Innocence

Don't try that on me!

Asuryan's voice rose a few decibels, and Psionic Energy surged around him, causing the light of the divine realm to flicker.

"I see Neoth's shadow in you!"

He was somewhat exasperated, and even showed signs of turning red.

That usually calm face was now filled with the frustration of "I knew this would happen."

"Damn it, I thought you were a gentleman who followed the rules, but you're just like that guy, a bunch of shameless bastards!"

Guilliman blinked, looking completely innocent.

"Uncle, what are you saying? I'm the most law-abiding person."

"You follow the rules?" Asuryan sneered. "If you followed the rules, would you have changed the laws of Macragge over three hundred times?"

"You follow the rules by bypassing Terra's orders and expanding your army on your own? You follow the rules—"

"That's to deal with the threat of Chaos; special cases require special handling."

Guilliman retorted seriously, "Besides, Uncle, don't you often bypass the Eldar Council's decisions too? We're just like-minded."

"Who agrees with you, great minds think alike!"

Kaine, who had been standing silently to the side for a long time, slowly turned his gaze and looked at his brother with a puzzled expression.

This war god of the Eldar, who wields the power of war, is surrounded by a faint aura of battle.

It's an aura that can only be forged after countless battles and bathing in countless drops of blood.

His armor was covered with battle runes, each one glowing faintly, as if ready to face a new battle at any moment.

But at this moment, the light of those runes dimmed slightly, because Kaine's attention was completely drawn to the strange sight of "the god-king arguing with a human."

In his perception, Asuryan was filled with anger, and he was also suppressing an impulse to teach the human Primarch a lesson.

A mixture of pure fighting spirit and anger.

Kaine's eyes lit up.

That kind of gleam is the excitement that only appears when a warrior senses the approach of battle.

His fingers trembled slightly, not from fear, but from anticipation.

His breathing became rapid, not from nervousness, but because—he was finally about to see blood!

He cried out silently in his heart.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

He wanted to see rivers of blood, to witness the most intense battles, and to feel the most fervent will to fight!

He wanted to see the God-King's Psionic Energy storm sweep through the hall, to see the Primarch's Emperor's Sword cleave the sky, and to see the pinnacle of power from two civilizations clash here, creating the most dazzling sparks!

Kaine's lips curled up involuntarily, a smile that bordered on maniacal.

He had even started to consider in his mind who he should help first if Asuryan and Guilliman started fighting.

No, he won't help either side. What he wants to see is a closely fought battle, a fight where both sides give it their all, a battle where—

"Kaine, stop with that 'I'm watching this show' look."

Asuryan didn't even turn her head, coldly uttering a single sentence.

Kaine's expression froze instantly.

But far away in the depths of the Chaos Warp—

Khorne sat atop the Brass Fortress.

It was a monstrous structure built from countless skulls, each brick representing the head of a fallen warrior, and each beam representing the end of a life.

Blood seeped from every crevice of the fortress, flowing into rivers that meandered through the void of the Warp.

But at this moment, Khorne had no interest in appreciating his masterpiece.

He stared at the Chaos mirror reflecting the divine realm before him, as desperate as a stray dog unable to find a toilet, frantically waving the blood axe in his hand.

Each swing of that giant axe tore a massive rift in the Warp, drawing countless demons in before they could escape, turning them to dust.

But Khorne didn't care.

His entire attention was focused on the mirror, on that damned, impenetrable barrier of the divine realm that kept him outside.

Damn it!

The roar shook the Brass Fortress.

"Get out of my way, you divine realm that's oriented towards Psionic Energy!"

The blood axe swung again, this time cleaving half of the fortress in two.

"I want to see fighting! I want to see bloodshed!"

Khorne has never felt so stifled.

He could clearly see the impending conflict in the divine realm and feel the fighting spirit that fascinated him, but because of the damned positive Psionic Energy barrier, he was isolated and unable to participate.

That feeling of helplessness was like a husband locked out, only able to watch the commotion inside, yet unable to find his way in.

He could hear sounds, see images, and feel the heat of battle, but just—

I can't get in.

He was filled with rage but had nowhere to vent it.

"Ameiro!!!"

Khorne's roar echoed throughout the Chaos Warp, shattering countless demons, causing the ruins of the Brass Fortress to continue collapsing, and making the runes on the Blood Axe wail in agony.

But it just couldn't penetrate Asuryan's divine barrier.

That pale golden Psionic Energy barrier, like an invisible wall, completely isolated the authority of the Chaos Gods.

No matter how Khorne roared, how he swung his axe, or how he wielded the power of Chaos, he could not shake the entire situation.

The power of rules left behind by the Old Ones is just that unreasonable.

Inside the divine realm, Guilliman seemed oblivious to Asuryan's rebuke, his expression remaining earnest and sincere.

He raised his hand and gently pounded his chest, the movement solemn and devout, his eyes incredibly sincere, even carrying a hint of resolute devotion.

"Uncle, I'm your own nephew!"

Her voice carried a sense of grievance, as if she were saying, "How could you do this to me?"

"As you know, I've always wanted to be a member of the Eldar. My territory, Ultramar, is already inhabited by countless Eldar. We live together peacefully, helping each other and developing together—"

"Wait," Asuryan interrupted him, "The Eldar population of Ultramar is less than three hundred, while your human population is—"

"Details don't matter," Guilliman waved his hand. "Attitude is what matters!"

He took a step forward, his eyes growing increasingly sincere.

"I was born yearning for the glory of the Eldar!"

Those eyes were clean and pure, carrying an almost naive persistence.

The azure eyes reflected the pale golden light of the divine realm, making them look like two jewels embedded in the night sky.

Anyone who reads this will agree that what he said is true.

Asuryan looked into his "innocent" eyes and was momentarily speechless.