Who Else Do You Have to Rely On?

The flag of the Ultramar Crusade was raised in Macragge only ten days ago.

Guilliman and his transformed army have swept across a hundred planets with overwhelming force, achieving a complete "liberation."

This means not only driving out or eliminating the surface enemies, but also completing the purge of the planet's ruling class.

(Those who commit heinous crimes will be physically purified; those who can still be redeemed will be subject to supervision and rehabilitation.)

A temporary management structure centered on loyal Ultramarines was established, and Guilliman's governing philosophy was initially implanted.

This also brought his total number of Governance Points to six figures, or 100,000, for the first time.

The Governance Points that can be provided for each recaptured planet varies, depending on the planet's population, resource strength, and level of development.

Macragge is the most excellent planet in the Ultramar Five Hundred Worlds, and possibly even in the entire Imperium of Man.

Therefore, Guilliman was able to directly obtain 10,000 Governance Points after completing the recapture.

But these Governance Points are clearly not enough; Guilliman has to rely on the system to help him accomplish the great task of restoring humanity.

'System, after I rule a planet, how often will I be given Governance Points? And how many points will I receive each time?'

[As the Lord Regent, after each planet he conquers, the people's hearts are won over, and all people submit to him.]

As long as the host fulfills the duties of Lord Regent and helps the people of this planet live better lives, the people will have heartfelt faith in you.

The system will calculate Governance Points for the host once a month.

As for the quantity, it depends on the host's political achievements.

If the people's happiness level rises sharply, the host will receive no less than 1/10 of the Governance Points gained each time the planet is conquered.

'I see. So, based on the current level of public happiness, how many Governance Points can this planet provide me this month?'

[Can provide 150]

'I see... 15%, that's not low.'

Guilliman thought to himself, "At least it's a sustainable industry, and as the Primarch, I don't lack time!"

They've waited 10,000 years; the Imperium of Man has plenty of patience!

Every Ultramarines involved in governance wholeheartedly agrees with Guilliman's teachings:

They acquired such great power not to surpass mortals, but to shoulder greater responsibilities and better serve and protect the cornerstone of the Imperium.

To betray this power is to defile the noble bloodline bestowed upon us by the Gene-Father.

More importantly, Guilliman never entrusted the Destiny of a planet to a single individual.

On important planets, he appointed at least ten unwaveringly loyal warriors who were deeply aware of the nature of Chaos to govern together, thus creating a system of checks and balances.

This fundamentally prevents the tragedy of an entire planet collapsing instantly due to the corruption or depravity of a single individual.

He had full confidence in the loyalty and resistance to corruption of his sons, and this decentralized and balanced arrangement allowed him to focus on the campaigns on the front lines without any worries.

Over the past ten days, aside from necessary combat and political duties, Guilliman has spent much of his time with soldiers from different companies and regiments.

They dine together, conduct tactical simulations, and even participate in training games that enhance reaction time and teamwork.

He knew that an invincible army needed not only powerful weapons and physical strength, but also a bond as strong as steel and a shared burning belief.

These seemingly ordinary interactions propelled the Legion's cohesion and loyalty to the Gene-Father to unprecedented heights.

At this moment, the massive hull of the Macragge's Honour slightly adjusted its posture amidst the waves of the Warp, its engine output power increasing once again as it sped toward its next target.

The navigator sent a message: We will arrive at the target star system in twenty minutes.

Calixis Prime, once an industrial jewel on the edge of Ultramar, is now a purgatory furnace.

This Forge World, which has produced countless armor plates and weapon components for the Imperium, had its seeds of corruption sown deep within its crust many years ago by the aftermath of a Warp Storm.

As the vanguard of the Black Legion.

The army is primarily composed of the "Night Lords" warband, known for its cruelty and cunning, and includes a large number of fanatical Chaos Cultist.

When I arrived quietly, the seeds had already sprouted.

The most powerful Adeptus Mechanicus mastermind on the planet had already secretly offered his core logic to the Chaos Pantheon.

He quietly altered the planetary defense array's friend-or-foe identification code and firepower parameters.

When an elite Tactical Squad from the Ultramarines Legion, stationed here to oversee and assist in defense, returned from a routine patrol aboard Thunderhawk Gunship and approached the airspace above the main forging temple.

Instead of identification signals, they were met with a saturation barrage from the ground-based Macro-cannon array.

Ten loyal soldiers, amidst shock and the flames of the explosion, along with their vehicle, were reduced to scattered metal debris and blood-and-flesh ice crystals on the tracks.

The rebellion was inevitable the moment the strongest internal fortress was breached.

