181 Should Probably Eat First

Number Thirteen, Thirteenth Son, Lord of Ultramar, Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds, Avenging Son, Fire of Reason, Lord of Power, former Imperial Regent, current honorary monarch of the Imperium—

Roboute Guilliman.

His short, curled golden hair gleamed like gold itself. The fresh green of a leafy laurel wreath sprouted amid those slightly stiff golden locks. Gold thread shone without light, yet it still could not compare to the brilliance of his eyes beneath deep-set sockets, reflecting the blazing noon sun over a vast ocean that stretched endlessly and embraced all things.

I hate Roboute Guilliman, but sometimes, I will admit that he is exceptional... I choose to forgive his past mistakes.

Mortarion commented.

Guilliman's nose stood tall like a marble sculpture, his thin lips always pressed tightly together in thought. Gold and blue satin draped across his shoulders, silk and thread interweaving to surround their true king.

I will always trust our brother Roboute. It was he who supported this enormous entity when the Imperium was in crisis. Without Roboute Guilliman, people would find it difficult to face the Imperium's mountain of administrative work.

Archangel Sanguinius commented.

Glory was forged from radiant gold and gemstones. A U-shaped emblem gleamed upon his chest, while a layer of pale golden flame burned over his sword, the Emperor's Sword. This weapon had originally been bestowed upon Guilliman by The Emperor, but now, the blade had completely submitted to the Imperium's current master.

"...Guilliman... So it really was him... I guessed right, hehehehe..."

Malcador sneered.

The true king turned his head. He looked at his father with such sincerity, such earnestness.

I hope we get along well in the future, Father.

Roboute Guilliman said, extending a hand toward The Emperor. Neos slapped away the hand Guilliman had offered.

"!!--***!"

This was the censored