[{"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-545":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},1681415,2147,"Chapter 545 546 — Savior: Dominating the Zero-Cost Haul, So Satisfying!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-545",545,"\u003Cp>Eden's eyes were full of anticipation. His need for Blackstone was urgent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not only would it fuel the construction of the Webway city; Blackstone and the technologies around it had uses across many domains—especially in instruments of war.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blackstone could harness the energies of the warp—amplifying, luring, or suppressing them—and thus play a decisive role in warfare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a one-of-a-kind precious material in the galaxy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Long before Mankind uncovered Blackstone's mysteries, xenos had already employed it to raise palaces and span Webway routes; the lingering Blackstone Obelisks and Blackstone Fortresses still carried terrifying power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now Abaddon's Black Legion also grasped the secrets of Blackstone technology. Their research had far outstripped the Imperium's—perhaps even the Savior's own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was a dangerous trend.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"But where did Abaddon get so much Blackstone tech?\" Eden did not believe those shabby, chaos-tainted Black Legion research cells could yield many cutting-edge breakthroughs on their own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Previously they'd only managed crude Blackstone engines and Arks of Omen by allying with the demigod daemon-engineer Vashtorr.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the demigod Arkifane had been torn apart by the Emperor over half a century ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Black Legion, unlike Eden, had no Machine Goddess assisting them; there was no reason their Blackstone research should be advancing this fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The only possibility is that Abaddon traded with the Chaos Gods again and obtained Vashtorr's legacy,\" Eden concluded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Vashtorr the Arkifane fell, the Ruinous Powers seized part of the might he left behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Changer of Ways tinkered with that legacy, he could well spawn a powerful successor to continue the arcane studies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Judging by the situation, the Black Legion's Blackstone weapons were nearly ready—about to be unleashed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, Eden's sudden blame-shifting and aggro-drawing had disrupted the timetable. Otherwise, once they struck…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It would have been quite a problem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, this looting frenzy would likely scatter Blackstone tech from the Legion into wider Chaos hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether that outcome was good or bad remained to be seen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that thought, a prickle of danger crept into Eden's heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The race for Blackstone technology had already begun; he had to keep an edge in this technical competition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That demanded more Blackstone and more know-how to accelerate his current research.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In other words, he needed to seize the richest prizes in this raid—Abaddon's new-pattern Blackstone tech, weapons, and war-beasts—right into his own hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The opportunity was too rare to waste.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"How long until we reach Savadore?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's voice was tight with impatience.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He feared that by the time his fleet arrived, Savadore's pillage-and-plunder carnival would be over—that would be a loss among losses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Majesty, a minor eddy in the local warp lanes has delayed us a little. If nothing else goes wrong, we'll be a day later than planned,\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tarko reported, eyes flicking over course numbers, pressure mounting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had assured the Savior they would make the timetable. Even on the optimal route inside the Eye of Terror, something had still gone awry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Accelerate as much as you can…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden sighed and said no more. In the Eye of Terror, route hiccups were acts of God.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not something mortals could control.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He muttered, \"Hah, maybe we lingered around Old Roboute too long before departure and picked up his bad luck.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Very possible.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan folded his arms and smirked. \"I once arranged an ambush with Guilliman—three hours' ride turned into an entire day.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And thanks to a sky-port collapse he never even reached the battlefield before it ended.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I must admit, the man's luck is downright uncanny.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Come on—cathedral.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A thought struck Eden, and he strode out, heading toward the Urth Ecclesiarchy Grand Cathedral aboard the flagship.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That cathedral stood in the Dreamweaver's central sector, several hundred meters tall, lavish and gilt—a top-tier fit-out for a shipboard basilica.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A bishop-rank prelate kept watch there with a full complement of clergy—one of the more sanctified precincts of the Urth Ecclesiarchy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Uh, why are we going to the cathedral?\" The Khan shot the Savior a side-eye, baffled, but lengthened his stride to follow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Things are getting dicey,\" Eden said without looking back. \"We'll hold a blessing rite in the cathedral—change our luck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe it'll help us arrive faster.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>???\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan was even more lost. \"But… aren't all the statues in there of you?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd poked around earlier out of curiosity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There were no other living saints or statues of the Emperor there; almost everything had been replaced by holy images of the Savior in manifold aspects, plus sacred icons of the golden sun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the concept of the Emperor had been abstracted into a golden sun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wing of the Urth Ecclesiarchy had gone all-in on religious reformation—faith in the Savior and the Golden Sun in place of the old Imperial Creed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They would slowly push it through the wider Church as well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The White Scars Primarch could not fathom why the Savior would go to church to pray… to himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How would that even work?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What's wrong with praying to me?\" Eden said with deadly earnestness, laying it on thick with mystic aphorisms. \"Where there is faith, there is power; without faith, there is nothing. Sincerity makes miracles. Honestly? I'm quite efficacious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Might even cancel out Old Roboute's aura.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the Savior advocated belief in science, he was not above dipping into a little mysticism on occasion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If a practice worked and the outcome was good—then it was ancestral wisdom. If it didn't—well, that was feudal superstition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Very flexible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In idle hours he'd even had the Urth Ecclesiarchy tailor a complete luck-changing liturgy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If nothing else, it soothed the soul.