No Way?

After the banquet ended, Guilliman turned and left with his guards, and the huge banquet hall quickly fell silent.

Whether it was due to a momentary oversight by the logistics soldiers or for some other reason, a small oversight occurred during the corps' logistics preparations.

On one corner of the long table, a bowl of steaming hot Spicy Blood Curd (a spicy Sichuan dish) sat forlornly, untouched by the light.

In the shadows of the rafters, Cypher concealed his presence, his gaze fixed on the bowl of food below, a cold, utterly contemptuous smirk playing on his lips.

That's a cheap and clumsy tactic.

Was it really just a deliberate act of leaving him a bowl of Spicy Blood Curd to distract him and lure him out?

He's Cypher!

The Dark Angels, personally appointed by Lion El'Jonson ten thousand years ago, are the pinnacle of skill and stealth in the entire Dark Angels Legion!

The Primarch the Primarch, rumored to be known for his Ultramarines rationality, would resort to such underhanded tactics was utterly despicable to him.

But the thought had barely formed in his mind when Cypher suddenly wondered: Why would Robert Guilliman resort to such methods?

That's impossible.

With that Primarch's overwhelming power, if he truly wanted to deal with him, why would he need to resort to such roundabout methods?

Moreover, the Ultramarines Lord who rules Ultramar and stands by order and honor should not deign to do such a thing.

This method is far too crude. Even if he were to fall for it and be caught, he would only genuinely despise the other party's incompetence.

Is the other person really that shameless?

Anyone could be, but the King of Ultramar, the master of the Ultramarines, is definitely not!

The pungent and savory aroma of Spicy Blood Curd) still lingered, its fragrance permeating the air and making Cypher unconsciously swallow.

Just one bite, it should be fine, right?

Even if he were discovered, with his abilities, he could easily escape.

Even in the dungeon beneath Imperial Palace, heavily guarded by the Adeptus Custodes Guard, he was absolutely confident he could escape safely.

With the thought made up, the interlayer in the ceiling was silently lifted, and a lithe black shadow descended from the air like a cat, its movements so light as to make no sound.

The two pistols at his waist had already been securely holstered, and the Primarch sword on his back was still wrapped in layers of thick cloth, concealing its sharpness.

Cypher walked slowly to the table, his gaze falling on the bowl of Spicy Blood Curd, his eyes flickering slightly.

The bright red broth simmered with a faint glow, and the blood clots and side dishes inside were vividly colored. There seemed to be a miniature heating device at the bottom of the bowl.

It continuously emits heat, keeping the food at its warmest and most palatable temperature, and waves of rich aroma waft over, tempting the hungry.

Cypher picked up the chopsticks beside him, hesitated for a moment, and finally picked up a piece of fresh duck blood and carefully put it into his mouth.

The smooth, bouncy texture bursts with flavor between your teeth, and the spicy and savory aroma instantly sweeps over your taste buds. The rich energy slides down your throat and into your body, nourishing your long-dormant body.

He nodded slightly, feigning ignorance, but secretly thought the taste was just so-so.

But the speed at which he picked up the food with his chopsticks involuntarily became faster and faster, turning from a cautious, tentative taste into a hearty, wolfing-down meal.

They ate the entire bowl of Spicy Blood Curd a spicy Sichuan dish) until it was completely empty, even drinking the last drop of thick broth from the bottom of the bowl.

Cypher finally let out a long sigh of relief, feeling a sense of comfort permeating every pore of his body.

He carefully placed the empty bowl back in its place, his eyes filled with melancholy, and only one thought remained in his mind: the past ten thousand years have truly been wasted.

This is the kind of life humans should be living!

A moment later, Cypher quickly cleared his mind of distractions, calmly scanned his surroundings, and confirmed that there were no traps or hidden presences.

This wasn't a scheme against him at all; it might just have been a logistical oversight.

