[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor":3,"chapter-warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-516":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1681386,2147,"Chapter 516 - 517: The Great War – The Savior and Ka’Bandha’s Century Alliance!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-516",516,"\u003Cp>\"Savior, I have failed your trust.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jubal lowered his head in shame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While trying to pick a shortcut through the Webway, he had the misfortune of running straight into another tide of daemons—only for the Hope Primarch to shoulder the burden and slaughter his way out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"At least we arrived on time. A misfortune turned blessing, perhaps.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden waved his hand dismissively, refusing to linger on the matter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lifted his gaze toward the distance, an inexplicable sense of awe rising within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There stood the Dark Eldar's abominable mechanical creation—the Black Throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though named a \"throne,\" in truth it was a massive complex of machinery and architecture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Countless gears and twisted metal structures interlocked seamlessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In some places, living flesh had been fused with the mechanisms, making the whole thing even more grotesque.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What a staggering piece of mechanical art…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Having rested enough, Eden dismounted from the White Falcon and strode toward the mechanical complex.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the supreme creation into which Asdrubael Vect had poured endless resources and lives—a masterpiece of construction few things in the galaxy could rival.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden could feel the rhythmic thrum pulsing within it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One thought, however, seized the Hope Primarch's mind:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This damned thing looks bigger than the Golden Throne… if I sit on it, will I ever get back off? Will my end be worse than the Emperor's?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he had already come this far.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The stage was set, and he had no choice but to continue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, this Webway sector had become one of the most terrifying battlefields in the galaxy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Massive rents tore across the Veil as warp fissures split reality, staining the surface of the great structure with warped, eerie light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three distinct currents of Chaos power surged forth, birthing fresh abominations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the heavens descended six hermaphroditic Keepers of Secrets, their perfect bodies reflecting thousands of lustful faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They exuded a heady fragrance that reduced Dark Eldar warriors to shrieking puddles of pink slime—reforming moments later into horrifying new daemons, their souls long since consumed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From a churning sea of molten blood, eight towering Bloodthirsters emerged, bellowing. Their bodies were like rock-forged iron, nearly impervious to dark-matter weaponry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Swinging their massive axes, they became walking engines of carnage—decapitating foes and piling skulls into grim cairns to honor the Blood God.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nine raven-headed Lords of Change chanted paradoxical incantations in unison.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Half-real and half-illusory, these weavers of fate were untouchable even to the firepower of the Dark Eldar's heavy voidships.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With each touch of their serpentine staves, ancient xenos relic-tech turned traitor, slaughtering their original masters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And these Greater Daemons were merely the vanguard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A tidal wave of abominations crashed against the spires of Commorragh that the Kabal of the Black Heart had spent millennia fortifying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Commorragh's wound bleeds true blood…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Black Throne had entered its final phase. In his incubation vat, Asdrubael Vect could no longer send word to the outside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stared at the encroaching daemon tide with a rare sense of helplessness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For the first time in millennia, the supreme overlord realized his schemes were nothing. All his plans had turned to blades pointed back at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was as though an invisible hand had been moving every piece.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The realization chilled him—just a flicker of the Dark Gods' wrath could devour him whole.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This duel with the Changer of Ways… have I truly lost?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His grand defenses crumbled; his godhood project lay in ruins.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sooner or later, She Who Thirsts would claim the souls of all Dark Eldar for eternal torment. Even Vect was not immune to that fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His face twisted at the thought:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Chaos Gods! Perhaps I've lost—lost this crown, lost Commorragh's heart to your corruption…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But do you know what hides in your throat, the perfect thorn you can't swallow?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His gaze hardened. Commorragh and the Dark Eldar would be his, or no one's.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he failed, if the daemons seized the Webway city…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then his tongue-root's Blackstone device would detonate. Commorragh would fall into annihilation, dragging the Dark Eldar with it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The city's secret soul-circuits would harvest every Eldar soul, delivering them to the Eldar God of Death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That would be his final revenge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Craftworld cousins and their death-god would carry on the eternal war against She Who Thirsts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as Vect prepared for that final fate, a new host surged into the Black Throne's sector.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mixed armies of the Heirs of Asurmen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Warriors of many Kabals, Terror Legionnaires, Orks, Tyranids, and even Mandrake hosts surged into the Black Heart's defenses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Traitors!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A High Archon of the Black Heart spat in fury.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had never imagined the rebels would strike now. With daemons at the gates, now came this betrayal—despair compounded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Those Asurmen heirs—are they so eager to see Commorragh destroyed?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Black Heart reeled, stunned at such ruthless pragmatism.