Under countless gazes, Guilliman strode down the Heavenly Steps and returned to the procession.
Boom—
A burst of cries erupted among the crowd, both stunned and fearful. They pleaded for enlightenment from the Primarch.
However, Guilliman offered no response, nor any details of his audience with his Father.
All he said was that he had received the answers to all his questions.
At this moment, the Primarch's heart was filled with worry and confusion as he pondered how to deal with the terrifying storm that was soon to arrive, and how to reach out to that unknown brother.
He very much wanted someone to help him now.
With a furrowed brow, Guilliman brushed past Eden in the crowd, who was craning his neck to watch the spectacle.
Soon after, a new procession began to gather.
The Primarch summoned many warriors and signaled to the Custodes commander, Valanno, to accompany him.
When the much larger force had formed, Guilliman stood before the crowd and issued his first command:
"Summon all the High Lords of Terra at once!"
He would publicly announce a resolution at the Council of Terra—
After ten millennia, the Emperor's son, Roboute Guilliman, would once again assume the title of Lord Commander of the Imperium!
…
The Linked Axiomatic Fortress.
Unlike many decaying and unsightly structures on Holy Terra, this fortress still emanated wealth and abundance.
Antiques from ancient civilizations, xenos-crafted artifacts, some of the oldest and newest curiosities in the galaxy—all were gathered here.
This was, after all, the headquarters of the Imperium's merchant fleet, as well as the residence of the Rogue Traders' representative.
The foundation of the Linked Axiomatic Fortress had been laid several centuries before the Imperium was even established.
Every Rogue Trader license was issued from here, and every statistic on system-to-system shipping, taxation, and trade was stored here as well.
At the same time, the fortress served as a massive signal receiver, constantly gathering merchant fleet data from various relays and broadcasts.
Deep within the fortress existed terrifying gene-crafted beings known as the Kalkuro Coordinators, which dwelled in cultivation vats to oversee Imperial shipping.
"Hiss~ That antique looks a bit too familiar…"
Walking through the luxurious corridors, Eden and Shahim noticed a porcelain vase displayed in a showcase.
According to the placard's description, it was a relic from a certain ancient dynasty tens of thousands of years ago—highly unusual in both material and craftsmanship, found by a certain merchant vessel in the warp.
From the glaze and patterns, Eden could just about make out that it seemed reminiscent of Tang Dynasty porcelain…
Sure enough, you could find anything in the warp.
After glancing at it for a while, Eden looked away and continued deeper into the fortress with Shahim.
They were here regarding their missionary rights—which they had already acquired. This time, they had come to the Linked Axiomatic Fortress to meet with the High Lord and Rogue Trader representative, Kania Danda, to resolve the inheritance procedure for the family's Rogue Trader Warrant of Trade.
By now, Guilliman had formally become Lord Commander of the Imperium—Regent of Terra.
Yet his position was not fully secure.
Eden could sense a heavy, foreboding atmosphere on Holy Terra, something brewing in secret.
It was the scent of coup d'état.
Within the dense hive cities, cults dedicated to Chaos and mutants stirred in agitation.
If his guess was correct, Holy Terra would soon be awash in blood, and countless people would die in that catastrophe.
Even some of the High Lords might be assassinated during the chaos.
Eden wanted no part of this complicated strife.
Most high-ranking Imperial officials secretly controlled powerful forces or cultivated top-tier assassins, and some even had access to sinister xenos hired guns.
Those elite individuals were not to be trifled with.
They could deploy lethal toxins potent enough to harm a Primarch, mysterious force-field weaponry, and, worst of all, melta bombs that leveled the playing field for everyone.
Even if Eden's true body were here, he wouldn't be sure he could retreat safely without a substantial guard force.
In such circumstances, all he wanted was for Shahim's verification process to move faster so that he could officially inherit the Govini family's Rogue Trader title—then leave Holy Terra before the conflict exploded.
Before long, Eden and Shahim, guided by servitors, passed through a lavish set of doors.
That was the office of the High Lord and Rogue Trader representative, Kania Danda.
They entered, and with a loud rumble, the doors slammed shut.
Not long after…
Eden and Shahim emerged with grim expressions.
Negotiations had broken down.
Kania Danda demanded the Govini family sign a mutual-advance-and-retreat contract, along with making all their trade routes public, and "offering up" half their profits to the alliance above.
Moreover, she dismissed the spirit of the hereditary free charter and offered veiled threats.
It was as if she had taken the Govini family for a fat lamb, ripe for slaughter.
