Emperor's Bane

Chapter 743: Guilliman Sobs

Chapter 743: Guilliman Sobs
"grown ups."

"You should eat something."

This was the third time that evening that Fratus-Auguston had disobeyed his Gene-Father's orders and knocked on Guilliman's door without permission.

On the throne, if it were a few standard months ago, he would rather die in obscurity than believe that he would repeatedly violate the orders of the Lord of the Legion: but now the increasingly worsening situation has forced the Extreme Warriors to do so.

Not only Auguston, but almost all the remaining senior officers of the Ultramarines Legion gathered in this corridor outside Guilliman's office. Medals, honors and gold service nails were everywhere on this piece of land, which was no more than a dozen meters square. However, the glittering light could not conceal the almost identical anxiety on the faces of everyone present.

"grown ups?"

"Do you have any instructions?"

The Ultramarines' tone was as subtle as that of a child who had made a mistake.

Auguston clenched his right hand, which he used to hold the sword, into a fist, and carefully pushed the heavy door in front of him with his clenched fist. When he felt that it did not move at all, he put his ear close to it: after a few seconds, the silence in the room made him retreat dejectedly.

"It's been three days."

A hoarse voice, like a barren land dried up by the sun, came from the front of all the Ultramarines present: Gage, the first commander of the Ultramarines, was leaning against the doorpost. He had hardly left this position in the past few weeks, because the Gene-Father he swore to protect had not left the room for several weeks either.

"It has been three days since he was last willing to receive outsiders and have a meal."

Gage turned his head and first used his eyes to comfort Auguston, who was about to break his fist, and then glanced at a waiter and his cart surrounded by a group of Ultramarines officers: the cart was filled with a wide variety of delicious food, but it was slowly cooling down in the dead silence.

This kind of scene has happened countless times in recent months.

Ever since the outbreak of the Badab Crisis led Guilliman to convene a rare emergency meeting on Macragge, along with the gradual mobilization of the military forces of the Five Hundred Worlds and the escalating situation on the [front line], for the next fifty days, the entire Hera Fortress was immersed in a strange silence and uneasiness.

The source of this strange aura is the monarch of the Five Hundred Worlds: the crisis of Badab and the wave of independentism that is now raging throughout the Five Hundred Worlds seem to have accurately struck this iron-hard primarch in some way that no one has noticed.

After the confrontation between the Five Hundred Worlds and the Holy Terra Armed Forces became irreversible, Guilliman dismissed all his subordinates, canceled all appointments to meet with outsiders, locked himself in his office alone, and fell into silence all day and night.

Although he still accepted reports or conveyed orders through various means, the actions of the Ultramarines Legion on the Badab front were not affected in the slightest: for this reason, the people of the Five Hundred Worlds, and even those Ultramarines of lower rank, did not notice anything unusual about the Primarch.

But among the defenders of Hera Fortress, the Primarch's long-term self-imprisonment, his stubborn refusal to communicate, and the behavior of only reluctantly taking a few small bites of the food handed to him every few days or even ten days, have caused more and more Ultramarines officers to gather at his door with concern.

This situation has lasted for about three to four weeks.

"Does anyone know how long the Primarch's hunger limit is?"

Gage's question caused the Ultramarines officers to look at each other in confusion, until one of them gave a tentative answer.

"Perhaps, we can ask the Dawnbreaker's military attaché stationed in Macragge. It is said that Lady Morgan is keen on having her descendants study the body structure of the Primarch. We should be able to infer from the data they provide that the Dawnbreaker has no reason to refuse this matter."

"It's no use at all."

Someone immediately refuted it.

"That's Ms. Morgan. Do you think she will test questions related to [hunger]?"

"I think we should use our own physical data to make a reverse inference: If I remember correctly, there was a battle brother in the Third Regiment who maintained a high-intensity battle for two weeks without eating at all. This can be used as evidence..."

"This is totally useless. How can the Primarch's physical condition be consistent with ours?"

"Not to mention fake death..."

"If that's the case, we should break down the door and rush in right now."

