[{"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-537":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},1681407,2147,"Chapter 537 - 538 — Popping Champagne in Commorragh & a Sweating Guilliman","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-537",537,"\u003Cp>\"That… is the fifth Cronesword of Morai-Heg!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden kept a straight face, but inside he was thrumming with excitement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he could get his hands on that Cronesword, he could hold both the Aeldari and the Prince of Pleasure by the throat at the same time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He maintained a natural gait, step by step drawing nearer to the throne dais—nearer to that ancient Aeldari relic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, abruptly, Eden stopped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The phantom of the Prince of Pleasure upon the throne shifted, as if his earlier words had only stirred it further—stoked its craving. The hall itself seemed to dampen with a sultry humidity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From that shimmering shadow, alabaster legs stepped forth, followed by a figure veiled in gossamer—a womanly form at the very edge of perfection, half-mortal and half-daemon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every motion she made pulled on the wants of the soul.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A single glance was enough to quicken breath and set the heart racing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every line, every inch of skin… it was the most exquisite image of a partner Eden could imagine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In truth, it was a mask Slaanesh wore only for him—though one could also say the Chaos Gods have no fixed shape; what mortals see is merely the reflection of their own desires.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tss—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden drew in a sharp breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before he could react, that bewitching body fell into his arms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All his senses flared—like cradling something soft and fragrant, the very pinnacle of the cosmos' delights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he understood how even iron-willed elite warriors and Primarchs could falter before the Prince of Pleasure's corruption.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even he was close to his limit!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the Dark Prince descending in person, there was no way he was walking off with that Cronesword today.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trying to snatch the artifact with a mere soul-projection before that being? A fool's errand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still—he had learned where the ancient relic lay. Once the Hope-Sun's life-essence grew stronger, he could stake his flesh and blood, dive into the tiger's den, and brazen it out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Endure the corruption, rip the prize free—and leave the Prince of Pleasure robbed of both virtue and treasure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Beloved, do you accept our pact?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no lofty, godly pride in Slaanesh now. Supple and boneless, the Dark Prince curled into Eden's chest, speaking in a tone and language crafted for him alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The power of excess gathered—palpable and close.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Eden accepted the gift, vast puissance would be his, shared with the Dark Prince—a terrifying union of strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thud—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beneath the throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Fallen Phoenix saw and his knees gave out; he collapsed where he stood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The pain in his chest left him voiceless; he screwed his eyes shut in anguish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slaanesh's darlings sweat blood for a single glance, a moment's favor—yet Eden was being offered a share of power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not as a thrall, but almost as a consort.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was everything the Fallen Phoenix had ever dreamed of—laid in Eden's lap as if it were nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How could he not burn with envy—how could he not choke on jealousy?!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Keep dreaming.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden held the Dark Prince close and, with the gentlest murmur against that perfect ear, refused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"No!!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Fallen Phoenix howled. The refusal broke him harder than a \"yes\" ever could.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two on the dais paid the wreck sprawled at its foot no mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From any angle, Eden could not possibly accept now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a losing trade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes, if he agreed he'd gain Slaanesh's gifts and, nominally, stand as an equal—two as one, advancing and retreating together.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His very life-essence would surge toward the plane of a nascent god.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But sharing goes both ways—and Slaanesh would take more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After all, he was the Hope-Sun, Lord of the Imperium, warboss of the greenskins, savior of the Drukhari, and the Swarm's Bladewing. Those banners—some open, some in shadow—were still growing; the power they lent him could not yet match a Chaos God's true form.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were, however, premium stocks. To hand them over would be a catastrophic loss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the Dark Prince bonded to him deeply, those powers—and the peoples beneath them—would be tainted and twisted, swelling Slaanesh's might.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Becoming the strongest of the Dark Gods? Not impossible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The price: his subjects and armies, rotting into things neither man nor beast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What a shame.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slaanesh didn't flare in anger. Perhaps the Dark Prince was simply used to being denied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Through the years, that man had sampled pleasures without paying—and refused—so often that the denial only sharpened the Dark Prince's hunger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A light kiss brushed for Eden's cheek.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Whatever happens, remember—this pact never expires. The Palace of Pleasure always welcomes your return.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I do as well…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden lifted a hand and stopped those lips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Understood. Maybe one day I'll accept. But not today.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He did not reject the terms outright.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wars of the warp are eternal, and alliances are forged and broken across the ages.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In life and in power, only interest endures. Even the Imperium—so proud in its hatred of the xenos—can and will ally with the alien when it must.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Hope-Sun's arc held, he would one day fight in that high war. Having an ally in hand wouldn't hurt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More than that: it was a hidden card for humanity's coming storms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If, one day, the Emperor ascended and became a Dark King devouring mankind, Eden might have to stand with the Prince of Pleasure to oppose Him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course—he prayed that day would never come.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every \"gift\" from a Dark God hides venom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Partnership with them is perilous beyond words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Perhaps a simpler deal, then…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slaanesh returned to the matter of the Commorragh Webway, which was urgent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A whisper in Eden's ear—soft in tone, sharp with threat: \"You want that city, but you cannot take it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As long as my daemons hold it, you cannot have it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A languid pose; slim white fingers traced idle circles over Eden's chest—as if they might, at any moment, dig in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"But there is a way. You win me the souls of the Drukhari, and I'll hand Commorragh to you intact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>We both profit.