Chapter 1042 Open the Door

Other Primarchs were not proactive, such as Curze, who was held by Fulgrim and Sanguinius with one hand each and pressed against the door. The warmth from the two hands made Curze feel extremely uncomfortable. After struggling in vain, he chose to give up, with a complicated expression on his drooping face.

Angron also put his hand against the door. He wanted to leave quickly and find a quiet place to be in a daze.

Mortarion was confused, imitating like a puppet.

The door seemed not so heavy anymore. The mortal-sized Emperor felt a little emotional in his heart. He felt his eyes were a little wet for some reason, but not to the point of crying.

Although it was not perfect, it was beautiful enough. Even if tomorrow was the end of the world, the Emperor felt that he would face it with relief.

The door opened a crack, and golden light came over. The Emperor squinted his eyes and heard some voices from behind.

Looking back, he found that the light through the gap in the door was sprinkled on the throne. The empty seat was scattered with dust-like dots, forming the outline of an old friend of the Emperor.

"Malcador?"

The Emperor trembled his lips and could not say anything. His thoughts suddenly returned to a long time ago. Before the Emperor could say anything more, he was squeezed out by the Primarchs.

Odemaier, who had left the throne data sea, stood on the side of the throne and watched the door slowly close. She saw the Emperor's complicated eyes clearly.

It was really heartbreaking...

Odemaier sighed and remembered her father's evaluation of the Emperor.

"After taking off all the veils, the person on the throne is just a stupid and silly boy."

Odemaier stretched and continued to adjust the throne.

Outside the throne room, the kneeling guards and space marines raised their heads. They saw the Emperor and the Primarchs standing behind the Emperor.

The Guards only care about their king, and they are all excited to see the Emperor walking on earth again.

The Space Marines are more concerned, especially Bjorn, an old warrior who has been active since the Great Crusade. His body sealed in the Dreadnought Sarcophagus shed tears, his vision gradually blurred, and he saw the distant and glorious early days of the Great Crusade. At this moment, Bjorn forgot all hatred and just wanted to remember this scene in his heart forever.

There was no cheering, no applause.

In the calm, the human empire ushered in a new stage. They will sweep away the corruption and decadence of the past and use their last bit of strength to guard the hard-won flame of hope.

After a brief appearance, the Emperor returned to the throne room. There is still a lot of work to be done. In addition to the 50-year preparation period mentioned by Tzeentch, the restoration and reconstruction of Terra and Mars, the treatment plan of the Primarch and his legion... These are all urgent problems that need to be solved. Under the huge shadow of the end of the galaxy, countless undercurrents are surging.

Under the Emperor's arrangement, the Primarchs who were willing to serve the Emperor dispersed. Dorn chose to stay on Terra. He wanted to repair Terra, organize the Imperial Fists and the Terran mortal army to rescue survivors from the ruins and appease civilians.

Chagatai led the White Scars and the expeditionary fleet to patrol the Cadia void, capturing or destroying the remaining enemies who had escaped by chance.

Corax returned to the Raven Guard. He first affirmed the work of the Colvin Chapter Captain, and then said that he wanted to go back to Redemption Star to have a look. Even after so long, he still couldn't forget the hometown that gave him so much warmth.

Guilliman was sent back by the God of Laughter Xile Plateau Road. He returned to Macragge in a dizzy state. As soon as his butt touched the familiar seat, he heard the self-blaming cry of the Ultramarines. Guilliman sternly stopped the Ultramarines' weakness, then his face changed, and he gently announced the Emperor's return to everyone. Compared with the silent and autistic Emperor, Guilliman is better at using propaganda to inspire people.

After hearing the news, the Ultramarines were silent at first, and then asked Guilliman again and again with trembling voices. Guilliman patiently answered the Ultramarines' questions, and announced in suppressed surprise and cheers that Macragge would pass on this good news, and all citizens would receive material rewards and a day off.

"When the Emperor sat on the throne, we designated that day as the Emperor's Ascension Day. Now that the Emperor has returned to us, we will also designate this day as the Emperor's Return Day! Celebrate! Citizens of the Empire! The bright future of mankind is just around the corner!" Guilliman's preaching spread from Macragge as the center, and the entire Ultramar sector fell into a wave of celebration in the following days.

After making these propaganda, Guilliman returned to his room. He withdrew all his joy and stared at the beautiful fireworks rising in the distance with a complicated look. He did not think it was a wise decision to let most people know the end of the galaxy. Some secrets can only be carried out in the shadows. At least for them, the war has been won, which is enough. The next work should be completed by these Primarchs who are hailed as demigods. After all, the greater the ability, the greater the responsibility.

Guilliman is certainly not the only Primarch who is good at politics. Perturabo is similar to Guilliman in many ways after calming down, so he also knows the importance of propaganda to boost morale.

After waking up, Perturabo returned to Cadia, where he led some of the Lamenters and the Iron Warriors who were willing to follow him. As soon as he returned to Cadia, Perturabo brought good news to everyone. Compared with Guilliman's preaching, Perturabo's preaching emphasized more on the connection between sacrifice and victory.

The soldiers lying in the trenches were silent. Among them were the well-equipped expeditionary forces and the Cadian guards who fought desperately with laser guns. After Tzeentch completed the sublimation through a series of means, there was no war here. The excessive tranquility made the soldiers feel uneasy. Some soldiers who had been fighting for several months without a good rest were discouraged in this silence, just like a silk thread that was stretched too tight and deformed and loose.

Perturabo's voice floated from a distance, which was very obvious on this quiet battlefield. The soldiers listened carefully.

"Warriors, after so much blood was shed, so many sacrifices and efforts were made, the enemy's offensive was disintegrated by us. Now is a time to celebrate the victory..."

"Yeah..." Some soldiers cheered simply while holding their guns. They became a little numb in the battle. Those political commissars known for their fanaticism ignored the behavior of these soldiers because their hearts were also deeply tired. In any case, they are mortals after all.

"But... victory is not the most worthy thing for us to cheer for. All warriors should be proud of themselves. Because of your sacrifice and hard work, the Emperor was able to rise from the throne. He will lead all mankind again, and we will surely win the final victory."