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But then—to their shock—the rebel host pivoted, not against them, but against the daemons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Archons like Fruk coolly ordered their troops to the defense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their voices thundered across the battlefield:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We march under the Heir of Asurmen's command—to stand with you against the daemons!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From this moment, we are comrades-in-arms, not enemies!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Lord Asurmen decrees: all of Commorragh's strength must guard the Black Throne and safeguard the Supreme Overlord. Only then can Commorragh's future be preserved!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such magnanimity moved even the cynical Black Heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hatred melted into unity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Asurmen's heir… I must admire your courage.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even Vect, floating in his vat of solution, felt a flicker of emotion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Never would he have expected the so-called Savior to send his armies in this darkest hour.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the feeling passed swiftly—replaced by elation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His plan for godhood might yet succeed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I will soon stride upon the stage of the Warp itself, a higher being shaping the galaxy's fate. No longer a pawn!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the Heir of Asurmen—he is beneath me. His pitiful efforts will only pave my ascent.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet what Vect did not know—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Hope Primarch feared nothing more than Vect's failure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden knew the old tyrant's nature: should Vect fail, he would drag everything into ruin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, he had to ensure Vect's ascension—if only to keep him from burning all of Commorragh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And so, under the Redemption Satellite Zone's coalition banner, chaos deepened into a grand melee.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every color of faction clashed in a kaleidoscopic slaughter—the very chaos Eden had engineered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It gave Jaghatai Khan's White Scars the opening they needed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hidden within a structure, the Khan's riders prepared to strike, to install sacred machinery and channel the Little Sun's soul.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But first, Vect had to ascend—freeing up the Black Throne's \"bandwidth.\" Only then could the Little Sun's soul overwrite it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Let's move.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Mandrake shadows as cover, Eden and Jubal crept toward the Black Throne's core.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hum—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The colossal machine roared, the obsidian seat drowning in soul energy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One could even hear a faint heartbeat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the heart of the Emperor's clone, beating within its body. Though mindless, its functions had awakened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the clone of the galaxy's once-greatest being, its aura alone sent shudders through xenos flesh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even daemons recoiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For this was once the mightiest being of the galaxy—now the Warp's greatest curse, the Black King, the eternal beacon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hum—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The last surge of power rushed into the Throne. White arcs of psychic lightning coursed through conduits, culminating in the throne itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Emperor's clone rose into the air, wracked by soul-force vast enough to shred any flesh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the body endured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Twin eyes blazed with white radiance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All knew the truth then: the Supreme Overlord's ascension was at its final step.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hiss—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We feast upon rapture itself… and your suffering is our finest vintage.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dexyssa, the Claw of Slaanesh, and Synnyssa, the Voice of Slaanesh, broke through the Kabal of the Black Heart's inner defenses and burst into the Black Throne's core.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With butterfly-brilliant wings giving a lazy beat, scarlet crystal clusters budded from the void and lanced through every Incubus who tried to bar their path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the heavy batteries along the way buckled under that onslaught.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bone-whips and rapier-thorns twined with a mist of seduction as the Twin Keepers carved the space into prisms that refracted a thousand devouring emotions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For the Dark Eldar, it was a deathtrap—one that drowned them in their own extremes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two Greater Daemons surged straight for the Black Throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She Who Thirsts had long since sensed what a fully functioning Black Throne would mean for Commorragh—and would stop at nothing to destroy it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now the inner ring of Black Heart troops lay shattered; no one seemed left to prevent the Throne's ruin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But before the Twins could strike, spears of white lightning crashed in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"For the Savior—and for the Khan!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A White Scars raider squad tore from cover at breakneck speed. Their stand against Greater Daemons was nothing short of epic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Look closer, though: each White Falcon's sidecar carried a golden, towering figure—Adeptus Custodes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Shield-Captain and his Ten Thousand leapt from the sidecars, jump packs howling, and slammed down before the Twin Keepers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Shield-Captain drew his hip-sword and leveled it. \"In the name of the Golden Throne, heresy goes no further.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This body is the Throne's bulwark—form the shield wall.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind him the Custodians locked their storm-shields into a seamless barrier, unmoving as a cliff.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any abomination that dared profane the Emperor's clone would first have to climb a rampart of Imperial dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Lackeys of the Accursed!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Twins tried to slip around, only to crash against layered psychic wards and force-fields the Custodians projected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They roared, attacking in tandem—powder-pink hellfire crossing with bolter storms and the glare of power blades.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More Greater Daemons forced their way in. Custodians and White Scars met them head-on, buying ground with Sanctified Ash Shells by the dozen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Across the Black Throne district, more \"yellow suns\" flared as daemon-banes detonated—yet the foe adapted, emboldened by their patrons' favor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This won't hold… we're outnumbered.