Self-Proclaimed Justice

The Seventeenth Legion's slaughter was effortless. All they needed to do was activate their Void Shields and glide forward, and the unmoving steel behemoths would be evaporated and annihilated. Their macro-cannons and lance beams could even boil them.

This was even easier than target practice, as the enemy's power systems, Void Shields, and weapon systems were still active. All they had to do was find and target these cobalt-blue warships, lock on, and completely destroy them.

Every time an Ultramarines warship was destroyed, Word Bearers warriors cheered and screamed with all their hearts. In the past, these people had destroyed the Perfect City and then forced them to kneel and suffer under the Emperor's oppression.

Today was the day they would repay this humiliation to the Ultramarines.

Today was the day the great power of the Empyrean would reveal its ultimate truth.

The shelling raged, with hundreds of kilometers of plasma and beams crisscrossing, and lightning tearing through enemy armor, slaughtering all life.

The four-kilometer-long Saber-class escort ship exploded and disintegrated from within. The Hope-class battleship was consumed by white-hot flames. The auxiliary carrier, the Farewell, exploded like a flower, taking tens of thousands of lives as it withered. The engines of the turning Vosferrus were hit, and its collapsing wreckage smashed another troop transport in half.

The ships laden with honor turned into eternal tombs without firing a single shot. After falling into space, they were captured by the gravity of a star and continued to rotate, preserving the heroic posture of their brave crews in their final moments.

Thanks to the sacrifices of many brave and fearless warriors who delayed the enemy, the remaining warships finally began to recover. Their reactors burned with immense fury, squeezing out all their energy to get the engines moving again.

"Glory of Macragge weapon systems online, power systems nearing full recovery!" the captain's report sent a jolt through the Primarch, who immediately ordered the ship's lances to fire with all their might.

The Hellfire-class warship, the Pure Flame, which was attacking the dockyard, had a magnificent appearance, like a giant shining blade. Its heavy prow could directly split smaller warships in half, but its rampage was about to end.

Under the overwhelming firepower of the Gloriana-class warship, a brilliant lance strike hit its rear. The stellar heat melted its armor, and an energy explosion destroyed its engines. In a chain reaction, this warship also became cold space debris.

The Glory of Macragge's tail thrusters reignited. This colossal warship, 26 kilometers long, was the pinnacle of Imperial forging technology and could face any opponent in space naval warfare with overwhelming dominance.

This super-warship was filled with the flames of rage, tearing apart any Word Bearers warship within its field of vision.

The flagship's revival was a signal, and Ultramarines Legion starships of all sizes gradually resumed their operations. Although most were wounded, it did not affect their ability to unleash their weapons upon the enemy.

"The warships gathered at Kaos that have been destroyed, and those that have been out of contact so far, about 45% have restored their power systems. They can now participate in this naval battle."

The captain's report made Guilliman's heart bleed. In just a few short hours, nearly half of the Legion's warships had been lost, and the culprit had yet to be brought to justice.

"I order! All warships to open fire and crush all enemies!"

The Primarch's voice echoed across all the Ultramarines warships. Macro-cannons and lances formed the sole main theme of this brutal space naval battle.

Warships exploded and sank every moment, but more rose to fight back.

There was no fear, nothing to fear!

"It's useless, stop struggling, Roboute. You have no idea what you're fighting against. The Wolf God Horus is rising. He will replace the Emperor and become the new master of mankind, leading all of humanity into the embrace of the Empyrean."

"The other brothers have chosen to walk with him. I will be his loyal comrade, as will Fulgrim, Angron, Perturabo, Mortarion, Koz, Magnus, and Alpharius."

"Ferrus is dead, his head was severed by Fulgrim. Gorgon the monster was a great threat, but that's in the past. Vulkan is dead, Corvus Corax is also dead. How much strength do you have left?"

Guilliman finally understood the message that Kaos wanted to convey, even if it meant attacking his flagship with its weapon arrays.

It wasn't just the Word Bearers' betrayal; it was that half of the Emperor's Primarchs and Adeptus Astartes had betrayed him.

This was not bad news, but a nightmare.

"Use your superhuman brain to think, Roboute. I wouldn't tell such an obvious lie. You and I have a long-standing feud, but I wouldn't destroy your Legion over a petty personal grudge. Everything I've done is to overthrow that hypocritical tyrant. I want humanity to truly embrace the Empyrean, to embrace that perfect truth!"

Loka's eyes were filled with fanaticism and excitement, but it sent a chill down Guilliman's spine, making him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

"They've all gone mad. They've destroyed the great cause of revival, yet they still claim to be doing it for humanity."

Guilliman wanted to grab Loka's head and slam it to the ground, to ask this frenzied prophet: Were the hundreds of millions of lives burning and dying in Kaos right now also dying for the revival of humanity?

"Guilliman, I've come to destroy your Legion because your threat is too great. Your damned blue elves keep popping up like green-skins, generation after generation. You are too dangerous, your existence is the greatest variable."

Loka leaned forward, almost breaking free from the holographic projection to pounce on Roboute.

"Putting aside our personal grievances, I actually admire you, so out of respect for you—"

"Please go die."

Loka's light form began to transform. The body made of light actually dripped with viscous oil, its muscles melting to reveal bones, until it dissolved entirely into a pool of bizarre liquid.

Guilliman instinctively sensed the anomaly. He could feel something that should not exist entering the material world.

It was a nightmare from the old days, malice resurrected from the long passage of time. It came from the sea of the Warp, and it was breaking free from Loka's skin.

It had a shining black body, with knotted veins growing wildly. Trembling, writhing eyeballs covered its entire surface, and sharp fangs, claws, and bat-like wings spread out. Its surface emitted a faint light that could touch humanity's deepest fears.

Its monstrous horns were four meters long, twisted and winding. Hissing growls spat out an unbearable stench, the smell of blood, venom, and filth mixed together.

Guilliman's hand rested on his sword hilt; he was fully alert.

"Roboute," it spoke in human language, "Let the galaxy burn!"

The evil power of the Warp descended with the filth of sacrificial sorcery. A trace of power from the Empyrean exploded on the bridge of the Glory of Macragge.

In this wave of explosion that did not belong to the material universe, the Ultramarines' gene-seed Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, was swept into space.