Setting Out

Guilliman decided to set off, but his thoughts moved at a speed far exceeding the speed of light.

Heading to Terra to purge the demons is the first priority, but what comes next?

His return to the heart of the Imperium was not merely to act as a super firefighter.

The transfer of power, the restoration of order, the elimination of long-standing problems... these are urgent matters, and some of the "dirty work"...

It needed to be arranged in advance, and it was inconvenient for him, the soon-to-be Lord Regent, to handle it personally.

He walked to the hatch and instructed Calgar, who was standing outside and whose face was still somewhat darkened from the previous incident of the "Xenos harassing the Primarch," as follows:

"Go and fetch Huron. Immediately."

Soon, heavy, rhythmic footsteps approached.

A figure, much taller and more imposing than a typical Ultramarines, clad in a dark blue and silver-gray Power Armour, appeared before Guilliman like a moving hill.

He knelt on one knee, the armor striking the ground with a dull thud.

"Father!"

The voice came through the helmet, excited and loud.

This is none other than Huron Blackheart —or, more accurately, Huron who has returned to the Imperium and undergone Guilliman's new generation of genetic enhancements.

Now, he possesses even more powerful Primarch genetic material flowing through his body, granting him basic yet terrifying abilities such as short-range void flight and pure strength at the thousand-ton level.

Guilliman placed his hands on Huron's sturdy shoulder armor and patted it gently, like a craftsman inspecting a work he was satisfied with:

"Hmm, it seems the transformation was a success; he's much stronger now."

"It's all thanks to the divine power bestowed upon me by my father!"

Huron looked up, and even through the mask, one could feel the intensity in his gaze.

"I feel stronger than ever before! Give me a mission, Father! I yearn to prove my loyalty and worth once again to the Imperium and to you!"

"Of course there's a mission, my child."

Guilliman's voice was gentle, yet carried an undeniable authority. "And I'm about to entrust you with a crucial task."

He leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice to make sure only Huron could hear him clearly:

"I will head to Terra first. After all, one's personal energy is limited."

The esteemed members of the High Lords of Terra are an indispensable core of the Imperium's rule; their safety must be guaranteed without fail.

Huron's eyes flickered behind the helmet.

Guilliman continued, "You, lead your ten thousand most elite new-generation Ultramarines, forming a special guard, to the High Lords ' sanctuary, the Tower of Eternal Loyalty."

Remember, everyone must be fully armed, equipped with the most advanced reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance equipment, and... all the tools needed for 'environmental cleanup'. Do you understand what I mean?

Huron Blackheart lips slowly parted into a cold, knowing smile beneath his helmet.

He nodded emphatically. "I understand completely, Father. I swear on my life that I will never allow any 'potential threat' to disturb your esteemed elders."

"Very good." Guilliman nodded approvingly, then added seemingly casually, "Oh, by the way. Apart from the ten thousand you took, all the remaining Ultramarines in the fleet will be deployed to the recapture of Terra."

In this way, those "former rebels" on board who had not yet completed their ideological reformation and were still somewhat unstable were temporarily left unattended. Leaving them in the mobile fortress was not safe at all...

He paused meaningfully, then patted Huron on the shoulder again:

"You are responsible for 'escorting' them. Make sure they are 'properly settled,' and absolutely do not allow these unstable elements to have any chance to 'approach' or 'disturb' the High Lords we are protecting. Understand?"

A cruel yet excited glint flashed in Huron's eyes. He understood completely.

This is not exile, nor is it suspicion; this is trust, entrusting a trusted confidant with a responsibility!

His father not only gave him military power, but also clearly arranged the "legitimate reasons" and "targets" for taking action!

Father, I love you dearly!

"Yes, Father! Now that you have spoken, your wish will surely come true!"

Huron's reply was forceful, filled with twisted loyalty and the glee of impending violence.

Ten thousand extraordinary warriors, enhanced twice and capable of taking on a thousand men each?

He couldn't imagine any possibility of failure.

"Great! Very energetic!"

Guilliman smiled, his gaze falling on the slightly worn, wildly styled power claw "Citybreaker" on the right arm of the Huron Power Armour.

That was his signature weapon from his past as the "Tyrant of Badab".

"Go for it, go ahead and do it. You power claw..."

Guilliman shook his head slightly. "Now it seems that you are indeed somewhat unworthy of your current strength and the responsibilities you will shoulder."

"Once Terra is settled, I'll personally forge you a brand new one."

Upon hearing this, Huron was so excited he almost trembled.

Weapons forged by the Primarch himself!

In the entire Ultramarines Legion, only Chapter Master Calgar's "Loyalist's Glory" and Chief Swordsman Sicarius's sword currently enjoy such an honor!

That is not only supreme glory, but also an unparalleled divine weapon containing the power of the Primarch's blood and Psionic Energy blessings!

He could almost see a gigantic, indestructible claw, shimmering with blue-gold light, covering his hand.

At the same time, Calgar and Sicarius, who had been standing by, instinctively gripped the swords at their waists.

The two exchanged a quick glance, and a silent tension and competitive spark filled the air.

Sicarius (eyes): Traitor! You dare to receive a weapon forged by my father's own hand?! I am clearly my father's sharpest sword!

Calgar (eyes): Calm... but indeed. This glory... he can't enjoy it all by himself! I am still my father's most beloved son!

Oh my god, I also need to tell those greenhorns under my command that I spent three days alone with my father, and that my father can make braised pork with vermicelli for me!

The two secretly resolved that they must cut off more and more powerful demon heads on the battlefield of Terra to defend their status as "the father's most beloved children".

Everything is arranged.

"Alright, kids."

Guilliman stretched, his bones cracking softly. "I look forward to our victorious reunion on Terra in nine hours!"

An attendant stepped forward and draped a heavy cloak over his shoulders.

This cloak is no ordinary item; its material comes from the tough hide of Skarbrand, one of the most famous Greater Daemon under Khorne's command.

Dark gold blasphemous patterns remain on the deep red background.

A hideous, twisted demonic face was deliberately preserved and later added to Guilliman's right shoulder armor; the empty eye sockets seemed to still burn with resentful rage.

As for the Ultramarines whose demon head was stolen, Guilliman gave him other compensation.

He cut off the Greater Daemon's penis.

How can the smaller head not be considered part of the head?

The Ultramarines clearly preferred the gift, since his father had cut it himself, and he usually hung the Kunkun on his armor as a decoration.

The scarlet cloak contrasted sharply with his blue and gold "Armor of Destiny".

Far from appearing out of place, it added to his boundless majesty and an aura of dominance, as if he had conquered the most formidable enemy.

Guilliman stood still, facing the bulkhead. He didn't go toward the airlock, nor did he need any aircraft.

He slowly raised his right hand, his five fingers spread, pointing towards the void.

The purest and most potent qi and blood energy, combined with the mastery of the laws of physics, coalesced once more.

Before his palm, space began to wail and distort, the structure of reality like a fragile piece of cloth being torn apart to both sides by an irresistible force!

A rift, its edges burning with blue-gold energy flames, its interior dark and deep, and filled with Warp light spots, was forcibly created!

Across the rift, faint sounds of roars, explosions, and blasphemous howls echoed from the Terra battlefield, along with the familiar, sorrowful atmosphere of the human capital.

Guilliman turned back, gave his loyal offspring a final nod, and then, without hesitation, stepped into the rift that tore through reality!

His cloak fluttered behind him, crimson as blood, yet symbolizing the demon's defeat.

He was going to Terra.

He was going to bring down those traitors and demons who dared to desecrate humanity's home—

Twist off their heads, one by one!