Warhammer: Filial Piety Makes Power

Chapter 232 Echoes of Darkness, Loyalty Beyond Words!

027, M42.

When the Terra Expeditionary Force, having overcome numerous hardships and dangers, was engaged in fierce battle with the relentless Thousand Sons on the moon.

The Imperial Regent, the great Robert Guilliman, walked out of the palace gates and sat alone on the Path of Glory in front of the palace.

Time flies, and 1 years have passed. The empire that once dominated the Great Crusade and single-handedly destroyed the entire galaxy no more. Only a decaying giant, riddled with disease and barely clinging to life, remains.

Through the meticulously wiped steps, Guilliman saw himself; he had forgotten how long it had been since he had laughed.

That ambitious guy with the short blond hair, who was teased by all his brothers, now only has numbness in his eyes.

"The Four Idiot Vendors, the Idiot Emperor, the Idiot Royal Guard, the Idiot High Lords, and the Idiot Astartes Codex."

Damn it, I wrote that stupid Astartes Codex, and I'm an idiot too!

Are you blind? Can't you see the words "For reference only"? You insist on clinging to that book and sticking to your own ideas, insisting that ancestral laws cannot be changed. Well, those are the ancestral laws, aren't they?

The thought that even the Great Rebellion hadn't crushed the Legion, and that he himself had ended up destroying it, made Guilliman's blood pressure soar.

No, those bastards are riding all over you, can't you fight them? Even if it's a rebellion! I can understand that, but you have to go through with this damned crusade for redemption.

Dorn is right, Vulcan is right, and even Ruth did nothing wrong, so who is really wrong?
Oh, right! It was the Highlord Council that I established; I was wrong all along.

"Father, why am I the one who survived in the end? I'm so tired all alone, who will help me?"

Guilliman's first thought was of Saint Gilles, but then he inevitably thought of Johnson, which made him feel even worse.

"Let's forget about it, even if it's Ruth."

As Guilliman sat on the steps, his thoughts began to wander. He thought of every one of his 21 brothers, and even of Luo Jia, the traitor.

Looking at the current empire, so ignorant and foolish, abandoning imperial truth and turning to feudal superstition, Guilliman couldn't help but sigh: "Luojia, Luojia, if only you had persevered a little longer, wouldn't that have been better?"

"If you'd just been a little more resolute, I'd drink my old life away and tie Mordred up for you..."

Wait, wasn't Mordred killed by his father a long time ago? And the Eleventh was wiped from the data along with him. I clearly remember that their legions were absorbed by the Ultramarines and the Imperial Fist.

Two conflicting thoughts raced through his mind. After confirming that he wasn't that madman Kotz, Guilliman instinctively swung his elbow, something he did whenever his thoughts were in turmoil.

But this time things didn't get better; instead, they seemed to be getting worse. A big, blond guy with a wicked grin flashed before my eyes.

"Death, tool, traitor, number 13, son, ambitious, Gatanothor, centaur, second son, talking device!!!"

The Emperor's incoherent voice echoed in Guilliman's ears, clearly indicating that his father, who had been tormented by the Golden Throne for millennia, had gone mad.

After eliminating any ambitious claims that were clearly slanderous, Guilliman focused on several key phrases:

"The second son should be referring to Mordred, but what is Gatanothor? And what about that talking device?"

"Gatanothor is a monster that fights for the light in children's hearts and a protector of humanity determined to defeat the evil Ultraman."

"Seriously, Guilliman, you've really made something of yourself these days! You even have a star badge on your chest."

The sudden sound made Guilliman look up and see the mysterious hooded figure in front of him. Even though they were in the forbidden area of ​​the palace, this mysterious figure was standing straight in front of him.

"Who are you? Why are you hiding your face? Why not show your true self?"

"Oh, since you've asked so sincerely, I'll mercifully tell you."

As a strange misheard phrase, "Auntie pressing on Auntie," rang out, the mysterious person ripped off their robes, struck an odd pose, and loudly chanted:
"I am Rambo, the Lord of the Green Grasslands, Chieftain of Atlas, my master's most beloved disciple, possessing the bloodline of the gods, the last heir of the Wayne Clan, the King of Ten Thousand Dogs, and the leader of the Eight Dogmen!"

"..."

"Holy shit, dog!"

