[{"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-530":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},1681400,2147,"Chapter 530 - 531 — The Savior: Damn—Is His Majesty the Emperor Failing?!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-530",530,"\u003Cp>[Power Stone Event!!]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[+100PS = +1 Chapter!!]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Just For This Week!!]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The appearance of fissures meant the Golden Throne was deteriorating—buckling under the burden.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It might well collapse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When that happens, the Imperium will face a dreadful catastrophe, and the Emperor—released from the Throne's bindings—will be dragged down into the Immaterium completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the tech-sages discovered this, they were seized by panic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It felt as if the very sky of the Imperium was about to fall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And not only them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If this news were to leak, the entire Imperium of Man would plunge into fear and turmoil, shattering the fragile calm just restored.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, the Custodian Guard and the Savior's personnel stationed in the Imperial Palace locked down the information in time and soothed the agitated tech-sages.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the High Lords were not permitted to know.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There had already been a painful lesson: the last time the Golden Throne had issues, the High Lords' meddling drew the Aeldari from the dark—nearly causing a disaster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The present crisis was worse; the Golden Throne's failure looked irreversible. If those people learned of it, their fear would only create greater trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a key senior figure for the Savior's demesne on Holy Terra, Grand Inquisitor Deville also received the news.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the Grand Inquisitor did not panic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"So long as His Majesty the Savior still stands,\" he told himself, \"the sky of mankind will not fall. The sun endures…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deville had never doubted the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He believed that august being could settle all matters, and the Mechanicum of Urth was already researching the Throne and preparing contingencies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All he needed to do was fulfill his duty—and offer up his loyalty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, his duty as Grand Inquisitor was to seize this chance to further consolidate the Savior's authority,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To make that sun blaze even brighter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Milord, all personnel of the Inspectorate have assembled and await your order.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His deputy—black trench coat, glacial eyes—came to report.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was fully armed, ready to rip and crush traitors the instant a command was given.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Begin.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deville nodded and smiled as he gave the order—a smile edged with cruelty, like Death pronouncing a sentence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any order from the Grand Inquisitor meant the end of heretics and rebels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was one reason all feared him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was unflinching: under the Savior's will he would destroy any target, no matter who it was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Savior commanded Holy Terra be blown to pieces, he would gladly pay with his life to see it done.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without the slightest hesitation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"For the Savior!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The deputy snapped a salute, pivoted, and strode away—each footfall spaced identically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such was the Inspectorate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Black coats, red armbands, ruthless and cold; they seldom spoke, simply appearing at the least expected moment before a dissident—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and consigning them to a merciless abyss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In terms of authority, they roamed Holy Terra unchecked, constrained by no one but the Savior; even the Inquisition was subject to their oversight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In terms of force, many among them were gene-wrought Astartes, bearing the finest arms, able to requisition formations and Titan God-Engines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Inspectorate was the Savior's black glove—his overt special guard, a reinforced Inquisition that stood united within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Adepta of the Imperium feared them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deville lifted a hand and traced the air; a dense, black list bloomed in the projection before him—touching many of the Imperium's high officials.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Social Security Management on Holy Terra\" was only the public face. He meant to use the present unrest to conduct an unprecedented purge of Terra's managerial class,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To clear out the Savior's lingering opponents and those who would obstruct the new order—eliminating every hidden danger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had to be done. Leave too many remnants of the old regime,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the consequences would be endless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deville knew His Majesty the Savior would not issue such a cruel order—nor could he be the one to wield that knife openly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Put simply, this was Deville's decision alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as Grand Inquisitor, he had to shoulder it; the Savior had raised him up for this very moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was an unspoken pact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And this might be the last service he could render His Majesty the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such a purge would breed hatred and discontent. When it was over—when the waters stilled—so too would the \"guard dog\" meet his end.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His Majesty would remove the self-authorizing hound to quench the final embers of backlash, then rule the Imperium with a new political order.