[{"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-556":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},1681326,2147,"Chapter 556 557 — Your Majesty the Savior, I Can Negotiate—And I Can Be Loyal!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-556",556,"\u003Cp>\"Sending Deville to handle this really was the right call. That hound is even more capable than I'd thought.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden studied the battle reports a moment longer, then allowed himself a thin, satisfied smile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With his mad dog having seized the initiative and tearing out throats across the theater, he could move to his next step.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the Empire's high nobles understood what had become of the rebels, they would—surely—choose wisely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He flicked off the hololithic display, in fine spirits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lifting a glass, he tasted the latest tribute from a certain garden world—a red wine said to be crafted by the purest young merfolk maidens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had a singular character.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not bad. There is, indeed, a breath of maiden-sweetness and the sea about it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden did have a weakness for regional specialties—especially the rare ones with a particular charm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Tarko, how long have those high nobles been… enjoying the hotel?\" he asked, glancing at the secretary-general waiting at his side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not long ago, he'd had every high noble arriving through the webway bussed straight to a luxury complex jointly built by the Ministry of the Interior, the Scholastica Psykana, and the Inquisition:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>the West Ice Vault Grand Hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There they would receive very special hospitality—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Twenty-four-seven \"protective custody\" under armed security and total surveillance; bell service on demand; cudgel-massage therapy; facial treatments; dynamic thought audits; psyker-guided mental \"recuperation\"; deep-water immersion sessions…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And, of course, nutritionally balanced meals.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you weren't a high noble, you didn't qualify for so exalted a package.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Half a month,\" Tarko replied with a respectful bow. \"More high nobles are still arriving to check in. It seems the Grand Inquisitor's 'advice' has had its effect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"No one wishes to depart. They are all waiting for Your Majesty's arrival.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It seems they are paragons of Imperial loyalty,\" Eden said, well pleased, topping off his wine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Then let them wait a while longer. Let them enjoy themselves. No one in the Empire is more lenient toward the nobility than I am.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I trust they'll repay the favor.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no need to rush.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The flame was not yet hot enough; it needed time to simmer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Majesty is merciful,\" Tarko said, bowing again. \"I'll notify the hotel to extend their stay, and assign additional Inquisitorial cadres to the premises.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Having settled the reports and the West Ice Vault arrangements, Eden rose and returned to the Sanctum's private chambers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He intended to sample the Lacas Sector's tribute next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Half a month earlier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dawn City, outer approaches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shuttles dropped from the atmosphere one after another, angling toward the colossal structure rising kilometers into the sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aboard one such shuttle…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several high nobles sat together in quiet, tight conversation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were principals of the Lacas Pan-Sector League—the Empire's eminent bloodlines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Didn't expect we'd be joining the feast this soon—and negotiating with the Empire's New Sun,\" said Drew Ovelia, drawing deeply on a Krieg Death Cigar. The potent compounds twined pain with pleasure until he floated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An expensive Dawn City import—its Drukhari-esque bite had conquered him quickly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The heir of House Korda frowned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He disliked narcotics—especially anything that dulled the mind. His house held that such vices were unworthy of an elite administrator.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thumbed on the sub-dermal filters in his face, scrubbing the air of every offending trace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many high nobles took similar augmetics, the better to screen out toxins—including those favored by assassins.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It sharply improved survival odds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Catching his breath, he said, \"It appears the Savior means to compromise—otherwise he'd have delayed talks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"At least until he finished crushing the Ascolon Sector. Everyone's watching that front.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"But it's understandable: the Tyranid swarms are stirring again; the Necrons' Silent King has announced an expansion; dead zones are spreading, and several Imperial fleets have already been annihilated; and there's even an unknown Traitor Astartes warband in the field.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He hasn't time to dally with us.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Korda's heir fixed Drew with a look. \"My advice stands. The Lacas Pan-Sector League should begin pressure immediately and extract more concessions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We must seize the moment.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other League delegates turned to Drew, waiting on the candidate-heir of House Ovelia to decide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You press too hard. We wait,\" Drew said, shaking his head once more. Korda's blood was ever-restless—ever chasing profit by risking the blade's edge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drew disliked that kind of hunger. Not that it hadn't worked—Korda had soared quickly and reaped unnatural margins.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even so, something in Drew's gut was uneasy—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that unease came from the Empire's New Sun. He could not name its source.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So the Ovelia heir chose patience.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was ancient-Terran stock, elite-schooled; a high noble must read the board.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And at times, instinct mattered most.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ovelia archives bulged with histories. Drew loved to mine their dust for lessons—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One above all: when temptation comes, keep a clear head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The webway's profits could drive men mad.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in the hinge-hours of history, one wrong choice—or one step against the tide—could bury a house.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Caution first.