Chapter 135 135. The Emperor Is the Emperor of Mankind!

Guilliman came to the door, his steps were a little hesitant, endless light poured out from the other side of the door, and the golden shadow was twisting his will all the time. In these seemingly bright lights, he did not find a trace of human feeling, which made him a little afraid to move forward.

"Duke, where is this? Should I really go there?"

Guilliman shouted helplessly in the bizarre spiritual realm.

The flame that had been leading him gave a response at this moment,

"This is the true north of the spiritual realm, where our father, the savior of mankind, the Holy Emperor is."

In the scorching voice, Guilliman saw the flames constantly stretching and tumbling, and finally revealed his true appearance - he saw in the light of the flames, countless overlapping wheels holding up a huge eyeball. A sacred, terrifying, magnificent behemoth.

He saw a pupil that was bigger than his whole body looking at him, although the light in the eyes was peaceful and did not show violence. But it still gave him a heavy sense of oppression, and Guilliman's pain was stagnant.

He felt a strong sense of suffocation, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

"No, no! You are not Dukel, who are you?!" Guilliman shouted in panic.

"Don't be afraid, this is me." The power of the mind sprinkled from the bright eyes, soothing Guilliman's emotions,

"This is part of my essence, the expression of part of my power, and also our true appearance. In this spiritual realm, our essence is revealed without a doubt, Guilliman, whether you are willing to admit it or not, our essence is not ordinary."

"Please don't be afraid, brother, I accept the essence only to shock the demons."

Under the comfort of the power of the mind, Guilliman felt much better, but he still found it difficult to accept,

"This is crazy!" He said.

"Don't rush to go crazy, there will be more things that you can't accept. In fact, I appear here to give you a hint." The voice in the flames came again, and the huge eyeballs turned to the bright door,

"Step into this door, you must be mentally prepared enough."

"Why?" Guilliman asked puzzled.

"Because he is different from what you remember." Dukel explained with his huge eyeballs rolling, "In the ten thousand years when the Empire fell into darkness and the Chaos Demons were rampant. The soul of the Lord of Mankind was constantly being destroyed. Today, the human part of him is covered with wounds and extremely weak."

"How could this happen?!" Guilliman was shocked. He couldn't imagine that the omnipotent All-Father in his eyes would also be tortured by pain. A huge sadness surged from the bottom of his heart, rising up in just a moment and occupying his entire mind.

"Don't be sad about this, hope has not been cut off."

Dukel continued, "You only need to remember one thing, the Emperor is the Emperor of mankind, this is eternal. As for what he said, you don't need to care about it, because it is not his original intention."

"Okay, I remember it." Guilliman nodded.

Seeing him nod, the flames began to ripple, and a gentle thrust pushed Guilliman into the bright door.

The moment he walked into the gate, Guilliman's eyes showed disbelief. He watched with difficulty as a ruined empire unfolded nakedly in front of him. There was light and anger, passing through countless human corpses, the light that burned souls and the echoing eternal voice. The psykers wailed silently, being squeezed dry just to satisfy His terrifying majesty. "Duke, have you been here too? Even if I saw it with my own eyes, I still find it hard to accept." Guilliman muttered to himself. But this time, he didn't get a response. The red flames had dissipated. His brother did not enter the gate with him. The next step was his journey alone. Guilliman's eyes swept over everything in front of him. There were gods, demigods, and the image of a brown-skinned man with a calm expression. There were people wearing leather clothes, or chain mail, and gold armor. There were all kinds of colors, and they had many faces, all exuding pride, and all suffered betrayal. He saw Malcador among them, and also saw his brothers. Countless thoughts tortured him, memories that had lasted for thousands of years. Random, looping thoughts. So many voices echoed in his mind, the same and different.

Countless chaotic information poured into his mind, but they were countless chaotic fragments, without continuity.

The living kept dying, just to maintain this terrible thing.

In the center of the room was a golden machine, shrouded in dust made of broken dreams.

