Cutting His Throat in Atonement!

"Cough...!"

Angron lay amidst the rubble, feeling a sharp pain in his chest; at least three ribs had been broken instantly by the incredible impact!

Even with the Primarch's extraordinary regenerative abilities, the stinging pain from the fracture and the tingling sensation during healing were still incredibly clear.

But what alarmed him even more was the pure and domineering power contained within that sword strike!

Guilliman didn't even use any special abilities; he achieved such a terrifying effect with just the most basic physical attacks.

Once again, he felt with unparalleled clarity the unfathomable gap in strength between himself and his brother.

He waited, panting, preparing for the ensuing, relentless barrage of attacks.

However, the attack did not occur.

The dust settled slowly, and visibility improved.

Angron noticed that Guilliman did not pursue them.

He remained standing, in the same stance after thrusting his sword, slowly sheathing it. His face showed no triumph, but rather... disappointment?

"What are you waiting for, brother?"

"Wait until I kill you?"

"If I wanted to kill someone, I would have done it long ago. Why wait until now? Why go through all this trouble!"

Guilliman's voice rang out again, calmer than before, yet carrying a power that penetrated the heart.

"You, the 'hero,' you, the 'rebel'... do you really think this is just a 'duel arena' for entertainment, where a winner is determined and the game ends?"

He carried his sword and began to walk slowly and steadily toward the direction where Angron had fallen.

Each step he took was steady and powerful, the sand beneath his feet making a dull thud and raising fine dust.

"I have... displayed the arrogance, ruthlessness, and overbearing attitude befitting a 'slave owner'."

Guilliman's voice, like a pronouncement, was clearly audible in the gradually quieting arena.

"I stand right here, on this stage that I built, a symbol of 'order' and 'oppression,' waiting for you to overthrow it!"

His gaze swept over the Ultramarines around him, over the group of white and red-painted "Pure World Eaters," and finally returned to Angron. His words struck like a heavy hammer, each syllable hitting the heart of every person.

"I enslave your offspring! I awaken them from the dust of history, yet brand them with my mark, making them fight for me! I enslave the entire Imperium! I replace decay with my will, bind billions of lives with my laws, and incorporate them into my blueprint for a 'bright future,' whether they like it or not!"

Guilliman's voice grew louder and louder, filled with inflammatory rhetoric and a kind of brutal self-revelation.

"I am the greatest 'tyrant' in the world! The most successful 'slave owner'!"

I possess power, authority, and the ability to change everything, but I also possess the desire to bind everything!

What I've built is nothing more than another, more efficient, and more 'rational' cage!

He stopped ten paces away from Angron, the tip of his sword pointing at him again, his tone becoming incredibly sharp, like a final ultimatum.

"Come on! Kill me! Right here! With the axe in your hand! If you do it—!"

Guilliman opened his arms as if embracing the entire arena, embracing the invisible Destiny.

"These 'offspring' you see will immediately gain true freedom! They can inherit the glory of the ' World Eaters ' and decide their own future!"

This Imperium, having lost me as its 'supreme slave owner,' will fall into temporary chaos, and perhaps... a new, freer order will be born?!

Who knows?!

He looked down at Angron lying in the ruins, his voice like an ice pick piercing the latter's numb soul.

"Isn't this exactly what you wanted?! An opportunity to rebel against slave owners, break free of shackles, and fight for freedom?!"

A chance to fight for a different ending, for yourself and for everything you love?!

Are you going to keep lying there like a lump of mud, defeated by Destiny and yourself?!

Like those hopeless gladiator corpses abandoned on the Nuceria sands in your memory?!

Guilliman's roar was like a storm, sweeping across the entire arena.

"Angron! The Twelfth Primarch! The former God of Emotion and Strife! Rise up—!!!"

The final shout seemed to carry a tangible shockwave, causing the rubble beneath Angron to tremble slightly.

Guilliman said nothing more, but continued to approach step by step at that unsettlingly steady pace, sword in hand.

He gave Angron ample time to react, as if to say: I am right here, with all your hatred and despair, come on.

The "ordinary" Roman short sword in his hand was forged from refined steel, without any enchantments or energy field.

At this moment, it seemed even sharper than the legendary "Emperor's Sword," which was said to be wielded by Emperor and burned with the fire of the universe!

Even more magnificent!

Because what it carries is not simply the power of destruction, but a kind of interpretation and challenge of "roles" and "Destiny" that is close to "Tao"!

Above the stands, in that white and red painted area, there was a deathly silence.

All the "Pure World Eaters" held their breath.

Two thousand pairs of eyes stared intently at the center of the arena, not blinking.

They stared at the crimson figure lying in the ruins, a symbol of the origin of their bloodline.

Their hearts felt as if they were being gripped by an invisible hand, and the speed at which their blood flowed increased.

They knew that the figure was their Gene-Father, Angron.

A traitor who had long since fallen, whose hands were stained with the blood of his Primarch people and Primarchs, and who ultimately sided with Khorne.

They also knew that not long ago, it was Lord Regent Guilliman who had awakened them from the secret laboratory and given them new bodies and missions.

A solemn promise was made to them.

If their Gene-Father, Angron, could defeat the Lord Regent in this duel.

Even if it's just by luck that I win by a single move or two.

Then, all the "Pure World Eaters" present will be allowed to formally reorganize.

Inheriting the name and history of the "World Eaters" from ten thousand years ago, fight for the Emperor and for the future of the Imperium!

They need not hide, nor bear the shadow of being "experimental subjects" or "unreliable genes." They will fight with dignity for redemption and loyalty!

Guilliman assured them, in his capacity and honor as Lord Regent:

If any of them rebel again in the future!

That was not only a betrayal of the Imperium, but also an insult to the trust and honor that Robert Guilliman had given him at that moment.

At that time, Guilliman will commit suicide to atone for the Imperium!