It can't be such a coincidence that someone jumps out right after he finishes eating and knocks him unconscious with a single punch, can it?

That's impossible.

He chuckled softly, then turned to crawl into the ventilation duct.

He was determined to keep a close watch on Guilliman's every move from the Macragge's Honour.

But the moment his feet touched the cold floor, a terrifying feeling from the depths of his soul suddenly swept over him. Cypher's heart tightened, and he abruptly turned his head to look.

The banquet hall doors were now wide open.

Guilliman leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a gentle yet meaningful smile on his face, his gaze fixed intently on him.

Cypher's nerves tensed up in 0.01 seconds. He didn't have time to think; his body reacted instantly, and he turned to use stealth to escape.

But before he could even get started, a large hand covered in light blue Power Armour, accompanied by a powerful gust of wind, slapped him hard across the face!

As expected of a master of Dark Angels techniques, in the face of life and death, Cypher almost instinctively twisted his body, forcefully dissipating 90% of the force.

Even so, the remaining ten percent of his power was still incredibly strong, and the immense impact instantly caused his blood and qi to surge.

Cypher felt a sense of foreboding, knowing he was completely finished. His head began to feel heavy, and his consciousness rapidly blurred like a receding tide.

His body spun uncontrollably in the air, turning 360 degrees, like a top being whipped.

He finally slammed heavily onto the hard floor and lost consciousness completely.

Ice water was splashed hard on Cypher's face, and the biting cold instantly jolted him awake from his unconsciousness.

He suddenly opened his eyes, instinctively wanting to roar, but found his mouth tightly stuffed with thick strips of cloth, only able to make muffled "hoarse" whimpers, unable to speak at all.

Once his vision cleared, Cypher was able to see the scene before him clearly. The two people standing in front of him both possessed a powerful aura that was terrifying.

On the left is Cato Sicarius, the Primarch the Ultramarines.

This former Second Company the Ultramarines is now a recognized Ultramarines swordsman, with unparalleled swordsmanship.

Standing on the right is Malum Caedo of the Solemn Guard, a master of all combat techniques of the Ultramarines, proficient in close combat, hand-to-hand combat, and tactics.

Both are now recognized as the strongest Ultramarines Legion. Even the Chapter Master, Calgar, might not be able to defeat them in a direct confrontation.

Their strength was innate, their bodies shrouded in a chilling killing intent honed by countless battles, as if they were killing machines born for combat.

Cato Sicarius and Malum Caedo exchanged a glance, their eyes reflecting the same shame, indignation, and anger.

As the Primarch's closest guards, their failure to detect the presence of such a powerful individual aboard the Macragge's Key was a blatant dereliction of duty!

With their current level of perception, even the faint flow of blood or the barely audible breathing of Warp creatures cannot escape their ears.

But this person in front of them could suppress his aura to the point of near nothingness, so much so that even their super senses could not detect it.

The Primarch's safety was threatened, which made the two feel utterly humiliated, and their anger was about to burst forth.

Cato Sicarius and picked up the instruments of torture from the rack beside him.

It was an electric shocker flashing with eerie blue arcs of electricity, its crackling current pulsating and radiating terrifying destructive power.

"Sicarius, this guy is wearing the standard attire of Dark Angels from ten thousand years ago, not the official uniform of the current Dark Angels. He's most likely a the Fallen."

Malum Caedo's voice was cold and hard as iron; he had already begun to strip Cypher of his Power Armour.

At this moment, Cypher was naked and firmly bound to a cold metal torture chair, unable to move his limbs.

Cypher's Primarch sword and dual pistols were neatly arranged on a weapon rack several meters away from him, making it impossible for him to even touch them or move them slightly.

Even if he could break free from his restraints, what awaits him is Malum Caedo, who can single-handedly defeat seven Warp Greater Daemon, and Cato Sicarius, who can single-handedly tear through Warp Rift.

Even if he were Cypher, he would only be hacked to pieces by these two working together!