Just as Rome's capital was Rome, Macragge's capital was also Macragge.
The Macragge System, the world of Macragge, the city of Macragge.
Caelan was filled with emotion. "Space Rome truly lives up to its name."
Macragge was a city of marble.
Towering walls were as white as ivory. Broad streets were paved with polished marble tiles. The columns of palaces and castles were carved with intricate patterns. Spired towers pierced the clouds. The entire city glowed with a pearly luster in the sunlight.
In the central square, a massive fountain sprayed crystal-clear water columns, forming dazzling rainbows in the refracted sunlight. Everywhere, smaller fountains were as exquisite as works of art, clear water flowing gently over marble sculptures. The sound of fountains mingled with the tolling of city bells, playing a harmonious symphony for this pure white city.
"What do you think of our city?" Konnor asked, with a hint of pride.
Caelan gave an apt assessment. "Very Roman."
Konnor looked confused. "Why have you been mentioning Rome ever since you entered the city?"
"It's not a criticism, just an analogy."
"Rome was the first and only empire to achieve unification in the ancient Terran West. It had a profound and lasting influence on all Western civilization."
Although Rome wasn't truly unified, as the northern barbarians were never assimilated, those barbarians later converted to Christianity and held Rome in great admiration, which could be considered cultural assimilation.
Konnor looked thoughtful. "Is Rome very similar to our world?"
"Not similar. Exactly the same."
Macragge corresponded to the Roman Republic, not the Roman Empire. Both had consuls, a senate, and slavery, and both had barbarians to the north. But the Roman Republic lasted only about five hundred years, while Macragge's republican system had endured for at least five thousand.
After entering the city, the nobles went their separate ways. Caelan followed Konnor back to his residence. They walked side by side through a corridor, where towering bookshelves on both sides reached the domed ceiling. Yellowed parchment scrolls and finely bound books were neatly arranged, emitting a faint scent of ink.
A plaster angel relief on the dome surrounded a faded ancient Terran painting, in which the outlines of blue oceans and green forests were still faintly discernible. The people of Macragge had always remembered their origins.
Seeing Caelan stop to gaze, Konnor asked softly, "Does Terra today still retain any of the scenery depicted in this painting?"
"In an era when even the last sea has been drained, what do you expect to remain? Rivers and lakes have long dried up, lush forests have withered, and continuous mountain ranges have been leveled. In their place are the steel forests of hive cities and radiation-scarred wilderness. Industrial smog forever blocks out the sun."
"Due to the warlord conflicts of the Age of Strife?"
"The Age of Strife certainly made Terra worse, but it was only one factor. The Age of Progress had already extracted too many resources from Terra."
"My lords, if your interest in lunch is no greater than your interest in this utterly unproductive small talk, I would be delighted to feed the bread to the hounds. At least they know the etiquette of eating on time."
The woman's sharp sarcasm drew a helpless wry smile from Konnor.
"Euten, we have a guest."
Caelan turned to see a woman of extraordinary bearing.
She was tall and slender, with slightly curled long hair styled in an elegant ponytail, accentuated by an olive leaf headdress. Though her posture was dignified, her sharp eyes and icy tone betrayed an authority no less than the Consul's.
The Consul's attempt to deflect blame succeeded. The woman's gaze pierced Caelan like a sword:
"Your guest claims to have come for the child, yet he does nothing but engage in lofty conversation with you, paying no attention to the child. It makes one doubt his true intentions."
"Your words are always so sharp."
Konnor smiled wryly and gave Caelan a helpless look. "This is my wife's sister, also my chamberlain, Tarasha Euten. She is a lady who dares to scold a Consul to his face."
The implication was: she even scolds me, so don't expect me to help you.
Caelan calmly offered a gentle smile. "Lady Euten, would you mistreat the child?"
Euten responded coldly, "I'm not falling for that."
"You're right. That was my fault."
This straightforward admission took Euten slightly aback. "What is your fault?"
"What if I told you I could see the future? Would you believe me?"
Konnor asked sharply, "Are you a psyker?"
"Indeed." Caelan casually gestured, and a book flew from a shelf, landing steadily in his hand.
"The future tells me that even without my intervention, the child would grow up safely under your care and become an excellent Primarch."
"This led me to lack a sense of urgency regarding his safety and neglect to show him attention. That is my fault."
"Lady Euten, your criticism is very apt. I will learn from it."
Caelan's sincere response made it difficult for the originally aggressive Euten to continue her tirade.
Konnor stepped forward slightly. "Octavian, Lady Euten has specially prepared a Macraggian-style lunch. Why don't we move to the terrace and talk while we eat?"
He made an inviting gesture while giving Euten a calming look, diffusing the awkward atmosphere.
