[{"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-539":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},1681409,2147,"Chapter 539 - 540 — Savior: “Sigh… Prep an ICU for Old G. The nice one.”","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-539",539,"\u003Cp>\"This is what a human city should look like…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The reignited sun washed the skyline; light scattered off the facades in a thousand points, and the whole city seemed to glow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Commorragh—once a Dark City—no longer felt so gloomy and choked in mist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It felt… human.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hands clasped behind his back, Eden pictured the city to come.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was very, very pleased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A city entirely his—wealth beyond calculation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On that count alone, he was now one of the richest beings in the galaxy—and would only grow richer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Footsteps. The White Scars' Primarch strode up beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked down over the newly pristine avenues, more and more astonished. \"Brother, how in the warp did you guide that Tyranid swarm?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was uncanny.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The swarm hadn't just driven out the daemons; it had cleaned the rubble, scoured the streets—polished the paving until it shone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No xenos bio-waste left anywhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Apart from some scars of battle, the place might as well have been new.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the most highly taxed hive-cities didn't look this clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Maybe that hive fleet has… particular tastes,\" Eden said airily. \"Or they just hate Drukhari building materials.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every hive-fleet had its peculiarities. Having a brood that liked playing janitor? Entirely \"normal,\" right?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had to admit, the Redemption Swarm's cleaning power was absurd. Even the tightest, filthiest corners—down to the last speck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a stain left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If it wouldn't be a political disaster, he'd keep a detachment of bugs here in the Webway metropolis—newly christened Dawn City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he couldn't.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leaving Tyranids in a human city would have… consequences.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More importantly, they'd steal a mountain of jobs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Civil Affairs had run the numbers: sanitation in Dawn City alone would create close to 20 billion jobs—lifting untold families.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Other sectors would be in the tens of billions more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Humanity needed work desperately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Lord of the Imperium, he was responsible for everyone. Too many were suffering; too many needed employment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every single post mattered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those posts would settle refugees from the darkened zones, let them put down roots—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and feed families.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And restored families, given real schooling, would return quality population to the Imperium—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—more living strength for Eden to marshal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the point of building an economy and seeding jobs: every household that recovers and can spend sparks demand elsewhere—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and prosperity spirals upward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All of which buys resources and manpower for the wars to come.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His economists had autopsied the Old Imperium's decline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So much of the slide into ruin traced back to poverty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vast populations sank into extreme want; industries withered; resource extraction stalled; there was nothing left to squeeze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those people weren't even fit to conscript into the Guard as cannon fodder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worse—extreme poverty breeds Chaos cults.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crisis fed on itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An Imperium that can't replenish its economy fights itself broke—again and again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden had inherited that—not just the tidy ledgers of his Hope Dominion, but the threadbare, drafty tent that was mankind at large.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some advised him to refuse the poisoned chalice—that the Imperium was a crushing liability.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he kept to his own territories—free of the trap of the poorest billions and the blighted regions—his realm would grow faster, claim more stars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hardliners were blunt: maintain momentum, let the worst regions and most desperate billions die off naturally.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pick viable zones, reclaim and rebuild there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let some provinces of the Old Imperium perish; digest the relics and lingering value; shed the load and sprint.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cruel, yes—but from a cold future-first vantage, \"better.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some would pay the price.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Within the Hope Dominion that line stayed fringe—it didn't match Eden's convictions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But among the Imperium's upper crust, it had fans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Life is the Emperor's coin.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If culling bought mankind a longer future and a brighter horizon, some argued, so be it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Farce inevitably followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One high official trumpeted the doctrine all over the forums—until he ran the math and discovered his own sector was on the \"to be abandoned\" list.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He flipped overnight—became its fiercest foe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Every human life is the Emperor's coin—spent with care, never lightly thrown away!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He even launched the slogan, \"I can sacrifice, but I cannot be sacrificed!