[{"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-559":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},1681329,2147,"Chapter 559 - 560: A New Crusade—Make the Imperium’s Might Known. Make it Resound!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-559",559,"\u003Cp>The dark-gold hover-limo slid into the grand hotel—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—an edifice that married the Aeldari's delicate aesthetics to Baroque splendor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lights blazed within. A magnificent gala was about to begin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>High above, crystal chandeliers hung like constellations, showering the hall in warm, softened light; along the walls, honor banners draped in solemn ranks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bathed in crystal sheen, the Savior's standards looked holier still—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and in them guests' faces shone with excitement and expectation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone wore finery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gentlemen in perfectly cut tails, medals flashing or jeweled pins on their lapels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ladies in lace gowns that brushed the floor, hems whispering as they moved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had imitated the ornaments of Old Terra's nobility; it was like some ancient tableau come to life. Almost no machinery was visible in the hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Refreshing—novel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Uniformed servers, immaculate, wove through the crowd with silver trays,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>topping off the wine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had waited so long for this gala that they'd dreamed of scenes like it in their sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For this was the banquet of His Majesty the Savior—the New Sun of the Imperium—held expressly to fete the realm's rising nouveaux nobles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That august presence would grace the hall shortly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A period band in one corner played a gentle air; piano's softness, violin's lilt, cello's depth, and flute's bright clarity braided into an elegant atmosphere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon a special piano piece began, drawing many heads.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Savior…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such a unique, graceful style. I've never heard music like this anywhere in the Imperium. It's beautiful…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lady in the black gown was half-lost in it. She realized the style differed vastly from current Imperial music—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>which was mostly sacred: solemn, mournful, or rousing, steeped in the Ecclesiarchy's tones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This piece was calmer, perfumed with wistfulness and tender intimacy, soothing the heart\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>and inviting thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"My lady, it's a piano 'nocturne' by a composer of Old Terra—name: Chopin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tens of millennia old now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His Majesty salvaged this lost cultural treasure—rarities beyond price.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shahim drifted over with a glass of red.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The head of the Govindi Family—the Imperial Blood Free-Trader—had grown still more seasoned with the years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His slightly timeworn, striking features drew a ring of ladies in a heartbeat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ah—Lord Shahim.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They pricked up their ears at his explanation, faces bright with surprise that the piece was so ancient and august.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By Imperial tradition, the older and rarer, the holier and nobler—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and the lost legacy of Old Terra from tens of millennia past? Nigh unique.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were eager to memorize every word.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shahim had been on the road for years across the Imperium's breadth and had only just returned to Dawn City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He now oversaw not only the Free-Trader bureau but also parts of Commerce and the Webway route program—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—one of the gala's organizers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew much, and he knew the newest culture seeded by the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Savoring the nocturne, he spoke of its song-like lyricism and poetic charm,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>and mentioned that phonograph-grade sounders and vinyl disks of the series would be sold in Dawn City's emporia—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—with regional licenses granted to Free-Traders, which set many guests abuzz.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Uncle Eden always knows how to speak to people's hearts—and their faith.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As traders hurried up to talk business, Shahim smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Spreading \"retro\" culture was one of His Majesty's aims.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had to be. Long war and suffering had made Imperial arts rigid and lifeless, bound at the hip to orthodoxy—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—a dead pool.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Imperium was to slough off decadence and ossified feudalism, fresh thought and culture had to strike it like a bell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inevitable: as economies revived, regions were rebuilt, and living standards rose, people shed some of their old despair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They needed something new to seek. Religion alone would not suffice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clamp minds, and commerce cannot truly advance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So His Majesty launched a movement he called the \"Renaissance,\" using Old Terra's arts to unbind the mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It touched many fields—music, painting, architecture, letters, and more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the Changer of Ways' temptations—paradoxically, research showed that harsh repression made souls easier to inflame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So long as the movement did not go to wild extremes, there was little to fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps the Imperium's slide into rot, conservatism, and feudal reflexes had been one of the Changer's tricks all along.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, with Sacred Towers rising across the regions, Chaos incursions would fall sharply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a few polite words with the traders, Shahim turned the topic to Imperial scenery and cuisine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A night like this wasn't for deep commercial haggling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon he and the guests were sampling wines from every corner of the realm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enormous cabinets displayed the vintages:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>from garden-world vineyards, golden wines with a breath of sun and breeze in each sip; from ice-world stills, bracing spirits that made the head swim and the blood race; from agri-world orchards, ruby fruit wines—sweet but not cloying, fragrant and full.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each bottle had been chosen with care—and might soon flow along trade lanes to every region.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Praise the Savior~\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yor bowed slightly to the Imperial Blood Free-Trader, then began to taste.