The wreckage of Macragge's orbital defense platform, the Unyielding Bulwark, slowly rotated through the Void like the hollowed-out bones of some gigantic beast.
Guilliman's fleet swept aside the remaining Death Guard vessels in orbit with overwhelming force. The plague-spreading, sluggish ships were reduced to burning scrap beneath the precise, ferocious firepower of the Imperium fleet.
The landing operation was swift as the wind. Primaris Space Marines clad in the latest Mk X Power Armour descended like warriors from heaven, carrying flame weapons specialized against Nurgle corruption and purification field generators as they carved blazing paths of cleansing through the ravaged hive cities.
Just as Guilliman had expected, Mortarion's main force had not attacked Macragge.
His brother seemed intent on playing a game of chess with him rather than fighting a decisive planetary campaign.
Under the combined assault of the Ultramarines and Primaris warriors, the remaining Plague Marines and Nurgle daemons were swiftly purged or driven back into the Warp.
Though the cities lay in ruins and the lingering poison of the plague would take a long time to eradicate completely, Macragge's skies were finally, if only briefly, free of those foul green clouds.
Yet there was little joy of victory on Guilliman's face.
He stood at the highest point of Macragge's council chamber, looking down upon the vast circular assembly below.
This was the heart of Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds, where representatives, nobles, and guild leaders from every world had gathered.
At that moment, the ring was packed with people, yet the atmosphere was as oppressive as the dead calm before a storm.
Guilliman's voice rang out through the amplifiers, like a cold anvil striking against every heart.
"The Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar will, from this moment onward, return to the rule of the Ultramarines, and the autonomy in