185. Wait?!

I think I understand the concerns you had back then.

Roboute Guilliman said this, light shimmering over the golden hair of the Lord of the Imperium. Mortarion merely rolled his eyes in response.

I thought I'd already given you time off?

Guilliman asked teasingly. The words successfully made the Pale Lord somewhat wary of him. Guilliman watched as defensive white mist swiftly rose around Mortarion, the Death's footsteps shifting as he retreated to a safe distance.

Just beyond the reach of Guilliman's authority.

Honestly, Guilliman had not expected Mortarion to react like this. Though he had indeed pinned the Pale Lord down and made him work overtime for a while—

Guilliman had assumed Mortarion would continue provoking him as before.

But faced with unavoidable forced labor, even Mortarion had decided to take a roundabout approach.

I was only joking.

Guilliman futilely raised his hands, trying to make his tone as relaxed as possible.

A joke—a joke.

Guilliman said, but Angron walked over and patted Guilliman's shoulder plate.

He won't believe anything you say, Guilliman.

The Lord of the Red Sands added,

After you forced him to work for at least two months.

I just—

You can't exactly call that an accident.

Angron raised a brow, eyeing Guilliman's radiant, innocent expression from the side.

Sometimes I wonder whether you did it on purpose, just so you'd have an excuse to cut Hades's leave to return to the Death Guard, letting the Underking keep working forever.

I swear I never had such thoughts.

Guilliman swore righteously and sincerely. A chill ran across his forehead, coming from Mortarion, who had retreated into the mist.

The Lord of the Imperium was starting to sweat. He had merely worked for too long that one time and forgotten to release the authority he had placed upon