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Having refused Korda, Drew fell silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The others said no more. They knew the limits of their own remits—and when to keep their counsel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>SCREE—SCREE—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shuttle settled onto a landing plate. The ramp yawned open; the clamor outside rolled in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They disembarked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On foot, they took the two-kilometer promenade toward a severe, industrial-chic hotel structure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The walkway was already packed—masses of high nobles from across the Empire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drew and his party had scarcely cleared the ramp when pressure fell on their lungs and a hush stole their breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because lining both sides of the path were Titan god-engines, towering and hung with streamers and banners—as if welcoming honored guests from afar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even as decor, such giants weighed on every passerby.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"So this is the Empire's New Sun's strength,\" Drew murmured, drawing a long breath. He'd heard the rumors—yet the sight still shook him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Across Imperial space, no one save the Savior could muster so many Titan Legios at once.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A demonstration, plainly enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But intimidation would not quench the nobles' hunger for the webway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the first shock, more than a few lips curled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In their view, such pageantry was the Savior's last resort—a substitute for more effective measures he dared not take.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They walked on. Vigilant Emperor's Angels patrolled in force—Space Marines providing the cordon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon they reached a vast Hall of Honors before the hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Banners heavy with battle-honors lined the walls; holos and reliefs froze the Savior's wars in deathless scenes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At center, a statue hundreds of meters tall depicted the Emperor crowning the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Elsewhere were statues and projections spanning the Savior's eras—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Governor of Urth executing traitors in public; bleeding the hosts of Chaos on Macragge; shattering Be'lakor in the Charadon theater;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>standing before Tyranid tides at Erebus and Baal; crossing blades with a Bloodthirster of singular title…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Perhaps the New Sun's will is more resolute—and cruel—than we imagine,\" Drew said quietly before a statue in which the Savior, as daemon-eater, tore a fiend in half, drenched in vile ichor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lingered before several recordings of the Savior executing traitors—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And his unease deepened to outright doubt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others in the League halted as well, studying their core member.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Korda's heir scowled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Lord Drew, what's this? Don't tell me you're cowed by props?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This is exactly when we mustn't let theatrics sap our resolve.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drew ignored him—staring instead at the hotel's gemstone-studded gates. For a heartbeat he saw a colossal maw.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His instincts whispered of the oncoming peril.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This hall, he realized, was the Savior's final warning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The histories were clear: before the New Sun broke traitors, he offered a last chance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Miss it—and only the thunder remained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But… can the New Sun truly hold the board?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sweat beaded on Drew's brow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At last he chose—and opened a private channel to the League:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Friends, change of plan. The League will not pressure the New Sun. We pivot—immediately—to goodwill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I have reason to believe he has both control of the field and the will to pay any price. Moreover, he has already moved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If we don't seize this chance, we'll be struck—and struck hard.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Impossible!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Venthyr League will never accept a decision like this!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Think it over—we should brief our families first.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The whiplash turn stunned them. To them it looked like capitulation—hands outstretched for chains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It exceeded the authority of delegates.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We have no time. Decide now,\" Drew said—and felt a lightness inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a huge risk—even grounds for punishment or losing his succession. But it was, to his mind, the best of bad ends.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An heir worthy of the name knows when to bend—to shield the blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Empire stands at a hinge of history. A storm is coming—and its eye is the New Sun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If we do not accept it—if we do not accept his light—we'll burn.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew, however, he had no right to compel allies—perhaps not even his own house.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I can speak only for House Ovelia. If you trust me, offer him goodwill.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Division within the League was a price he would pay. This was life and death. Let each save themselves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He ignored the protests and pinged the Ovelia fleet—ordering them to present one of the Lacas Sector's rarest tributes:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A carefully bred cohort of catfolk—civilized beast-kin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Peerless attendants—and, when permitted, exquisite bedmates—who could bewitch any lord of the Empire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had been shipped to Dawn City to gift or sell to nobles for favors and bargains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he would send all of them to the New Sun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And pair the gift with a pledge: House Ovelia would unconditionally submit to the New Sun's will and accept the reforms and commercial codes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Orders sent, Drew drew a breath and walked toward the hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hours ahead would decide his fate. If he was wrong, his end would be ugly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he trusted his read.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Damn him—he means to split the League,\" Korda's heir hissed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like many others, he rejected surrender.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet some delegates fell in behind Drew and made the same choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Passing the threshold, Drew emerged into a hall of staggering luxury.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seating bays spread in every direction; this single space could take a hundred thousand. Attendants wove between tables, serving the highborn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bands of Emperor's Angels patrolled the perimeter, keeping immaculate order.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"…Did I just pass through a webway fold?\" Drew muttered, belatedly realizing the distances he'd crossed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A moment later he noticed the comms were one-way: outside traffic flowed in; nothing flowed out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There were no exits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Oddly, that eased him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It's begun.