The Ninth Prince Had No Choice!
!
The Adeptus Custodes ' pupils suddenly contracted!
Horus!!! I will kill Horus!!!
His body felt like it was about to explode in the next moment.
His fighting instincts kicked in instantly, his adrenaline surged, and his right hand reached for the hilt of the Power Sword at his waist in a fraction of a second!
The next second, he was about to plunge the Power Sword in his hand into the body of the person in front of him!
Within 0.1 milliseconds --
He regained control of his body movements!
Damn it!
I almost thought the person in front of me was a heretic!
The Adeptus Custodes's heart pounded, his breathing became slightly erratic, and a fine layer of cold sweat even seeped from his back—for the Adeptus Custodes Guard, this was an unprecedented loss of composure!
He took a deep breath, frantically trying to calm himself down:
Even if the person in front of me has a heretical way of thinking, he is absolutely orthodox!
The Lord Regent, appointed by the Emperor himself!
Lord of Ultramar!
The sole heir to the Imperium of Man!
He's always right!
Even if he calls the Emperor an idiot, it must mean that the Emperor does have some questionable aspects!
The expression beneath the Adeptus Custodes guard's mask returned to calm.
He looked at the golden cream puff in his hand, then at Guilliman's smiling face, and said in the most sincere, genuine, and heartfelt tone:
"What a great name!"
As expected of the thirteenth prince!
This name evokes the grandeur of ten thousand years ago, ancient culture, and profound reflections on the current state of the Imperium!
Guilliman's eyes lit up!
"Right? Right?!" He was as happy as a child being praised. "I also think this name is very good!"
It's almost as good a name as ' Sanguinius Sauce '!
Adeptus Custodes: "..."
You deserve to die.
He thought to himself, "If it weren't for the fact that the Ninth Prince Lord Sanguinius no match for you, you'd be finished if he didn't beat you up."
Originally, Lord Sanguinius Primarch, who would fight anyone he didn't like. Ten thousand years ago, he chased after the Greater Daemon with his greatsword, killing so many that the entire Warp trembled in fear.
And now?
You woke me up with those two big slaps.
This is true.
Ever since Sanguinius Sauce was obeyed by the Blood Angels.
This top-quality delicacy, which was cheap to make, rich in protein, had boundless power, and was even rumored by the people of the Imperium to be an aphrodisiac, became popular throughout the entire Imperium.
"Eating Sanguinius Sauce gives you even more power in battle!"
"An angel's blessing, a man's choice!"
"One jar of holy sauce, and the whole family will be healthy and well!"
Various advertising slogans emerged one after another, coupled with the heroic promotional images of the Blood Angels warriors, making it practically the Imperium's newly emerging national food.
The Ultramarines didn't hesitate to ramp up production—after all, this was a product named after their great Gene-Father!
Produce!
Real estate development at all costs!
Ideally, every citizen of the Imperium should be able to enjoy the most perfect Sanguinius Sauce!
May all mankind be bathed in the blessings of Lord Sanguinius!
Sanguinius himself:...
That day, the angel, carrying an incredibly cool Psionic Energy sword, stormed into Guilliman's office, leaving a trail of sparks and lightning.
"Guilliman --!!!"
Sanguinius ' roar shook the entire Imperial Palace. "Explain to me, what exactly is ' Sanguinius Sauce '?"
What does it mean to be 'rich in protein'?
What does it mean to 'enhance male potency'?
"I'm your brother! Not food! Not an aphrodisiac!!!"
Guilliman was sitting behind his desk, leisurely reviewing piles of government documents.
Hearing Sanguinius ' roar, he raised his head, a guileless smile on his face:
"Hey bro, you're here?"
Would you like to try a can?
It's newly released and tastes especially good.
"I'll taste your big head!!!"
With a swing of his greatsword, Sanguinius' golden blade shot straight for Guilliman's head!
The next second--
The angel has flown away.
That's right, he was slapped away by the Lord Regent.
Sanguinius never imagined that he, as the only Primarch who could fly ten thousand years ago, would one day be the one to be blown away.
His body traced a perfect parabola in the air, crashing through three walls of the office before finally getting stuck in the fourth wall, forming a "T" shape.
Guilliman stopped, dusted off non-existent dust, and shook his head:
"Brother, you need to change your temper."
We are all gods now; we must be elegant, composed, and learn to solve problems rationally.
Sanguinius pulled himself out of the wall, his golden wings askew, his face filled with disbelief.
It was on that day that the angels truly understood what it meant to be the God of Matter.
He had previously endured the Emperor's Psionic Energy attacks, and the intense experience taught him what it meant to be "the Master of Mankind is not to be trifled with."
But now, he's been hit by Guilliman's massive Material Universe, and the feeling is even more intense!
That wasn't a Psionic Energy shock, nor an energy burst; it was as if the entire Material Universe itself had slapped you in the face!
You can feel every atom vibrating, every molecule resonating, and every law of physics saying, "You deserve to be punished."
Sanguinius felt that his life was complete.
He has already experienced both the Psionic Energy and materialistic forms of being "extracted," thus accumulating both supreme experiences of being "extracted."
If he gets hit by Chaos's Great Slaughter again, he'll be able to summon the dragon.
Of course, these memories only flashed through the Adeptus Custodes ' minds for a mere 0.1 seconds.
He remained standing in the same spot, holding the golden Horus Puff in his hands, his expression beneath the mask utterly loyal.
"Lord Regent Highness," the Adeptus Custodes asked cautiously, "Does this Horus Puff ... have any special meaning?"
Guilliman's smile deepened.
Of course.
He said, standing with his hands behind his back, gazing up at the golden dome at the end of the corridor, his voice resonant:
"Horus —my dearest brother from ten thousand years ago, the glory of the Imperium, the crown of the Warmaster, the ultimate traitor who fell, the Emperor's deepest wound."
He paused.
"And this cream puff..." He pointed to the small golden doll in the Adeptus Custodes's hand, "
The golden, crispy crust symbolizes Horus's former glory and splendor; the soft, sweet filling symbolizes his gentle side before his fall; one bite, and the crust crumbles, releasing a burst of cream—what does this symbolize?
The Adeptus Custodes swallowed hard. "It symbolizes... his ultimate betrayal and the Imperium's wounds?"
"Bingo!"
Guilliman snapped his fingers. "So, eating Horus Puff is like savoring the history of the Imperium, like reflecting on the lessons of the rebellion."
This is a reminder that the line between glory and depravity is often just a thought away!
"Of course, the most important thing is that it's the same as what your Adeptus Custodes recorded."
In the final battle with our father, my brother Horus was turned into a cream puff by the four gods using their Psionic Energy power!
Hahahaha!
If he could live again, I would laugh him to death!
Adeptus Custodes: "..."
You're really good at talking nonsense.
Is this Thirteenth Prince truly loyal? He seems more heretical than any heretic!
But he dared not say it.
He could only nod vigorously, his face filled with a look of sudden realization and reverence:
"I see!
The Lord Regent!
This name is so meaningful!
Guilliman nodded in satisfaction, then took a Horus Puff from the box and took a bite himself.
The golden, flaky crust crumbled, and the snow-white cream spilled out, staining the corners of his mouth.
He squinted his eyes contentedly:
"Mmm, delicious."
"We'll have Cawl mass-produce them later as standard rations for Imperium recruits."
The Adeptus Custodes silently lit a candle in their hearts for the new Imperium recruits who would one day fight alongside the Ninth Prince.