Shahim's face was flushed red with anger; his teeth ground audibly.
Once they stepped outside the estate, he snarled in a low voice, "That woman is too greedy—she basically wants to swallow us whole!"
Turning to Eden, Shahim's face showed deep worry:
"If that woman interferes and refuses to have the bureaucracy issue our hereditary charter, what do we do?"
That was a genuine possibility.
Even if a Rogue Trader Warrant of Trade was nearly sacrosanct in authority, Kania Danda, as a High Lord, had no shortage of ways to cause trouble.
Even if she couldn't outright invalidate the charter, she could tangle them up with so many complicated procedures that it would drag on forever.
According to the Imperium's usual efficiency, a process could easily take decades—or even a century or more.
Eden and Shahim couldn't accept such a delay. They had come to negotiate precisely to speed things up.
"Don't worry…"
Eden patted Shahim on the shoulder. "That High Lord has been blinded by power and greed—she's in for some serious trouble soon!"
If Eden remembered correctly, this High Lord would join forces with three others—the Ecclesiarch, the Master of the Administratum, and the Paternoval Envoy—in a bloody coup to resist the Primarch.
Then they would fail miserably in their coup, all of them getting kicked out of the High Lords Council and losing power entirely.
Originally, Eden had considered that if the negotiation went smoothly, he might secretly warn her in some way, giving her a chance to pull back from the brink.
Now, it was no longer necessary. Let her go down in flames for all he cared.
Eden sighed softly.
With relations ruined on the Rogue Trader side, if they wanted to speed up acquiring the hereditary charter, they only had one choice: go to his brother from another mother—big brother Guilliman.
On the way back, passing through a dark corridor, Eden and Shahim were suddenly intercepted.
The ones blocking their path were two young women draped in white robes, their features angelic, with pure white wings sprouting from their backs.
At a single glance, Eden recognized them as the Twin Handmaidens of Saint Celestine, the silver-haired angel.
The twin handmaidens offered a gentle bow, their voices sweet as they solemnly invited Shahim and his steward to meet the Living Saint.
They also revealed a hidden passage beside the walkway.
Shahim looked baffled.
He had no personal connection whatsoever with that holy Living Saint. They'd never crossed paths, not even during the lunar battle or the pilgrimages.
Hearing this, Eden's heart skipped a beat.
So it had come to this.
They were using Shahim as a pretext, but their real target was clearly him—"the Daemon-Eater" and supposed savior.
He recalled that in a previous confrontation, that silver-haired angel's gaze had put him on edge; her psychic senses were eerily keen.
Even keener, in fact, than Guilliman, a Primarch!
No doubt she had detected some anomaly.
But why would Saint Celestine seek him out?
Back during the Battle of Macragge, he had only lent her a small hand. That hardly warranted such prolonged attention, right?
Surely she wasn't after his body…?
That couldn't be it, could it?
Even if his true self was dangerously handsome—chosen by the Prince of Pleasure and the bane of women across the galaxy—he never once exposed that form in front of the silver-haired angel.
Besides, Celestine was a Living Saint, the Emperor's most faithful servant, sometimes jokingly called the "Fifth Chaos God's" champion (for the Emperor's spiritual presence). She was a steadfast believer, devoted to the Great Will. Having any sort of worldly attachment would be unthinkable.
Eden quickly ruled out that possibility.
So the real answer had to be that Saint Celestine had gleaned some sort of clue and intended to draw out the Daemon-Eater's true identity—or perhaps something more devious.
Eden could predict what would happen next—classic scenario:
They would arrive at Celestine's domain, where Shahim would be conveniently set aside, and Eden himself would be invited alone into some secret chamber where the silver-haired angel awaited.
She would then confirm his identity, and at once she would pounce, pinning down the great savior and Daemon-Eater to drag him to justice.
Perhaps she'd even march him bound hand and foot before the Primarch.
"Tsk… That Living Saint sure knows how to repay kindness with a knife," Eden thought grimly.
The good news was that this body of his was just a clone. It wouldn't be a total disaster if it were captured.
The bad news was that Shahim would be trapped for sure, likely subjected to some special interrogation.
Although his life might be spared, Eden's identity could be exposed in the process.
At that point, once Guilliman and the others realized who Eden really was, he might be forced to labor tirelessly for the Imperium, fighting for them forever.
