I know how you feel—I understand, I understand you, Mortarion, but I do not think this is a good idea.
Guilliman pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with Macragge's blue skies and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Opposite him stood the pale giant, covered in engine oil, blood, and mud, his expression blank.
The Death Guard could cross that region and rendezvous with Ferrus.
Mortarion calmly pointed this out.
The Silent King's forces were retreating as well. The Death Guard's departure would not cause the battle line to collapse.
You cannot focus solely on finding Hades.
Guilliman took a deep breath and looked rationally at Mortarion.
What you call crossing it means forcing your way through the Silent King's occupied territory via the Warp. It will inflict immense losses on you and your army—but in four days at most, our main force will break open a route from the frontal battlefield.
You mean leaving Hades and Ferrus to face the Tyranids' main force, the Silent King, and the Greenskins?
I trust Hades, Ferrus, and our ally, the Endless One, to hold out for these few days.
Guilliman spread his hands.
You should admit it, Mortarion. Hades is far stronger than any of us imagined, not to mention Ferrus assisting him at his side.
Mortarion merely breathed quietly, exhaling poisonous fumes. For some reason, Guilliman felt that after contacting another Mortarion, the Mortarion he knew had become somewhat better-tempered—at least, more tolerant.
That is not a reason for you to keep placing pressure on his side—yes, yes, Guilliman, I understand you completely. You are exactly like Neos. That was how he treated the Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists back then. So long as he believed they could endure it, he would keep assigning missions to those two Legions.
Of course Mortarion