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The \"New Imperial Development Grand Line\" committee heard the case—and Eden shut it down without a blink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would take the Imperium whole. Reclaim every fallen province he could. Save every Imperial soul he could reach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hard? Yes. But that was the duty of a Lord of Humanity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Choose retreat, and mankind would lose its will to climb—and be crushed when an even harder trial came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So the Line was set:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guided by faith in the Great Savior; reform the political machine; build commerce; expand transport; and sharpen the sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let the Savior's light reach every border; smash every heretic and xenos that resists; take back every inch of lost ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Right now, Dawn City was the keystone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It would be the commercial heart and Webway hub—an engine of jobs and energy beyond counting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In plain terms, it would become the Imperium's second heart—not far beneath Holy Terra in rank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It would change humanity's trajectory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Honestly, if His Majesty weren't \"holding court on the Palace privy\" on Terra, Dawn City might outrank it already.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As it was, the Emperor doted on Dawn City—pinging for progress and defense updates like clockwork.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He worried.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's thoughts spun on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned to the city again and veered the topic. \"Old Khan—doesn't this beat Holy Terra by a mile?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jaghatai Khan didn't press about the Tyranids. He nodded. \"It does. I like it here.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It was a jewel of the ancient Aeldari Imperium after all…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's voice softened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In leisure and the arts, the Aeldari once stood at the peak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after renovations, Holy Terra still wore too much of the old grimdark necromechanic style.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This place had been a Drukhari seat, true—but under it were the high lines of Aeldari grace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the swarm stripped away the Drukhari's wretched spikes, barbs, and meat-machines, the city's former splendor came into view.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It utterly dunked on any Imperial city—and stood shoulder to shoulder with those in the Hope Dominion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dawn City's future look would keep that bedrock—and layer in the Savior's own aesthetic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By now, the arts under Eden had fused many xenos elements into something uniquely human.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They would synthesize those forms and build a dreamlike beauty all our own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"In time, every Space Marine Chapter will build a monastery-fortress here—second home, after their homeworlds.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden glanced at the Khan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Per the plan:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My Redemption Legion, your White Scars, and Guilliman's Ultramarines will each raise a monastery in their demarcated zones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperium will supply resources for the works.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More banners meant more safety for the Webway city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I'll have Jubal Khan start the preliminaries at once!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan was delighted. Free resources and Webway land? Only a fool says no.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew what Webway real estate meant. With a monastery inside the network, White Scars deployments would be lightning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The ministry crews will coordinate with your builders,\" Eden said—and then frowned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Though… the Emperor's been… odd lately. Maybe spend more time with Him?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Emperor's moods had veered younger and stranger—splinters in the mind widening. Would He stabilize?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Father's fine,\" the Khan waved it off, big-shouldered and easy. \"He's been in great spirits. We even had a proper drink with that firewater you sent!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To him, this Emperor was better—easier for the sons to bear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's experience was different—he mostly met the Emperor's gentle face, which adored him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the other sons remembered the tyrant-king.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Primarchs had stood under that iron gaze—and it had branded them deep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even now, meeting the Emperor put them on edge—waiting for the lash of scorn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the Great Crusade, under the crushing weight of human destiny, the Roman rake—the immortal who once toyed with life, the Young Emperor—had vanished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every fiber turned to saving Man. Pure burden. Pure pain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ten-thousand-year plans, sacrifices, deaths, glories, agonies—all worth it—all pointing at one end:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Humanity redeemed forever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ends over means.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was harsh with himself—and harsher with his sons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd poured too much hope into the Primarchs; expectation calcified into cruelty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No father's warmth—only cold, even cruel, utility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were tools—and tools, when dull, are thrown away—like those sons He had ordered erased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under that pressure—and their own incomprehension—many Primarchs twisted and yielded to corruption.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Emperor fell—into a throne of gold, a skull under a crown.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old iron soul became an old soul, suffering without cease—repenting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now the burden had slid to the Savior's shoulders; the Webway dream was real.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Emperor had eased—moods lighter, younger facets resurfacing from the splintered whole.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In conversation, the change was night and day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan had felt it first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The father who'd been all iron had softened; the suffocating pressure faded; He called him \"son.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had the Khan quietly weeping—running to the Palace to soak up that long-denied warmth, drifting the spirit-net with his father like a kid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They'd even gotten truly drunk together; the Emperor stepped down from the Throne to sling an arm over his shoulders and praise his courage at the Siege of Terra.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The words hit so close the Khan blurred with tears—recording a little holo to brag to his brothers later.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were boys forged too fast, starved of gentleness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now the Emperor acted like a father. How could they not be moved?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden exhaled, eased. If the Khan saw it as good, it likely was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A happier Emperor was better than a haunted one. He'd fought for millennia. Let Him rest, a little, in His palace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Let it keep getting better…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A comm flash drew Eden's eye; he smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Guilliman's on the way. Have a proper talk with him when he lands—and then take him to meet His Majesty.