Food That Provoked Bloodthirst

The group of Lamenters, led by the Ultramarines, entered the banquet hall, where an incredibly large table was set up, large enough to accommodate all eighty-two of them.

On the side table, various dishes were neatly arranged, all covered completely by metal plates, yet the rich and mellow aroma still penetrated the barrier, lingering in the air.

Each Lamenters's gaze was filled with a hint of fanaticism, fixed intently on the plates, their curiosity almost overflowing.

They were so eager to know what was inside that a restless, almost Red Thirst urge surged through their bodies.

Fortunately, this restlessness is still under control. After all, this is not a battlefield, and there is no trigger for Black Rage, so this torment can be endured.

Besides, they knew in their hearts that these delicacies would end up in their own bellies sooner or later.

If it were any more unbearable, even just two more hours, these warriors, tormented by Red Thirst, might do something that would violate the honor of the Emperor.

However, Guilliman, the leader of the Ultramarines, had not yet arrived, and no one dared to touch the food on the table until he appeared.

The Lamenters their heads and cheeks, some even stamping their feet lightly on the polished deck, waiting anxiously.

Suddenly, the heavy doors of the banquet hall slowly opened, the sound of the hinges turning filling the air.

Whether it was the Ultramarines guarding the door or the Lamenters inside the hall, they all felt an indescribable, overwhelming pressure that instantly enveloped the entire hall.

Roboute, Guilliman of Ultramar, walked slowly, his feet treading on the cold steel deck in his exquisite Roman sandals, his steps steady.

He was dressed in traditional Roman casual wear, with several pieces of white silk embroidered with gold thread that perfectly outlined his strong and handsome physique, exuding both nobility and Primarch majestic bearing.

He was clearly walking on the deck of this material world, yet he seemed to transcend the mortal realm and rise above all things.

With a polite and gentle smile on his face, every move he made exuded natural elegance, yet just by standing there, everyone in the hall couldn't help but feel the urge to kneel down.

It was a kind of law manifested in reality, so sublime that it could make every life tremble in its soul; it was a terrifying power of law that could be compared to life and death.

Looking at the trembling, Lamenters and his own children, Guilliman felt a pang of helplessness.

Is his physical presence now so overwhelming that even these Space Marines can clearly feel fear?

His ability to withstand pressure had been greatly improved after the modification, but it was clearly not keeping up with the rapid increase in his own strength.

Not only did his physical strength increase tenfold, but he also gained the extraordinary characteristics of Perpetual, making his stamina virtually inexhaustible.

At this moment, Guilliman was confident that even if the Emperor himself descended, he could suppress the Emperor's Psionic Energy power from interfering with the Realspace.

As the power of matter grows ever stronger, his suppression of the Warp has become so powerful that even the Material Universe is drawn to it.

Wherever he goes, that is where the Tao resides, and the entire Material Universe constantly offers him silent praise.

However, his power had increased too rapidly, and his control over his physical aura was no longer as precise as before, causing his own aura to ripple out unintentionally.

Even the Material Universe doesn't know how to restrain its power, which is why everyone around it is under such intense pressure.

Guilliman smiled and clapped his hands twice, his tone kind and gentle. "Relax, everyone. In terms of blood ties, you should all call me uncle."

"King of Ultramar! The great Roboute Guilliman!"

Malakim abruptly stood up, knelt on one knee before Guilliman, and said with utmost sincerity, "What merit do we have to call you by our blood relation?"

"If other Chapter wanted to call me uncle, I'd have to see what kind of people they are first."

Guilliman spoke calmly, yet his words carried undeniable weight:

"If their conduct is acceptable, then let them call me Lord of the Thirteenth Legion, or King of Ultramar; if their conduct is improper, I will smash their heads with one punch and make them pay for their transgressions."

He changed the subject, his eyes showing genuine warmth. "But you are different. If you are willing to call me 'uncle,' I will be genuinely happy."

Guilliman's words were no exaggeration. The Lamenters were a top-tier Chapter on par with the Salamanders, whose genetic mutations were trending towards benign. These warriors were devoted to protecting humanity, which made it impossible for him not to favor them.

Malakim bowed his head, his heart filled with surging emotions—what an unparalleled honor this was!

"It's alright, just call me Uncle Robert." Guilliman's smile grew even warmer.

"My lord, even if you bestow such an honor upon us, we absolutely cannot accept it," Malakim said in a deep voice, expressing the sentiments of all those Lamenters. "Such a title is far too presumptuous; we... are not worthy of it."

Seeing that these guys were so unyielding, Guilliman frowned slightly and suddenly asked, "You should know that the Gene-Father is Sanguinius, right?"

"Of course we know! He is our great Gene-Father, and we long to go to his tomb at all times to offer our most sincere praise!" the Lamenters responded in unison, their voices filled with reverence.

"Alright, then let me tell you about the funny things that happened between him and me back then."

Before anyone could react, Guilliman had already spoken with a smile:

"When the Horus Heresy swept through the Imperium, I, the First Primarch Lion, and your Gene-Father Sanguinius lost contact with the Imperium for a time."

To preserve the human race, we plan to establish a second...

"Uncle!!"

"Father!!"

Malakim and the two Ultramarines standing beside him suddenly roared, their movements incredibly fast.

One Ultramarines clung tightly to Guilliman's shoulders, another wrapped his arms around his legs, while Malakim lunged forward and held onto Guilliman's waist.

"Uncle! Please stop! Uncle Robert! I call you uncle! This matter absolutely cannot be mentioned!"

Malakim's voice trembled with anxiety, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The two Ultramarines glanced around the hall and noticed that, apart from Malakim, most of the other Lamenters looked bewildered.

They were clearly unaware that this was a top-secret information accessible only to Chapter Master.

A fierce and ruthless glint flashed in their eyes.

The glory of the Ultramarines must not be tarnished, and the sacred Gene-Father must not be tainted in the slightest.

Such earth-shattering secrets must be sealed away forever within the Ultramarines and must never be leaked!

"Alright, alright, it's no big deal."

Guilliman waved his hand dismissively. "So what if you once thought about starting your own business? If I hadn't been truly desperate, I would have rebelled long ago."

Malakim felt like crying, but no tears came.

You really are my uncle!

How dare you utter such treasonous words? Do you think I'll even leave the Macragge's Honour alive today?

Those two Ultramarines looked like they were about to skin me alive!

"Alright, I'll stop teasing you guys."

Guilliman chuckled and patted everyone's hands. "This isn't exactly a top secret. Most of the Chapter that are related to the three of us by blood know about it."

His tone carried a hint of disdain. "It's just those Dark Angels, always hiding things, going around in secrets, not allowing this to be mentioned, not being able to say that. Isn't life tiring?"

As he spoke, the Primarch casually raised his head, glanced at the ceiling light, and gave a playful smile.

In a dark corner of the pipes at the top of the banquet hall, a figure trembled suddenly, and the Primarch's sword on its back emitted a faint hum.

The man silently gripped his two pistols, instinctively shrinking his body into a darker corner, trying to completely hide himself in the shadows.

Cypher was inwardly terrified: Something was wrong! He had just arrived here through Warp portal, how could the Ultramarines leader have detected his presence? Guilliman from ten thousand years ago was clearly a Psionic Energy Muggle!

Impossible! He absolutely didn't discover me! I've been hidden so well that no one has ever noticed me in ten thousand years!

Cypher repeatedly affirmed this in his heart, but his body honestly shrank further into the shadows...