Guilliman ordered that every loyal warrior who came to Macragge would receive the same supplies and support as the Ultramarines.
No favoritism, no discrimination—only equal treatment.
Even legions like the Salamanders, with only a handful of Astartes left, would receive the same treatment from the Five Hundred Worlds.
Lox could not help but marvel at Guilliman's political skill. This man was not merely a primarch, but an exceptionally pure political creature.
He could completely disregard affronts to his dignity and pride. Even a White Scars warrior could question him to his face.
He drew the legion warriors who had come to Macragge for all manner of reasons into his own battle line, offering them generous treatment with almost no expectation of return.
Make more friends, make fewer enemies. All their various demands and conflicts were consolidated into one purpose: opposing the rebellion Horus had raised.
Lox considered himself far inferior in this regard. If he had been the one dealing with these troublesome individuals with completely different demands, the conflicts might have escalated immediately.
It was precisely because of this that he felt the primarchs created by the Emperor were all born leaders. It was just that more than half of them had grown completely crooked due to a lack of education and care.
Guilliman received everyone in the hall one by one: representatives of the Space Marine legions and the leaders of the various rogue traders.
The Lord of Macragge conversed cheerfully with every one of them. His mind, more powerful than a supercomputer, could even remember the family trade of every rogue trader and know the war honors of every Space Marine.
After their pleasant conversations, several hours had passed. People gradually left the reception hall through the front entrance.
Once most of them had gone, several Space