"Instead of arguing about these useless data issues here, you should find a way to get the Primarch to allow us to go in: at least let him eat something..."

"Then let Badab..."

"enough!"

Gage clenched his teeth and with a stern growl, he suppressed all the noise in the corridor in the blink of an eye: As the second-in-command of the legion after the Primarch, Gage's status was often higher than that of the four heroes whom Kili regarded as his deputies.

Because of this, he was in charge of Macragge during the Council of Nikea and did not suffer the sudden disaster caused by the Thousand Sons Legion: but he did not think this was a good thing, especially when the subsequent impact of the Nikea incident was gradually spreading throughout the Ultramarines Legion and even the entire Macragge.

Apart from anything else, the loss of hundreds of elite officers including Yingjie was unacceptable: Gage glanced at the faces in front of him, which were either unwilling or guilty, and felt a kind of strangeness and loneliness in them that was difficult to describe in words.

The owners of these helmets, these ranks, these positions and status were originally brothers who shared life and death with him, but now they are all inexperienced juniors: he did not expect that just a short separation would separate him from hundreds of old friends who had shared life and death with him.

Thinking of this, Gage looked at the few old faces: Auguston turned a deaf ear to everyone's commotion. He stood in front of the original body's door like a sculpture, his face as gloomy as if he were a dead man.

On the other side, Orfeo, who had just inherited the position of Hero, and Ptolemy, the chief think tank of the Legion, stood very close to each other. They seemed to be thinking seriously about whether to disobey the order from the Primarch and use their swords and psychic powers to force open the door.

"Hey……"

Gage heard himself sigh.

He could feel that a gloomy atmosphere was gradually enveloping the Ultramarines, which had been high-spirited. This atmosphere was not only because of Badab, but also because of Nikea, whose memory had long been erased: Nikea, who caused hundreds of their proud battle brothers to die in unclear circumstances.

In fact, thinking about this, Gage could more or less understand why his genetic father was so out of control: he had lost so many of his beloved offspring for no reason, and now not only did he not have the power to track down the murderer, he was even deprived of the right to remember the cause of death of his offspring.

If it were him, he would probably do what Lord Guilliman did, and after hearing the information from the Badab front, he would give the order to confront Terra without hesitation, right?

It’s a pity that this order is bound to cause endless troubles for Macragge.

The Primarch should have realized this as well.

Gage lowered his head in pain, but he knew he couldn't just fall down. He was the second-in-command appointed by the Primarch, and he needed to come up with a solution for the Legion at this time: at least he had to get the man in the room who could come up with a solution out first, or stabilize him.

Well, in that case, there seems to be only one answer for him to ask for help.

"How long will it take for Ms. Euden to arrive?"

The Chapter Master turned slightly to ask the attendant standing behind him.

"It should be these few minutes."

The attendant answered fluently.

"Ms. Euton just said goodbye to Ms. Keliphany, the envoy sent by Lord Perturabo, fifteen minutes ago. It is said that the two of them have signed a new cooperation agreement, which cannot be made public for the time being because of the impact on Holy Terra."

"Damn it Terra!"

Before Gage could say anything, a curse filled with immense resentment came from the direction of Auguston: the face of this most reckless extreme warrior had become as distorted as a demon in mythology, his upper and lower teeth were gritting, and veins bulged on his clenched fists.

"Fuck Terra!"

"A bunch of eggless bastards—"

"..." The voice was so angry, and the anger was so pure that it didn't care about the meaning of the words or his position at all: Gage heard every word clearly.

Then, the Chapter Master of the First Chapter of the Ultramarines, who was also the oldest Terran veteran still alive in the Legion, instinctively narrowed his eyes, a hint of disgust and hostility flashed across his pupils, but then disappeared at an astonishing speed.

He ended up saying nothing.

Turning around, Gage tried hard to ignore the emotions surging among all the Ultramarines officers behind him because of Auguston's angry roar: it was the resentment towards Holy Terra, and it was a torrent that released all the grievances and dissatisfactions.

