Warhammer: Open the door! Human League players!

Chapter 157 The Two Primal Bodies, Exhausted

"The war has been won!"

With the final battle of Terra concluded, a grand victory parade was held as scheduled to appease the people, announce the great victory in the stars, and revitalize the morale of the Empire, which had been languishing for millennia.

The flames of war in the stars have ceased, and the banners of the Holy City are raised once more. Guilliman and Feralus walk side by side on the sacred path of Terra, receiving the admiration and praise of the entire city's soldiers and civilians.

The grand procession stretched across the entire holy Terra, with triumphant warriors, solemnly standing guards, and jubilant crowds converging into a torrent. The repression and despair that had been suppressed for millennia dissipated, and long-lost high hopes once again filled the entire sacred land of humanity.

After the victory parade concluded, the two original inhabitants returned to the majestic and solemn Terra Palace and ascended the central platform for the grand ceremony.

The Senate of Terra, the Imperial Council, the Supreme Command of the Imperial Guard, and all the major dignitaries of the Interior, Military and Political Departments were present to witness this grand investiture ceremony, which would determine the future fate of the Empire.

Under the watchful eyes of all and the witness of all powers, the divine miracle of the Holy Emperor once again descended upon Terra.

Vast golden spiritual energy descended from the sacred dome, illuminating the palace with heavenly light. The emperor's supreme will resounded throughout heaven and earth, personally determining the destiny in the name of sacred orthodoxy.

With the emperor's divine intervention as proof and the whole country as witness, Guilliman was officially crowned as the First Regent of the Empire, taking over all power in the central government and holding the fundamental authority of the empire.

Ferrus was simultaneously granted the title of Second Regent of the Empire, assisting the central government, managing the overall situation, and overseeing the Empire's military and political affairs, as well as commanding the fleet and scattered military equipment.

At this moment, all the elders, councilors, imperial guards generals, and high-ranking military and political officials in the court bowed their heads, and no one dared to question or deny it openly.

The power of a dual regent was personally granted by the emperor, was based on law and reason, and was unshakeable in its legitimacy.

With the grand ceremony concluded and power settled, the era of dual regents officially began.

Inside the Imperial Regent's office, Guilliman's imposing figure sat seated on a high throne.

The case files piled up like mountains, with documents stacked one on top of another, densely recording the war damage, territorial fragmentation, collapse of livelihoods, depletion of resources, lingering rebellions, and countless unresolved dilemmas in the vast star regions of the Milky Way.

This marks several days since he officially assumed regency.

The suffocating torrent of government affairs has not diminished over time; instead, it has continued to surge exponentially, layer upon layer.

From the initial composure and patience to calmly and methodically review documents, to the profound shock after witnessing the entire Milky Way riddled with holes and crises everywhere.

Even the resilient Primarch Guilliman, who had borne burdens for millennia, gradually showed signs of weariness under the relentless, high-pressure work schedule.

In order to restore order and function of the shattered imperial system, the two regents quickly clarified responsibilities, divided the system, and established a new military and political structure for the empire.

All Ultramarines' direct legions and all their subordinate legions were brought under Guilliman's direct control and personal command. He reorganized the chapter regulations, repaired the legion system, and completed the combat force structure.

The scattered independent battle groups, independent armed forces, remnants of the defensive forces, and the vast and complex Imperial Star Fleet were all entrusted to Ferrus for sorting, reorganizing, and managing military affairs.

The two original entities each performed their duties and complemented each other, one governing the country and consolidating its foundation, and the other guarding the army and securing the borders.

The empire's colossal machine, stagnant for millennia, decaying and on the verge of collapse, finally began to slowly turn again under the leadership and cooperation of the two regents.

Its operation remains sluggish and cumbersome, with countless hidden dangers and scars buried deep within its structure. But at least, this human empire on the verge of extinction has broken free from the fate of complete collapse and is steadily moving towards recovery and rebirth amidst the devastated ruins.

Even though the central order has been restored, the two regents are still faced with a near-unsolvable impasse in the galaxy.

After the violent upheavals of the Chaos Cataclysm and the Final War, the subspace passages of the entire galaxy were almost completely sealed off.

A violent warp storm blocked the starry sky, tearing apart the communication and navigation networks that the human empire had maintained for millennia.

More than 70% of the Empire's colonies, garrison systems, and industrial worlds have been completely cut off, all interstellar communication across the entire region has been interrupted, and interstellar communication across star systems has been completely paralyzed.

The human empire of today resembles a colossal giant with broken bones.

The central command, located on Terra, wields supreme power and the remaining military force, yet has completely lost its perception and control over the vast galactic empire. Government orders cannot leave the country, military intelligence cannot be transmitted back, supplies cannot circulate, and order cannot be established.

There is a central hub restarting, but no territory to control; there are machines running, but no channels to connect.

Just then, footsteps sounded in the hall, and Ferrus entered the Regent's Palace, going straight to Guilliman's side.

Guilliman looked up, his expression grave, and spoke first.

"How is the current reorganization of the Imperial military going? Is the consolidation of military power and the reorganization of garrisons proceeding smoothly?"

