Mathieu disappeared from Guilliman's sight. Guilliman did not know whether he had made the right decision with that order, but the searing presence appeared again and even praised him.
"All xenos are untrustworthy. Every Ork in Octarius must be killed."
If this presence truly came from his father, what was his reason? During his audience with the Emperor, he had learned how little humanity the Emperor had left. The Emperor saw him as a tool. Why would such a being pay particular attention to Orks in some remote region?
After all, no matter how he looked at it, the Greenskins of Octarius hardly ranked among the major threats facing the Imperium of Man. Before long, the Tyranids might well devour them all.
Glancing at Lorgar's Book beside him, Guilliman picked it up again out of curiosity and began reading it carefully. As he saw it, he had dispatched such a powerful fleet, and the Unbroken Defensive Line also had the Deathwatch, the Black Templars, and other Space Marine Chapters stationed there.
With so much strength gathered in one place, holding a region of space should not pose much of a problem unless Abaddon personally led an army against it.
While Guilliman read at ease, the Ulthwé Craftworld sailed silently along the edge of the Octarius sector.
Over the past few centuries, this Craftworld had grown even stronger. Its population had increased considerably, its fleet had doubled to over fifteen hundred warships, and its military strength had doubled as well.
The reason was a sorrowful one. This rapid growth had not come from its own development, but from taking in refugees from other Craftworld Aeldari communities. The galaxy was dangerous and cruel. Even Craftworlds as vast as planets could be destroyed.
As a refugee from Malan’tai Craftworld, Autarch Yriel Aeshalia had