The flaxen robe drifted slowly through Guilliman's Shrine.
Tigurius only smelled the wind and incense, and then these scents gently swept over his body.
He felt a low hum from his power armor, and his entire body tilted towards the ground.
Malcador's staff drew an arc on the ground, then landed beneath a marble pillar not far away.
Tigurius raised his head, bewildered and in pain, wanting to see clearly how his attack had been neutralized.
The night wind silently swept through Guilliman's Shrine, and the sound of the flaxen robe swaying in the wind reminded Tigurius of the waves crashing against the city-states on Macragge.
It was a figure Tigurius didn't know how to describe.
It was a figure even taller than Tigurius, draped in a flowing flaxen robe, as if a hermit returned from a mountaintop monastery, with white snow melting from his robe, leaving only purity, tranquility, and holiness.
As if a faint glow enveloped him, not light from the real universe, but light from the Warp, yet untainted by defilement.
Like a midnight meteor of hope streaking through a universe of eternal darkness and endless war.
"Who are you?"
Tigurius asked the figure in the flaxen robe, his voice hoarse:
"Who exactly are you?!"
The figure remained silent, simply turning his head to look at Robert Guilliman, who sat enthroned.
With his movement, the silver chains on his body jingled softly, clear as bells.
The figure gazed at Robert Guilliman's body, his eyes seemingly fixed on the fresh wound on his neck.
"Do you know? Rational and sensible people are often better at recognizing the darkness and cruelty of reality."
"Hope is merely a fleeting illusion, happiness is just the beginning of tragedy; nothing beautiful is eternal, and no sorrow is brief."
"Therefore, the more rational, sensible, and clear-headed a person is, the less they will believe in ideals, hope, dreams, or a better future."
The figure in the flaxen robe tilted his head slightly, seemingly looking at the hidden presence beside him, and also at Tigurius.
"But Robert Guilliman is different. He knows with utmost clarity how cruel reality is, and deep down, he has long realized the grim future the galaxy is destined for."
"Yet, he remains stubbornly an idealist at heart. The teachings of King Konor and Lady Euten are truly astonishing."
Tigurius was awestruck by these words.
The emotions conveyed in the words of the flaxen robe made Tigurius' soul tremble; he seemed to hear a voice from ten thousand years ago.
However, this emotion was quickly dispelled.
Because the hidden presence suddenly spoke.
"I truly wish Lady Euten were still alive; the Human Emperor should really crawl off the Golden Throne and bow to her."
"And properly learn from her methods of parenting—though this would be an over-the-top subject for the Human Emperor."
At this point, the hidden presence chuckled softly:
"Perhaps he should first learn from the she-wolf who raised Leman Russ; that way, the lesson would be closer to his current level."
"Hmm, it turns out that even Leman Russ' wolf-mother understood parenting better than the Human Emperor."
The words of the hidden presence made the flaxen robe also let out a burst of laughter.
Then, a pinkish-red wooden door suddenly appeared in mid-air.
Sylandri Shadowseer, hiding to the side, suddenly had her eyes light up, and she stepped forward, leaping towards the wooden door without hesitation.
Tigurius quickly realized that the wooden door was their escape route.
He abruptly mobilized his Psyker power, swiftly pulling Malcador's staff from beneath the marble pillar.
This staff, which once belonged to the hero Malcador, merged with Tigurius' Psyker power, and raw Psyker energy surged from his flesh and blood body.
In an instant, Tigurius transformed into a silver-blue torrent of Empyrean' might, surging towards the pinkish-red wooden door.
A broad, sharp longsword blocked Tigurius' path.
It was a bronze-colored power sword, inlaid with scarlet gems and the Eye of Terra, as long as a mortal, and its broad blade was as wide as an Astartes' palm.
Tigurius gasped.
That was the Emperor's Sword, the Emperor's former personal weapon!
That longsword, which once belonged to the Human Emperor, had rested on Robert Guilliman's lap for ten thousand years, unlit.
Now, at some unknown moment, it was held in the hand of the figure in the flaxen robe.
The figure looked at Tigurius impassively, then gently raised the Emperor's Sword in his hand.
Damn—
A sound like wildfire burning on a desolate grassland arose.
Scorching flames danced on the longsword, spewing arcs of smoke, fire, and Psyker energy, dazzling like the sun.
Ten thousand years later, the Emperor's Sword was ignited once more.
Tigurius was greatly shaken; the figure of the Human Emperor seemed to manifest within the star-like burning longsword.
"Son of Guilliman, will you still advance?"