Upon hearing this, Rambo's mouth opened slightly, and it raised its thick arm and slapped him across the face.

"You dog, you're the dog! My Rambo family has been favored by the Emperor for generations. In terms of position, I am a military officer personally recommended by the Emperor. In terms of seniority, I returned to the Empire earlier than you and have fought in the entire Great Expedition."

You're just an ambitious guy who keeps saying "I'll be there in nine hours, I'll be there in nine hours," but you only arrived after the whole rebellion was over, and you still have the nerve to call me a dog!

"You dare to challenge me?" Lies don't hurt, but the truth is the sharpest knife. Guilliman fell silent.

For some reason, when he looked at the strange creature in front of him, which was clearly an alien, he was not angry at the slap he had received, but instead felt a sense of joy.

In this day and age, even in front of his own offspring, Guilliman always felt out of place. Only with this strange dog that called himself Rambo did he feel a sense of kinship.

This awakened a strange memory, and tears involuntarily streamed from the corners of my mouth.

A still-chilled dessert appeared on the dog's paw, and Guilliman, without a word, picked up the plate and put it in his mouth.

"How's it going? It's delicious!"

"Mmm, it tastes just like my mother's."

Watching Guilliman being tortured by the instruments of torture called the Empire, yet forced to endure it silently, Rambo couldn't help but sigh.
"This is what Mrs. Yoton made, your favorite Macurag specialty snack - Coconut Pops."

I know you have many questions to ask, but my time is running out. But don't worry, I will stay by your side in the days to come, until that forgotten history returns.

However, according to the master, it should be grafting.

Although I'm rather disdainful, what can I do when you're the only one available? Even Ruth would be better than you, who's still a psionic Muggle.

That's good, though, since a psionic Muggle like you won't experience any rejection reaction.

And what kind of look is that? And what are those tears?
Keep your spirits up, don't embarrass yourself! Next to enter the battlefield is the Crimson King, the One-Eyed Sunburnt Eugrim Magnus. You'd better beat him to his knees!

Remember, hope remains!

No sooner had he finished speaking than Rambo turned into a handful of ashes, which landed squarely on Guilliman's eyes.

The sudden attack caught Guilliman off guard. An indescribable, intense pain seemed to tear him apart. In a daze, he thought he saw his mother waving to him.

But why does this mother look so strong? She's almost as big as an Alpha, and she's carrying a giant axe.

"Radish, cheer up and don't embarrass yourself! You'll always be Mom's proudest child."

"Mother, I..."

Startled awake, Guilliman cried out. There was no giant, talking dog in front of him, only the Imperial Guards and Calgar who had come running at the sound of his voice. But Guilliman knew it was not an illusion.

"Father, how are you?"

"It's nothing, I'm just too tired."

Seeing the Honor Guard already laid out on a stretcher, Guilliman waved his hand, signaling them to put the thing down quickly, "I'm not dead yet."

"Hey Calga, do you have a lighter?"

It is an honor for all Space Marines to share the burden of the Father of Genetics, but even such a small request is something he cannot do. Frustrated by the lack of a lighter, Calgar immediately ordered his men to find one.

But a hand covered in golden armor reached out from behind, and with a crisp snap, a small flame appeared in front of Guilliman.

"Force?"

"Yes, Your Highness, but I prefer you to call me Kitty."

Guilliman nodded, raised his hand, and looked at the cigarette that had appeared in his hand at some point, bearing a grinning dog's head and even a dangerous symbol that was forbidden for minors.

Without hesitation, Guilliman threw the cigarette into his mouth. As a cloud of smoke rose, not only Guilliman, but everyone saw a terrifying demon bound by chains, ultimately crushed to ashes by emerald green lightning.

Until the moment of its demise, the demon's hideous face showed no pain; instead, it embraced death like a saint.

"Hey ha, I've lived up to the Legion's expectations, for the grand plan!"

The spark known as Fel Energy reignited after ten thousand years, condensing the essence of a bloodthirsty madman's power and flowing into Guilliman's body. Only the blessing of that demon, or perhaps the echoes of the universe, resonated in this sacred place of the palace.

"This is power!"

Three minutes later, an urgent telegram arrived from Terra Starport: Primarch Magnus had appeared on the moon!
"Mother, I will prove to you that I am not a coward!"

(End of this chapter)