2nd Primarch

"That's fine, Your Highness."

After taking over Carlos's mummy, several combat nuns from the Psychic Guard frowned slightly.

There was no special reason; it was simply due to "ugly rejection."

Although each of the combat nuns was an admirable warrior, it did not mean their lives were monotonous and rigid. In fact, most nuns had their own hobbies and interests like ordinary people, after finishing their day's practice and prayer.

Because of their gender, their aesthetics were completely different from those of the rough men in the Empire.

Most of the tough guys in the Empire liked to hang the skulls of their enemies on their bodies. It was not only a symbol of honor but also a decoration. Similarly, they would spray various dark-style paints on their spaceships. Don't ask why; the answer is loyalty and faith—but it's really cool.

Even Dukel thought it would be a good decoration to make the great demon, whose essence had been extracted and rendered completely harmless, into a golden double-headed eagle and hang it on the Fire of the Soul.

But the nuns actually rejected it in their hearts. Just looking at the pair of hideous, shriveled bird heads was too much for them to bear.

The 28-kilometer-long ship of the Heartfire was the life of many Imperial warriors. They lived, fought, ate, slept, built families, and reproduced on this warship until they died. In the minds of the warriors, this was not only the flagship of the expeditionary corps but also their home.

Who doesn't want their home to be more pleasing to the eye?

But who could blame His Highness for giving the order? Even though the nuns felt it was ugly, they had no choice but to obey. They worked together to carry Carlos's mummy out.

"Duke, I didn't expect you to actually succeed!" After the nuns left, Magnus looked at the brand new Armor of Destiny in front of him and said in disbelief.

"Yes, this armor is not only enough to heal injuries but also carries Carlos's resistance to psychic energy, which is enough to make up for Guilliman's lack of psychic energy."

"When will he wake up?"

"Not sure," Dukel thought for a moment, "It depends on our brother's willpower. Anyway, it won't take more than a week at the latest."

Just as he finished speaking:

"FULGRIMM!!!"

Guilliman, who had been lying on the hospital bed, suddenly jumped up, shouting his brother's name.

Dukel hadn't spoken yet.

Magnus, who was hanging at his waist, spoke first. "Guilliman, I didn't expect you to miss Fulgrim so much?"

"Dukel?" Guilliman then saw the situation around him clearly, as well as the extremely conspicuous Primarch brother in front of him. "And Magnus? How did you become like this, brother? Sure enough, this is the fate of a traitor!"

"You are right, I am a traitor and I deserve it," Magnus said sarcastically.

"You are indeed not as good as the great Regent, Son of Perfection. Look at what you've done! Our father asked you to conquer the aliens, and this is how you conquered them?"

"Nonsense! Magnus, Evelyne and I are just allies!" Guilliman was furious.

"You are right, great Regent, but did I ever tell you that you are in some other relationship? Hmm?"

"YOU!"

Guilliman was easily angered to begin with, and this time he became even more angry. The unhealed wounds in his body were affected, and his lips trembled in pain.

Magnus let out a strange laugh. In the confrontation with his brother, he once again achieved a major victory.

This made him extremely proud.

And his pride continued until Dukel slapped him on the bald head.

"Shut up. Guilliman has just woken up and is still very weak. He cannot be stimulated."

Magnus looked up at his brother's hand, which was bigger than his face, and decisively chose to shut up.

Dukel nodded with satisfaction, then looked at Guilliman, whose anger was gradually subsiding, told him roughly what had happened in the war, and expressed his sincere gratitude to him.

This was a thanks that Guilliman deserved.

Although the Regent spent the rest of the war lying in the emergency room, except for taking concentrated fire from the three great demons, his contribution to the war was not during the war but before it.

The number of legions under the Regent was roughly estimated to be more than three times that of the expeditionary legion! The number of Astartes monks alone was no less than the total number of members of Dukel's Heart Network.

And Guilliman did not have the help of mental network computing power. He only relied on his own abilities to operate such a huge legion and manage it in an orderly manner.

The complexity of the affairs and the energy and effort consumed were beyond Dukel's imagination.

Guilliman, the demigod Primarch, took the initiative to kneel on one knee in front of the Space Wolves Chapter Master when challenged by the other party—and the purpose of his doing so was only to unite all the forces of the Empire.

If the protagonist of this incident had been Dukel, perhaps the Space Wolves Chapter Captain would have been chopped into eight pieces and fed to Russ the moment he bared his teeth.

This is their difference, and it also means that even though they are both Primarchs, Dukel cannot replace Guilliman's role.

When Dukel told Fulgrim that he had captured him, it was thought that Guilliman would be eager to find him to avenge the two swords after hearing the news.

But what he didn't expect was that Guilliman suppressed his anger and resentment in just a moment.

"The fall of a brother, even though he has been defeated, is not worth celebrating, is it?" Guilliman's eyes showed sadness. "How to deal with him should be decided by my father, not me."

"Yeah," Dukel nodded noncommittally at his decision, then said, "You're right, brother."

"—Can you lend me the Archmagus Cawl of the Mechanicus for a while?"

"Ah?" Guilliman's sadness that had just been brewing disappeared in an instant, but he quickly reacted, "What do you want Cawl for?"

"I plan to take him to a high-end academic exchange meeting. How about it, brother? Are you interested in joining us?"

In fact, Dukel was just asking symbolically. He expected that the busy Regent would not have the time.

But unexpectedly, Guilliman actually showed an expression of great interest.

So Dukel kindly reminded him, "Brother, I have to remind you that this academic exchange meeting is very high-end, and illiterate or semi-illiterate people have no need to participate."

"Illiterate? Do you mean me?"

Guilliman was stunned. As the Primarch, it was the first time that he received such an evaluation. In fact, not only was he not illiterate, he had even read all the books on his native planet before being found by the Emperor.

But Dukel and Magnus looked at each other, then looked at him together.

Standing in front of him was Dukel, who stayed in his room doing scientific research whenever there was no war; hanging in front of him was Magnus, who pursued endless knowledge.

So.

"Well," Guilliman smiled wryly, "It turns out I'm illiterate."

Then he seemed to remember something and said again:

"Dukel, I want to use this victory to hold a grand celebration. The Empire hasn't had such an inspiring victory for a long time. Our people need hope."

"And you, brother, will be the protagonist of this celebration. I hope you will come and participate."

Guilliman said with all seriousness.

"Then I hope I can find the time by then." When Dukel heard that Guilliman agreed to let him take Cawl away, his mind was no longer here.

In the results he calculated:

If all goes well, Cawl's own knowledge and Primaris Space Marine technology, Magnus breaking through the psychic bottleneck, his own Psychic Engine technology, and Gris as deputy—when this research team is established, the probability of his ideal Second Legion Space Marines being born will be as high as 22.2%!

After a brief exchange with Guilliman, Dukel hurriedly got up and left the emergency room to look for Cawl.

After he left, the Extreme Warriors, who had been waiting at the door, anxious because their old father was on the verge of death, swarmed into the emergency room.

Neither Dukel nor Guilliman, nor even Magnus, noticed when they finished their conversation and walked out of the emergency room, when they were once again exposed to the sight of mortals.

Their expressions unconsciously became rigid, not as natural as when they were with each other.

The proud Primarchs would never reveal their true thoughts in front of mortals.

Their true feelings are never revealed to mortals, and the emotions of a Primarch are only displayed directly to one another, whether it is laughter or anger, whether it is opening their arms or turning to war.

This is a very contradictory relationship. No matter how approachable a Primarch is—even Guilliman—he will not let mortals see his true heart.

After all, the only people a Primarch can identify with in his heart are his brothers.