A majestic voice rang out from the mouth of the flaxen robe, and Tigurius' figure was abruptly cast from the Warp back into reality.
He involuntarily knelt on one knee, gazing up at the figure in the flaxen robe with awe.
At the same time, the pinkish-red wooden door was gently pushed open.
The figure in the flaxen robe lowered the Emperor's Sword in his hand and suddenly threw it towards Robert Guilliman.
Tigurius was startled, almost crying out.
However, the Emperor's Sword extinguished in mid-air, landing squarely on Guilliman's knee.
Then, he, the Harlequin, and the hidden presence instantly vanished through the door.
Tigurius watched this scene with a chaotic mind; he had never felt so bewildered.
Just then, faint footsteps were heard from outside the shrine.
Tigurius was silent for a moment, then sighed softly.
He waved the staff of the hero Malcador in his hand, and everything around him returned to its original state, and the Psyker chains entwined at the entrance also unbound.
Before long, seven Honor Guards entered Guilliman's Shrine, and the leading sergeant bowed slightly to Tigurius.
"Chief Librarian, sir, we are here for the rotation."
Tigurius nodded in return.
Then, the sergeant seemed to vaguely sense something; he looked around with some surprise.
"Tigurius, sir... did something happen just now?" he asked.
Tigurius paused slightly.
He remembered the scorching, ignited Emperor's Sword.
"No, nothing happened," he replied softly.
After Sanguinius and Sylandri Shadowseer retreated into their four-dimensional pockets, Alexander quickly returned to the glory blade Strike Cruiser, silently blending back into the Expeditionary Force.
But Alexander did not show himself; relying on the effect of Blind Spot Star, he temporarily hid in everyone's blind spot.
Because upon his return, he noticed that Yvraine was talking to Archmagos Belisarius Cawl about something.
Alexander trusted Belisarius Cawl, but he did not trust Yvraine as much.
Although Alexander was happy to make jokes about the Regent's consort and knew that Yvraine and Sylandri Shadowseer, whom he had captured, were among the few normal ones among those Eldar bastards,
But the Eldar god of death, Ynnead, behind Yvraine was a big problem and held many secrets; even the Eldar god Cegorach cooperated with him holding his nose.
Alexander naturally could not fully trust him, nor could he fully trust Yvraine, who was guided by him.
Thinking this, Alexander stood quietly beside Yvraine and Belisarius Cawl, listening to their conversation.
"..Your technology is indeed excellent, but that cargo can only heal the Primarch's physical body, and we all know that the true damage lies in the soul."
Yvraine's voice was cold and somber, as if coming from a realm unreachable by the living:
"You cannot complete your task alone, to awaken that sleeping Son of Vengeance."
The muscles on Belisarius Cawl's remaining half-face twitched slightly; he lowered his head to gaze at Yvraine.
"What is your opinion, Xenos?"
Yvraine was somewhat surprised that Belisarius Cawl had so easily accepted her opinion.
But she continued to speak in her somber voice:
"I serve the Eldar god of death, the divine lord who presides over the cycle of life and death. He has the authority to obscure death and reverse life and death."
Belisarius Cawl's eyes flickered with streams of data, seemingly evaluating whether Yvraine's words were correct.
Yvraine evidently did not mind helping Cawl make a judgment quickly.
"You may know that there are many domains in the Warp, and not every domain is occupied by the four unspeakable ones."
"Among them, one domain was born from life's fear and expectation of death, born from the destiny that all things will eventually lead to destruction; all deaths will return to that domain."
"And we, the god of death Ynnead, occupy a part of that domain. Beings given death by Him personally will return to the part He controls. He can use this to obscure death, allowing that one to walk among the living again."
"This can only be achieved by me, using the old crone sword to channel Ynnead's power; otherwise, his soul will be uncontrollably corroded by the power of the God of Hunger."
More information flickered in Belisarius Cawl's eyes; he clearly knew that Yvraine's words were not a lie.
But...
But this meant that this Xenos witch had to personally kill Robert Guilliman, allowing the Primarch's death to return to the domain of the Xenos god...
Belisarius Cawl was temporarily unable to make a judgment.
Yvraine seemed to believe that Belisarius Cawl would not refuse this proposal, so she said no more and silently retreated into the dark corner.
Alexander, observing this scene, did not step out directly to speak, but quietly calmed himself, trying to extend his consciousness towards Belisarius Cawl.
Theoretically, Belisarius Cawl, whose body was mostly mechanical, would also be affected by the power Alexander had acquired from the Malicious Art domain.
The stream of information surging in Belisarius Cawl's eyes suddenly stuttered, and his entire body shuddered.