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And with the warp being what it was, who knew—perhaps such a rite did something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for praying to himself—so be it. Self-produced, self-consumed faith.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before long—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Grand Hall blazed with candlelight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Half-dazed, the Khan knelt with the Savior before the statues of the Golden Sun and the Savior, submitting to the so-called luck-changing rite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Little alb-robed cherubs with artificial white wings and soaring hymns surrounded them, and a deluge of holy water drenched his hair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strangely enough, once the rite ended, the raiding taskforce's passage smoothed out—eerily, perfectly smooth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No more incidents at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Days later—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fleet dropped into the outskirts of Savadore, the Black Legion anchorage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We're here…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden thumped the Khan's shoulder, grinning. \"Told you the luck-turning rite works. Next time you're in a bind, run the liturgy a bit yourself.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He peered through the viewports. \"We've lost a day. What's the situation at Savadore?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the sight cooled his heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the distant star-reaches: only a swathe of ash-grey dust; the naked-eye volume lay silent and calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No sign of void war at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Are we late? Did the raiders finish already?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden felt numb—and a little heartsick.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd rushed across half the galaxy just to miss the war, losing a mountain of Blackstone and the chance to get his hands on new Blackstone weapons and war-beasts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those Chaos factions—especially the Red Corsairs—would have the advantage with the latest toys.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Which would become tomorrow's headaches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan nudged the Savior and pointed the other way. \"Brother, wrong direction. Their anchorage might be over there.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden turned—and found another dust reef. Between its veils, light flared and skeins of multicolored lances tangled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clearly, a vicious dog-pile was in progress.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He realized his mistake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd been staring at the old Black Legion moorings—the remnants of a war best forgotten. After that debacle, they had shifted to another sector.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden gazed at the immense dust-cloud and finally exhaled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At least he'd made it in time for the grand pillage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His resource-recovery armadas were dropping in sector by sector, spreading out into three distinct task-forces:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Terror Legion's flagship ark-beast—the Heart of Terror—leading a host of Chaos warships.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Steelfang Ork Empire's Rok space megafortress, with a rabble of cobbled-together greenskin warships rallying in cheerful disorder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Redemption Elite Fleet formed up with far more discipline—an iron-tide battle array, glittering under the wash of warp-light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Per the plan, the three would secretly coordinate from the shadows to grab the juiciest spoils.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon the Savior's fleets punched into the dust bank—other Chaos flotillas were also closing fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among them were looters looking to fish in troubled voids—and Black Legion relief forces sprinting home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unlucky newcomers were intercepted in the margins, caught by the relief flotillas and blasted to scrap before they even reached the dust-cloud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Dreamweaver guided the Redemption Fleet through a belt of meteor rubble—then the view opened up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Throne—this messy?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the bridge, Eden stared at the flower-splashed void and gaped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The battle was even more chaotic than he'd imagined.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was like a pot of porridge burned to tar—and someone had dumped in unknown gunk for good measure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Warships and fortresses of every species and faction clumped in lumps and streaks; shells, lances, and resonant waves turned the lanes into soup.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No coherent pattern. No proper defense. Mostly whoever got hit… got unlucky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that, perhaps, was how the melee had metastasized.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the mix were Chaos reaver flotillas led by the Red Corsairs; Necrons, Aeldari, and Orks drawn by score-settling to avenge old insults; plus scattered Chaos warbands hoping to grab a bargain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Also crashing the party: a Tyranid tendril-fleet—no one knew who had lured it here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Across the void—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A Black Legion star-fortress sat within a void-shield shell, its orbital batteries vomiting chaotic light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An Ork asteroid hulk—refitted into a wreck of a battleship—rammed a crystal-sailed Aeldari cruiser under spore-thrusters; the Aeldari replied at once, special rays rippling the fabric of space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Crescent-winged Necron tomb-ships blinked in and out on phase translation, gathering a massive emerald beam to scythe a Black Legion bastion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the Red Corsairs' Blackstone Fortress single-handedly pinned a Black Legion main fleet, a hail of fire raising ripples across its shields.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seen from high above, the void looked like a painter had hurled oil-colors across the canvas.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Chaos—pure chaos!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden had no idea who was fighting whom, or how he was supposed to insert his forces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he threw his fleets in now, they'd most likely swing blind haymakers in the scrum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Luckily, Eden didn't need to helm the fleet or plot the macro-battle. When the key moment came, he'd board-jump with the Khan and punch out enemy leadership—that was all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His superb admirals would handle the rest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Majesty, the latest operation plan.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tarko bowed and pushed a packet across for the Savior to read.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Scouts had gathered enough intel; the Machine Goddess and the admirals had fused it into an emergency plan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Per that plan:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each task-force would take optimal routes and thrust hard into the Black Legion's forges and bastion districts—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then strip them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Avoid battle where possible; the focus was seize loot, then run.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Dreamweaver and its guardians would hold in a safe pocket, watching for the moment—ready to strike or withdraw.