"We must show the Primarch the most perfect side of our Legion!" Vosotho's eyes burned with intensity.
Gage nodded, "I wholeheartedly agree!"
"Our Legion must hold nothing back. Every warrior, every piece of equipment, every slumbering Dreadnought, we must assemble the full force!"
"I still agree!"
"For the Primarch!"
Gage reminded him, "But you need to hurry. They can barely contain themselves."
He and Vosotho could accompany their gene-father in the garden, could attend the banquet with him.
But tens of thousands of other warriors did not have this honour. They could only wait anxiously in orbit, craning their necks in longing.
Although the Legion were strict in discipline, and there would certainly be no bizarre accidents like the machine spirits suddenly going berserk causing drop pods to fall en masse, or Stormbirds suffering sudden, inexplicable breakdowns forcing emergency landings while conveniently full of Astartes...
The warriors' restlessness was still spreading. They all longed to pay homage to their gene-father in person!
Before the Primarch's return, they had to endure their suffering.
Now that the Primarch had returned, they still had to endure.
So what was the point of the Primarch's return?
Vosotho said, "Then issue the order to the Legion immediately. A victory parade will be held on Macragge at noon tomorrow."
"I have already discussed it with Consul Konor. The entire population of Macragge will witness the Primarch's homecoming ceremony!"
Today did not belong to the War-Born. But tomorrow would belong to the Primarch and the Legion!
When the news reached the orbital fleet, the War-Born would inevitably spend a sleepless night.
They had to deploy tens of thousands of warriors and their supporting vehicles overnight. This was not a war mobilization, but a peacetime victory parade.
It was undoubtedly a waste of resources.
But for a Primarch's return, who would dare say it wasn't worth it?
When the Primarch of the Eighth Legion, Curze, returned, the Emperor also expended vast resources to recover him.
So they had ample reason to explain to the world: the Emperor did it too.
.....
In the study of the Consul's domus, Guilliman was reviewing the history of the War-Born Legion.
This personal Cogitator, personally presented by Vosotho, was directly connected to the War-Born's central database. The Primarch had the authority to access any information.
The War-Born wanted to show Guilliman their most perfect side, and they were going all out to prepare a grand victory parade.
Guilliman did not want to disappoint his sons' eager expectations. He was the War-Born's Primarch. He had to fully understand his sons and his Legion!
Caelan had told him an overview of the War-Born, but that wasn't detailed enough.
His father was only mortal, and mortal energy was limited.
He knew the War-Born, but he didn't know every warrior, every battle of the War-Born.
He didn't need to understand the Legions, because he was the Father of Primarchs.
He only needed to be responsible for the Primarchs' education, and he only needed to understand the Primarchs.
The Legions belonged to the Primarchs and must be understood by the Primarchs themselves.
But even with a Primarch's prodigious memory, he couldn't master the details of tens of thousands of warriors in a single night.
He could only roughly remember their names and faces, and their most glorious honours.
Among all the Imperium's Legions, the War-Born were not particularly outstanding.
They originated in the final years of the Unification Wars, being one of the last Legions to be founded.
The War-Born's first intake of recruits came from the Panpocro tribes near the equatorial zone, the war families of the Saragon enclave, the oligarchic hive cities of Mydafric, and the cannibal tribes of the Caucasian steppes.
Although the cultures and origins of these groups varied, they all shared one thing in common:
In the late Unification Wars, they had responded to the Emperor's forces with violent and bitter resistance, a resistance that ultimately did not end with negotiated surrender.
Aside from detained refugees and orphans who survived the wars, these tribes were almost completely wiped out.
The initial members of the Thirteenth Legion were born during the wars, hence the name 'War-Born'.
It is worth noting that among all Legions, the War-Born were the only ones who never participated in the Terran Unification Wars. Even the Thousand Sons had the opportunity to suppress techno-barbarians.
The War-Born's first recorded combat appears in the First Lunar Pacification Campaign.
Although the Terran Unification Wars were still ongoing at the time, this campaign is not counted as part of them.
There were still seventy-seven years until the official start of the Great Crusade, yet it is still recorded in the Imperium's history as the first major battle of the Great Crusade.
