“Yes, it has only just begun.”
A gentle yet powerful voice rang out right beside his ear.
The Chaos veteran looked up in horror, realizing Guilliman had somehow appeared directly before him.
The Primarch’s towering form stood backlit against Macragge’s sun, the sunlight gilding his majestic silhouette in brilliant gold.
His newly grown black hair fluttered in the light, and his azure eyes—clearer than the sky and deeper than the ocean—shone brilliantly, as if carrying all the hopes of mankind.
*This light…
He is like a son of the sun…
a son of hope…*
That was the final thought in the veteran’s mind.
In the next instant, Guilliman’s fist struck out.
There was no psychic glare, no flashy techniques—only the purest, most ultimate brute force.
This veteran, who had struggled through ten thousand years in the chaos and darkness of the Warp, was turned entirely into powder along with his heavily corrupted armor under a single punch.
His soul might return to the Warp.
Yet what awaited him would certainly not be rewards from the Dark Gods, but more likely the holy flames of the Emperor’s ancient, burning rage, reducing him to absolute nothingness.
Guilliman moved at a speed far beyond the limits of visual tracking.
He traversed the battlefield like a streak of blue lightning.
Wherever he passed, the minions of Chaos melted like snow before a furnace.
Countless Ultramarines followed fanatically behind him, bathed in the glory of their Primarch’s return.
With a momentum ten times fiercer and a hundred times more zealous than before, they tore apart the enemies that had previously pressed them hard.
War cries, the thunder of bolters, and the hum of power weapons melded into a tempestuous paean dedicated to their gene-father.
Just then, an even heavier roar of engines descended from above!
Everyone looked up to see an exceptionally massive Thunderhawk gunship.
Like a dark cloud of death, it loomed over the shattered dome, its armor displaying gruesome Chaos symbols that glowed with an ominous red light.
According to scanning signals, it carried at least a hundred of the most fanatical Chaos shock troops!
“Father!”
Calgar rushed to Guilliman’s side, pointing his power fist toward the sky, his tone urgent and resolute.
“Let us blow them down with ground anti-air cannons and Whirlwind missiles!”
Guilliman slowly shook his head, casting him a comforting smile.
“No need, my child. Leave something like this to me.”
Before his words even finished, beneath the incredulous gazes of everyone present—loyal sons and desperate traitors alike—
Roboute Guilliman, the Lord of Ultramar, slowly lifted his feet off the ground and floated into the air without any support whatsoever!
“The Primarch… is flying?!”
“How is this possible?!”
“Wasn’t it said… that only Sanguinius, the perfect Primarch of the Blood Angels, possessed winged flight?!”
“Is it psychic power? Some powerful Librarians can use psychic energy to hover briefly…”
As everyone looked on in shock and doubt, the Chief Librarian stumbled forward.
The psychic flames in his eyes flickered violently, his voice trembling with excitement and a deeper realization:
“No… it isn’t psychic power! This is absolutely not psychic power! I cannot feel a single ripple from the Warp! Our Primarch… he is truly flying under his own power!”
Guilliman hovered in mid-air like a sovereign god overlooking the world.
He looked down at the countless sons gazing up at him, his voice clear, resonant, and inspiring as it echoed across the entire battlefield:
“My children! With me leading you, we shall charge once again! We have been separated for ten thousand years. Now is the moment for father and sons to reunite! For my first gift upon our meeting, allow me to flip these Chaos warships for you!”
He spoke in the sky, a signature, approachable smile on his face.
Every Ultramarine—warriors whose hearts had been hardened like iron by ten thousand years of endless war—felt a warm current enfold and soften their souls against their will.
What was this feeling?
Was it emotion?
Was it glory?
Or was it the absolute sense of security derived from being protected by a powerful father?
Their Primarch was going to battle personally for them, going to destroy those three seemingly invincible Chaos warships!
Guilliman said no more.
Inside the vessel, a veteran Chaos marine monitoring the window spotted Guilliman rapidly approaching.
He uttered a twisted scream: “Impossible! Primarchs can’t fly! I’ve seen him! I saw Roboute Guilliman ten thousand years ago! He is powerful, but he could never do this! No Primarch can!”
Yet reality ruthlessly shattered his perception.
Guilliman was already right in front of him!
Extreme terror turned into the madness of mutual destruction.
The veteran roared and shoved the control stick forward.
He intended to crash this Thunderhawk gunship—packed with a hundred Chaos Space Marines—straight into the ground like a meteor!
Even if they were crushed to pieces, he would make Guilliman and more Ultramarines pay the price!
However, the instant the gunship began its dive, Guilliman’s hand pressed firmly against the forward armor of the Thunderhawk!
Originating from the Viltrumite Regent Thragg, the “Smart Atoms” within his body surged frantically, acting upon reality in tandem with his will.
Although this ability lacked the absolute conceptual force of a Kryptonian bio-electric aura, it was more than enough for him to perform miracles that defied conventional physics!
An incredible sight unfolded—the diving Thunderhawk gunship, carrying immense kinetic momentum, was brought to a complete, perfectly stable halt in mid-air by Guilliman using a single hand!
The hull didn’t even suffer structural damage, as if it had been stationary all along!
An Ultramarine who had studied under the Adeptus Mechanicus and possessed extensive knowledge of physics witnessed this scene that defied every rule of mechanics.
His knees went weak, and he fell to the ground, muttering under his breath as his worldview nearly collapsed.
Even Belisarius Cawl, with all his vast experience, had his mechanical optical sensors flashing frantically.
His data streams fell into utter disarray, leaving him capable of emitting only meaningless vox-static:
“Impossible… This… mass… momentum… Has physics ceased to exist?!”
Meanwhile, in the air, Guilliman had already begun his next move.
He clenched his other fist tightly and slammed it mercilessly into the Thunderhawk’s side armor!
*BOOM!!*
The thick armor plating caved inward and tore open at the impact!
Guilliman grabbed the edges of the breach with both hands.
Accompanied by the agonizing screech of twisting metal, he used sheer, unadulterated strength to tear the massive gunship in half like opening a tin can!
Before the exposed Chaos Space Marines inside could react, Guilliman grabbed one half of the wrecked hull.
Using it as a colossal throwing weapon, he hurled it forcefully toward the remaining two approaching Thunderhawk gunships!