After fully receiving the body's memories, Guilliman could only express his inner thoughts with three words: What the hell?!
In an instant, he understood everything.
He had transmigrated into a nightmarish place — the Warhammer universe's Imperium of Man.
This universe was the epitome of chaos, where the only rule was survival.
Survival, by any means necessary, was victory.
Humanity had struggled in space for forty thousand years — through the Golden Age, the Age of Strife, the Great Crusade, and finally, the Horus Heresy. After that came ten thousand years of the Imperium's existence.
And now... was the most dangerous time for the Imperium.
The main enemy of the Imperium was Abaddon the Despoiler, a warlord empowered by the four Chaos Gods.
He continuously led Chaos forces in invasions of the material universe, paving the way for the Chaos Gods' apocalyptic plans.
Those four Chaos Gods were terrifying — pure conceptual beings that couldn't truly be defeated.
In the ten millennia of the Imperium's history, Abaddon had launched twelve Black Crusades, destroying most of the ancient Blackstone seals that limited the Chaos Gods' entry into reality.
With his Thirteenth Black Crusade, he destroyed Cadia, the most important fortress world — the keystone in the Blackstone sealing network.
Now, the uncontrolled Eye of Terror was spilling Chaos energy into reality, and the Chaos Gods' minions were flooding in, ravaging countless worlds.
A massive warp rift, the Cicatrix Maledictum, had split the Imperium in two. Demons and traitors were appearing everywhere.
The Imperium had become a bleeding giant, and if things continued this way, humanity would soon be doomed.
And now Guilliman — the "Blue Daddy" — had arrived right at this moment. The enemies he faced were too terrifying. This was practically a dead end!
He couldn't help but wince.
It wasn't that he was incompetent — the enemies were just too strong. He couldn't hold them all off.
Worse still, behind it all, those damn Chaos Gods were watching, waiting to strike. One wrong move, and it would be game over.
The roar of a chainsword snapped Guilliman out of his thoughts. In front of him stood Chaos Space Marines and demons.
He'd deal with the current enemies first — then plan his next move.
He casually drew the Emperor's Sword, a blade wreathed in blazing fire.
This was the Emperor's personal weapon, conveniently brought by Tech-Priest Belisarius Cawl, who also provided Guilliman's resurrection armor.
As Guilliman gripped the sword, it awakened. Golden flames surged across the blade, illuminating the golden battlefield.
Now fused with the body's soul, Guilliman felt much more at ease controlling this half-divine body, surging with limitless power.
As soon as he held the sword, battle techniques automatically surfaced in his mind — a natural instinct to wield this powerful form.
His revival brought eerie silence to the battlefield.
The loyalist warriors — humanity's last defenders — all stared at him with ecstatic eyes.
Guilliman's return was like a flicker of hope rising in the endless darkness.
A faint glimpse of redemption amid the despair of doomsday.
The hall went silent.
Compared to the earth-shaking battles raging outside, this place seemed bizarrely quiet.
The oppressive aura of a Primarch made demons and Chaos Marines instinctively recoil, silenced in fear.
Even after ten thousand years, his identity still filled them with dread.
Then — a scream shattered the silence.
A Khorne Berserker covered in bone spikes, wielding a blood-red axe, leapt forward.
To the shock of his comrades, this warrior of the Blood God charged at Guilliman, hoping to offer the Primarch's soul to his master.
Guilliman moved.
Only a Craftworld Eldar warrior — a follower of the god of death known for incredible speed — saw the thunderous strike clearly.
His flaming sword sliced through the air like a phantom.
The Berserker was split cleanly in half, his body flung far away by the force of the strike with a deafening crash.
The sound of his body hitting the ground shattered the spell of silence.
Death held no fear for the minions of Chaos.
With furious roars and hatred-filled cries, demons and Chaos Marines launched an all-out assault on Guilliman.
They had to destroy this reawakened Primarch.
Meanwhile, the surviving Ultramarines, Black Templars, and other loyalist Astartes Chapters all roared in response and charged forward. Blood was spilled once more.
Chainswords and power weapons tore through armor and flesh alike. The hatred was so deep that only one side's total annihilation could end the battle.
"For humanity! For the Emperor! For my Father!" roared Cato Sicarius, slamming his power fist into a traitor's throat, pulverizing his armor and letting the filthy blood splash across his armor.
With Guilliman back, they had hope once again.
Saint Celestine, despite having only one arm left, waved her sword and recited prayers.
Fueled by Guilliman's return, her fighting spirit burned anew.
Faith ignited within her — transforming her into the Emperor's angel of vengeance, cutting down traitor Marines.
The High Marshal of the Black Templars and his surviving comrades also launched a counterattack. Their war cries echoed as they carved a bloody path with their holy swords.
With Guilliman on the battlefield, the loyalists quickly gained the upper hand.
The power of a Primarch was unstoppable. Anyone who stood in his way would face his wrath.
The first to fall were the Chaos Sorcerers, whose powers had shaken the sanctum's defenses and allowed the demons to invade.
Their arrogant sorcery was like paper before Guilliman.
He could snap their necks with ease and reduce their corpses to chunks with a storm of armor-piercing rounds.
Next came the traitor Astartes — once defenders of humanity, now its enemies.
Guilliman showed them no mercy.
Like a god of war, he charged into the hail of gunfire, flaming sword in hand.
A Primarch's reflexes and strength were beyond comprehension.
Against Guilliman, even the superhuman senses of Chaos Marines meant nothing.
He was like a tiger among sheep — a slaughter had begun.
With his first swing, a traitor Marine was cleaved in two — his mighty Terminator armor as fragile as paper.
With the second, a demon was bisected, its cursed blood spraying out as the Emperor's Sword incinerated its very soul — no return to the warp this time.
Then came the third swing, and the fourth — so fast only afterimages remained.
Guilliman moved like lightning, shifting the battle decisively in the loyalists' favor.
The warriors around him roared with passion.
They gathered around him, forming an unstoppable spearhead that tore through enemy lines.
The once-feared demons and Chaos Marines were like grass before the scythe.
Guilliman's rage was like a long-suppressed volcano erupting — his eyes burned with fury, and his flaming sword reaped all who stood before him.
With the last demon inside the sanctum slain, Guilliman finally paused, calming his fury.
He was about to assess the situation, reestablish communication with the scattered Ultramar forces, and retake the planet...
When a clear voice echoed in his mind:
[Target qualifies — activating the Dominion Lord template. Database and support AI now online. Please check promptly.]
[Host may ask questions. The support AI will do its best to answer you~]
Guilliman froze.
Was this his cheat system?
Looks like there's still a chance for a comeback! Maybe a ten-pull gacha, straight to mythic level in three days!
Then it's fists for the Chaos Gods, kicks for Necrons, bites for Tyranids, roasts for Orks — all within reach!
Even the Emperor might have to stand up and call him "Big Bro."
"What can you do?" Guilliman asked immediately.
A transmigration without a cheat is like Adam without Eve — doomed from the start.
Understanding the cheat is the first step to defying fate.
(End of Chapter)