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He squinted at the Khan. \"You two good? No brawling, please.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Loyal sons didn't hate each other, but harmony wasn't their strong suit. An incident would be… awkward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brawl? I'm counting the minutes till he gets here.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan's grin beamed—almost too cheerful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"???\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden blinked. \"Why so… happy?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd heard the Khan grumble about Guilliman a thousand times. Now he heard \"Guilliman\" and turned into sunshine?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan drew a deep breath, smoothed his face. \"Nothing. Just remembered something fun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anyway, coming to see Father? I brought stronger liquor.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden eyed him, curious, but waved it off. \"Not this time—committee meeting.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two iron men with turbocharged booze? He'd be carried out. Bad for business.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He left the father-and-son to it and dove into the thousand moving parts of Dawn City's rebuild.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was pure fuel to raise a grand city to match his vision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, his \"work\" was mostly leadership: Secretary Corps and chiefs in tow, he toured sites, checked milestones, ate with foremen, and encouraged the right faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Lord of the Imperium and overall commander for Dawn City's buildout, the main job was showing up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not hard work at all—almost relaxing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A few months later.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dawn City, Core—Harbor Quays\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The gilded Macragge's Honour eased into dock, bathing in warm sunlight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We're early.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman watched a city mid-transformation—chaos layered over grandeur—and a spark of awe lit his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Magnificent. And now—human.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Better still, nothing had waylaid the voyage. No raiders. Barely a warp ripple. Once inside the Webway, it was all green lights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the flagship settled, Guilliman boarded a shuttle for the city, to meet the Savior and the Khan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Since my return, this is the smoothest trip yet. Maybe luck's turning…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thought soothed him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—good news on approach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Chief Stormseer had caught a major augury: the Emperor would resolve the Emperor's Sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Relief washed him clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Father could recover the blade, the shame went with it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What remained was to find \"RomanRake\" and pound the man to paste.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hatch irised open. Guilliman strode out, smiling wide, and closed with his brothers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Eden!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hugged the Savior first, then the Khan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brother—how tough is that armor of yours?\" the Khan boomed, clapping the ceramite with a clang, voice full of mischief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman kept the polite smile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Naturally. One of the finest defensive panoplies in the galaxy. Care for a little sparring, Khan?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Primarchs cared about strength. Always.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan shook his head, hesitated. \"No. I… wanted to warn you about—\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Guilliman cheerfully cut him off and proffered a stasis lunchcase.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Try this first—one of my treasures.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He popped the field: skewers, glistening and fragrant, enough to make a Primarch swallow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aged for decades. Great Unclean One–grade—pure, original-flavor mutant Nurgle-beast. A delicacy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman had tasted it once, sustained psychic damage, and vowed to share the love with every brother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Throne—perfect with liquor. More,\" the Khan said, mouth shining, thumbs up. He pocketed another box to pair with Father's next drink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman was generous. He had enough stock to treat every Primarch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What meat is this? I've never had anything like it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman's smile sharpened; he'd been waiting. He helpfully explained the source—and holo-projected a very nauseating Nurgle-mutant for clarity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You are my dear brother…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the Eagle of Chogoris misted up at the edges.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Learning Eden and Guilliman had both eaten helped. Shared horrors are easier—like a secret pact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sealed away the delicacy and made a note to treat the others later.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Right—what were you going to tell me?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan thought better of it. He grinned too wide. \"Nothing. Come. Father… misses you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He all but dragged Guilliman toward the Palace, hungry for what came next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"There's definitely a catch,\" Eden murmured, watching them go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pinged Webby for a quick intel scrape—and the truth dropped onto his slate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"…oh, hell. Old G, you madman—calling the Emperor a crybaby and challenging His Majesty to a duel?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the spirit-net, the Emperor's alt had posted; Guilliman's BlueGiant had flamed back. It was all there—in glorious, spicy scroll.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden inhaled, then opened a medlink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Put a full med-team on standby outside the Palace. Best trauma suite prepped. Now.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Orders sent, he sprinted for the Palace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Too late to warn Old G. And if the Emperor knew he'd tried, the smiting might be upgraded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All he could do was arrive in time to witness the carnage—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and collect what was left.\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>",2390,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.268Z",1,"novelbin.me","bd60a46afb07d254803c84063acf687ad68de5bd2eaa44182fad9545e77a0c1b","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-540","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-538",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]