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This Grand Inquisitor, this High Lord—one of the most powerful men in the Imperium—would offer himself as the sacrifice, the finest gift for the Savior's coronation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, the Social Security Management operations began on Holy Terra; regulations and decrees were promulgated apace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Department of Justice, obeying the new edicts, led the Solar Auxilia and constabulary in wide-ranging special actions—striking, preventing, and defusing all destabilizing elements,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially protests, rioting, and incitement—so that order might be maintained and civilians live in peace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These measures bore the Savior's stamp: none of the old, indiscriminate cruelty of the Imperium.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vox-systems across each hive district broadcast the Savior's hymn, calling all residents to obey the rules and refuse to join criminal organizations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Else, a severe penalty would follow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, the relevant forces moved sector by sector—arresting criminals and agitators, assigning penalties and \"education\" by tier,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even death sentences.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the same time,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Inspectorate secretly mobilized more armed assets and began purging the departments.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because several earlier rounds had already scoured away many spies embedded by assorted factions, the Inspectorate's movements were even harder to detect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No notice went out beforehand, to avoid wider disruption.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Petitioners' City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Administratum General Secretariat—Tax Archive Department main hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This office was tasked with correcting and disposing of the Imperium's mountain of backlogged tax files. Only by combing those \"ancient accounts\" clean, collating them into proper data and uploading,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Could the tax apparatus accurately re-assess the Imperium's myriad civilized worlds—and abolish abnormal, erroneous levies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Secretary of Archives convened his subordinate officials as usual, receiving reports and assigning the next cycle's tasks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clerks reported various archival absurdities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For example, a certain Rogue Trader dynasty owed the Imperium one Throne Gelt, unpaid for 130 years—the file asked whether staff should be dispatched to collect again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How such a ridiculous file entered the Administratum's process was anyone's guess.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But once a file entered the machine, no matter how absurd, the Imperium's procedures would grind on: stamp after stamp, audit after audit, year after year—staff dispatched to \"resolve.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like human automata.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unless you could change Imperial law and departmental procedure, you did as the forms decreed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That single Throne Gelt had consumed tens of thousands of work-hours from Administratum personnel, bleeding manpower and materiel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was that admirable rigor—or just ossified?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If not for the Savior's reforms—psyker-net infrastructure integrating everything, streamlining all process flows—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That absurd file might have marched through the Imperium's systems forever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet the new bureau's investigation showed that Rogue Trader dynasty had been wiped out 130 years ago, a fact confirmed by the Inquisition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alas, because the Inquisition's archive and the Administratum's didn't interface, the notice was lost in the flood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Administratum kept sending dunning letters—and since no statute recognized the dynasty as \"rebels,\" there was no basis for forcible seizure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And so that ludicrous file idled in the Administratum for over a century, discovered and finally sealed away only now that inter-departmental data flowed freely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Secretary of Archives stood upon the dais, listening, and yawned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had little interest—and much disgust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Damn that Savior—stripped our power…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He fumed inwardly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Data integration and archival re-ordering did improve efficiency and accuracy—but it also dragged \"quiet\" secrets into sunlight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which meant his hereditary clan's interests had taken a grievous hit: they lost their grip on the trade of files.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On Holy Terra, every power had a family carving it up—titles inherited forever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Hope Primarch, the Savior, had smashed all of it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worse, they had neither the means nor the courage to stop him—only to vent in secret, and seek new interests within the altered order.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, the hall fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop—only the thud of powered greaves approached.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Secretary sensed something wrong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked up—and froze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Black trench coats, red armbands—Savior's hounds—with two fully armored, grim Imperial Fists Astartes behind them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone knew what that meant: there was a heretic or rebel in this hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Emperor… please, not me…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Secretary's body trembled; he prayed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rest of the officials were the same—sweat pricked brows, breaths held—terrified to draw the black reapers' eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when the Inspectorate's interrogator met his gaze,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew it was over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were here for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I…I…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tried to explain, but words failed him. Even so, a high official's habits kept his posture correct.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He dared not resist; no one did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone knew: before the Inspectorate, confession was leniency; resistance, severity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you spoke plainly, there was a chance to live.