The King's Duty

His voice lowered, carrying a heavy, melancholic tone—a tone he hoped future generations would never have to understand—before it shone with a glimmer of hope:

"You are different. You are a child of the new era. You grew up in the light of Lord Guilliman."

You must grow up well and become strong so that you will be powerful and capable in the future.

The man didn't say we needed to repay him in any way, but we must keep that in mind, strive to become successful, and live up to this immense kindness.

Guilliman and Yvraine stood quietly to the side.

They were enveloped in a subtle, distorted field of Psionic Energy that conveyed both light and presence.

This allowed the extraordinary "visitors" to blend into the air, remaining unnoticed by ordinary eyes.

They listened to these unvarnished, heartfelt words.

"This is much more beautiful than the hymns that choirs rack their brains to compose."

Yvraine whispered to Guilliman, a rare and deeply moving emotion crossing the Eldar's face:

"Even our Harlequin Troupe's plays, which depict joys and sorrows, can hardly simulate such... unadorned yet soul-stirring genuine emotions."

The deeper we understand the recovery of human society under Guilliman's guidance, the better.

She increasingly felt that the Eldar's art forms, inherited from the Golden Age, were exquisitely complex to the extreme.

Sometimes, the pursuit of lofty forms can alienate us from the most authentic pulse of life.

"In the words of the human art world..."

Guilliman responded with a smile, his gaze remaining gentle on the old man and the baby.

"Plain description" is often the most exquisite form of expression.

Discarding all flowery language and complex techniques, use only the most sincere emotions and the simplest words to depict the scene.

The intense emotions contained within allow every listener to clearly and unmistakably feel their weight.

He paused, then took two steps forward, though his figure remained hidden.

He reached out and gently pressed his hand on the sleeping baby's forehead from a distance.

"For example, right now..."

He Whisper, his voice audible only to Yvraine.

A pure and warm golden-blue halo, like the gentlest morning dew, flowed from his fingertips and silently entered the baby's brow.

The infant, who was in a dream, seemed to sense something, its long eyelashes trembled a few times, and it slowly opened its eyes.

The depths of those originally jet-black pupils now seemed to reflect a sea of stars, with a faint blue-gold glint flashing briefly before disappearing.

This was not an bestowal of Psionic Energy upon him, but rather Guilliman bestowing upon him the deepest blessing with his own Psionic Energy, which contained the characteristics of Vitruum and the pure life force.

In the future, he will find it easier to maintain good health and a clear mind, and will be free from major poverty and serious illness throughout his life.

The blessings did not stop.

Another, gentler, spring-like power quietly seeped into the body of the old man beside him.

The old man was completely unaware; he only felt a sudden warmth and drowsiness wash over him, making him feel exceptionally comfortable.

His chronic injuries and long-standing pains accumulated from years of hard work, as well as the life essence eroded by poor nutrition and harsh environment.

All of them began to slowly and steadily repair and nourish themselves in this silent blessing.

When he falls into a deep sleep tonight and wakes up at dawn the next day, he may not experience a miraculous rebirth.

It was a long-lost feeling of ease and vitality, as if I were more than ten years younger.

"As a ruler who governs such a vast territory, you seem... a little too 'merciful'."

Yvraine watched this scene, her tone laced with good-natured teasing, but her purple eyes held a deep thoughtfulness.

Such meticulous and individual-centered care is truly rare in a cruel Milky Way where grand narratives and racial survival are pursued.

Guilliman withdrew his hand, turned to face Yvraine, and his face still held that gentle yet firm smile.

"No, Yvraine, this is precisely one of the responsibilities that a king must bear."

He raised his hand, his arm tracing an arc, pointing to the fertile land before him, and even further, to the five hundred worlds awakening beyond his sight:

"The king receives their offerings, hears their praise, and basks in their gratitude."

Therefore, the king must also bear their pain, share their past traumas, and shoulder the entire weight of leading them to stability and happiness!

This is not a benevolent act of charity, it is... a balance of rights and responsibilities.

Upon hearing this, Yvraine's beautiful purple eyes widened suddenly.

She gazed at Guilliman's handsome and resolute profile, watching the unwavering determination hidden beneath the calm smile on his lips.

At that moment, she deeply felt an indescribable, human quality.

Some people are so despicable that they are nauseating, while others are so noble that they display the demeanor of gods.

"Yes... this is the demeanor of a true king."

She sighed softly, her voice carrying a complex mix of envy and a touch of sadness:

"It's a pity for our Eldar; we haven't had a true 'king' who can so calmly shoulder the sins of the race's rise and fall for so long."

As the leader of the Reaper Host, she was well aware of the difficulties and burdens involved.

Even she would find it difficult to say, with such openness and firmness, "I can bear all the sins" as Guilliman did at that moment.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, just as I constantly remind myself not to be demanding."

Guilliman's gaze became distant. "I know that an individual's shoulders are ultimately limited and cannot bear all suffering."

But the key is... to be determined to bear it and to fight tirelessly for it until my people can truly enjoy lasting peace and happiness."

This is not an isolated phenomenon in the world of "Bountiful Benediction".

In the two months following Guilliman's return and the full activation of the system's power.

The Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar are like parched land infused with the fountain of life, bursting forth with astonishing vitality at an unprecedented speed.

For countless people around the world, this change was as dramatic as a dream.

If we were to use a metaphor that is closer to Guilliman's "past life" memories:

They are like a group of senior high school students from the most competitive regions for the college entrance examination.

Struggling daily under the relentless pressure of "sleeping before dawn and waking at midnight," every minute and every second is filled with "struggle," enduring double pressure on both body and mind.

They have almost forgotten what "life" is really like.

Then, the college entrance examination ended.

Suddenly, the string that had been stretched to its limit was released.

They discovered that they could sleep until they naturally woke up without worrying about the jarring alarm clock;

It turns out that you can savor your meal slowly instead of staring at notes while swallowing;

It turns out that you can daydream, take a walk, or develop a small hobby during your free time without feeling guilty.