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without question, the Empire's New Sun—His Majesty the Savior—had started processing the nobility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At least he had moved first. Perhaps his end would not be the worst.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those arriving after them soon felt the same wrongness—fear for some, anger for others.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they didn't riot. They sat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The true verdict lay outside, where the Savior contested the nobles' power-bases across their demesnes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drew and those who agreed with him found seats and accepted the delicacies set before them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before long he spotted the uneasy Korda faction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They kept to themselves—two camps, clear as a line on a map.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And now the nobles understood: they were prisoners.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A few tried to protest—or to resist—and received no answer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Our holdings span half the Empire's frontiers. If we stand together, the Savior can do nothing!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Exactly. Now, more than ever, we must not flinch!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus began an even broader round of caucusing—alliances knitting and re-knitting, seeking mass enough to intimidate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some even mocked the Savior—claiming this \"detention\" only made their cooperation easier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But others held their tongues. They had already chosen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drew merely watched as Korda's people canvassed the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He, like many, kept one eye on the feeds from outside. That was the true arbiter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Savior failed at war, he would not dare touch them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the bulletins rolled in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among them:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Savior had proclaimed a purge of noble treason in the Ascolon Sector, vowing to spare no traitor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had convened small merchant houses and families in another hotel to negotiate webway commercial regimes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Uncomfortable—but expected. In their place, they would have done the same.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when the Grand Inquisitor's results arrived, it was like a vortex torpedo detonating beneath the hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Impossible!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>High nobles stared, disbelieving—then afraid—as if they had just glimpsed a shape that should not be.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a brief flurry, a tomb-silence fell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many shook.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Savior's mad dog was more merciless than rumor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>According to the reports, the Grand Inquisitor had erased the Wolter Dynasty with terrifying speed—without allowing unrest to even start.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every Wolter bloodline—extirpated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he ripped up every patron behind them—several ancient houses with close ties to Holy Terra.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They, too, went to the block. Hundreds of millions executed—root and branch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even scions serving as senior officials on Holy Terra were assassinated and put to death—senators among them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He followed blood-charts across the galaxy, hunting every thread of kinship—and killed every single one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Word had it he unleashed master seers to ensure nothing was missed—dragging out even after-branches a thousand years removed and ending them one by one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worse: he even dug up long-dead kinsmen who had turned to Chaos centuries prior—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>and fed them sanctified bone-ash shells in public. They died screaming, protesting their innocence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To reach them, the Savior's hosts blasted several Chaos lords' dominions to rubble. It was… savage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One such turncoat howled, moments before his doom, that he had been disowned long ago; that for centuries he had not lifted a hand against the Imperium—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>and still he died.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Grand Inquisitor's net enclosed not only men, but pets, and even unhatched eggs, which were shaken to slurry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those ancient houses named rebel were scoured clean—no stray blood left behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And he did it all fast—so fast there was no time for anyone to react.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As those reports hit the hall, the Emperor's Angels moved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They pulled hundreds of nobles straight from the crowd and executed them on the spot—for blood ties to the proscribed houses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>However faint the link, precious blood ran across the tiles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Terror spread like fire through a grain-field. The nobles saw it clearly now: the Savior held the board; their advantage was gone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No house would hazard the risk of being pulled up by the roots. Even if some still wished to resist, their blood-allies would stop them—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For fear of sharing their doom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The blood-alliances were broken.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before anyone could marshal a new thought, the hall's vox-casters carried the Savior's voice:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone in the hotel would be investigated. Only once ruled loyal would they be released. Any resistance would be met with death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Psykers and Emperor's Angels put down troublemakers at once. Nobles disappeared into the little black rooms one after another.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I want to see His Majesty!\" bellowed one noble as they dragged him away—snot and tears running. \"I can negotiate! I can be loyal!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Majesty the Savior—my glorious sun!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Angels did not so much as twitch. They shoved him through a door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the hall, nobles sat in their fear. Now and then a scream bled through the walls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside, the subjects suffered the full measure—psychic and physical torments—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>then were healed, and returned… to await judgment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some never returned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drew noticed the Korda cohort were escorted in—and never reappeared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He, too, waited in the unknown—and could not stop the fear from seeping in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Drew Ovelia, Lacas Sector—candidate heir of House Ovelia. You will come with us.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two Emperor's Angels—armor stinking faintly of fresh blood—loomed over him moments later, violence coiled about them like a scent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next second, they might well put him down.\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>",2618,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.240Z",1,"novelbin.me","6fcd82b9b2e5b4eaf2a59c4655e7d8ec2f23565e5d18ce6a307b6b1203b60fec","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-557","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-555",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]