Self-Brainwashing

Guilliman didn't know was that in the eyes of Calgar, Sicarius, and many new and old Ultramarines, he, the Gene-Father, already possessed a divine aura and infinite space for interpretation.

They knew that their father sometimes acted erratically and spoke "unconventionally" (such as discussing a certain part of Bloodthirster in public), but this did not diminish his greatness and "holiness" in the slightest!

In fact, this "contrast" makes it even more "unfathomable" and "uniquely charming".

During routine training, if Guilliman got into a good mood, he might punch Calgar into the training wall, then walk over to check on him, dust him off, and ask, "How's that?"

In the mental theater of Calgar and others, this was automatically edited into. "My father gave me a loving and tempering blow!"

He then personally helped me up, brushed the dust off me, and gazed at me with his eyes, as deep as the ocean of Ultramar, filled with expectation and care, encouraging me to move forward!

Through such repeated self-manipulation (PUA), their admiration for Guilliman has already reached an unshakeable peak, filtered through multiple layers of "understanding."

All the Ultramarines: But I feel that my father's words and actions are sacred!

Gayman: I am holy to you, Thunder!

Seeing that Calgar was indeed unharmed, Guilliman didn't bother to think too much about it and casually waved his hand downwards in response.

As a father, he believed in his son's resilience!

Especially Calgar's eldest son! He's absolutely the ultimate punching bag; he can get back up after taking so many punches from him.

Calgar is the only one left in the entire Ultramarines!

Luna Wolves has an insanely high Abaddon!

I, the Ultramarines, am no weakling either; I too possess the immortal body of Calgar!

Guilliman once again transformed into a blue meteor, hurtling towards a distant lair where demon lords gathered, leaving the even more roused Calgar to continue the fight.

Calgar continued to wield his fists and sword, expanding his gains at the edge of the "safe zone" cleared by Guilliman.

Each strike of the Loyalist's Glory is accompanied by the demon's wails and disintegration.

Just as he cleaved a Flamer of Tzeentch in two—

Call--!!!

A terrifying, suffocating gust of wind, born purely for destruction, swept in from the side without warning!

That was not an energy surge, but a physical storm caused by the extreme combination of mass and speed!

Calgar's fighting instincts surged to their limit in an instant. In a fraction of a second, he forcibly twisted his body, holding "Loyalist's Glory" horizontally with both hands to his sides!

Clang!!!!!!!!!!

An unprecedentedly loud noise!

It looked like two warships colliding at full speed!

Calgar felt as if he had been hit head-on by a crashing asteroid.

The power emanating from the sword was savage, violent, and boundless. The Smart Atoms flickered wildly, trying to disperse the impact, but still could not completely neutralize it.

He was lifted off the ground, like a stone thrown by a giant, and tumbled in the air more than a dozen times before he could barely adjust his posture.

It crashed heavily to the ground, rolled dozens of meters, and carved a deep furrow before finally stopping its retreat.

He knelt on one knee, supporting his body with his longsword. His breath beneath his helmet was hot, and he felt waves of discomfort emanating from his internal organs.

"This power... is it at the Primarch level?"

After assessing the situation, Calgar slowly raised his head, his cold goggles locking onto the direction from which the attack was coming.

The dust gradually settled.

A figure stood there.

A heavy, brass-colored armor covered with spikes and rough rivets encased a body as red as a branding iron, with exaggeratedly bulging muscles.

A pair of tattered yet enormous fleshy wings, covered in what appeared to be leather and keratin, slowly flapped behind him, stirring up gusts of hot wind mixed with the smell of sulfur and blood.

He held in his hand a massive, awe-inspiring double-edged battle axe, the bloodstains on the blade seemingly congealed into a black glaze.

He was not wearing a helmet, revealing his hideously twisted face with bulging veins and eternal rage, as well as the iconic Butcher's Nail interface on his head, which was implanted in his skull.

With such distinctive features, combined with the legends within the Chapter, Calgar was absolutely certain that the person before him was a Primarch!

Angron.

The World Eaters Primarch, Khorne's Daemon Prince.

His bloodshot eyes were fixed on Calgar, and he said nothing, only a low growl emanating from deep in his throat, like the rumble of thunder before a storm.

The killing intent and destructive desire contained in that roar were almost tangible, making the surrounding air thick and scorching.

He was very angry, extremely angry.

He only wanted a sliver of peace, and before he could even stay in that sanctuary for long, the Four Gods threw him directly onto the battlefield of Terra.

I have nowhere to vent my anger!

Angron felt the Butcher's Nails on his head starting to hurt again.

Even if he were to transform into Psionic Energy body, the Butcher's Nails, specially blessed by Khorne, could still churn his brain into a tangled mess!

This left him with no choice but to relieve his pain through killing.

Angron moved again.

No warnings, no battle cries, just a simple, direct, and extremely violent charge!

The earth groaned and shattered beneath his feet, moving with the speed of a crimson lightning bolt flying close to the ground.

In an instant, it covered hundreds of meters, and the giant axe, with the force of splitting the heavens and earth, slashed down once more at Calgar, who had just stood up!

This time, it came crashing down on us!

"Truly worthy of being the Primarch, maintaining such terrifying combat power!"

"But as my father's most beloved son, I am not afraid!!"

Calgar's pupils contracted, but he showed no fear whatsoever.

On the Macragge's Honour, he had engaged in several "friendly" Psionic Energy combat training sessions with another "involuntary" visiting professor— Magnus, the Primarch of the Thousand Sons.

As it turns out, if handled properly, he can withstand even Primarch- level Psionic Energy bombardment for a considerable period of time.

This greatly honed his mind and resilience.

This also allowed him to fully understand his current strength. In a life-or-death struggle, he could at least exchange hundreds or thousands of blows with a Primarch!

It's important to understand that even a member of the Adeptus Custodes is incredibly vulnerable when facing Daemon Primarch; they can't withstand more than ten or twenty moves before being obliterated.

Therefore, Calgar's current fighting strength is equivalent to that of a dozen or twenty Adeptus Custodes!

"Angron ..."

Calgar murmured the name, his tone calm.

He no longer felt a chill run down his spine at the mere mention of the Daemon Primarch's name, as he had in the past.

He has witnessed broader powers and followed greater beings.

Faced with this unstoppable axe blow, Calgar did not choose to take it head-on.