The Eternal Lord's Blessing!

Titus's body fell forward and hit the ground heavily.

Golden blood gushes out from his wounds and gathers into a pool under his body, shining with the last glimmer in the green light.

Blade Phaeron stood there, looking down at this lifeless body.

He was silent for a long time, so long that the Necron Warriors around him did not dare to make any sound.

"Prepare Stasis Field," he finally said, his voice as calm as describing the weather, "I want to keep this human body.

I can always reflect on it in my endless life."

A Necron Overlord stepped forward, holding a glowing Stasis Field generator in his hand.

That stance can completely freeze time, allowing this body to remain as it is at this moment forever.

The Overlord pointed the generator at Titus's body, and the green light began to condense.

Titus's consciousness is floating in the darkness.

That darkness is not ordinary darkness, but the unique and bizarre Chaos of Warp.

Countless colors swirled around him, countless voices Whisper in his ears, and countless beings peered around him.

But none of those beings dared to approach him.

Because he exudes a kind of light, which is blue and golden, and is the unique color of the Thirteenth Legion.

He began to chant.

That is a prayer that every Ultramarines knows, it was compiled by Guilliman himself, and it is recited by the Thirteenth Legion before, during, and after the battle.

Every word of that prayer is engraved in his genes.

"My father Guilliman, King of Macragge, Lord of Ultramar, Lord of War, Lord of Eternity..."

His voice echoed in Warp, and the light became brighter and brighter.

The surrounding Chaos beings retreated one after another, those Whisper sounds disappeared, those prying eyes dissipated, and those distorted colors solidified.

Then, he saw a light.

That was not the light of Warp, nor the light of Chaos, but a pure, warm, sunlight-like light.

In that light, there was a figure.

The figure was huge and majestic, like a mountain.

He was wearing blue Power Armour, with golden eagle wings spread out on his shoulders, and in his hand he held a giant sword burning with golden flames.

His face was majestic and kind, like a king who reigned over the world, and like a father who watched the wanderers return home.

That's the Warp entity of Guilliman.

That's Son of War, the king of Macragge, Lord of Ultramar.

It is a huge entity formed by the convergence of countless beliefs. It is the embodiment of the soul essence of the Thirteenth Legion and the projection of Law of Eternity in Warp.

Guilliman looked down at Titus, his golden eyes full of pride.

His voice was like the bells of heaven, echoing in the Warp, driving away all the Chaos around him.

"My dear son," he said, with a kind of fatherly love in his voice, "you are my best warrior.

I see your loyalty, your bravery, and your sacrifice."

Titus knelt in the light, looking up to his father.

His eyes were moist. Although he no longer had a body, the tears were from his soul and were real.

"My father," his voice trembled, "I have let you down."

Guilliman shook his head, his movements full of tenderness. "You did not disappoint me.

You never let me down."

He stretched out his hand, which was huge and warm, holding Titus's soul in his palm.

His voice was like a lullaby, making Titus feel peaceful like never before.

"My son, continue to fight for me, continue to fight for mankind.

I answer your prayers all the time and I am thinking of you all the time."

Titus's soul surged with an unprecedented power.

That is the blessing of Guilliman, the purest form of Law of Eternity, and the essence of Son of War responding to his call.

His soul began to shine, and the light became brighter and brighter, until his whole body turned into a burning star.

He saluted Guilliman with a solemn and pious gesture. "My father, I am your sharp blade.

I will kill all your enemies."

Guilliman smiled, and that smile was like sunshine, lighting up the whole Warp.

Blade Phaeron had just taken the first step when his perception matrix sent out a piercing alarm.

That alarm is not about Titus, but about the entire space.

The ground is shaking.

No, the whole space is shaking.

The vibration is not physical, but something more essential and profound.

Something that does not belong to the material world has invaded this area built by Blackstone.

Blade Phaeron turned around, his green eyes full of shock.

Damn it, this is an area created by Blackstone.

Blackstone is the top creation of Necrons. It is naturally capable of suppressing Warp. It can isolate Psionic Energy, drive away demons, and prevent any Warp being from getting close to it.

Even Chaos Gods cannot easily act in Blackstone.

But the shock became more and more intense.

Blackstone Fine cracks began to appear on the wall, and golden light shone through those cracks.

The light is warm, bright, and full of vitality.

It does not belong to Necrons, it does not belong to Chaos, and it does not belong to any cold, mechanical existence.

That is the light of humanity, the light of Guilliman, the light of Son of War.

Titus's body began to change.

The broken Power Armour began to repair itself.

The cracks are filled with golden light, the gaps are filled with blue energy, and every damage is healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The Power Sword that fell to the ground rekindled the golden flame, and the flame was more intense and dazzling than before.

The shattered heart began to reorganize in the chest.

Golden blood flows back from every wound, broken bones are rejoined, torn muscles grow again, and every blood vessel is renewed in the golden light.

Then, the heart started beating.

The beating sound was like a war drum, echoing in the Blackstone space.

Once, twice, three times - faster and faster, stronger and stronger, until the whole space is vibrating with the rhythm of that heart.

Titus's eyes slowly opened.

Those eyes were burning with blue-gold light.

The light is the color of Guilliman, the color of the Thirteenth Legion, and the color of Law of Eternity.

His body floated up from the ground, suspended in mid-air, surrounded by golden flames.

Those flames flowed on his Power Armour, burned on his blade, and boiled in his eyes.

He began to chant.

The voice was low and powerful, and every word was like thunder, echoing in the Blackstone space.

"My father Guilliman, King of Macragge, Lord of Ultramar, Lord of War, Lord of Eternity.

Your light shines on my body, your strength fills my heart, and your will guides my sword.

I am your sharp blade, I am your anger, I am your incarnation in Material Universe.

Praise my father, praise the Lord of War, praise the eternal Guilliman."

He stretched out his hand, and the Power Sword flew back into his hand.

The golden flames on the sword suddenly surged, illuminating the entire space.

He slowly swung the sword, his movements slow and agile, like dancing in the water or swaying in the wind.

But that slowness contains a power that can destroy everything, and that agility contains a sharp edge that can cut off the stars.

After the last prayer fell, he raised his sword, pointing directly at Blade Phaeron.

The golden flame condensed at the tip of the sword, forming a burning star.