The quantum resonance device hummed, receiving signals from the other side of the galaxy. The holographic projection was constantly refreshed by the influx of data, finally outlining the figure of Roboute Guilliman.
"Lord Regent," Daniel greeted him.
"Saint," Guilliman responded. "I apologize for disturbing you."
"You're not disturbing me." Daniel noted Guilliman's grim expression. "Did something come up?"
Guilliman nodded. "There are indeed some matters I need your take on. A disease called the 'Plague of Tears' has appeared in the star systems of Drow, Thalassa, and Parmenio..."
After Daniel's departure, Guilliman immediately launched an expedition. With the aid of the Pharos Lighthouse, the campaign moved much faster than anticipated. Loyalists everywhere fought back hard, forcing the Chaos factions to retreat, step by step.
However, just as the Loyalists were gaining the upper hand, the Plague of Tears broke out. Victims would shed tears uncontrollably—thick, foul-smelling tears that quickly coated their entire faces and caused malignant redness and swelling.
The disease spread like wildfire, but strangely, a "miracle" occurred when Guilliman arrived at the affected areas: the plague instantly vanished. Wherever Guilliman went, the Plague of Tears disappeared, but the moment he left, it returned.
"Is this Nurgle's handiwork?" Daniel asked.
Guilliman nodded. "Yes. Grand Master Voldus urged me to cut my losses and proceed to Terra first. He believes the Plague of Tears is the Plague God's trick. Whenever I show up, he takes away his 'blessing.' As soon as I leave, he spreads it again."
"I had an argument with Voldus. Seeing Ultramar in such deep suffering, I couldn't simply withdraw. So I contacted you to get your opinion."
Daniel said, "You care too much about your people. For a ruler, kindness is a fatal weakness. The enemy will exploit this to run out the clock on you and drain your energy."
"Your Father has no time to worry about the material world, and your brother's whereabouts are still unknown. Guilliman, you are humanity's only shot, the only one who can currently consolidate the Imperium.
You must learn how to fight Chaos—learn to keep your cards close to your chest like your father, the Emperor, so they can't guess your intentions."
"I finally understand why my father behaved so strangely in the past," Guilliman said self-deprecatingly. "Fighting Chaos is no picnic."
Many of the Emperor's past actions were not understood by the Primarchs. Ten thousand years later, Guilliman reviewed the Emperor's actions from a historical perspective and realized how terrifying his father's judgment and grasp of the big picture truly were. He challenged the gods with his mortal wisdom, intending to overthrow their very thrones.
"If it were your father, how do you think he would deal with this matter?" Daniel tossed the question back at Guilliman.
"He would abandon Ultramar without hesitation, return to Terra, seize the reins of power, and then find a way to gather troops and fight the enemy again." Guilliman knew his father inside and out.
"You know the answer, and you're communicating with me only to confirm it," Daniel said. "Then I can tell you now, go to Terra, Lord Regent. If you stay in Macragge, you'll be a sitting duck, unable to make any waves."
"You must abandon Ultramar and establish your own identity. You are the ruler of the Imperium and the leader of humanity. Necessary sacrifices are part of the game."
"Besides, the situation in Ultramar isn't all bad. Before you returned, your heir, Calgar, protected it well. You just need to hand over the power to him."
"I understand. I will proceed to Terra," Guilliman said. "Thank you for your guidance, Saint. For the sake of human civilization, necessary sacrifices must always be made."
"Don't worry too much. I'll find a way to take care of Ultramar and have a Saint stay by Calgar's side. If he runs into an enemy or a problem he can't solve, I'll help him."
Daniel made the promise to set Guilliman's mind at ease, knowing the Primarch's attachment to Ultramar—his little kingdom. During the Great Crusade, Guilliman always went the extra mile to maintain its stability and peace.
As soon as the promise was made, a huge weight lifted from Guilliman's grim face. This made Daniel wonder for a moment if the guy had deliberately played him for that promise.
Before the communication ended, Guilliman told Daniel one more thing. Archmagos Cawl was installing a small beacon aboard the Macragge's Glory. Once successfully completed, the Macragge's Glory and the Imperial Glory could now communicate in real-time.
This surprised Daniel. He had assumed that given Cawl's personality, he would hesitate and keep a close eye on Sotha for a while before tentatively setting up the lighthouse. It was likely the Plague of Tears incident that made the Primarch realize the vital importance of communication and choose to compromise.
Of course, only one beacon was built on the Macragge's Glory. For the time being, it was enough for Arale to remotely assign tasks and distribute rewards to players.
The communication ended, and the projection flickered off.
Daniel thought about Guilliman's pilgrimage. As the only active Loyalist Primarch, Guilliman was under the microscope of the gods. The other Traitor Primarchs were also secretly plotting sinister plans, intending to drag their brother into the eternal hell. There were many crises along the way; Magnus and Fulgrim could make an appearance.
