Guilliman declined the bishops' request without even a second thought.
It's not the right time yet.
When we meet, how will we be able to intimidate these bishops
"Our meeting shall take place only on the planet Espandor, in front of the most sacred cathedral where the Emperor's faith is strongest. This meeting shall take place in the presence of my father, not on my flagship."
Guilliman's voice echoed across the many channels in the Espandor system, cheering countless believers.
Guilliman's words represented their approval.
The emperor's own children believe that their faith is sacred, which makes them extremely excited. They feel their blood boiling and a blazing flame burning in their hearts.
The Lord of Ultramar must also be a loyal follower of his father.
He is the Emperor's true spokesperson, the most legitimate spokesperson for the state religion, and the embodiment of the Emperor's will.
After hearing Guilliman's words, several bishops apologized for their recklessness and personally used thorny iron bars to whip their bodies as a punishment for their arrogance and selfishness.
The Stormbirds they were riding on also joined Guilliman's fleet and headed towards the starport of Espandor.
A grand ceremony is also being prepared.
... ... ... ..
Four hours later.
The surface of the planet Espandor, the largest city, the capital of faith.
Five giant horns made of gold emitted a sharp and hoarse sound.
The deafening sound of the trumpets echoed throughout the huge city filled with burning incense and prayers, reaching every corner to ensure that every believer could hear it clearly.
The sound of trumpets heralded the coming of the Emperor's Son, the Lord of Ultramar.
These golden horns were made with donations from believers and are engraved with countless scriptures.
Each horn weighed several tons and was placed high on sturdy towers and castle walls, used only during the most important celebrations.
The hoarse roar of the horn slowly faded away, and the music played by the state religious band composed of countless believers followed.
The sounds of trumpets, horns, and bass drums came together to play to the rhythm of an imperial poem composed by a musician of extraordinary talent.
A large group of flying objects emerged from various majestic temples to the sound of grand music.
Buzzing servo skulls, cherubim that looked like human babies, genetic creations cloned by Mechanicus technology, and old priests sitting on anti-gravity preachers all flew over the crowd.
They appeared in a cloud of incense, the scented smoke swirling in eddies stirred by the gilded banners they carried.
A dozen different hymns were sung simultaneously to a variety of beautiful melodies, blending with the shouts of priests exhorting believers to venerate the Emperor.
Thousands of high-ranking priests walked out of their respective temples. Some of them floated, some walked, some crawled, and some rode on mounts. Everyone's face was filled with enthusiasm and excitement.
Their servants followed closely behind, singing the Emperor's poems together to overwhelm their peers and prove that they were the most devout believers.
In the crowd, automatic preaching machines were moving forward, and the mechanical arms supporting them kept making clanking sounds.
These machines contain the brains of the most devout believers, and after special processing and program coding, they continue to work for the Emperor.
They use primitive loudspeakers to roar with religious language, encouraging people to dedicate themselves to the Emperor.
Hunchbacked stragglers were scattered among the crowd, holding incense burners with rising green smoke and chanting sacred imperial poems.
On several luxurious procession vehicles, bishops stood on platforms holding golden scepters and delivered extremely fanatical speeches.
The heavy procession vehicle was pulled by a group of naked slaves, and the heavy iron chains seemed to be about to crush their sinful bodies.
The crusaders whipped the sinners who were unwilling to work hard, forcing them to pull the carts harder.
The welcoming ceremony was unprecedentedly grand.
Every believer expressed his joy at the Primarch's arrival in his own way.
As the air defense shield of the planet Espandor was shut down, many warships equipped with weapons capable of destroying the world appeared in the dark atmosphere.
The huge Macragge's Glory is particularly eye-catching.
A group of Stormbirds flew out from the huge warship. They were all a uniform azure blue, with the edges of their wings dotted with a little dark green, like the color of an ancient forest.
Behind the Stormbirds was a landing fleet consisting of Thunderhawks, troop transports, and heavy gunboats.
They were neatly organized and maintained in perfection, passing through the atmosphere and entering the sky port of the City of Faith.
The troop transports were docked at the wide airport, and the sound of the air currents even drowned out the cheers of the believers.
With a soft hiss of high-pressure gas, the transport ship slowly opened its hatch.
Five hundred Space Marines in crested helmets stepped out of the cabin, their cloaks fluttering behind them.
They stood in two lines, bolters clutched, on either side of the red-carpeted aisle, scanning the area for any possible threats.
Under the gaze of everyone's anticipation, a living god finally appeared before the world.
He was wearing a suit of azure and bright gold armor, with a simple, practical white cape fluttering behind him.
In the center of the breastplate was the golden emblem of the Empire's double-headed eagle, and a green laurel wreath was worn on the flawless forehead.
Countless believers burst into cheers as this living god appeared, and the cheers were as loud as the waves of the sea, majestic and deafening.
Guilliman smiled and waved to the crowd, causing them to cheer even more wildly.
He stepped onto the anti-gravity suspension platform parked nearby and walked along the wide avenue paved with red carpet.
Amid cheers, Guilliman and his party arrived in front of the largest church in Espandor.
A statue of the Emperor, hundreds of kilometers tall and piercing the atmosphere, stands in the giant square in front of the church.
The bishops were waiting for the Primarch at the door of the church.
When he stepped down from the suspended platform, they walked up to him one by one and saluted to show their respect.
“This kind of ceremony is really grand.”
Guilliman looked at the bishops and said with a smile.
He knew that the state religion was wealthy; after all, it was the only designated religion in the empire and could collect religious tithes.
But as he walked along, Guilliman was still amazed by the wealth of the State Church.
The decorations of those churches and their daily expenses were enough to support a fairly large army.
This is just a missionary planet. If other church planets are included, I'm afraid they can all support an army strong enough to sweep away the aliens.
"In order to promote the glory of the Emperor, a little waste is necessary." A bishop stepped forward and explained in a respectful tone.
"Very good. If the Emperor were to resurrect and see your piety, he would probably be very pleased." Guilliman said with a smile, words that would earn him a big slap in the face from the Emperor.
The thing the emperor hated most in his life was religion, and he wished he could tie all the charlatans to the stake.
In the early days of the Great Crusade, wherever the emperor went, even the ant nests in the temples had to be poured with boiling water. One can imagine what the emperor's attitude towards religion was.
At the beginning, Lorgar only built a City of Faith. Even as the Primarch, he was forced to kneel down on one knee and admit his mistake, and the City of Faith was burned down to ruins.
The current state religion is infinitely crazier than Lorgar. If the Emperor of the Great Crusade were to travel to this era, I'm afraid he would be the first to overthrow the state religion.
Hearing Guilliman's words, the faces of several bishops were filled with excitement, their bodies trembling.
Being recognized by the Emperor's son would definitely bring many benefits to the state religion.
Before these guys could finish getting excited, Guilliman changed the subject and his tone became much higher.
"However, although you are pious, you have not fully understood my father's original intention, and you have even distorted it. I can't help but feel confused. I want to know whether you have been deceived or you are heretics from the beginning."
Guilliman said, placing his hand on the Emperor's sword.
This is the absolute embodiment of the Emperor's will, and it also highlights Guilliman's identity as the Emperor's own son.
The faces of several bishops, which were flushed with excitement, turned pale in an instant.
Some of them were so frightened that their legs went limp and they collapsed to the ground.