This made the War-Born uniquely positioned among the many Legions.
They gained no honour in the Unification Wars but secured the first victory in the Great Crusade.
Perhaps this very history made the Thirteenth Legion especially hungry for honour.
Failing to participate in the Terran Unification Wars caused the War-Born to miss out on much honour, but it also inadvertently preserved their full organizational structure.
Although the Thirteenth Legion's gene-seed implantation success rate was only average, they had one of the lowest mutation rates, allowing the Legion to steadily expand its numbers.
Before any Primarchs had returned, the War-Born's honours earned during the Great Crusade ranked in the top three.
Apart from the First Legion, which firmly held first place, almost no other Legion could compete with them.
However, the War-Born's flaws were also very apparent.
Each Primarch possesses a completely different personality and power. The War-Born had perfectly inherited Guilliman's traits. This was a Legion that perfectly blended aggression and restraint, discipline and determination.
Compared to other Legiones Astartess, the War-Born exhibited stronger aggressiveness, while maintaining an astonishing level of organization and hierarchy.
At the same time, the War-Born also displayed obvious individualism and a tendency towards irritability, along with a near-pathological dedication to achieving designated goals.
This distinct personality also shaped their unique war philosophy: they believed in achieving victory at the minimum cost.
They never hesitated to use the most extreme weapons of war, whether weapons of mass destruction or Exterminatus orders.
As long as it ensured victory, they would implement it without hesitation.
Their enemies might see the War-Born as cold and ruthless, but they called it efficiency.
The more Guilliman read, the more silent he became. His sons were exactly like him.
"This is not the Legion I want," Guilliman murmured to himself.
But they were his sons. This was his Legion.
Since he didn't want a Legion like this, he should change it, not evade this responsibility!
His father had never evaded the responsibility of educating the Primarchs. He would not evade the responsibility of educating his sons.
He would turn the War-Born into the Legion he wanted.
Whether him or his sons, their essence was to be born for war.
Since he could restrain his essence, so could his sons.
They could use it, but they must never succumb to it.
If humans succumb to their primal animal instincts, they become beasts.
If he and his sons succumbed to their nature for war, what would they become?
Guilliman knew the answer very well, which was why he had always rejected that nature.
His Legion had already shown him the consequences of succumbing to that nature.
In 833.M30, nine years ago, the Thirteenth Legion had 33,000 warriors.
Among the Legions whose Primarchs had not yet returned, the War-Born ranked first.
That year, eleven worlds of the Osiris Cluster abruptly declared secession from the Imperium.
The rebels not only detained Imperial merchant ships but even dared to open fire on naval patrols.
The Osiris Cluster had been recovered by the Thirteenth Legion in 778.M30 with relatively little bloodshed.
The Osiris rebellion was like a resounding slap in the face to the War-Born.
The Thirteenth Legion saw it as a disgrace and was eager to end the matter quickly to wipe away the shame.
In a joint operation with the Seventh Legion, they tore through the rebels' space defences. Victory seemed within reach.
However, when the two Legions launched a decapitation strike on the hive city, the battle suddenly reversed.
A mysterious xenos fleet suddenly attacked the Imperial fleet, while a large number of xenos forces appeared on the ground. The War-Born had unknowingly fallen into a carefully laid death trap.
Had Mortarion not foreseen the crisis through his numerology and led the Fourteenth Legion to the rescue in time, using their unique anti-psyker forces to rout these psychic xenos, the War-Born would likely have suffered a crushing defeat.
Even so, the battle cost the Thirteenth Legion over two thousand Astartes dead and dozens of ships destroyed.
The root of this disaster lay in the Thirteenth Legion's extreme addiction to honour and their blind confidence in their own abilities.
They recklessly assumed that worlds they had once conquered could be easily retaken, without ever considering why a world that had been loyal for forty-five years would rebel.
Guilliman knew the reason. The anger of having their honour tarnished had overridden the reason of Vosotho and the other Astartes.
Because he was exactly the same.
This was his greatest genetic flaw.
Once consumed by rage, even the reins of reason couldn't pull him back in time, and he would become violent and reckless, driven by anger.