Guilliman saw a mummy sitting on the golden machine, a skull-faced corpse, lifeless, perched on the seemingly majestic seat.

He saw a king with unlimited power, meditating on his throne.

He saw a man who might be his father, with fatigue on his face.

This man was in his ear, giving him some inaudible advice, telling him what to do next.

- Finally he saw an evil energy body that was enough to rival the dark gods.

So many scenes but no one's face, no one's voice, only chorus, only noise.

After being prompted by Dukel, Guilliman quickly realized that these people were all emperors, but none of them were emperors.

The Emperor's appearance was a heavy blow to his soul, a denial of his own existence.

——The Emperor is the Emperor of Mankind, unchanging!

At this moment, Guilliman could only keep this sentence in mind to keep his sanity from collapsing, to keep his mind from being overwhelmed by great sorrow.

He knelt down in front of Him.

He knelt before a magnificent Eternal Emperor.

"Father." Guilliman spoke with difficulty, and he said this word seriously.

"I'm back, father."

"Help me, father, tell me what I should do?"

He raised his head and looked directly at the light column, the screaming of the soul, the aimless skeleton, the indifferent old god.

He looked at the Emperor of Mankind, but he couldn't see it. Too much, too bright, too strong. The unreal existence in front of him completely shocked him. A hundred different impressions, all false, all true. Rushed into his mind.

Then, that thing, that terrible thing on the throne, saw him.

"My son." It said. "Thirteen."

"Lord of the Limits."

"Savior."

"Hope."

"Failure."

"Disappointment."

"Liar."

"Thief."

"Betrayer."

"Guilliman."

"Robert Guilliman!" The roaring storm pronounced his name, like a dying sun shining on its planet,

"Guilliman, Guilliman, Guilliman!"

The name echoed in the eternal wind, never stopping, never reaching its destination.

-The Emperor is always the Emperor of Mankind.

Guilliman kept repeating this sentence in his heart.

"Father!" he cried.

Dukel stood up holding the Fate Eagle in his hand, he raised his head and looked up at the indescribable sky, at this moment his spiritual sense was keenly observing this place, this area belonging to the Garden of Nurgle.

He was waiting for the opportunity like an experienced hunter.

"I don't know which link Guilliman is going through now." Dukel's face showed strangeness.

He had faced the Emperor directly before, three times.

Therefore, he knew very well what the Emperor was like now.

After thousands of years of worship by humans, the Emperor's essence had become too huge. His energy was even greater than that of a single dark power. Not long ago, he had even confronted Khorne head-on.

Such a huge existence was unimaginable for humans, even for people like the Primarch.

Just like a blind man touching an elephant, mortals could not see the whole picture of Him. The best result was to try to choose one side, just like choosing a channel signal to communicate with the other party.

In the three previous exchanges with the Emperor, Dukor did this.

But because he could not choose accurately, the Emperor he faced each time was like a completely different person. Ordinary, divine, and detached

Even so, this was only possible after he developed his own essence.

Guilliman's situation was much more complicated.

- The reason for the complexity was that Guilliman did not accept his own essence, and even did not accept psychic energy.

His understanding of the Warp, let alone compared with Dukor or Magnus, was sometimes even worse than that of a mortal think tank.

Therefore, when he faced the Emperor, he was not only blind, but also deaf and lame. He could only be exposed to all channels of the Emperor, receiving indistinguishable noises, but could not hear any of them clearly.

In this case, it was difficult for the two to communicate with each other without pain.

Therefore, in order to let Guilliman suffer less pain, Ducker kindly reminded the other party.

And he also cleared the north of Nurgle's domain in advance to ensure that the Emperor's power could be transmitted more smoothly.

Just as he was thinking about these.

Suddenly, the Fate Eagle Banner in his hand trembled slightly.

At the same time, one of his millions of eyes witnessed a golden light like a golden sword, piercing Nurgle's domain.

"Hahaha, it's finally here!"

In the laughter of the Primarch, the huge Fate Eagle Banner was waved by him.

