The Grace of Recognition

Be a king, a regent who saved Terra, restored Ultramar, and was Lord Regent by the Emperor!

When such a solemn vow is made, and such unreserved gratitude and trust are bestowed...

No soldier with a sense of honor and courage could remain unmoved and swear allegiance to the death!

On that day, all the "Pure World Eaters"...

Regardless of how much instinctive awe or complex feelings remain in one's heart towards Angron Gene-Father.

At that moment, they all completely submitted to Guilliman and to the Imperium.

If a king has already achieved so much, and still doesn't know his place, then he should be willing to die for him.

Then they truly do not deserve to be subjects of the Emperor, do not deserve to wear this Power Armour, and do not deserve to breathe this air of freedom!

They may have inherited the "traitor" gene, so what?!

The holy Lord Guilliman, with his magnanimity and courage, has personally torn apart this label of genetic curse!

They were given the most precious opportunity to be reborn!

What we need to do next is to seize this opportunity with boundless military achievements and absolute loyalty, and never betray this trust that is as solid as a mountain and as deep as the sea!

The great Emperor Regent Guilliman has already issued his "mission"!

Witness this showdown and accept the outcome.

Then, the World Eaters will surely succeed!

Even if...

A cold and resolute thought arose almost simultaneously in the minds of the two thousand soldiers, as hard as steel.

Even if the price is... watching his Gene-Father be killed on the spot!

Yes, that's the unspoken, yet tacitly understood, underlying cost.

Although Guilliman never directly stated, "If Angron fails or continues to decline..."

You will either become my enemies or kill your own fathers.

But deep down, all the "Pure World Eaters" acknowledge and accept this possibility.

They swore allegiance to Guilliman and to the Imperium.

How can one allow a "father of traitors" whose hands are stained with the blood of loyalists and who has utterly fallen into Chaos?

To continue living in their presence, living in the new era of Imperium restoration?

That was an insult to their new oath, a betrayal of Guilliman's trust, and a desecration of all the loyalists who sacrificed their lives in the suppression of the rebellion!

If... if Guilliman, for some reason, is unwilling to kill during the fight, or Angron exhibits any uncontrollable signs of Chaos...

Then, at that moment, the "Pure World Eaters" will tear down the rules of this "performance".

They will riot!

It will charge towards the center of the field like the most ferocious beast!

Their target will no longer be the audience, but the crimson figure that gave them their bloodline, yet also brought them eternal shame!

They will not repeat the mistakes of their predecessors from ten thousand years ago.

Blindly following the corrupt Primarch, they turned their swords against their own people.

In the instant their blood splatters, they will once again swear their unquestionable loyalty, forged in blood, to Guilliman and to the Emperor!

Gods will stand in my way, I will slay them!

Father in the way... Father murder!

"Buzz... buzz... buzz..."

A low, rhythmic, bee-like sound of Chainaxe starting up began to faintly echo in the white and red area of the stands.

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chillingly resolute tone.

All the "Pure World Eaters" remained silent.

But their bodies were already leaning slightly forward, like slingshots ready to be released.

Arm muscles tensed, fingers resting on the activation buttons of weapons at the waist or on the back.

Beneath the mask, his eyes were as cold as iron.

There was no longer any tenderness towards the "father," only the soldier's fixation on the target and absolute dedication to "purification" and "loyalty."

The Ultramarines watching from the sidelines immediately sensed the sudden surge of chilling killing intent and a death-defying aura!

Many blue-armored warriors stared in astonishment at the white and red area, instinctively gripping their weapons tighter.

They could clearly sense it.

The demeanor of these "new brothers" changed instantly, as if they had transformed from somewhat distant spectators into hunters ready to engage in a deathmatch at any moment!

With just one signal, they will transform into two thousand red and white death whirlwinds, rushing towards the center of the arena!

Cato Sicarius, responsible for maintaining order and guarding the best viewing spots, felt the chilling aura emanating from the area behind him.

Instead of showing any tension, a hint of appreciation, almost pleasure, slowly curved onto his handsome face.

My father...

He thought to himself, "You truly have... selected an exceptionally outstanding group of ' War Hounds ' for the Imperium!"

No, they are even worse than War Hounds... They are 'jackals' who know how to make their own choices, dare to tear apart the past, and embrace a new life!

His gaze swept over the silent, poised figures in white and red, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

Don't worry, my father!

If, after this duel, these ' World Eaters ' truly lose their Primarch...

I, Cato Sicarius, swear in the name of Ultramar!

For the rest of my life, I will use all my power and influence to clear away all possible criticism and obstacles within the Imperium for them!

Let them, without burden, display their full bravery and loyalty to the Emperor and to you!

He seemed to have grasped Guilliman's profound strategy, and his heart was filled with pride.

This is exactly what you expected, right?

Let a gladiatorial contest bring an end to ten thousand years of sin and suffering.

Through the rebirth of a group of 'discarded pawns,' the entire Imperium is shown what true forgiveness, trust, and transformative power are!

Liberate them from the curse of their genes and transform them into the Imperium's sharpest Blade of Vengeance!

Sicarius tall, his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to deal with any unexpected situation, his heart filled with boundless pride.

As your most trusted and understanding son who best understands your grand vision, I will surely carry out your intentions and witness the beginning of this new chapter!

In this tense, deadly atmosphere, where a conflict could erupt at any moment.

A steady, powerful voice with a peculiar accent.

Like metal striking stone, a sudden sound rang out from the center of that white and red area, drowning out the deep hum of the chainsaw.

"Enough!!"

Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to it.

Among the World Eaters, one stood out as exceptionally tall and imposing, his armor painted a striking white and red.

The warrior, whose shoulder armor was additionally hand-painted with some kind of winding, dragon-like, dark gold emblem that resembled both writing and painting, slowly stood up.

He did not activate the chainsaw weapon.

Instead, he carried a huge, slightly curved power sword on his shoulder in a ceremonial manner.

His posture was like a pine tree, exuding a profound and dignified air.

"I'll wait--"

His voice, loud and clear, came through the helmet's megaphone, echoing in the suddenly silent arena.

"They are all children of Holy Terra! Loyal warriors under the command of the great Lord Regent Guilliman!"