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden caught the Dark Prince's hand, stopping the game.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He smiled, almost jokingly. \"And if I refuse?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The reply was sugar-sweet and venomous:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Then Commorragh will be corrupted forever—my Carnival of Nightmares, a screaming temple of flesh and sin—until it is razed to dust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This may be your last chance.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It truly might.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Slaaneshi tides seeded through Commorragh kept gnawing, the Dark City would be stripped to a worthless husk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was one of the reasons Eden had come in person—to stall Slaanesh and buy time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise, the other Dark Gods—especially the Big Blue Bird—would shower the Dark Prince with bribes and arguments to abandon any bargain…and lay Commorragh to waste.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Better to see the Emperor's dream strangled in its crib than let it live.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What Eden didn't know was that Khorne and the Changer of Ways were already bargaining with Slaanesh; his appearance had only paused the talks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The offer on the table was rich.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under normal circumstances Eden would have taken it—after all, the coin was xenos souls, not human ones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would save vast resources and countless Imperial lives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Trading that for the Dark City? Even the Emperor would sign.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now the Drukhari were already Eden's property—and he had a Tyranid army perfectly suited to purge the lurking daemons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Sorry. This deal's not happening.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once he confirmed the Redemption Hive Fleet had arrived in Commorragh's Webway, Eden refused without mercy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And honestly, the day's real win was the exact location of that last Cronesword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pecked the Dark Prince, then, before any reaction could form, unraveled his soul-projection and bailed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He left only a psychic after-whisper:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Next time, for sure!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The refusal blindsided Slaanesh, and wrath boiled up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An angry tide surged through the throne hall, sweeping the red-hot, shattered Fallen Phoenix from the dais and pitching him to the floor below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lay there, limp—ruined by the blow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Eden… you'll regret this…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The body Slaanesh wore dissolved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Dark Prince accepted the Blue and the Blood God's terms and ordered the embedded daemonic tides to unleash havoc on the Dark City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then the message arrived—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Hope-Sun had brought the Swarm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Commorragh, the Webway\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hurry—once the psy-beacons are lit, all reconnaissance teams pull out of the web nodes immediately!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air grew tense and airless; even breathing felt tight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Stormseers' temples throbbed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>White Scars strike teams dropped special psy-beacons across districts of Commorragh, then piled into white \"Falcon\" transports and burned for the exits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were bait—dangerous bait that called Tyranid bioforms down upon a target.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By Eden's order, all Imperial personnel were to evacuate the Dark City and stay clear until further notice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Emperor, this weapon's too damned dangerous.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One old White Scar muttered, eyes on the deepening shadow boiling over the city—the living thunderhead of bio-ships heaving through the sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone knew the tide that blotted out the stars; it could drown sectors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Used right, these damned bugs are good for the Imperium too,\" another veteran replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperium had tried to weaponize Tyranids before; one hot-blooded Inquisitor even steered a hive swarm into an Ork empire to let the two monsters tear each other apart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden was playing a similar card now—drawing a hive to scour daemonic filth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In truth, the beacons were a smokescreen—to keep the galaxy from seeing too much of the Redemption Hive-Ship's link to Eden.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some things you do—you just don't admit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden would never publicly acknowledge any direct tie to the Redemption Hive Fleet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The White Scars were about to trade another quip when their comms fritzed; under the static they could hear chittering.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even at this range, the Shadow in the Warp had begun to smother almost every psychic act and warp-touched transmission—making navigation or astropathic contact impossible. Even normal vox would sputter and die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bio-ships opened fire; a sleet of mycetic pods rained into the Dark City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Throne—are we even getting out of here?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everywhere the pods thudded down; from their hissing yellow fog, the swarm poured out—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A chitin tide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They throttled the urge to fire, white-knuckling the throttles lest they provoke a riposte.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mercifully, the beasts flowed toward the psy-beacons and left the White Scars' corridors of withdrawal untouched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Polite bugs? It felt wrong to even think it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Everyone's clear? Good. Let the swarm eat the problem…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deep in the Redemption Hive-Ship—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden ended his audience with Slaanesh and loosed his armies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They followed the beacon-trail, processing every scrap of Chaos taint—from daemons to befouled matter—down to the last drop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the foul bloodstains the Drukhari left behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, the Swarm would be Commorragh's janitor—one pass to solve everything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially the \"Old Eight's\" broods—those could devour any Chaotic substrate they found, licking the Dark City clean from pillar to pit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shiny floors, too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That's the proper use of Tyranids: cleanup crew, waste management, industrial digestion. Cheap to feed, no payroll.