"It's good news that the situation hasn't worsened."
Roboute Guilliman smiled when he saw the look on Eisenhorn's face.
The heavy task of guarding the daemon had taken its toll on the aging Inquisitor.
He had grown much older.
When he walked, the signs of age were clearly visible.
"Your condition isn't good," Guilliman said, looking at Eisenhorn. "The daemon has placed a great burden on you, rapidly draining your life force and energy."
"Not everyone can be as powerful as you, my lord. But I can still resist the pressure Cherubael is putting on me," Eisenhorn said. "I am serving the Supreme Imperium, persevering for the survival of our race. My safety is not something you need to worry about too much, my lord. Death is not something I find difficult to accept."
Eisenhorn said sincerely.
When facing Guilliman, Cherubael was as cowardly as a soft egg.
But when facing ordinary people, he was still a twisted, evil, powerful, and terrifying daemon prince.
The amount of energy required to resist the whispers of a daemon prince was terrifyingly immense.
For the already aging Eisenhorn, the burden was heavy.
"If you wish to rest, I can allow it," Guilliman said with a hint of pity.
Eisenhorn let out a hearty laugh.
"I'd rather die on the battlefield than in a sickbed, my lord."
Seeing Eisenhorn's firm attitude, Guilliman no longer insisted.
Everyone had their own choices.
Respecting others was the most important thing.
Guilliman strode towards the elevator, and seven or eight minutes later, entered the top level of Macragge's Glory.
Stepping out of the passage, the members of the Honour Guard were still faithfully standing at their posts.
They were as silent as ever, fulfilling their duties.
Beside the Honour Guard, Sicarius was pacing back and forth.
He wasn't wearing his helmet.
This allowed Guilliman to see the expression on his face from a distance.
There was some joy, but also some anxious impatience.
It seemed that there were many pieces of news to make him wear such an expression.
"What happened, Captain Sicarius?" Guilliman walked over and stood beside Sicarius.
Sicarius turned around and saluted, "My lord."
"There's no need for such elaborate formalities. I told you to pursue efficiency, Sicarius," Guilliman said in a deep voice. "Tell me what has happened or what is the latest intelligence?"
"Good news has come from many Chapters such as the Silver Skulls, Fire Hawks, and Nova Marines. They have completed the strategic tasks you assigned, and the strength of the orks is being rapidly weakened."
"That is indeed good news. We are constantly gaining advantages and victories. We should be able to clear out the orks here very soon."
"My lord, there is also bad news."
"Speak."
"We have found traces of the tyranids. A tendril is heading towards the Charadon Sector and is expected to make contact with the outer systems of the Charadon Sector in six months."
"Tyranids?" Guilliman frowned.
"It is a tendril fleet from the Behemoth tyranids, approaching. As of now, we do not know if the main fleet of this hive fleet is also heading towards the Charadon Sector. If so, it would be a terrible disaster," Sicarius said.
The tyranids, also known as the Great Devourer, are terrifying creatures from outside the galaxy.
They exist only to consume, evolve, and increase their numbers.
The Imperium officially confirmed the location of the entire species as the planet Tyran, hence calling them the tyranids.
Tyranids usually appear in the form of Hive Fleets within the galaxy.
These are clusters of giant spacefaring organisms capable of transporting or producing smaller individuals within their bodies.
Tyranids are extremely adaptable and can restructure or modify the structure of their genome by consuming other species, thereby continuously improving their combat and survival abilities.
Planets attacked by the tyranids eventually become barren rocks, with even bacteria being absorbed along with the atmosphere.
These creatures can be said to be the most terrifying threat to all civilized races.
To this day, no race has any understanding of the tyranids' situation outside the galaxy.
Even more terrifying is that every single tyranid individual is controlled by a unified hive mind called the Hive Mind.
The Hive Mind is so powerful that it is almost godlike, capable of manifesting a vast shadow in the warp.
Wherever its shadow reaches, it is enough to drive psykers to madness.
Once besieged by the tyranids, a star system cannot even send out a distress signal.
Even daemons that manifest can have their connection to the warp severed by the Hive Mind's shadow, forcing them to return to the warp.
"Alright, the situation has become more complicated. orks, tyranids, and necrons. We are facing three threats simultaneously."
Guilliman shook his head and strode towards his strategium.
Sicarius followed closely, maintaining conversation with Guilliman as they walked.
"Do we need to redeploy more Chapters? The strength of the tyranids cannot be underestimated. We need more support."
"Every Chapter has its mission. The Great Rift is threatening the Imperium of Man. Those Chapters must continue to fulfill their duties in their war zones, maintaining the status quo of the Imperium as much as possible. Abruptly withdrawing them will inevitably plunge various war zones into difficulties, and may even lead to those places falling out of the Imperium's control."
Guilliman rejected Sicarius' suggestion.
Withdrawing those Chapters would only make the situation worse.
"Then what do you plan to do?" Sicarius asked.
"Our current military strength is already sufficient to deal with these threats, and the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar will continuously provide us with warriors and weapons. By the time the tyranid fleet reaches the Charadon Sector, our strength will be vastly different from what it is now."
Arriving at the entrance of the strategium, accompanied by the sound of machinery turning, two golden beams appeared and performed a retinal scan on Guilliman.
After the scan was completed, a clear and pleasant sound rang out.
The metal door of the strategium slowly opened.
"I am somewhat concerned. The strength of the necrons, tyranids, and orks cannot be underestimated. We will be overly strained dealing with these xenos races with only our current military strength," Sicarius said tactfully after a moment of thought.
"I know what you want to say. You think the forces we have are too weak and we can't win, right?" Guilliman said with a smile.
"Yes, my lord," Sicarius said.
"Calgar is on his way to support us. He is bringing us a gift, a gift that is enough to make the galaxy tremble under humanity's feet once again."
Guilliman smiled, a hint of a grin on his face.
"A gift?" Confusion appeared on Sicarius' face. "What kind of gift?"
"It's a secret, Sicarius, but it won't disappoint you."
Guilliman activated the holographic projector in the strategium.
The projection displayed the detailed situation of the entire Charadon Sector.
Many planets showed red runes, indicating that Imperial forces were engaging ork forces in those systems.
There were a total of over thirteen hundred battlefields in the entire sector.
The ordinary orks were left to the Astra Militarum to confront and eliminate.
The powerful ork forces were left to the Primaris Space Marines to confront.
Currently, there were 30 Chapters moving through the various systems, divided into companies, or combined together, providing support to the various battlefields.
Sicarius watched the actions of the Primarch, his resolute face filled with confusion.
What gift had Calgar brought?