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden—no, Eden—skimmed the plan and nodded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn't the fleet marshal. This was mainly to keep him abreast. Read it or not, it changed little.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He and the Khan then watched the sandbox render of the battlespace and tracked the steady stream of frontline reports.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The arrival of human fleets drew little attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Or rather, no one had bandwidth to care.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Eden knew well: his resource-recovery armadas were actually the largest single armed bloc in this war.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only, no one else knew that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the reports, he pieced together the wider picture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Red Corsairs were hammering the forge district—apparently aiming to steal its engines of war and several Arks of Omen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Other Chaos factions, chaos though they were, had each picked a Black Legion fortress to crack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The xenos, for their part, were bent on vengeance and destruction—yet in the confusion they were blasting anything in reach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Black Legion had star-forts and station defenses on-site and had recalled large fleets to meet the threat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had also conjured hordes of daemons to assail enemy ships.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's recovery armadas—three prongs—punched through toward the forge block, joining other reaver hosts to break the last bastion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Black Legion Forges District.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>BOOM—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sector's last orbital bastion flared into fireworks. Fleets lunged for the forge platforms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Red Corsairs closed hard on the platforms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Master of the Forges and alchemist Walterth stared at the titanic hulls on the platforms—twenty to thirty kilometers long—studying the ghost-flickers of Blackstone woven through their frames, eyes alight:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"These will be our springboard—magnificent creations!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Red Corsairs' flagship Blackstone Fortress pinned the Legion's main screening fleet, buying their spearhead time to tow away the prize from the forges.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And thus reap the greatest profit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Walterth exulted, the bridge bucked under a savage impact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enemy attack!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A giant ship—nearly the size of an Ark of Omen—knifed in from an evil angle and raked the Red Corsairs' spearhead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Have the Terror Legion gone mad?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Walterth seethed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why in the nine hells would those lunatics block him at the finish line instead of grabbing loot?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was lose-lose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They'd only let other Chaos forces—and even the humans—carry off more prize.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But there was no time to debate Terror Legion sanity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those skull-addled freaks were capable of anything—attacking anyone, doing anything absurd—even playing bodyguard for humans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He just needed to shake them and take the prize.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the platform sprawled a wealth of Blackstone constructs and weapons. The greatest prizes were the nine Blackstone Arks of Omen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Red Corsairs wanted those.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the Terror Legion's obstruction slowed them—and the Imperium, xenos, and other Chaos packs got there first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fighting to break free, Walterth watched in fury as Imperial fleets towed away three Arks of Omen, other Chaos bands hauled off two more—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two were destroyed in the struggle—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two remained!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>THUMP!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A vast ray from afar jolted the Terror Legion juggernaut; the Red Corsairs counter-attacked at once, shook the block, and broke through.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They scrambled to the platforms, latched onto the final two Arks of Omen—and fled without a backward glance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"At last—those great creations are ours!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the Red Corsairs' spearhead dragged its prizes and left the Terror Legion fading astern, Walterth finally exhaled and smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Black Legion had been mauled, and the Red Corsairs had bagged brand-new war-beasts—surely their influence would surge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They could swallow up much of the Legion's former strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Lord Huron succeeded in slaying the Despoiler, so much the better.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Walterth, by studying these creations, would claim yet more might and puissance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What… is that?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Through the viewports at the titans in tow, Walterth glimpsed something green scuttling—his eyes bulged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he understood. \"Damn greenskins!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Orks were crash-landing jury-rigged flyers onto the Arks' bare hulls and ripping out anything Blackstone-related—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heaving it into the void to be scooped by other greenskins and carted off.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Steelfang Orks ignored all fire, obsessed with hauling Blackstone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the Red Corsairs dared not rake the Ark hulls with heavy guns—the ships were unpowered, unscreened, naked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the time Corsair boarders had purged the greenskins, the two \"prizes\" had already been stripped of a good fraction of their Blackstone sheathing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Corsairs raged, to no avail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They could only lash down the loot and run—before more chaos befell them in that madhouse battlespace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dreamweaver, Flag Bridge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden read the incoming reports and practically purred. \"Nothing beats zero-cost shopping; this haul is pure profit!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this raid the Redemption Elites had, under cover, towed away three Blackstone Arks of Omen; the Terror Legion had bagged a mountain of Blackstone weapons;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Steelfang Ork fleet was industriously stripping Blackstone off ships, hulks, and structures—bringing home a bumper crop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His Webway expansion's Blackstone shortfall would be filled—with surplus besides!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Abaddon's going bankrupt again after this one…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the glow faded, Eden felt a twinge of reflection.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A question flickered: \"All this fighting—where is the man himself?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thought had scarcely formed when a scream split the air—raw, soul-skinning agony…\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>",2662,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.268Z",1,"novelbin.me","4a7dabad5a2ad9f298d53f6ac566e1bf24867cf6fad72098d8472edb5a0f85da","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-546","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-544",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]