Worse, with Holy Terra so deeply infiltrated by Chaos, word would eventually leak to the Ruinous Powers. Eden had plenty of old enemies out there…
Fortunately, the silver-haired angel seemed uncertain; this was just a cautious probe.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have merely sent her twin handmaidens with a polite invitation.
Eden frowned, debating how to respond. Yet these messengers had already shown up in person…
He decided there was no need to meet them.
Eden shot a glance at Shahim.
Then, with a polite smile, he firmly declined the twin handmaidens' request:
"Forgive us, but we have pressing matters to attend to. We truly cannot spare the time to meet with Saint Celestine at this moment…"
He paused and added, "After we've resolved our problems, we will gladly pay our respects to her in person and offer a proper apology."
The twin handmaidens glanced at one another, seeming to share a silent understanding. Then, with graceful composure, they nodded in acceptance:
"Our mistress eagerly awaits your visit…"
With that, they spread their wings and took off like two streaks of dream-like light, leaving behind only a beautiful silhouette.
Whew—
Eden waited until they were gone before quietly exhaling.
Once again, he had slipped out of immediate danger.
At least he'd bought some time. He had only been stalling; the moment their affairs were done, he would slip back to his old base in the Eye of Terror—far away from Holy Terra!
——
The Imperial Senate.
Here, at the very heart of power on the throneworld of Holy Terra, the High Lords Council convened.
Its design evoked the ancient Roman Colosseum, with a massive central dais that served as the forum for the High Lords.
Now, the Emperor's son, Primarch of the Ultramarines, Lord Commander of the Imperium, Roboute Guilliman, had taken residence here.
Inside the Lord Commander's office:
The towering Primarch hunched over his desk, brow tightly furrowed as he sifted through documents.
The constant noise of his Armor of Fate annoyed him.
But what troubled Guilliman even more was the attitude of the High Lords.
While he had the support of a few—such as those from the Astral Beacon Court or the Adepta Sororitas—many others remained subtly resistant.
Thus, his Indomitus Crusade was proving difficult to advance.
At the same time, he sensed a dark undercurrent on Holy Terra.
"That brother of mine foresaw all of this…"
Guilliman took out an illustration from the files. It showed a young noble whose features were slightly blurred.
This was the image he had glimpsed through Magnus's sorcerous ritual. He was sure it was the face of the Daemon-Eater, his missing brother.
Before leaving the Golden Throne, that brother had given him a psychic message about the situation on Holy Terra, urging him to stay wary of certain High Lords.
Guilliman gazed at the picture, comforted at heart.
Since his awakening, the world around him had become so unfamiliar. His brothers were either dead, corrupted, or missing—he felt alone, out of place among those who worshipped him like a demigod.
But this discovery meant he was no longer alone.
He knew that at least one living brother stood with him, supporting him. He would not fight alone!
Since his brother seemed intimately aware of what was happening on Terra, that meant he was at least somewhere in the Sol System, perhaps even hiding in plain sight on Terra.
Guilliman had a hunch his brother couldn't be far.
He sighed softly.
From that brother's tone, Guilliman sensed reluctance, a desire to avoid the responsibilities of the Imperium.
Moreover, their Father's attitude toward that son was far more lenient than in the past, utterly unlike the Emperor's previous strictness with His sons.
That wouldn't do!
A look of resolve crossed the Primarch's face. As one of the Emperor's sons—bestowed with such mighty gifts—how could one simply run from this responsibility?
He must bring that brother back and, together, restore the Imperium!
With that in mind, Guilliman focused keenly on the portrait, committing it to memory as best he could.
He was certain he would recognize him at a glance among the masses.
After a while, Guilliman stirred, brow furrowing.
It was time for a scheduled meeting.
He had been told that Shahim of the Govini family was here seeking an audience, presumably hoping for aid.
Apparently, he was on poor terms with Kania Danda, the Rogue Trader High Lord.
That suited Guilliman just fine.
Kania Danda was openly opposing his new policies, and he needed to support a different merchant force.
He tapped a small bell on his desk, instructing his attendant to allow Shahim and his advisor inside.
…
Outside the Lord Commander's office:
With permission granted, Eden and Shahim entered.
However, no sooner had they stepped in than they heard a soft exclamation.
Looking over, they saw scattered documents on the floor. The Primarch was struggling to bend over and pick them up, his armor preventing him from reaching.
Their eyes met, and both sides felt a wave of awkwardness.
Guilliman straightened, letting out a polite, self-conscious chuckle.
