Welcome Banquet

Deep within Macragge's Honour, a banquet hall reserved for the highest level of receptions had been meticulously arranged.

Heavy tapestries depicted the Emperor's great deeds and the glory of the Great Crusade. The long dining table had been carved from a single piece of rare wood, polished to a mirror-like sheen.

Exquisite tableware gleamed beneath the soft lighting, while the air was filled with carefully blended incense and the enticing aroma of food.

This solemn, somewhat oppressive atmosphere clearly conveyed Guilliman's regard for this envoy from the Hilling Empire's core military establishment.

Within the banquet hall, Guilliman sat at the head of the table. Enduring severe physical discomfort, he had removed the Armor of Fate and donned formal robes, lending him an even steadier, more imposing air.

Obi-Wan sat in the seat of honor at his right. His ancient robe formed a strange contrast with the lavish Imperial-style décor around him, yet did not seem out of place in the slightest.

A gentle, composed smile remained on his face, as though he were attending a gathering of old friends.

Calgar, Celestine, Greyfax, Cawl, Evelyn, and the other key figures took their seats in turn.

The attendants moved silently through the hall, serving one carefully prepared dish after another.

Guilliman personally introduced the origin and distinctive qualities of every course, his voice measured yet carrying a faint, barely perceptible heaviness.

"This is smoked sausage from the Cadia Sector, renowned for its distinctive flavor and... resilient texture." Guilliman gestured for an attendant to place slices of the dark red sausage before Obi-Wan. "Cadians are among the Imperium's most steadfast warriors."

"This soup is made with a special fungus from Baal. It is delicious and rich in energy." He then indicated a bowl of thick soup giving off an unusual, delicate fragrance.

"And this is a specialty fruit from the agri-world Horn of Plenty... Unfortunately," Guilliman's voice sank, "Horn of Plenty, along with the sector where it was located, was reduced to scorched earth beneath the claws of the Tyranid hive fleet Leviathan during its last incursion. This is the final stock."

When he came to a spice produced on a distant frontier world, whose homeworld had now been entirely devoured by the Tyranids, concern for the Imperium's current state inevitably seeped into Guilliman's voice. "...These foods come from different worlds, and behind every one of them was once a prosperous world. Now, many have become history, or are struggling at the brink of destruction. The Tyranids... are like parasites clinging to bone, endlessly gnawing away at the Imperium's territory and lifeblood."

The moment the word "Tyranids" was spoken, the gentle smile on Obi-Wan's face vanished.

A razor-sharp gleam flashed through his blue eyes, calm as a still lake. He leaned slightly forward, instantly radiating an intangible concentration that made everyone hold their breath.

"Tyranids?" Obi-Wan's voice remained calm, but the gravity and seriousness within it abruptly intensified, reaching everyone at the table. "Regent Guilliman, could you tell me in detail about the Tyranids you have encountered? Their scale? Their primary unit composition? The frequency and pattern of their invasions?" His questions struck directly at the heart of the matter, carrying the precision and urgency unique to a wise man.

Guilliman was not surprised by Obi-Wan's reaction. An envoy from an empire that fought the Tyranids' main force would naturally be highly sensitive to any information concerning them.

He set down his utensils and, in a deep voice, described as clearly as possible everything the Imperium of Man currently knew about the Tyranid threat—the scale of known major hive fleets such as Leviathan and Behemoth; their primary bio-ship types, including hive ships, raider ships, and cruisers; the composition of their ground forces, including Warriors, Tyrants, Executioners, Tyranid Warriors, and more; as well as their traits of devouring planets, evolving and adapting, and appearing without warning.

As Guilliman spoke, Obi-Wan's tightly furrowed brow gradually relaxed. In the end, he even let out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief and leaned gently back against his chair.

He raised the crystal goblet before him, took a sip of Baal red wine, and only then spoke slowly. His tone had returned to calm, yet it carried an air of assessment that made the Imperials' hearts sink.

"Based on the Regent's description, the scale of their bio-ship clusters, the complexity of their unit composition, and their evolutionary capabilities... they are still in the transitional stage between a Juvenile Cluster and a Mature Predatory Swarm. Their overall threat level can tentatively be classified, under the Hilling Empire's Tyranid classification system, as... Remnant-class or a Small Hunting Pack."

"Remnant-class?!"

"A Small Hunting Pack?!"

Though they had prepared themselves mentally, hearing Obi-Wan's blunt assessment—one that even carried a hint of nothing much to speak of—still made Calgar, Greyfax, and the others gasp in low voices.

The horrific Tyranid swarms that had caused countless worlds to fall and entire legions to perish were, in the other man's eyes, merely "remnants" and a "Small Hunting Pack"?!

Obi-Wan seemed not to notice their shock. Or rather, he did not care about it.