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Resist, and you were rebellion incarnate—your life forfeit, and your clan dragged down with you.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was an outcome the Inspectorate deliberately crafted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared with the Inquisition's blunt brutality, the Inspectorate was more restrained—more efficient.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a rule, their interrogators were polite when they took a person away; sometimes they even notified the family,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if they used force—then came the thunderbolt of wrath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Plenty of noble houses and planetary fiefs had been erased by heavy weapons—or by Titan God-Engines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Possible death or certain death—any official with a working brain knew which to choose, especially when the Inspectorate possessed absolute force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, many targets under investigation walked obediently at the interrogator's side—no resistance offered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Invisibly, that lowered the cost of arrests and amplified deterrence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Milord Secretary—please come with us.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The interrogator's voice was calm, if cold; the two Imperial Fists behind him were already keyed up,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ready to strike.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Secretary stood under the weight of a hundred stares, quite beyond speech.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Face bloodless, fighting to master the tremors in his limbs, he stepped down from the dais—legs barely straight, swaying every few steps,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like a drunken duck about to crumple.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An Imperial Fist stepped forward to support him. The group departed—leaving only the dread of their receding backs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after the Inspectorate left, the hall stayed tense and hushed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only when orders came from above—appointing the deputy to act as interim secretary—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Did a breath of life return.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Grand Inquisitor Deville's purge moved like a surgeon's blade—precise, silent—one after another taken for questioning; almost nothing leaked to the public.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which was the most terrifying part—no one dared resist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some senior figures who had \"heard something\" only dared curse, softly, in empty, sealed rooms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They didn't dare so much as grumble aloud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the rumors abroad, the Custodian Guard, the Imperial Fists, the War Angels (Adepta Sororitas), and the Officio Assassinorum were all aiding the arrests; ground defenses in many sectors had quietly come online; God-Engines were warming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fleets, too, were mustering in secret.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under such conditions—who would speak out? How could anyone rebel?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The black-coated reapers of the Inspectorate seemed to be everywhere—arriving at the precise place and moment to take away the designated person, then vanishing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some noble houses, on hearing the Inspectorate was coming, tied up their own and opened their doors wide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some, on receiving word, killed themselves rather than face judgment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, bloodstains began to appear in certain offices.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were from those under investigation who had tried to resist—and failed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Holy Terra's departments sank beneath a black pall of terror. No one knew who would be taken today—or whether it would be them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Grand Inquisitor Deville followed his program,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Stripping rebels out of the bureaucracy piece by piece—removing anyone who might compromise the Savior's system of governance—and even taking away a number of Ecclesiarchy priests.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The only mercy was his restraint: he did not indulge in massacre. Many implicated were merely arrested, imprisoned, or dismissed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even so, more than a million rebels were executed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the largest purge since the Primarchcalamity and the \"Spring of Terra,\" and it felled more administrators than any prior sweep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Petitioners' City, residential sector.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A certain scribe returned home, grumbling about the Inspectorate's cruelty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the moment he mentioned the Savior, his wife silenced him:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Have you gone mad? Do you want to die—or lose your rations and pay?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he remembered: every last resource and supply on Holy Terra now came from the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had lifted them out of poverty. There was bread and meat on the table; from time to time the departments even issued coffee, snacks, and other benefits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their standard of living had transformed—refugees to middle-class in a breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was one reason the purge met so little resistance: the Savior was feeding Holy Terra—everyone ate on the Savior's grain and drank on the Savior's water,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even their wages and scrip came from him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In such a climate, the Imperial elite could not spark a larger revolt. The present disorder was already the limit—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And it had been framed as a public security issue, easily crushed, then \"sanitized.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In old Terra, this would have been unthinkable. A change in regime without tens of billions dead hardly counted as a change.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet—so it was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Savior truly held Terra—and his grip might be tighter than the Emperor's in the dawn age.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back then, the Emperor still bargained with factions and cut special deals; the Primarch sons were a host of proud warlords. The Savior did not bargain; his hounds simply executed a sweeping purge—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And no rebellion followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Senatorum Imperialis.