Upon hearing the question, Feralus answered slowly, his tone calm yet sharp.

"It's not going smoothly. There are still many restless people within the Empire, especially hereditary nobles and star warlords. They hold private armies and military power, want to escape central orders, and are unwilling to hand over military power and submit to the new policy system."

He paused slightly, his tone indifferent, subtly hinting at the ending.

"I have dealt with these aristocratic forces that obstruct military and political order, hoard military power, and disregard the central government."

As soon as he finished speaking, Felus looked out at the solemn and empty palace corridors, his eyes filled with deep disappointment and coldness, and sighed softly.

"The Iron Legion of the Human Alliance is far more efficient than the Empire's army."

The most powerful force to eliminate those warlords was those iron men.

It was Ferrus who led the robots to cleanse Terra's chronic disease.

After a brief moment of reflection, Ferrus composed himself and returned to his serious military report, his voice regaining its steady and resonant tone.

"I have completely adjusted the strategic direction of the entire army, shifting to a full-scale eradication. Based on the current troop strength, even if we completely abandon the Space Marines and rely solely on the Imperial mortal forces to advance, we can eliminate all remaining demonic aberrations around Terra and completely wipe out the remnants of chaos within the territory in three months at the latest."

"Furthermore, the Human Alliance has agreed to provide full assistance in this cleanup operation. With its advanced military equipment, communication and tactical systems, the cleanup time can be significantly reduced again, and all the chaotic scourges within the Empire can be completely eradicated in as little as one to two weeks."

After the military report was completed, the main hall fell into silence.

Guilliman looked up at his comrade-in-arms and spoke softly, his voice low and heavy.

"Do you want to know what the empire has become now?"

Upon hearing this, Ferrus subconsciously glanced up at the mountain of government files piled up on the large desk, seemingly endless.

A dense array of documents, countless malpractices, and an overwhelming sense of impending doom suddenly came into view.

His pupils narrowed slightly, and he fell silent for a moment.

No need for close inspection; a single glance is enough to reveal the rotten and bloated interior of this ancient empire.

Unwilling to get bogged down in this suffocating quagmire of domestic affairs, Ferrus remained silent for a moment, then turned to leave and continue his familiar work of military reorganization.

But just as he turned around, Guilliman suddenly stood up and grabbed his wrist tightly.

The powers of the two Primarchs clashed suddenly, their invisible psionic energy and physical strength clashing silently within the Regent's Hall, a silent contest erupting forth. The two Primarch powers, each capable of shaking galaxies, locked in a stalemate, and the air in the hall suddenly froze.

After a long silence, Ferrus finally gave in and whispered the truth.

"Guilliman, you're better at this than I am."

Upon hearing this, Guilliman slowly released his hand, his eyes filled with weariness, yet also with determination.

He looked at Feralus, his words deep and resonant.

"We must boost national morale, traverse the stars to reclaim lost territories, restore order and discipline, and revitalize the eternal glory of the human empire."

Ferrus nodded heavily, all hesitation vanishing from his eyes, leaving only pure fighting spirit and determination.

"I'll take care of those troublemakers."

The two locked eyes and saw the whole truth about the empire.

Most of the empire's star systems were cut off from communication, except for the five hundred worlds of Alteramar.

More than 80% of the planets in this star system can still maintain smooth communication with the Terra Central Hub. This unique advantage is entirely due to the advanced communication system built by the Human Alliance.

With this network, Guilliman was able to clearly understand the movements throughout Altramar and firmly grasp all information about this core territory.

Inside the Regent's Palace, Guilliman once again calmed his mind and, using the unimpeded communication links of Alteramar, systematically absorbed and sorted through the remaining star information across the entire empire.

Countless sector reports, administrative files, military archives, records of people's livelihood, rebellion logs, corruption reports, and government orders that had been stalled for thousands of years flooded into his and Felus's senses and vision like a vast and boundless torrent of information.

They truly felt its breathtaking size.

A system stagnant for millennia, a bureaucracy riddled with corruption, rigid and inflexible classes, ignorant and closed-minded thinking, a bureaucratic system that abuses power and is lax, and long-standing malpractices and oversights are like festering sores covering the body of a giant.

Countless star sectors survived by clinging to outdated practices, countless institutions operated rigidly by relying on ignorant dogmas, countless decrees were buried for centuries without being reviewed, and countless instances of corruption, laziness, dereliction of duty, and neglect were buried layer by layer by the long years.

The former glory has long since faded away. From the administrative system to grassroots governance, from military deployment to the maintenance of people's livelihood, the very fabric of the empire's civilization has long since begun to decay and wither from its very roots.

What weighed heavily on the minds of the two Primarchs was the Empire's deeply entrenched and intractable bloat.

The system is overly complex, with overlapping and chaotic responsibilities, endless layers of hierarchy, and cumbersome and suffocating processes. A single government order requires approval from dozens of departments at each level, an urgent border report requires years of reporting across star sectors, and disaster relief efforts are indefinitely delayed by countless procedures.

