Total Fusion!

Smart Atoms perfectly adapted to and enhanced Primarch Guilliman's body, granting him terrifying physical qualities that surpassed even the Viltrumites.

His defense, cellular control, and regenerative abilities in particular had reached an utterly inconceivable level.

"Clang—!"

Roboute Guilliman suddenly rose to his feet!

The heavy Fate Armor fit perfectly over his body, now enlarged by a full size, ringing with metallic resonance.

His already towering frame, bolstered by both the fusion and the armor, stood as majestic as a mountain.

His height had directly surpassed four meters. Simply standing there, he radiated a suffocating pressure.

The entire clamorous battlefield seemed to have been muted.

Whether Loyal Astartes or crazed Chaos traitors, all were involuntarily drawn to this giant who had awakened from ten thousand years of slumber.

Under the rapid transformation of the Smart Atoms, Guilliman's physical features had also undergone subtle changes.

The typical traits of Viltrumites were black hair and black eyes.

At that moment, the Primarch's powerful golden bloodline collided and merged with Vitruum's dark bloodline, eventually achieving perfect balance.

His golden hair had turned a deep black, while his iconic sky-blue eyes, like the skies of Macragge, remained unchanged.

Yet they no longer held the tranquil stillness of sleep, but instead shone with the brilliance and strength of a galaxy.

His face, once slightly pale and stiff after ten thousand years of immobility, was now overflowing with vigorous vitality.

The Smart Atoms had swept away every trace of subtle injury and weariness caused by his long slumber and old wounds.

Guilliman lowered his head, his gaze falling upon the still-stunned Yvraine. A hearty, powerful smile curved across his lips.

"For now, I no longer need your help, envoy of the Eldar.

"I have defeated death through my own strength and truly returned."

His voice was sonorous and brimming with confidence. "And I promise you, I will never again be shrouded by death!"

He paused, and his tone grew more sincere. "Thank you, xenos friend.

"Though this may have merely been a transaction between my father and your Laughing God, I am still grateful that you came and tried to save me."

Then he looked toward the silent Archmagos beside him. His enormous hand lightly brushed the shoulder plate of Fate Armor. "Thank you, Cawl.

"Thank you for remembering our agreement from ten thousand years ago.

"I like this Fate very much."

Belisarius Cawl's mechanical throat emitted a hum that mingled excitement with profound relief. "To serve you is my greatest honor, my lord Primarch."

Guilliman nodded, then cast a calm yet majestic gaze across the chaotic sanctuary.

Only then did the Chaos Space Marines recover from their overwhelming shock. A Primarch!

A living figure from the myths and legends of ten thousand years ago!

He stood right before them!

Fear and madness intertwined within their hearts.

At last, a berserker completely consumed by Khorne's curse stepped forward. The chainaxe in his hand trembled madly with extreme excitement.

To challenge a resurrected demigod Primarch!

What glory! What a feat that would please the Blood God!

"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!!"

He unleashed a heart-rending roar and charged at Guilliman like a beast gone out of control.

Guilliman merely stood where he was, even stopping the Ultramarines around him from stepping forward with a glance.

He calmly watched the berserker charge, watched the roaring chainaxe slash fiercely toward his head—

Then he raised his Fate Armor-clad right hand and, with casual ease, caught the raging chainaxe that could tear through Leman Russ tank armor!

The rapidly spinning teeth shrieked as they scraped against his armor and palm, scattering sparks everywhere, yet they could not advance even an inch!

"You pathetic traitor. The filthy blood of my treacherous brother flows through your veins."

Guilliman's voice was like an icy wind sweeping through every traitor's heart. "Today, I will carry out the purification delayed by ten thousand years!"

His other hand shot out like lightning and pressed down upon the Chaos Space Marine's helmet.

The hardened ceramite helmet deformed and shattered as easily as clay beneath his terrifying strength!

Then—

"Boom!"

With a dull blast, the Chaos Space Marine's head and helmet exploded completely, like a watermelon smashed by a warhammer!

The headless corpse swayed before crashing heavily to the ground.

Guilliman flicked his hand, shaking off the filth that had stained it.

He straightened his body, and his solemn, thunderous voice echoed throughout the sanctuary, carrying even to the battlefield outside.

"I, Roboute Guilliman, Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, King of Macragge! Hereby declare that I have awakened once more and returned!"

At last, his gaze settled upon all the battle-worn Ultramarines, gentle yet powerful. In those azure eyes lay the affection and resolve of a father.

He smiled, his voice reaching every corner.

"You have worked hard, my children."

"Now, it is time for your gene-father, who has slumbered for ten thousand years, to fulfill his duty!"

The Primarch left the throne that had imprisoned him for ten thousand years and slowly descended the towering steps.

Every step he took was steady as a mountain, yet carried the force of rolling thunder, as though a war god from ancient myth had finally entered the mortal battlefield that belonged to him.

He used no weapon. His pair of iron fists, covered by Fate Armor, became the most efficient tools of slaughter.

Wherever he passed, Black Legion warriors fell like wheat stalks swept by a hurricane.

Whether Chaos Lords clad in heavy Terminator armor or berserkers roaring Khorne's hymns, all were utterly fragile before the Primarch's fists.

A casual blow carried more power than a direct bolter shot.

It blasted traitors and armor alike into flying fragments of metal and flesh, painting brutal murals across the sanctuary floor.

At that moment, Chapter Master Calgar was trapped within an encirclement of the Black Legion, fighting desperately.

His strength had long been pushed beyond its limits.

Since the Chaos invasion began, he had personally slain more than twenty Chaos Space Marines through sheer willpower and superb martial skill!

These were no mere grunts, but the finest troops directly under Warmaster Abaddon.

Among them were even veteran warriors who had survived since the era of the Great Heresy, their bodies deeply twisted by the Warp.

For Calgar to have come this far was already a miracle.

But he had paid a terrible price. His power armor was damaged in many places, and blood constantly seeped from the cracks.