"My apologies; you must find this sight ridiculous. This armor, while it saved my life, causes me no end of inconvenience—and I must wear it at all times…"
He moved closer, gesturing for them to sit on the stone chairs for visitors. "Please, have a seat."
Eden was just about to sit when he noticed Guilliman's gaze fixated on him, as though scrutinizing something.
Eden stroked his chin, an uneasy feeling creeping into his heart.
Could Guilliman possibly recognize him like this?
But then, the Primarch asked:
"Have we met somewhere before?"
Eden quickly replied, with utmost deference:
"Yes, my lord. I took part in the pilgrim procession and was among those who marched behind you.
You may have spotted me then…"
"That explains it. Have a seat, Mr. Grant…"
Guilliman nodded, settling his towering frame on a stone chair.
He let the matter drop; indeed, it seemed plausible this "Grant" had been on pilgrimage.
Eden breathed a silent sigh of relief and sat slightly behind Shahim.
Indeed, Guilliman's psychic senses seemed… sluggish. Eden had already noticed that near the Golden Throne.
That trait actually worked in Guilliman's favor, making his mind more resilient against Chaos and less corruptible.
Perhaps that was part of why he'd always been so extraordinarily durable in battle—Chaos simply didn't bite as hard.
Soon, the conversation turned to formal matters.
Shahim described the injustices he'd faced and explained how urgent it was that he return home to handle pressing affairs.
He hoped the Primarch could help expedite the verification process so that he could formally inherit his family's legacy.
Guilliman agreed happily, his manner warm and genial as he spoke with Shahim and Eden, trying to draw them into his circle.
Yet Eden could sense the fatigue and sorrow behind the Primarch's sunny smile.
Guilliman was pushing himself hard, striving to be a proper leader—managing countless affairs and reassuring everyone else.
Eden couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, thinking:
"Brother, once I'm prosperous back home and have a massive Titan legion, I'll be sure to lend you a hand!"
But the next moment, Eden glimpsed a portrait on the floor—one that looked rather like himself—and most of that guilt dissolved.
So Guilliman was quite keen on finding his missing brother, huh?
He must want to drag him back to Terra to be a workhorse.
Eden felt a cold sweat.
He couldn't wait to leave as soon as possible.
At last, when the talk ended and they'd received the Primarch's signed warrant, Eden and Shahim prepared to depart.
This place was just too risky!
Just as Eden was about to step out the door, Guilliman's deep voice halted him with a hint of unmistakable authority:
"Wait."
…?
Eden forced himself to remain composed as he slowly turned around.
He saw the Primarch's apologetic smile:
"Mr. Grant, could I trouble you to pick up the documents on the floor for me?"
"S-sure…"
Eden returned, quickly gathered the scattered files, and hurried out of the office.
Guilliman watched him leave without further suspicion. People were always somewhat intimidated by his presence; he thought nothing of Mr. Grant's stiffness.
Soon, Guilliman was back to reading reports.
But after a while, he lifted his head, brows drawn together.
He felt as if he'd overlooked something…
…
Ebon Chalice Cathedral.
This was the headquarters of the Adepta Sororitas, and one of Saint Celestine's sanctums lay within its confines.
The silver-haired angel stood on a balcony in a soft robe, as if awaiting someone.
Moments later, her twin handmaidens arrived, informing her that Shahim and his steward had already departed Holy Terra aboard a merchant ship.
Saint Celestine's snowy brows creased slightly but she made no comment. She was well aware that it was only a clone of the Daemon-Eater.
If he preferred not to see her right now, so be it.
She had a feeling that before long, they would meet again somewhere else…
——
In High Orbit.
Aboard the Govini flagship.
Inside one of the ship's chambers:
"Success, we got away! Finally heading home!"
Eden sprawled on a sofa, sipping a chilled cola in satisfaction.
After acquiring the Primarch's mandate, he and Shahim had quickly secured the hereditary charter, making Shahim the official inheritor of the Govini legacy and granting him a legitimate Rogue Trader Warrant of Trade.
Then they rushed to the spaceport, leaving the Sol System at the fastest possible speed.
This trip to Terra had met all their goals. It was time to head back and develop their domain in earnest.
Soon, Guilliman would gather his fleets to strike against Chaos, and Eden couldn't afford to be left behind.
He had to build up enough strength to join that war—especially before Guilliman ventured into Nurgle's Garden.
He also had to rescue the Goddess of Life.
Eden relaxed, sipping his cola with contentment.
Suddenly, the ship's public broadcast delivered astonishing news…
(End of Chapter)
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