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Far better than sending in Engineering—machines and materiel chewed up by attrition, wages and benefits to pay, hazard claims and deaths to compensate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A fortune burned, every time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From now on, any world or region fouled by Chaos or xenos corruption? Send in the Swarm first—let them chew out the core of the threat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then bring in the engineers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Swarm's war-mode is just unfair…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden sighed, pleased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wearing Bladewing's flesh and mind, he spread the Hive Mind's pall across Commorragh, veiling it from all eyes and ears.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the same time he micromanaged every brood, like an RTS omniscience over a living network—distributing forces through the web alleys and nodes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Daemons were sealed and smothered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Great bio-refineries reared up where needed; capillary towers thrust into the sky and plugged into the waiting bio-ships.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It happened fast. Chitin rolled over district after district; the Swarm crawled into every artery of the Webway city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, the sky rang with Tyranid screeches and daemon roars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Webway, deeper down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heavy footfalls—then faster—running.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Prince of Pleasure, how did these damned bugs get inside the Webway?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A Slaaneshi Greater Daemon pounded along with its cohort—but behind them, the tunnels were black with churning Tyranids.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A flood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn't make sense of it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moments ago he'd received Slaanesh's command: use any means necessary to smash the Webway hub.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But before he could strike, the Swarm descended—numbers several times his own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You couldn't fight that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And these weren't main-line troops; they were daemons seeded for ambush and sabotage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not built for a pitched battle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His forces broke. All they could do was run—hide—wait for the bugs to leave and resume the work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tyranids would wreck the Dark City anyway; why die here?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A light bloomed ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Greater Daemon's hearts leapt. An exit to the hub.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From there he could use the web-gates, lose the pursuit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He burst through, legion at his back—and froze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hub was swaddled in chitin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Walls of meat and shell bristled with bio-cannons and whipping tendrils. Towering above, several bio-titans—each many times his height—glared down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It's… over.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Acid and plasma washed over him before despair had time to ripen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Redemption Hive Fleet fought with cold precision and murderous speed, sweeping Commorragh clean faster than any swarm before it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was inevitable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This hive had studied Eden's General Staff down to the bone—grown special nodal synapse organisms to collate intelligence and command with crushing efficiency.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had even innovated: techno-organic hybrids plugged into psychic networks, their wetware swollen to monstrous processing power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Looks like it's time to pop the champagne.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Report after report poured into Eden's mind. Two-thirds of the city was already clean. The rest had no strength to resist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the Dark Gods could no longer breach the Emperor's interdiction to send fresh daemons into the Webway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the Black Throne's true value—keeping the Webway safe from incursion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this rate—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The purge would end in six weeks; in two months the Swarm would finish digestion and pull out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Imperial personnel and engineering corps could move in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In other words—the Imperium could essentially announce it had taken the prize it had coveted for millennia: a Webway metropolis—freedom from the tyranny of warp lanes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Emperor—sitting, figuratively, on two thrones at once—was grinning ear to ear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the situation locked, Eden slipped out of Bladewing and handed control to his special nodal commanders.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He visited the Emperor to suggest thickening the veil—just in case the Dark Gods did something desperate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then a stream of dossiers—foremost among them, the Victory Celebrations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Humanity needed to celebrate a win this grand. The formal coronation would be held in the Webway to leverage its routes and gather more of the Imperium's great and good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One by one, powerbrokers would arrive to witness—and to look upon the Emperor on His Black Throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had to know He walked the material realm once more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Right—better ping old G, too. Wouldn't want him to miss the champagne.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden thought of Guilliman and opened a channel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For a moment this momentous—and symbolic—event would bring the former Lord Regent, legendary Primarch, front and center. A clean handover—and new commissions to give.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Murk Sector, near the Eye of Terror.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his sanctum, the Primarch of Ultramar sweated through his robes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"How could the Emperor's Sword be missing?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman sat rigid, brow knotted, hairline somehow receding further.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was a storm of nerves and sighs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the symbol of Imperial legitimacy—his father's own blade—destined to rest in the hand of the Imperium's true ruler. (Lexicanum)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet, during a routine holy oil anointing, it had vanished from the armory—top to bottom searches finding nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A failure of that magnitude—how could he ever face his father again?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he brooded, his equerry, Felix, brought word of a new mess.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some anonymous poster on the spirit-net was defaming the Primarch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Normally, Guilliman could stomach criticism.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People need to speak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if Felix had brought it, the impact had to be serious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Against his better judgment, Guilliman clicked—and found a sprawling screed, tens of thousands of words, roasting the Codex Astartes and himself alive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every line was a needle, every paragraph a boot on his face—right to the lungs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Bastard!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was already on edge; now he went red-hot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He punched open the reply box—ready to lay into this nobody.\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>",2735,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.268Z",1,"novelbin.me","16fe227c38044685851501e976761578cc1e4d886eed94eedd7791483b6c1ea6","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-538","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-536",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]