He set down his wineglass and looked earnestly at Guilliman. "Even so, you must not let your guard down. The Tyranids' most terrifying qualities are their horrifying rate of evolution and inexhaustible reproductive capacity. Allowing any swarm node to grow may trigger a catastrophic chain reaction in the future. I strongly advise you, Regent, to gather every force you can mobilize, even... the strength of your allies." His gaze swept over Evelyn. "With the greatest speed and most resolute determination, eradicate this swarm invading your territory completely! At any cost, strangle it in its cradle before it spreads or evolves into more troublesome forms! Delay will only bring greater sacrifices and a more difficult situation."

His words were decisive, carrying an unquestionable wisdom of war.

A bitter, helpless smile appeared on Guilliman's face.

He slowly shook his head, and that smile contained far too much weight. "Your advice... is wise and strikes at the heart of the matter. However..."

He looked around at the Imperial leaders seated before him. His voice lowered, every word seeming to weigh a thousand tons. "The Tyranids are only one part of the Imperium's enemies. The Imperium's territory is vast, yet it has long been riddled with holes. The forces of Chaos have ignited wars across the galaxy. Traitors, heretics, xenos... like countless venomous serpents, they bite at the Imperium's colossal body. Our fleets are stretched thin and constantly racing from crisis to crisis. Our forces are scattered across innumerable fronts on the verge of collapse. Our resources... have long been nearing exhaustion. To support Ultramar, I have already drawn almost all mobile forces from Ultramar. The other sectors... can barely look after themselves."

He pointed through the window at the mountain-like piles of Hilling supplies being transported outside. "Your aid can save countless starving people, but it cannot immediately become macrocannons for warships or bolt shells for soldiers. Concentrate our forces to eliminate the Tyranids? Easier said than done! The Imperium... has long been a machine on the verge of falling apart from overload. Every component is groaning, and every redeployment may trigger another fracture."

A heavy silence fell over the banquet hall.

The holy light surrounding Celestine flickered faintly, carrying sorrow and compassion.

Greyfax pressed her lips tightly together, her gaze lowered.

Calgar's clenched fist rested on his knee, his knuckles white.

Cawl's mechanical head lowered slightly as data streams flowed in silence.

Evelyn simply watched Guilliman quietly, a trace of understanding in her eyes.

Obi-Wan listened in silence. The gentle smile had long vanished from his face, replaced by deep solemnity tinged with compassion.

His blue eyes were like a profound ocean, reflecting the vast and despairing image of the Imperium painted by Guilliman's words—a giant once glorious, staggering onward amid endless internal and external troubles, covered in wounds yet still struggling not to fall.

"I... understand." After a long while, Obi-Wan finally spoke, his voice low and full of understanding. "The Imperium's burdens... far exceed what I imagined. The war against Chaos, internal strife, the lack of resources... the predicament formed by all these intertwined hardships is truly regrettable." He paused, looking sincerely at Guilliman. "Then, Regent Guilliman, could you help me understand... how all of this came to pass? How could such a vast Imperium, with a figure as great as yourself, have... fallen into such a state?"

He had voiced the greatest question in his heart—the historical scars of the Imperium of Man.

Guilliman drew a deep breath, as though gathering strength to confront that weighty question.

He looked at Obi-Wan, his expression complicated. "The history of the Imperium of Man... is long and dark, filled with glory, yet soaked in blood and tears. The fall of the Golden Age, the Emperor's choices, the splendor of the Great Crusade and Horus's betrayal... how the Imperium struggled for survival through disaster after disaster, ultimately becoming what it is today..."

His voice carried a weary heaviness. "The truth of that history is like a torn wound, wrapped layer upon layer, buried away, even deliberately forgotten. It is too painful, too forbidden. It is locked deep within Terra—the heart of humanity, the Emperor's Throneworld—in its deepest and most secret archives. There lies the glory of the Imperium's birth, and also the bloody lessons and irreparable mistakes that led to its decline."

Guilliman's gaze became incomparably resolute as he met Obi-Wan's searching eyes. "Here, aboard this vessel, what I know and can tell you is only the tip of the iceberg, a vague outline within a grand narrative. If you, if the Hilling Empire, truly wish to understand why the Imperium of Man has become what it is today—why we embrace faith in fear, seek heroes in despair, and maintain fragile unity amid division..."

He paused, his tone taking on an almost ceremonial gravity.

"Then please accompany me to Terra. There, beneath the Emperor's gaze, at the birthplace and scarred ground of human history, I will open for you, for the Hilling Empire, the buried and bloodstained truth."

The banquet hall was so silent that a pin could have been heard falling.

Greyfax nearly stopped breathing, and an indescribable apprehension flashed through her eyes.

To go to Terra and open the deepest forbidden archives? Those rotten politicians would never agree. With their arrogance, they might even send someone... She looked at Obi-Wan, already guessing how those great figures, whose minds held nothing but power, would target this Hilling envoy.

Obi-Wan quietly watched Guilliman. In those eyes that could see into the human heart, he saw the Regent's grave resolve and composure.

After a moment, he gave a slight nod, and a gentle, respectful smile returned to his face.

"I am deeply grateful, Regent Guilliman. To have the opportunity to hear, at your sacred place of origin, the history of courage and sacrifice that shaped the Imperium of today is a great honor. I look forward to... the journey to Terra."