It is too big, too old, too heavy, and too messy.

It is so large that it is difficult to manage across the entire area; so corrupt that it is difficult to eradicate completely; so bloated that it cannot be sorted out overnight.

Guilliman and Firus stared at each other in silence, a deep chill settling over their hearts.

External enemies can be fought and eliminated, but the inherent decay of civilization, the bloated systems accumulated over time, and the chronic diseases that have accumulated over the years are the most difficult to eradicate.

It was precisely because they had thoroughly seen through the empire's broken, bloated, and corrupt state that their resolve became completely solidified and unwavering.

If we truly want to save the galaxy and revive human civilization, we cannot sit idly by and wait for death, nor can we cling to Terra and live a life of complacency.

Only a distant expedition can break the deadlock.

Having been saved, Angron stepped out of the Imperial Palace, but instead of leaving through the grand main gate, he slowly made his way along a secluded path guided by his attendant.

The imperial guards on duty along the way looked at him, their eyes filled with deep vigilance and old hostility, but none of them dared to step forward or make a move.

At this moment, Angron has been completely pardoned and forgiven by the Emperor and all those in charge of the Empire. No one in the world is qualified to judge his past.

The excruciating pain that had lingered deep within his bones and burned his soul for millennia finally vanished completely.

The Butcher's Nail that had imprisoned him for life was uprooted, and all the filth and stains left by the chaos were cleansed away with the end of the final battle on Terra.

The demon prince, once consumed by rage and endless torment, the killing puppet nurtured by the chaos of warp, has vanished.

At this moment, he broke free from all constraints, shed all distortions, returned to his origin, and became the pure and authentic Primarch Angron.

For the first time in thousands of years, he did not have to endure the excruciating torture of being slowly sliced ​​to pieces, nor was he consumed by uncontrollable rage, nor did he have to rely on endless slaughter to numb his soul from the ceaseless torment.

A gentle breeze wafted through the towering columns of Terra Palace, softly brushing against his upright figure.

This was a tenderness he had never touched in his millennia of despair. Once upon a time, all he saw was a blood-red prairie fire and flames burning the sky, all he heard were earth-shattering battle cries and wailing across the wilderness. His world was filled with endless pain, deep-seated hatred, and ceaseless slaughter.

Violence completely blinded all his senses. The beauty, peace, and gentleness that ordinary people could easily obtain were, at that time, unattainable and completely foreign luxuries to him.

Now, he could clearly feel the cool warmth in the air, hear the distant chatter and steady footsteps of the imperial soldiers and civilians, and see the clear sunlight gently falling and covering the solemn palace walls.

These simple, everyday scenes of human life are a vibrant, precious new beginning for Angron, who has endured eternal torment and sank into the abyss of chaos.

He finally regained his true freedom.

This is not the freedom of a warrior bound by the shackles of the battlefield and unable to control his own destiny, nor is it the freedom of a demon succumbing to the warp and being manipulated by chaos. Rather, it is the purest and cleanest freedom that belongs entirely to him and to Angron himself.

He no longer lives for deep-seated hatred, no longer goes mad with endless pain, and no longer is swept along by the tragedy of fate and the betrayals of the past.

His soul, taut for millennia, suddenly relaxed, and the violent killing intent that had settled deep within his bloodline and soul slowly faded away. A long-lost peace filled his mind, which had been empty for millennia. Real touch, a peaceful state of mind, and a stable world all flooded into his senses.

Angron strolled slowly through the streets and alleys of Terra, gently stroking the delicate stone patterns of the magnificent ancient buildings.

The wall's engravings, varying in depth and texture, embody the life's work and exquisite craftsmanship of Terra's top artisans. His fingertips slowly traced the marks, a genuine emotion welling up in his eyes, a heartfelt admiration for the enduring power of human civilization.

In his eyes, these ingenious city-state structures were the most breathtaking and moving art in the world. He murmured softly, praising them sincerely again and again, his gaze lingering on every brick and tile in the streets and alleys, every carving on the walls, intoxicated by the ingenuity and gentleness that belonged unique to human civilization.

The entire city is engaged in a massive post-disaster reconstruction project. Giant, shattered stones are being slowly removed from the ruins, and the scarred rock walls and broken reliefs will be restored to their original glory through the combined efforts of millions of people.

No one dared to order him around, nor did anyone dare to ask this former Lord of Slaughter, who once made the stars tremble, to lend a hand. Yet, Angron still took the initiative to step into these ruins, bowing and scraping, and silently participating in the restoration and reconstruction of Terra.

People on both sides of the street stopped and stood gazing at the towering figure from afar, their hearts filled with doubt and curiosity, but no one stepped forward.

His movements were gentle and meticulous, without the slightest slackening.

A rich and powerful Primal psionic energy flowed slowly and gently, covering every crack in the stone wall. The lines torn by war...

The damage from the chaos and the details from the shattering of artillery fire were all restored and renewed under the gentle nourishment of psionic energy.

This exquisite restorative power seemed to be an instinct etched deep within his bloodline, perfectly natural and divine.