even if he sulked back to his room, his father still had to call him out to eat!

That was the traditional educational method of old Chinese families!

At that moment, the Ant-Cow seemed to have been driven into a corner. Its instinct to survive made it unleash its final strength.

With a sudden struggle, its hideous mandibles, like enormous pincers, snapped viciously toward Guilliman's unprotected throat!

Yet its head was firmly caught midair by an even faster huge hand.

"Squish!"

A teeth-grating crisp crack rang out.

The Ant-Cow's hard head burst in Guilliman's palm like a crushed egg, spraying red and white matter everywhere.

Its body twitched violently a few times before losing all life, and Guilliman casually threw it into the "plasma bonfire."