The majestic fighting spirit spread wantonly, foreshadowing the start of the next war.

.

At the same time, Nurgle's garden was turned upside down in waves of earthquakes, the golden sun pierced the sick sky, and all kinds of demonic natives complained and groaned in the reversal.

"This is impossible!"

Mortarion whispered.

In his eyes, Guilliman's body began to twitch, and the armor of fate was corroded. Under the influence of unknown external forces, the light of re-operation flickered again.

Guilliman's black and injured face corroded by the plague twisted strangely, and then looked at him suddenly.

Mortarion sensed that a dangerous and mysterious force was passing through the warp, which was something he had not felt for a long time.

The Lord of Death waved the Silent Scythe in his hand. This was a variable in his great plan. He wanted to end Guilliman's life completely.

At this moment, Guilliman's eyes surged with strong light, pure and white. The last inch of his decayed skin was burned out, replaced by a diffuse blood vessel network covered with hair, affecting the body contaminated by the plague of God to produce new blood.

The light of the Armor of Destiny was also flickering, undergoing an unrealistic self-remodeling. The original filth was shattering and dissipating, and the wires were extending and reconnecting like living things, just like Guilliman's own self-growing skin.

The ground of the garden was breaking and cracking, and a round of white light was flowing on the surface in the shining.

Guilliman's body stood up, his palms spread out, and the Emperor's sword appeared instantly, with thousands of scorching flames like the sun, ready to burn the sky and destroy the world.

"He talked to me." Guilliman said, "Mortarion, tell me, didn't you hear it?"

The dazzling light covered his body, illuminating every corner of this place, so that Mortarion had to raise his head to cover his eyes.

"Father?"

Mortarion's voice trembled, like a child who had made a mistake.

"I am His arm, brother." Guilliman's words sounded again, "I am His conqueror, I am the son of revenge, and I am saved by His power."

As soon as Guilliman's voice fell, a new vision appeared again.

The Armor of Destiny, which was already shrouded in endless light, began to burn on its own at this moment, and the red flames rose instantly.

"Impossible, what is this again?!"

Seeing this new change, Mortarion, who was already uneasy, screamed in panic.

Amid the screams of the Lord of Death, the power that had long been buried in the Armor of Destiny, the spirit and flesh of the golden double-headed eagle, now produced a weak resonance, and they were connected to each other, like old friends who had been separated for a long time.

In the end, this weak connection, driven by the brute force, established a solid bridge. The connection between them broke the confinement of time and space, and connected a direct passage in this mysterious heaven of Nurgle.

A magnificent portal, made entirely of flames, like a huge triumphal gate, wider than the sky and the earth, opened up behind Guilliman.

In this portal of flames, a huge Imperial fleet rushed in and set foot on the most secret area of ​​the Garden of Nurgle.

The part between the realms was flickering, and the ground of the garden was shaking constantly.

On the bow of the magnificent flagship, the majestic Primarch held high a golden Sky Eagle flag, and the thick golden light covered the sky and the earth in just a moment.

It was just a little bit short of including the hut of the God of Plague.

The burning will of war swept everything here, and the garden was ignited by the flames of war in an instant, and the red flames rose.

"Dukor?!!! Impossible, how can you appear, impossible, how did you get here!"

Mortarion screamed again after seeing this scene.

When he brought Guilliman's wreckage into the core of the Garden of Nurgle, he found that everything was out of his control.

"Revenge, my brother. Don't miss such a good opportunity." Dukor stood on the bow of the Heartfire and said to Guilliman first.

Then he looked at Mortarion, "I heard that the Plague God was holding a celebration in His heaven, and I came here for this. I traveled through mountains and rivers, and worked tirelessly, just for a carnival!"

Behind him, the huge imperial army was already ready to go, and he cheered:

"My warriors, my sons, my compatriots. The great celebration is held in the Garden of God, and everything is paid for by the Plague God! Celebrate, dance, smash, loot and burn!"

"This is the time for carnival!"