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden crouched in a crook of machinery, eyes tracking the flow of battle, ready to intercept any disaster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But even he had to admit: the daemons were pressing hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, a six-legged Keeper of Secrets smashed through a White Scars bulwark and swept a scything blade toward the Throne's conduit trees.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Black Throne's local force-field caught the strike, but the Keeper didn't relent—blow after blow drained the ward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worse, nothing stood between that daemon and a fatal breach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden felt his scalp prickle. Forget stealth—he vaulted out to intercept.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Over here, you filth!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He poured his weight into a single brutal kick that sent the Keeper tumbling, then chased it down and laid in with a righteous pummeling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Hope Primarch's appearance snapped every predator's attention; several Greater Daemons converged at once.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was why he'd stayed in the shadows: in the Warp's pecking order, the Hope Primarch ranked right alongside the Black Throne and the Emperor's clone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Trying a cheap shot?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden slipped a Slaaneshi slash and, without even turning, hammered a would-be backstabber with a Sanctified Ash Shell to the face—dropping it screaming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He caught another daemon's poisoned spike on his power sword and sheared the wielder's arm clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fwip!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Air shrieked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's psychic sense screamed—every hair stood on end. He rolled as a spear flashed past to where his heart had been.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tip bit into the floor; fleshstone boiled into a pulsing pit—killer venom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the spear vanished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fast—too fast. The attacker moved at the apex of speed and skill, veiled in a relic cloak that blurred all trace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden drew a slow breath, coiled for the next strike.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Savior, you are so very weak—you can't even parry this.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The voice of Syll'esh the Doom of Secrets rippled around him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had waited for this moment—to end the Warp's \"false legend.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Oh?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden ignored the trash talk—he'd heard harsher on a bad forum thread.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He planted his feet, closed his eyes, and felt the attack lines spool.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The spear flashed again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Got you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A thin smile cut Eden's face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tilted, letting death graze past—and caught the haft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His other hand snapped up the ash-launcher, point-blank at Syll'esh's brow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Impossible—\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her pupils pin-pricked as the Emperor-cursed munition swelled in her vision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Duang—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the split-second of detonation, the Doom of Secrets threw up her rapture-shield. The relic drank most of the holy flare and spilled it aside in splinters of light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her speed and fight-sense were monstrous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the time Eden shifted to disengage, it was a heartbeat too late—pink tendrils coiled him, locking limbs and spine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shards of She Who Thirsts, woven into a living cloak about Syll'esh—her greatest weapon and font of power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I've got you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The towering, willowy daemoness loomed, spear plunging for the kill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Death's chill brushed Eden's heart—he was already thumbing a last resort when—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Not today.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A colossal crimson titan crashed through—Ka'Bandha.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His blood-axe sheared the tendrils; he planted himself between the Hope Primarch and the strike. The spear glanced, punching into his shoulder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't care. The axe came down for Syll'esh's face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Doom of Secrets didn't take it head-on—she ripped the spear free and vanished into the cloak's mirage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ka'Bandha?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Savior.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For a beat, the Hope Primarch and the Exalted Bloodthirster locked eyes—brotherhood and bloodlust both burning there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They knew another duel—final, absolute—awaited them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Good timing…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden almost felt numb to the classic \"brother saves brother\" beat—trust the half-brother from another nightmare to spare him one trump card.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I won't have some other daemon take your head.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ka'Bandha's eyes blazed. \"Once I tear down the Doom of Secrets, we settle this—with death.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Murder rose from him like heat; he could scarcely wait to claim the Savior's skull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I'll be waiting.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden answered with perfect swagger. Maybe he couldn't win now. Later… who knew?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Both of them scanned the haze, backs touching as they turned—two enemies moving as one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To the watching hordes it looked like a true alliance: the Hope Primarch and the Exalted Bloodthirster, fighting back-to-back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Blood for the Blood God!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ka'Bandha lunged, shoulder-ramming Syll'esh out of a fresh ambush line.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden reignited his relic power blade and rammed it home—squarely into the hindquarters of another Greater Daemon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Black Throne sector convulsed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Above the seat, a queer fissure tore open—through it, a twisted roadway seemed to writhe into being…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on \"Zaelum\"]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Every 500 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Thanks for Reading!]\u003C\u002Fp>",2396,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.268Z",1,"novelbin.me","19ebc1f9a4f0ce9fb2ee5e5d05a1b38a76072a8e81b16d0bbf9a0ebfdb11ad19","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-517","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-515",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]