Chapter 66: An Idle Move

Chapter 66: A Casual Move

An Orlock Waaagh! has two meanings: the Waaagh! psychic field, and a massive interstellar crusade.

Due to the warlike nature of the Orks, they frequently engage in internal infighting or launch pirate raids against nearby enemies. These conflicts are usually small-scale or localized skirmishes that have never truly developed into anything greater.

However, once the population of Orks reaches a critical mass, the strongest, greenest, and biggest Ork Warlord will emerge.

With an Ork Warlord, the greenskins undergo a rapid metamorphosis, gaining superior intelligence, advanced technology, and enhanced combat capabilities. They construct warships and sweep across the stars, ruining every star system they pass through.

The so-called Waaagh! can also be understood as a grand crusade launched by the Orks in the name of their gods, Gork and Mork.

"I believe that under your leadership, we will undoubtedly stop those abominable xenos. You are undefeated," Sicarius said.

He was filled with absolute confidence in Guilliman.

New technologies, new transformations.

Ever since the Primarch's resurrection, humanity's strength had been growing day by day.

"I am not a god; do not deify me," Guilliman attempted to halt Sicarius's dangerous train of thought.

If things continued to develop this way, Guilliman felt certain that a repetition of the events of the Great Crusade era would occur, and he would become the second entity after the Emperor to be deified.

Sicarius smiled, offering no counter-argument to his Primarch.

Yet, judging by his expression, Guilliman knew his words had completely failed to register with him.

"The Great Rift has weakened the Imperium of Man, yet it has made these xenos even more terrifying." Guilliman reached out to tap the projection screen; the data displayed upon it grew increasingly alarming the longer he looked.

Once the Orks launched their crusade, there was a strong possibility that an Ork Emperor would emerge once more.

That was the most terrifying prospect of all.

If an Ork Warlord already possessed the power of a Primarch, just how horrifying would an Ork Emperor be?

"My lord, is that not precisely why you have come? We shall resolve them," said Sicarius.

"Do not grow overconfident. The situation in this sector is even worse than we imagined. We must take action swiftly and have all fleets prepare; we need to deal with the Ork threat. Sicarius, go and distribute the orders to the fleets. Proceed according to the original strategic plan, shatter the Ork offensive, and strike directly at the Ork Warlord."

Guilliman looked toward Sicarius.

The latter offered another salute and strode out.

Before setting out on the campaign, Guilliman had already made meticulous tactical and strategic arrangements for the Charadon Sector.

Every fleet and Chapter had its own assigned targets to conquer.

As for the *Macragge's Honor* aboard which he resided, it was responsible for patrolling and maneuvering freely.

Like a precise surgical knife, it would cut accurately into the vital organs of the Ork forces, ensuring a fatal blow with a single strike.

On this galactic battlefield, a war spanning across star systems tested strategic and tactical planning above all else.

Among the various Primarchs, the Lion El'Jonson and the arch-traitor Horus were undoubtedly the most formidable.

"What a pity. If I were the original, unadulterated Primarch, I would find a way to drag Lion El'Jonson back. I handle the logistics, and he handles the assault. The dual powerhouse combination would be invincible across the universe—kicking Chaos in the teeth, punching xenos in the face, and dominating the stars would be just around the corner."

"The only regret is that I am not purely the original article."

Guilliman muttered to himself, just as the communication device at his side began to flicker.

Guidus had sent a message.

He was responsible for guarding the clone of Belisarius Cawl, and it seemed there was new information.

Guilliman stood up and walked out of the dual-purpose reception and office chamber.

"My lord."

Seeing Guilliman step out, Fecris saluted him.

"Come, let us go to Guidus's location." Guilliman walked toward the direction of the classified elevator, with Fecris and the others following closely behind.

Guilliman entered the compartment alone and rode the classified elevator downward.

Watching his liege vanish behind the closing doors, Fecris turned his gaze to the sides of the corridor, deliberately avoiding any speculation about what lay beneath the elevator.

The other Ultramarines did the same, keeping their minds steadfast and suppressing any curiosity regarding those hidden depths.

In this malevolent universe, the truth was not necessarily a good thing.

The Chaos Gods were all too fond of using the truth to tempt those who thought themselves clever.

Riding the elevator down, Guilliman felt the familiar, crushing psychic pressure weighing upon him as he always did.

Guidus had been waiting for a long time.

"My lord," Guidus said, his voice laced with weakness.

Remaining in this place for extended periods was far from beneficial.

Guidus was going to sacrifice his life simply to maintain the communication between himself and Cawl.

Yet another life about to be consumed in the service of humanity.

Guilliman lacked the heart to guess how much longer the man could hold out.

"Lead me forward, and thank you for your dedication, Guidus," Guilliman said sincerely.

The survival of the Imperium was built entirely upon the sacrifices of such individuals.

"Do not say that. Serving the Imperium and serving the Primarch is merely my bounden duty."

Passing through multiple security systems, the two walked toward the secluded chamber housing Cawl's clone.

After activating the room with the secret command codes as usual, Guidus departed.

Upon receiving the activation codes, the machinery let out a booming rumble.

The severed heads suspended within their containers displayed expressions of extreme agony, dense networks of circuitry began to awaken, and indicator lights flickered.

A terrifying wave of psychic pressure appeared and vanished, and the machinery beneath the floorboards grew noisy in response.

"My lord," Cawl's clone said, "it is truly a pleasure to see you."

"I deeply doubt whether you are truly an implementation of Cawl's cloned consciousness. You give me a bad premonition, Cawl clone; you look far more like an Abominable Intelligence."

"I was excised from Cawl as merely one of his multiple personalities. As you know, Archmagos Belisarius Cawl is a sage who strictly adheres to the precepts of the Machine God; he would never do anything that violates the regulations."

"That statement of yours is akin to someone telling me that the Chaos Gods are benevolent," Guilliman remarked.

"Have you lost your sense of humor, my lord? Having slumbered for ten thousand years, you have grown increasingly dull."

"Give me the news; what message has Cawl sent?" Guilliman steered the conversation back to business, unwilling to waste time here with this degraded iteration of Cawl.

"The research team has transmitted detailed data. The repair work for the xenos lighthouse has been scheduled and will soon become operational. The Archmagos has expressed his bewilderment—we have absolutely no need to repair the xenos lighthouse; we could simply construct a brand-new one from scratch."

Guilliman smiled faintly. "If we did that, it would not achieve the desired effect. My brothers are waiting, and they are eager to make me pay a price. A lighthouse capable of resolving the Imperium's navigation problems in the Dark Imperium will undoubtedly make them believe I value it above all else. I must give them an opportunity to deal me a heavy blow."

"They might not necessarily take the bait," said Cawl's clone.

"As you yourself said, 'might not,' which means there is still a chance. Arrogance is their original sin; relying upon the Warp, they believe they have grasped the ultimate truth and supreme power." Guilliman said in a deep voice, "This is merely a casual move. If they take the bait, naturally that is for the best; if they do not, there is no great loss either."