Chapter 34: The Madness of the State Religion 4/4

"The Ecclesiarchy possesses significant autonomy; they may not necessarily be willing to heed your orders," Phicris said with a touch of apprehension.

Guilliman smiled faintly. "I will make them listen. I am the direct son of the Emperor, His finest representative. Even the saints of the Ecclesiarchy would not dare claim to be more qualified than I to speak for the Imperial Creed."

"But what if they perceive their interests to be threatened and adopt a hardline stance?"

"Then we shall bind those heretics to the stake." Guilliman paused, turning his gaze toward Phicris. "Speaking of stakes, go have the ship's Tech-priests weld a few for me. Perhaps we need a few pyres to show those bishops exactly what the consequences will be should they defy me."

"My lord," Phicris hesitated for a moment. "Is that really wise? It does not seem to align with your usual style. Do you not advocate for following regulations and pursuing rational thought?"

"I advocate for rational thought and acting within established frameworks when dealing with you, because you possess reason and understand the difference between right and wrong. Rules help you restrain your inner arrogance and sloth, helping you understand the purpose behind all your actions. But those fanatics lack such awareness; they only follow the faith in their hearts with fervor, content to be mere tools of religion."

Guilliman began to pace, organizing his thoughts before continuing. "What do you think is the success rate of me persuading them to abandon their faith? Be honest, Phicris. No need for flattery; base your answer on your existing knowledge of the Ecclesiarchy."

"Make them abandon their faith?" Phicris fell into deep thought. His interactions with the Ecclesiarchy were frequent—the self-abasing flagellants, the various tortures inflicted upon perceived sinners, and their myriad acts of madness. After reflecting on the behavior of the Ecclesiarchy, Phicris arrived at his answer.

"The success rate is zero. They cannot abandon their faith; faith is their entire existence. It would be far simpler to convince those believers to give up their lives than to convince them to give up their faith."

"That is exactly the problem. I cannot persuade them to renounce their faith, nor can I abolish the Ecclesiarchy with a single decree. Therefore, the means at my disposal are minimal. Controlling them is the most prudent path. Once I have them under control, I can initiate a new round of reforms—just as I have with the administrative systems and the Imperial military—to limit the bishops' power and guide those believers onto the correct path."

"To make them willingly accept my reforms, I must assume a legitimate identity—one that makes the followers believe I am one of them. Only then will they believe my reforms are righteous and that the Emperor has guided me to do so. Those who oppose me will then be revealed as enemies of the Imperium, enemies of the faith, and infiltrators of Chaos."

"My lord, this is becoming overly complicated."

"Phicris, you must continue to learn. Beyond combat, you must study other things; only then can you better assist me. We are not just facing the battlefield in plain sight, but also those unseen battlefields. We must achieve total victory to save humanity; otherwise, salvation is nothing more than empty words."

"Chaos will interfere with us, traitors will deceive us, and those who harbor grievances will become our obstacles. Some are in the light, others in the shadows. We use force to resolve the enemies in the light, and our intellect to resolve those in the dark. Only in this way can we save the Imperium."

"I understand, my lord."

"If you understand, then leave. I need a moment of silence. Report back to me in ten minutes with other matters."

Phicris nodded and departed. Left alone, Guilliman pondered Espandor and considered how best to seize control of the Ecclesiarchy. The fanatical faith of the Ecclesiarchy was terrifying, yet it was not without its uses. Guilliman could leverage this faith to help promote his new systems and oppose the daemons. Of course, this was merely a stopgap measure.

The Ecclesiarchy could not exist forever; it could only exist temporarily. Once every sector of the Imperium flourished under his new technology and ideology, the faith in the Emperor would naturally fade away. In the Middle Ages, during the dark era of church rule, the power of the Papacy once swelled to great heights, only to eventually decline due to the Renaissance. People after the Renaissance viewed the divine with scrutiny, criticism, and a search for spiritual comfort, rather than through the lens of fanaticism and ignorance.

In the Warhammer universe, denying the existence of gods is impractical, but the status of humanity and divinity should be equal; it should not be a matter of blind kowtowing and sycophancy. Guilliman lacked the influence and the sheer audacity of the Emperor to simply eradicate all religion and tear down every temple and shrine. The only thing he could do was to plot slowly, adopting the method of boiling a frog in water.

Under Guilliman's orders, the fleet recalibrated its course, turning toward the missionary world of Espandor. A week later, the fleet emerged from the Warp and appeared outside the Espandor system. The system was teeming with missionary communication satellites, constantly broadcasting encoded hymns and prayers to the Emperor. These satellites were not only broadcasting into realspace but were also using auspex arrays to transmit into the Warp.

The fleet was inundated with a massive stream of communication data before it even entered realspace. Once inside, they were completely submerged in a sea of electromagnetic signals. The cogitator skulls used to process the information began to show signs of distress, and the servitors tasked with broadcasting and calculations twitched uncontrollably due to the massive processing load. Secondary systems were clogged by the sheer volume of data, emitting harsh, discordant warning alarms.

Most of these communications were useless, consisting only of the fanatical prayers and hymns of the devotees. The fleet was forced to block the majority of the signals to prevent the cogitators and servitors from overloading. Within the Espandor system, dozens of pilgrim arks, some tens of kilometers long, drifted through the system, towing statues of the Emperor that stood hundreds of kilometers tall. The arks were packed with fanatics and flagellants, prostrating themselves and scourging their bodies day and night to manifest the Emperor's light.

The Espandor system possessed two terrestrial planets. Espandor Prime was the primary population center. On its surface stood over a dozen statues of the Emperor, piercing the clouds and reaching toward the heavens. The atmosphere of the planet was thick with the scent of incense, and the sprawling megacities were filled with devout believers carrying censers and sacred banners.

Among these believers, the number of zealots was staggering, and their methods of expressing piety were extreme. Some wealthy fanatics not only covered their skin in etched scriptures, but they were also crazed enough to use Adeptus Mechanicus technology to carve prayers into their very bones. Others whipped themselves with thorns until they were covered in blood and gore, exposing bone in some places, yet they refused to stop, leaving trails of dripping blood as they walked.

In front of the cathedrals, iron cages hung suspended. Inside were those the believers deemed heretics. These wretches were bound to iron pillars, their bruises and bloodied frames testament to prolonged torture. In the center of the cages were flamers that triggered periodically, accompanied by the screams of the prisoners. The intense heat would melt parts of the iron pillars, causing molten metal to cascade onto the heretics, eliciting agonizing cries. Other heretics were slaughtered by zealots, their throats slit as they twitched on the ground. As their blood soaked the earth, believers would smear it on their own faces, kneeling to declare they had cleansed the enemies of the Emperor.

It was a world of madness. It was a world that had lost its reason.

The scenes captured by the radar arrays and auspex sensors sent a chill through Guilliman’s heart. The fanaticism of the Ecclesiarchy was even more horrifying than he had imagined.

"May everything go smoothly," Guilliman thought to himself.

As soon as Guilliman's fleet appeared, it was detected by the believers of the Espandor system. News of the Primarch's arrival spread throughout the system within hours, and countless believers cheered, viewing it as the Emperor's reward for their piety. A grand welcoming ceremony was organized an hour after Guilliman's fleet entered the system. A vast number of pilgrim ships joined the formation, eager to demonstrate their devotion. Several bishops even submitted requests to board the *Macragge's Honour* to meet the Primarch in person.