Caelan was momentarily stunned when he heard the name 'Octavian,' then realized Konnor was addressing him. He remembered he had casually invented that surname, as Octavia was one of the few names he could immediately think of, both because it was famous and because of Claudia.
On the terrace atop the residence, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the white marble columns, falling upon the tablecloth-covered table.
The dishes on the table were distinctly Roman. Golden, crispy oiled bread emitted an enticing aroma. Roast suckling pig was served on a silver platter. Fresh vegetables and olive oil-dressed salad were brightly colored. There were also various cheeses, honey, and fruits.
Servants attended quietly, carving meat or filling goblets with amber wine. A musician gently plucked the strings of a saltire, its high notes as clear as flowing spring water. Another plucked a bass saltire, its deep tones echoing long. The two timbres intertwined, playing a harmonious melody.
Konnor elegantly wiped his lips with a handkerchief. "What shall the child be called?"
Caelan responded gently, "You are his foster parents. You should name him."
Lady Euten, holding the child, gently smoothed his soft blond hair and frowned slightly. "Simply because of a so-called prophecy?"
Her gaze returned to the sleeping infant in her arms, his fair little face flawless.
Every primarch possessed extraordinary perfection, making them especially endearing in infancy. As they grew, they became natural warriors and leaders. Everyone who saw them instinctively wanted to protect them.
Although Euten wanted to return the child to Caelan, she worried that Caelan couldn't provide the care and attention he deserved.
Caelan said "You can call me Caelan. The surname Octavia actually belongs to another lady."
"Having you foster this child isn't just because of prophecy. Many Primarchs have foster parents. He is not an exception."
Euten asked, "Then what about you? If we are his parents, what are you?"
"With all due respect, Mr. Octavian, if you don't intend to take responsibility as a guardian, why come looking for him?"
Caelan said, "I am his father, and also his mentor. Don't be surprised. Primarchs generally have three fathers."
"Primarchs need the care of parents and the guidance of a mentor. I usually play the role of mentor."
Konnor stroked his chin. "Caelan, since you claim to see the future, why don't we play a little game?"
"We each write down the name we have in mind for the child. If you truly can see the future, I imagine we'll write the same name."
"I'd be happy to."
Konnor beckoned a servant and brought two sheets of parchment and quills.
Caelan calmly took the quill and wrote down a name first. Konnor wrote his name afterward, to prevent Caelan from using psychic powers to cheat.
The infant in Lady Euten's arms seemed to sense something, opening his azure eyes and quietly observing his surroundings.
The two folded parchments were exchanged. Konnor unfolded Caelan's paper. On it was written a name: Roboute Guilliman.
Caelan also unfolded Konnor's paper and placed it on the table. It bore the same name.
Konnor murmured in amazement, "Incredible."
Macragge relied on psykers to power Gellar fields for Warp travel. They were not unfamiliar with psykers, but clearly lacked understanding of powerful ones.
Lady Euten gently held the child and whispered, "Roboute Guilliman. This is your name. Do you like it?"
Guilliman lay quietly in the lady's arms, as well-behaved as any ordinary infant. But Lady Euten lacked specific knowledge of primarchs. The seemingly docile child in her arms could easily crush an adult's skull with his tiny hands. But primarchs were not bloodthirsty beasts, not even Guilliman.
Guilliman's clear blue eyes reflected Euten's gentle, kind face. He could feel the warmth and sincere care the lady gave him. He would not hurt her. Just as he had hurt no one on the way here. He had restrained himself.
"Guilliman..." he babbled.
"He smiled!" Euten exclaimed in delight. The infant's smile melted her heart. But she clearly missed the important point.
Konnor whipped his head towards Caelan, his pupils dilated in shock. "He can talk?"
Caelan chuckled. "Primarchs are like that."
Caelan would nurture infant Primarchs, like Angron, like Fulgrim and Sanguinius. But with Guilliman, he chose to withhold his nurturing wings. Because Guilliman lacked no nurturing. His foster parents were the best parents in the entire galaxy, bar none. Caelan didn't need to show him meticulous care and attention, because his foster parents would naturally provide it.
Caelan didn't want to strip away their bond either. He merely needed to play the role of a godfather, a mentor. This position suited him better.
Of course, besides educating the Primarch, he also had to ensure the safety of Guilliman's foster parents, especially his foster mother, Lady Euten.
As the Primarch's foster father, Konnor's influence on Guilliman was no less than Euten's. But his life or death was of little consequence. If he were assassinated, no one would miss him. But if Euten were also assassinated, her death would directly cause the world to slide into the abyss of the Guilliman Heresy.
This matter was also recorded in The Jibooty Heresy.
Lady Euten gazed at Caelan, her eyes holding a hint of expectation and inquiry. "Caelan, since you intend to be the child's mentor, what do you plan to teach him?"
After confirming that Caelan truly possessed the ability to see the future, Euten's attitude toward him had noticeably softened.