Father had once told him this behaviour was called 'getting carried away'. His sons had gotten carried away during the Osiris Rebellion.
If Mortarion hadn't saved his Legion in time, he would now likely be facing the same predicament as Fulgrim.
But Fulgrim had Sanguinius. He did not.
Now that he had returned to the Imperium and would soon lead his Legion personally, he would use past mistakes as a warning to his sons.
They would never make the same error again. The Thirteenth Legion must remember well not to get carried away!
"This is my Legion!" Guilliman murmured to himself, the surging excitement in his chest now seeming difficult to suppress.
His sons, his Legion, were all waiting for him. They would race together across the galaxy, fighting side-by-side on the Great Crusade!
War, conquest, and glory all awaited him!
Guilliman would not lose his mind over this, nor would he blindly crave honour.
But it still excited the Primarch!
The Thirteenth Legion was the Legion his biological father had given him. The Great Crusade was his biological father's dream. And the fifty thousand worlds of Ultramar were his godfather's expectation!
All of this was built on war and conquest. Guilliman could not avoid it, nor could his brothers. It was their destined mission.
He could, of course, give up.
Focus on being Consul of Macragge, draw a line between himself and war for the rest of his life.
The Emperor would be very disappointed, but that would be okay. His two adoptive fathers and his adoptive mother would support him.
But could he bear to give it up?
Guilliman could not.
He had been suppressing his nature. He did not desire war, but war was for peace.
He could not bear to give up the opportunity to personally shape humanity's future and create lasting peace for mankind.
If he chose to give up, he would also be unable to face his other brothers!
He was a Primarch. How was giving up different from evading?
His brothers had not evaded. Neither would he.
Father had carefully taught him for years, not so he could evade this responsibility.
Evading was the choice of a coward. It would not bring peace. It would only bring humiliation and a life of ignominy!
But he did not want the 'War-Born'. He had already decided on the name for his Legion.
...
Konor asked, "What is the purpose of a victory parade?"
Gallan answered, "To display military might."
A nation's victory parade is a window to showcase its military's spirit and bearing.
If one army's formation is as lax as a picnic, while another is disciplined and perfectly uniform...
Equipment and technology certainly play a decisive role in victory or defeat. But when the technological levels of two armies are similar, the outcome is already obvious.
Even if some people see parades as merely image projects...
If even the parade is so lax, one can imagine how degenerate that army has become.
Of course, this only applies to the Imperium of Man.
For this parade, the Legion might simply want to display their military bearing to the Primarch.
But in the eyes of the Macraggian people, this was the Imperium demonstrating its power.
This demonstration was not pejorative, because the disparity in power was just that vast.
But Konor could also use it as leverage to intimidate the Senate.
Gallan's eyes showed unconcealed envy. "Those superhuman warriors possess power far beyond mortal reach. Konor, fate has truly favoured you."
Since completely letting go of his obsession, this was not the first time he had so directly expressed his envy to Konor.
Konor warned him gravely, "Do not trust fate!"
Gallan was taken aback. Konor then showed an apologetic expression. "Sorry. Caelan preaches this to me all day, and I've become a bit sensitive myself."
Gallan frowned. "Is it really that terrible?"
Konor said, "More terrible than you imagine."
.....
"Can I become one of those superhuman warriors too?"
Julius tossed and turned excitedly.
Even in the M10 era, genetic modification was absolutely not a common commodity.
It was the same in any era: good things are supplied first to the upper classes. The lower classes don't even get leftovers.
Even during the great colonial era after M15, this situation would not improve.
Even though different colonies had little contact with each other and no direct rule over one another, seemingly without oppression...
That was only between the rulers of different colonies.
Within the same colony, the ruler and the ruled still had a clear hierarchical mindset.
Wasn't Macragge exactly like that?
Equality for all only ever existed in dreams.
But now, the opportunity to become a superhuman warrior was right before him. How could Julius refuse?
Even if it meant becoming Guilliman's son, he didn't mind.
Although he wouldn't be able to have children, his father was still young. Gallan could always give him another younger brother.
Only...
Julius looked up at the Guardian Spirit, a trace of worry appearing between his brows.
With Solomon around, could he truly become a Astarte without hidden dangers?
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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