That was a wave that no one could resist.

Whether it's him or the original body.

The Terra veteran shook his head and sighed silently.

No matter what: things are going to change for the Ultramarines and the Five Hundred Worlds this time.

I hope this is not what Terra meant.

after all……

------

“This is so stupid.”

Amid the respectful manners and expectant eyes of hundreds of Ultramarines, the Lord Chamberlain of Macragge pushed open the small door designed specifically for her, carrying a basket of dishes she had just made, and ignoring the Primarch's orders, she marched menacingly into Guilliman's kingdom of silence.

"Very, very stupid."

She repeated it again: there was a mother's severity in her voice.

"Because of other people's mistakes, because of the stupidity that others have done to you, you are going to turn around and destroy your body? I don't remember teaching you such a stupid way of dealing with things: no matter how bad things get, they will never be worse than your own body breaking down."

"Robert!"

"Are you listening to me?"

Ms. Yuton walked forward in the cobalt blue darkness. She did not immediately fumble for the button to control the light because she was so familiar with this office: more than a hundred years ago, she accompanied the then Regent Connor day after day to handle the government affairs of Macragge here, and later, the person she was responsible for accompanying became her son.

Lady Euton immediately looked towards the throne where the Primarch sat in his daily life: the thinker in front of the marble chair was still shining, and the neatly placed documents on both sides showed that the Primarch had been fulfilling his responsibilities, but he himself was not sitting in front of the light.

The Lord of Palace Affairs stretched his neck, his eyes moving among the portraits of kings in gold frames. Finally, he found the giant that everyone was dreaming about, at the foot of the shadow of King Connor riding a horse to kill the enemy.

Guilliman was standing there, in front of the only window in the room, which overlooked the main city of Macragge: the dim moonlight at night and the gradually extinguished lights in the main city passed through time and space, shining on the solemn face of the Primarch, illuminating his tall nose and withered golden hair, his pupils that had lost their luster, and the distressing layers of wrinkles under his eye sockets.

"Robert!"

Ms. Yuton didn't care about anything else and immediately ran towards her children. Her steps were so hurried that she even forgot that she was still wearing a long dress that needed to be worn carefully in diplomatic occasions. Before she took a few steps, at least fifty or sixty meters away from the original body, Ms. Yuton stumbled and fell to the ground.

But the pain did not come, and warm hands supported the Palace Master: her children helped her up respectfully, walked all the way to the sofa in the middle of the room, and then casually pressed the light button.

"I'm fine, Ms. Euton."

It was obvious that Lord Macragge was trying his best to appear more calm, but his overly pale face and the fatigue in his voice that made Lady Euton feel distressed mercilessly betrayed the Primarch's current terrible condition.

"Don't tell lies, child: you know you can never deceive me."

"..."

Guilliman lowered his head, speechless.

And Euden stretched out her fingers and stroked Guilliman's cheek with heartache: her son had become so old now, with white spots at the corners of his mouth due to lack of rest for a long time and excessive psychological pressure. A few strands of dry and yellow hair either lazily draped on his earlobes or covered his full forehead.

The primarch mother combed them out, grooming her children as usual.

As she took care of it, she spoke in the softest voice that Guilliman could remember, patiently waiting for the fatigue in the Primarch's eyes to fade away.

"Tell me, Robert."

"What exactly are you worried about?"

"..."

Guilliman covered his face and almost curled up in his seat, remaining in this position, silent for a long, long time.

He did not speak, nor did he make any breathing or sobbing sounds, until Lady Euden approached with concern, she heard her son talking to himself, the sound was so faint that it did not sound like that of the Primarch, but more like that of a crying child.

"Ms. Euton..."

"Why……"

"Why do you say that..."

"Why...are they all asking me to become an enemy of Terra?"

"Why...why do we have to be the one who disobeys?"

"Why……"

"Why can't we accommodate Terra?"

"Why can't Terra accommodate us?"

"Why...they all want it so much..."

"war……"

"independent……"

“And cannibalism.”