Chapter 37: Another Kind of Madness 3/4

Upon hearing Guilliman’s words, the bishops stood in a humble row, ready to listen to the Primarch’s instruction. Though they were figures of high status, they now appeared as timid as schoolboys, acting with such reverence and trepidation that they feared provoking the Primarch again. They knew well that if the Primarch truly deemed them heretics, he would show no mercy.

"My father is a true god; of this, there is no doubt. He does not need the faith of men; rather, it is men who need to believe in Him, to seek His enlightenment, and to hope to walk alongside Him. That is what makes Him unique. The Ruinous Powers require faith, but the great Emperor is a true god; He has no such need."

"We cannot spread His glory through fear. If we harm those who do not believe, using harsh punishments and torture to terrorize them into faith, then how are we any different from the traitors?"

"The followers of the Dark Gods always prefer to use force to achieve their ends, using slaughter to intimidate the ignorant. Because those gods are false, only such hypocritical deities require such methods. No rational person would ever choose those dark gods; they can only use fear to threaten and coerce people into worshipping them."

"The Emperor loves every human being. Whether they believe or not, He bestows His blessings upon them. This is the manifestation of His mercy and benevolence, and the proof of His status as a true god."

"We believe in the Emperor to walk with Him, not to demonstrate our own superiority. We feel fulfilled by our faith, sensing the Emperor’s presence with us, not because faith makes us better than others."

"He is merciful and benevolent; He is tolerant and patient. He never rejects any soul yearning for salvation. He silently examines those believers who wish to walk with Him, leading those noble souls He acknowledges into His immortal kingdom."

"Tell me, why do you believe in Him? Is it because of His selfless love, His merciful wisdom, or is it merely to elevate yourselves above others? Or for your own selfish desires?"

Guilliman scrutinized the bishops before him, his tone shifting from passionate to angry, and finally, to one of bewilderment and inquiry. His words shook the bishops, striking at their ignorant hearts. Of course, this rhetoric was not Guilliman’s own creation. It was the work of Lorgar, a traitorous Primarch. Lorgar was the founder of the Imperial Cult. Guilliman disliked the man, but out of a desire to learn, he had engaged with Lorgar in the past. What he said to the bishops now was merely a modified version of Lorgar’s own words. It must be said, plagiarism felt quite satisfying.

The bishops were incomparably stunned by Guilliman’s lecture. The faith of a Primarch who had once walked with the Emperor was so pure that it made them feel deeply ashamed. Guilliman had known the Emperor, and he had known those who created the foundations of the Ecclesiarchy. The first Saint of the Imperium, the Great Crusade chronicler Kyril, had received enlightenment from the Emperor during the Horus Heresy, manifesting the Emperor’s divine power and founding the Imperial Salvationists—the organization that became the precursor to the Ecclesiarchy. The bishops had not a shred of doubt regarding Guilliman’s words.

Some bishops even began to weep, crying for their own sins and their own ignorance. They had distorted the Emperor’s will while calling themselves His followers; what a heinous sin that was.

"My Lord, we never knew of such things." One bishop knelt trembling on the ground, kissing Guilliman’s iron-clad boots and begging for his mercy.

"I do not blame you, for you too were fooled. My father has slumbered for too long, and He could not communicate with you; His overwhelming will alone would have burned your souls to ash. Those heretics seized the opportunity to infiltrate the Imperium. They twisted my father’s will and fooled the humanity He loves. This is an unforgivable crime. As the Emperor’s sole representative in the mortal realm, I solemnly ask you: are you willing to follow me to reform the distorted Ecclesiarchy and eradicate the heretics lurking within?"

Guilliman’s voice was full of majesty as he looked at the bishops, awaiting their answer.

"We are willing to offer everything, my Lord."
"As long as we may receive your forgiveness."
"Lead us back into the glory of the Emperor, and guide us on the correct path."

The bishops all knelt before Guilliman, vowing to join him in destroying the heretics who had distorted the Emperor’s will. Possessing the Emperor’s Sword and acknowledged by the Living Saint Celestine, Guilliman was the most legitimate representative of the Emperor. To reject or question him was undoubtedly to shake the very foundations of the faith in the Divine Emperor. Regardless of their reasons, the bishops had no choice; if they refused, Guilliman would immediately declare them heretics and execute them on the spot.

"Abolish those tortures and re-examine those who have been abused. If they are traitors to Chaos, execute them. If not, release them. Remember, my father values mercy and benevolence. Like a great Holy Father, He loves every human being selflessly. Any evil act committed in His name is surely the work of heretics corrupted by Chaos."

Guilliman said in a deep voice, "Those who commit the horrors that only followers of the dark gods would perpetrate in the name of the Emperor—such acts are unforgivable. They have desecrated the glory of the Emperor. Do you understand?"

"We understand, my Lord. We shall begin the review immediately."
"We will not let a single heretic escape."

Guilliman had hoodwinked the bishops of Espandor, which was no difficult feat for a Primarch. When the Emperor created them, He imbued them with powerful charisma, enabling them to easily persuade those who held dissenting views. The bishops exited the cathedral and loudly announced that the planet Espandor would re-examine every believer and purge the lurking minions of Chaos.

This was undoubtedly a massive upheaval. Under the bishops’ orders, the planet of Espandor began a sweeping investigation. Some who had been declared heretics were executed outright, while others were released on the spot. The poor souls who were released walked shakily out of their iron cages, unable to believe they had survived that terrible hell. The torture inflicted by those fanatics had caused their bodies and souls immense agony, leaving them in a deep abyss of hopelessness. They expressed their gratitude to the merciful Guilliman; it was his arrival that had saved them.

Meanwhile, those fanatics who had proven their faith through the torture of heretics were dragged out by the Tech-Priests and judged in public as minions of Chaos.

"I am loyal to the Emperor! I am loyal!" a woman with scripture carved into her scalp screamed hysterically while tied to a pillar.

"Then why did you torture those poor people to death?" the priest questioned the woman. In her mansion, more than a hundred servants had been tortured to death, and skulls adorned every corner of the residence. Some had even been gilded and kept as collectibles in glass cabinets. The reason these servants were slaughtered was, fundamentally, that they were not pious enough toward the Emperor.

"The Almighty Emperor appointed me to purge their sins!" the woman shouted. "Everything I have done is the will of the Emperor!"

"Absurd! The Emperor is so merciful; how could He allow a believer to commit such terrible crimes? You are a minion of Chaos. You committed those evil acts, twisting the glory of the Emperor. You will be sentenced to death, traitor. You have betrayed the Emperor."

"No! I am loyal!" the woman cried out in despair. "It is that Primarch—he is the heretic!"

"Execute her." Hearing the woman accuse the Primarch of being a heretic, the priest directly ordered the Tech-Priests to act. The pillar holding the woman began to emit heat, its temperature rising rapidly.

"No!" Realizing what was about to happen, the woman screamed, struggling desperately to break free from her chains. Flames erupted, and shrill cries rang out. When the fire subsided, the woman was nothing but charcoal, emitting a foul stench.

The crowd erupted in cheers. They had executed a minion of Chaos and defended the glory of the Emperor.

"Next!" the presiding priest hammered his skull-shaped gavel frantically, shouting at the top of his lungs over the wave of noise.