The Chaos forces captured the core forging area almost without bloodshed.

The roaring furnace was forcibly modified, infused with blasphemous runes and Warp energy, and became a "Soul Forge".

Captured, still-living workers were directly thrown into molten metal at thousands of degrees Celsius.

They extract the extreme pain and fragments of their souls before their death to forge Chaos Power Armour imbued with a malevolent curse.

A mixture of industrial waste and Chaos Sorcery was released into the atmosphere.

Within three days, the originally gray sky was filled with thick "blood rain" that smelled of rust and rotting flesh.

Rainwater is highly corrosive, causing surface vegetation to wither and die rapidly.

In the soil, "Chaos mycelium" that emits a dark red glow and slowly devours metal like a living thing grows.

The surviving indigenous people were either forcibly indoctrinated with Chaos doctrines under torture and intimidation, turning them into "Chaos slave laborers" with dull eyes who only knew how to work;

They were either bound to the altar and offered up in a frenzied ritual to Khorne, Blood God who craved blood and skulls.

Even the large space stations in the planet's orbit were modified, covered with spikes and skull decorations, and turned into temporary repair and resupply points for the Chaos Raiders.

The massive silhouette of the Macragge's Honour, like a harbinger of imperial glory, suddenly appeared in the distant orbit of the Calixis Prime.

The scanning beam had just swept across the repulsive crimson clouds on the planet's surface.

Deep within the Temple of the Forge, the traitorous Grand Master Technician received a faint communication request signal from orbit.

On his face, which was half mechanical and half rotting flesh, the gears and exposed nerves twitched simultaneously.

He turned to the Night Lords champion beside him, who was leaning against the control panel, his armor covered in dried scalp and screaming souls.

"He's here."

The chief technician's electronic voice was mixed with the hissing sound of flesh rubbing together, "That 'Son of the God-King,' Robert Guilliman."

The Night Lords's champion, who called himself "the Flayer" Karakx, let out a low, pleasurable laugh, like the scraping of metal:

"You've come at the perfect time."

Every furnace, every production line, and even every drop of 'rain' on this planet is singing for us.

Mobilize everything you have, Master Technician.

Turn this fortress, this planet, into a tomb to bury the Primarch.

"Use his skull to adorn my battle banner."

Soon, Guilliman, in orbit, detected unusual Psionic Energy readings and the eerie silence of the defense arrays through an initial scan of the planet.

He decided to first send two of his elite heirs down to conduct a rapid reconnaissance and situation assessment.

Two chosen Ultramarines, experienced scout veterans, disembarked from the warship.

Using their own flight capabilities, they plummeted like two blue meteors towards the planet shrouded in blood-red clouds.

As soon as it pierced through the clouds, a thick "blood rain" rushed towards it.

Rainwater pelted the Power Armour, producing a hissing, corrosive sound.

Furthermore, a cold, foul Psionic Energy aura attempted to penetrate the armor, eroding their senses and will.

Their new bodies are incredibly powerful, with astonishing physical defense.

However, when faced with this Chaos contamination targeting the soul and the Warp Essence, it is like an unsharpened blade encountering corrosive venom, lacking any specific resistance.

"Something's wrong! This rainwater... it's Chaos and filthy!"

A soldier growled over the radio, feeling his reactions becoming sluggish and his energy flow becoming sluggish.

"Unable to maintain high-altitude flight! The Psionic Energy interference is too strong, and the Smart Atom Force Field has been weakened!"

The other soldier was also finding it difficult.

The two were forced to descend, eventually landing atop a factory ruin covered in mycelium and emitting eerie bubbles.

The azure armor was stained with dark red grime, and a foul-smelling wisp of smoke rose from it.

Almost the instant they landed, crimson goggles lit up like will-o'-the-wisps amidst the shadows and wreckage around them.

Dozens of Night Lords, Chaos Space Marines, like a pack of wolves that had been waiting, revealed themselves and surrounded them.

More and more Chaos Cultist "Blood Claw Fanatics," clad in tattered armor and with fanatical eyes, surged out of the various passages like a tide, emitting howls that were not human.

The leading Night Lords, whose helmet was adorned with long, curved horns, spoke through a voice changer, filled with mockery and absolute malice:

"Look, the Emperor's 'new angel'?"

How dazzling, how... fragile.

Do you really think you can reclaim the realm that has fallen into Chaos with this new skin?

Ignorance!

Even your Primarch have long been marked by the great gods.

Give up; resistance is futile.

The Destiny of the Milky Way was already sealed; the Chaos tides will devour everything, and you are but a few pebbles slightly pricking your feet at the forefront of those tides."