She began to believe that this mysterious outsider was not indifferent to the child, but rather, based on his knowledge of the future, trusted that she would give the child meticulous care, and so entrusted the child to her.
Caelan gently stroked the infant's cheek. "I won't instill too much knowledge in him during early childhood. I will only officially begin teaching him when he is at least three years old."
Euten hugged the child a little tighter, feeling a pang of sympathy. "Starting to learn at three is surely too early, isn't it?"
Caelan shook his head. "Three is already quite late. Other primarchs started learning from birth. Primarchs grow very quickly. By three or five, they'll be the size of adults."
Konnor was surprised by the primarch's astonishing growth rate, but also somewhat puzzled. "If so, why wait until Roboute is three?"
Caelan answered honestly, "Because I'm not confident I can teach him well. This child is too special. I need time to prepare an educational approach suitable for him."
His education was not just about imparting knowledge, but also truth. Knowledge could be imparted at any time, but truth had to be delayed.
Among all the primarchs, Roboute Guilliman's combat prowess consistently ranked in the bottom three, second only to Lorgar and Alpharius Omegon. His aptitude in the political realm, however, outshone all other primarchs, with none surpassing him. But this was entirely because he had grown crooked.
Guilliman's true nature was not rational and restrained, but cruel and tyrannical, even far more tyrannical than any other Primarch!
In 40K, Perturabo used tyranny to vent his inner twistedness. Konrad used tyranny to practice his twisted justice. Angron used tyranny to appease the Butcher's Nails. They all had their reasons. Guilliman was purer than them all. He was tyrannical for tyranny's sake, as natural as breathing. His nature craved crushing enemies.
When he learned of his father's death, shooting enemies couldn't quell his rage. He craved more primal ways to vent his pain, smashing their bodies against walls, crushing their skulls with his fists, throwing living people into fires to listen to their screams. When he learned the truth of the Horus Heresy, he yearned to execute traitors in the most brutal ways, disemboweling, flaying, breaking their bones!
His nature made him relish killing. It was Konnor and Euten's earnest teachings that wove for him a garment called civilization. And Guilliman willingly used this garment to disguise himself, using his preference for order to conceal and suppress his warlike nature. Thus, what appeared to outsiders was a Primarch known for reason, restraint, and calm, not Angron II.
But his nature still existed and was difficult to control, which was why Guilliman often lost his temper. Once Guilliman lost emotional control, his nature would shatter the garment of civilization, becoming exceptionally cruel and tyrannical. But Guilliman could always regain his senses. Sometimes through reason and calculation, sometimes through lack of ability.
His combat ability greatly constrained his tyrannical nature. Even when he lost his temper, it was hard to defeat other Primarchs in duels, except for Lorgar. In the original timeline, Guilliman had grown into a nearly perfect Primarch. Caelan had no confidence in improving him further. Revealing the truth too early would backfire.
Therefore, Caelan was not eager to use the heavy truths of Imperium 40K to intervene in his growth. Instead, he chose a gentler way to join the family. He was here to join the family, not to break it apart. This was true for educating other Primarchs, and it would be no exception for Guilliman.
Lady Euten frowned deeply. "Should we find him several more wet nurses?"
When she learned that Konnor had brought back this child from the heavens, her first instruction was to find suitable wet nurses. But after learning about the Primarch's astonishing growth rate, she suddenly realized one wet nurse would be far from enough. If he grew to adult size by age three, how much milk would he need?
Caelan said, "He doesn't actually need milk. Primarchs aren't that delicate. They can eat bread from birth."
She looked down at the infant quietly sucking his finger in her arms, his azure eyes looking at her pitifully. He looked like a child who needed careful nurturing in every way. Lady Euten immediately put on a stern face, her tone very severe. "No! Is that how you raise children? Infants should act like infants. How can they eat bread?"
It wasn't that Caelan didn't want to give the Primarchs better care, but he lacked the means! He had found so many Primarchs, yet not one had actually had the chance to drink breast milk. Either they had no mother, or they had a mother with no milk.
By the time they found people, they had already passed the age for drinking milk. Having bread was already good. Caelan had eaten corpse starch for five years on Terra, and then for several more years on Nostramo.
In both 40K and now, few Primarchs could eat bread from birth. Guilliman was the only one who could drink milk.
Konnor took a light sip of wine. "Caelan, it seems you have a lot of experience raising children?"
"More or less. Thirteen so far."
Konnor smiled wryly and shook his head. "Then we are probably not as good as you."
"How can that be?"
"I had only one wife, Tarasha's sister. After she died of illness in her early years, I never remarried, and I have no children."
"That doesn't matter. Believe me, you will be a good father."
"Because of the prophecy?"
"Not just because of the prophecy. I'm a good judge of character."
.....
30 Chapters [email protected]/DaoistJinzu