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Grand Inquisitor Deville petitioned to convene a session with the High Lords to discuss what must come next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The High Lords eyed two empty seats in silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those two had already been confined, awaiting judgment by the Hope Primarch, the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Lords and ladies, the cleansing is complete. It's time we advanced certain crucial matters.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deville broke the hush.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though displeased, the High Lords exhaled a little.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They set about fixing a date for the coronation. Even if the Savior could not return in time, a provisional ceremony must be held to ratify his rule.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the purge, there was no one left on Terra who could truly disrupt the new order.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Perhaps,\" said Lord Solar Moore, supreme commander of the Astra Militarum, spirits high, \"we should raise a new sacred statue of the Hope Primarch, the Savior…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Savior was to be the Imperium's new sovereign, his station could not remain merely equal to other Primarchs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A grander, taller statue must be raised—at the center of the Plaza of Heroes—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To declare his majesty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The proposal passed without dissent; none dared oppose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The planned figure wore golden panoply, much like the Emperor's own; even the Ecclesiarchy held its nose and assented.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ecclesiarch did, however, whisper one objection:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Emperor's grace—the new statue's specifications seem to exceed those of the Emperor's own. Should we not amend that?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Grand Inquisitor Deville hesitated—then held to the original design.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was no blasphemy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The golden sun above the new statue's brow symbolized the Emperor—that was the first turn of the religious wheel, and there could be no compromise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, the new statue was approved, and the Savior's provisional coronation was set.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the communiqués went out, the Social Security drive proclaimed its first results.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Administratum and other departments followed, announcing a new holiday—Savior's Coronation Day—to celebrate the coming of his rule.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The civil ministries likewise declared that, in honor of the coronation, material investments and supplies for Holy Terra would be doubled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Throneworld would be remade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At once, Terra's oppressive mood evaporated—replaced by jubilation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many had done nothing at all—yet thanks to the Savior's coronation, their stipends doubled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Who wouldn't be pleased?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the new statue rising, the provisional coronation held, and benefit after benefit unfurled, reverence for the Savior only grew; public support reached new heights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Holy Terra could not do without the Savior, just as the sky cannot do without the sun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While all this transpired on Terra,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not long ago—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the Black Throne precincts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before the Throne, Eden stood beside the Emperor; their clasped hands lifted high, proclaiming him the Imperium's new ruler.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Amid the thrill, he suddenly felt a draft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Tch—\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden glanced down—and hissed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There were his iron-slab pectorals. Wonderful. He'd joined a galaxy-wide psy-broadcast wearing nothing but his ripped physique, again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His body was like cast adamantine, every edge cutting; scars crisscrossed him, and the holy light only made him look more warlike.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, he couldn't shake the sense he was a public flasher. How many times now had he \"gone live\" in the noösphere wearing only muscles?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Half the noble ladies of the Imperium were losing sleep over this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thankfully, the Emperor's conjured pageantry soon faded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All present save the Savior were ordered to withdraw; the Emperor had grave matters to discuss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He staggered back into the Black Throne; even his telepathy was broken by fatigued static.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His voice had never sounded so tired. \"You should have received the message by now, yes?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden nodded, his face grave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the Emperor's next words tightened his chest: \"I cannot hold on. You must find a way to kill me—completely—without delay…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Master of Mankind spoke in fragments.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was so sorrowful, so full of blame; his gaze was pleading—almost begging:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"All of this is my fault. The damage to the Golden Throne cannot be undone. When it fails, my divinity will slip its shackles and become a catastrophe no one can withstand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You—my successor—you must, before that moment… end my life.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps this was the Emperor's most vulnerable moment—the charge before the end.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"So it's the Golden Throne after all…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this, Eden relaxed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He slapped his chest, brimming with confidence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Old man, rest easy. I can fix the Golden Throne. I'll have you sorted—properly and perfectly.\"\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>",2997,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.268Z",1,"novelbin.me","64f66277720d8504f6b70902b819c0aec0339defbb051ca299624a4b08dd82d5","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-531","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-529",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]