A cold glint flashed in Lion's eyes, and he instantly perceived Guilliman's intention. His figure moved swiftly, his cloak cutting a rapid arc through the air, like a sharp blade descending with the night.
He pressed a hand on Konrad Curze's shoulder, gently pushing him backward. Konrad Curze didn't even have time to react before Lion had him steadily protected behind him.
At the same time, Lion suddenly drew his sword with his other hand, the silver-white blade leaving a chilling afterimage in the air—
"Clang—!!!"
The emperors sword and the sword of loyalty clashed, and the collision of flames and the decomposition field instantly erupted with scorching light. The air seemed to be instantly sucked out, and the entire hall was swept by a fierce wind from the vibrating shockwave.
Lion's arm was as steady as a rock, his gaze as sharp as an eagle's. He stared at Guilliman, his voice low and dangerous: "Calm down, Robert."
"Calm down?"
Guilliman's eyes blazed with fire, as if all reason had been consumed by rage.
"How can you tell me to calm down! Brother, do you know who you're protecting?! He tried to kill my foster mother, Lady Yuton!!!"
His voice reverberated throughout the hall, echoing in the ears of all his brothers, each word like a thunderous roar, accompanied by the leaping spiritual flames on his sword, like the burning fury of a wildfire.
"Have you also betrayed us, Lion?!"
The air suddenly became incredibly heavy; every Primarch could feel the undisguised fury and grief.
Konrad Curze's body stiffened slightly; his fingers unconsciously clutched a corner of his cloak. His lowered dark hair concealed his expression, but he neither retreated nor offered an explanation.
Dorn's gaze sharpened slightly, while Perturabo frowned, as if deep in thought. Chagatai looked at Guilliman, then at Lion, the smile completely gone from his face, replaced by a rare expression of solemnity.
However, due to his physical aging, Lion actually lost in this struggle of power. As Lion's body trembled slightly, the sword of loyalty could no longer prevent the emperors sword from stabbing towards Konrad Curze.
And Konrad Curze, who could have escaped long ago, did not leave; instead, he closed his eyes, awaiting Guilliman's judgment.
Almost in a flash of lightning, Dorn and Chagatai transformed into two swift blurs, rushing forward like thunder, desperately grabbing Guilliman's arms and body, trying to stop this insane strike.
Perturabo's reaction was equally swift; he lunged forward, supporting the aging and slightly swaying Lion, steadily holding his elder brother.
At the same time, Russ moved with bestial speed. He unhesitatingly grabbed Magnus along with his wheelchair and flung him aside, roaring, "Magnus, you're in the way!"
The wheelchair, with Magnus in it, slid several meters, almost hitting a certain black-armored Space Marine who wished to remain anonymous. The latter reflexively reached out to catch his red father, his face full of helplessness.
Magnus subconsciously looked back. Although his face was obscured by his helmet, Magnus still recognized his identity:
"Kalyan? What are you doing here?"
However, Guilliman's sword remained unstoppable, flames burning along the edge of the emperors sword, pointing directly at Konrad Curze's forehead with irresistible might.
In this life-or-death moment, Russ suddenly drew his war axe from his waist and threw it with an upward swing. The axe blade cut a furious arc through the air, heading straight for Guilliman's sword, attempting to alter the sword's trajectory with its impact.
However... just as the flame-scorched sword tip was about to pierce Konrad Curze's brow, a pale, small hand, like a pale moonlight, suddenly appeared before the blade, unhesitatingly grasping the blade burning with the Emperor's Flame!
"Enough. Robert... this isn't like you."
The voice was soft and calm, yet carried an undeniable conviction, as if from the end of time, freezing the clamor of the entire hall instantly.
Flames danced between that hand, yet did not scorch the snow-white skin. The slender fingertips held the blade steadily, as if grasping not the emperors sword capable of splitting stars, but merely an insignificant twig.
Everyone's gaze converged on the owner of that hand; at this moment, the golden-haired little boy Konrad Curze held in his arms... "The Great Angel! Sanguinius!"
Guilliman's pupils suddenly contracted; the Emperor's Flame on the sword blade burned wildly, yet could not budge those pale and firm hands in the slightest.
Guilliman's breath hitched, and his rage was instantly replaced by shock.
"Sanguinius..." Guilliman's voice was low, tinged with disbelief.
The Primarchs' expressions varied; Dorn raised an eyebrow slightly, Perturabo frowned, Russ's wolf-like golden eyes widened, and Chagatai was uncharacteristically silent.
All the Primarchs' inner thoughts: "Why is even the child version of Sanguinius so strong! Is there really no end to this favoritism!"
Even Magnus stopped his brief conversation with Kalyan, turning his head to stare intently at the scene before him with his one remaining eye.
The golden-haired little angel looked up. His face, though still youthful, carried the imposing, un-angered demeanor of his adult self. He did not struggle, nor did he panic, nor did he flinch from Guilliman's sword tip pressed before him.
He merely sighed, his voice soft, yet like the dawn breaking through the night, carrying an irresistible calming power.
"Robert, your anger has blinded you."
Sanguinius exerted a slight force, and his pale hand slowly pushed away the blade burning with the Emperor's Flame. His palm remained completely unharmed, not even its temperature had changed.
"If you strike this blow now, you will regret it."
Guilliman's breathing was ragged, his fingers trembled slightly, but finally, he slowly retracted his sword, and the flames on the blade gradually subsided. His gaze still held anger and struggle, but facing this sudden appearance of Sanguinius, he ultimately could not force himself to swing the sword further.
Silence filled the air; all the Primarchs were immersed in this sudden turn of events. And Konrad Curze finally opened his eyes. He looked down at the golden-haired little angel in his arms, his expression complex, but he did not speak.
Lion let out a soft breath, his hand gripping the sword of loyalty finally relaxing a little. His gaze was deep, as if he were contemplating something.
"Sanguinius..." Guilliman finally spoke, his voice low and slow, "How did you come back? Why are you... like this... now?"
However, the golden-haired little boy merely blinked, revealing a meaningful smile.
"That's a good question, Robert."
"But for now... perhaps we should consider how to calm down our rational, calm Robert?"
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