"Master." Arale interrupted Daniel's thoughts.
"What's wrong?" Daniel looked at the little Angel.
"The list for the ninth batch of players is out. Do you need to take a peek?" Arale said.
"Let's take a look." Daniel put the thoughts about the pilgrimage expedition out of his mind and got down to business.
The projection screen appeared in front of Daniel. A total of 18,000 player IDs were displayed.
Daniel glanced around, and his gaze stopped on the ID of the 9999th player, frowning.
Guilliman is the Sun
"Old Thirteen? Did he change his name?"
"Chosen for the ninth time, and such a sensitive number. Is the Emperor on Tzeentch's payroll?"
"Or is he related to Tzeentch?" Arale leaned over and asked. "Is there a problem, Master?"
Daniel continued to scroll down and shook his head. "No problem, let's roll with it." It wasn't that Daniel was being careless. If the Emperor was Tzeentch's puppet, then it didn't matter if Old Thirteen was given a spot in the game or not. If the Emperor wasn't controlled by Tzeentch, then the incident with Old Thirteen was just a coincidence.
He was quite curious about this, though. What kind of relationship did Old Thirteen have with the Changer of Ways?! Could he be Tzeentch's favorite daemon?
"Okay, Master, I'll go distribute the helmets right away."
Arale left and distributed the gaming helmets to the selected players.
As game spots were distributed, the official forum and chat group for Warhammer OL came alive.
Chat group.
Guilliman is the sun: ['laughing.jpg'] ['arrogant.jpg'] ['arrogant.jpg'] "I got it, I got it, Guys, I finally hit the jackpot!"
Alpaca: "What's the commotion with Old Thirteen?"
SeriousSam: "Have you flipped your lid?"
Guilliman is the sun: "I'm so jacked up, I feel like I'm going to pass out. I need a foster father to slap some sense into me."
Master Warmaster: "Don't be afraid, child. Your foster father is here."
Daigo: "Count me in, too."
Director: "Me too."
Spaceking: "@Guilliman is the sun, I never realized so many foster fathers cared about you?"
Guilliman is the sun: "Get outta here, I got an alpha test spot! I'm not some crying drama queen."
"I'd thrown in the towel, but who'd have thought I'd get this out of the blue."
Afterwards, he sent a photo to the group: the Warhammer OL gaming helmet.
Wronghammer: "Did you try the Tzeentch lottery again last time?"
Doraemon is the Omnissiah: "Ninth time's the charm—he definitely believes in Tzeentch."
The Big Bad Wolf: "You cursed Chosen of Tzeentch! Where's the Inquisitor when you need one?"
"..."
Guilliman is the sun: "You boneheads, I'm loyal to the Emperor! As the saying goes, there is only one sun in the sky, and in my heart, there is only one sun: the Emperor!"
Master Warmaster: "Take a look at your ID before you say that."
Guilliman is the sun: "Guilliman is the little sun in my heart."
"..."
The ninth batch of players logged in three days after the helmets were distributed. The entry point, as always, was the Cathedral of Tyrian Hive.
Nearly 20,000 players logged in simultaneously, making the scene quite spectacular. Several high-ranking officials of the Tyrian Hive had to redeploy personnel to maintain order.
Old players such as Doraemon and MC Mythology arrived early to prepare for the new round of recruitment.
"There are so many newcomers this time. It's a sea of faces."
"Yeah, I wonder if we'll land any big fish this time. I hope they can recruit more talent in science and engineering."
"We need a pilot, a pilot!"
"Is there anyone who has served in the Navy? We want those who have served in the Navy!"
"..."
Just then, there was a commotion in the crowd.
A player who was obviously much bigger than the others was groping his face in confusion. Even at Level One, the guy's physique was easily on par with an Astartes—maybe even a notch above.
A normal Astartes is only about two meters tall, but this guy stood over three meters, only slightly shorter than the Guide. His eyes held an indescribable mix of simplicity and a quiet kind of wisdom.
"Holy Moly, is that an Ogryn?!"
"Is it a hidden character?"
"Are there any hidden characters?"
"What are the conditions?"
"..."
Doraemon and MC Legend exchanged a look, then separated from the crowd with the others and walked up to the Ogryn.
"Are you Old Thirteen?"
The Ogryn touched his head and nodded. "Who are you?"
"I'm Doraemon. Damn it, Old Thirteen, you still say you're not Tzeentch's Saint?"
"I'm an Ogryn. What's that gotta do with being Tzeentch's Chosen?"
Doraemon stretched out her hands and said, "Count the fingers on my hands. After you count, I'll tell you where the problem lies."
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10."