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A wanderer-merchant from the Hawke System who had lately made his name, Yor savored each mouthful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides sheer pleasure, he was picking possible lines to fold into his trade portfolio.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small profits, perhaps—but habit is habit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More importantly, he gave unqualified support to any wish or inclination of His Majesty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was Yor's secret.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back during the Battle for Baal, Yor had been no more than a small Free-Trader, wealth amounting to two scabrous tubs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the Savior's Commerce Ministry called traders to Baal to discuss a Tyranid development project.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It sounded absurd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though His Majesty promised to shield the convoy, Baal was a war zone. Going there was the tallest of orders—nine deaths for one life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many traders let fear have its way and refused the call.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yor did not.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew the Savior—knew the Primarch-Hope—was merciful and generous, and would not waste a man's faithful effort.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ignoring his clan's protests, he wagered most of his meager capital, crammed both battered ships with aid supplies, and toddled off to Baal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He donated the matériel the war needed—and waited, sick at heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"At the time I half expected to die with Baal. But I believed the Savior would win…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thinking back, Yor took a long pull of spirits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He glanced at two traders beside him. \"We weren't betrayed. In the end we got the victory we'd prayed for, did we not?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We did—His Majesty's grace is upon us.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Who would've thought the Tyranid development project was real? Those disgusting bugs, turned into human food.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two traders sighed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had wagered right, won safety, audience, and authorizations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A killing—of the profitable kind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Off those first contracts—and ties with the Astra Militarum—Yor had become a notable magnate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sold canned bug-meat and many chitin by-products.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He now held more contracts with Commerce, owned several Tyranid-ranch worlds and sprawling hive-city plants,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>and fielded a transport fleet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was riding high.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His only regret was this: the galactic trade center promised by His Majesty had gone quiet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had been granted a shopfront there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had nearly forgotten—until Commerce's invitation arrived, summoning him to Dawn City to discuss new ventures.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He came at once, thrilled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only on reaching the city the officials called \"Dawn\" did he grasp its scope and immensity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He realized at once: Dawn City would be the future of Imperial commerce—the prize every house and Free-Trader must chase.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any player shut out of Webway commerce would face extinction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, he was in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A stir rippled through the crowd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yor looked up—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and flushed red with excitement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A tall figure in evening dress—regal, luminous, the brightest star in a night sky—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>drew every gaze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Y-Your Majesty the Savior…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yor forced the words past his throat, fighting to maintain gala decorum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Uncle Eden, you haven't come keep me company in so long!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Milia hurried up, elegantly taking the Savior's arm; the swing of her white skirt was a flower opening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Govindi twins' little sister was still all youthful sparkle—and statuesque besides.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She tipped her face up to Eden's chiselled profile, eyes shining, heart dancing—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>and hugged him tighter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I'm here now, aren't I?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden ruffled her soft gold hair and smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Milia on his arm, he moved into the hall, nodding to the guests as if this were any ordinary soirée.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The guests did not swoon as the nobles had; they kept their manners, their measure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden knew: compared to the staged frenzy of high nobility, these people's loyalty to him was the truer metal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And nights like this showed his closeness to them—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—a step nearer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He greeted his way along. Many faces were first meetings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was enough. For him to be here at all was a statement. For them to see the Emperor in the flesh—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>was a credential of the highest order.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Master Yor—I remember you. We met at Baal.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's eye caught on a familiar face; he paused to speak a few words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This little trader had once piloted two rust-buckets in with a shipment of support matériel—memorable; afterward he'd peddled every flavor of bug-meat under the suns.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had a fine reputation with the Guard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden had tried several tins himself—tasty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They did bug-meat right—distinctive, no worse than other Imperial meats.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Y-yes, I was honored with an audience then.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yor mastered himself, lifted his glass to toast his Savior—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>swallowed, steadied, and seized the moment. \"Your Majesty, the latest Hawke-System tins have been dispatched to your residence. If you have time to taste them,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>we would be grateful for your judgment.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew how to use an opening—and how to sell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any word from the Savior would be rocket fuel for his trade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I'll taste them myself.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden nodded his assent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rather admired the can-seller. To raise an industry from tinned bug-meat—no small feat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More importantly, the man had eye—and guts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A thought struck Eden; he offered, \"If you can manage it, buy property in Dawn City. Now is the time.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his experience, once consensus crystallized around core-district real estate, values climbed and climbed—until the consensus broke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Things that appreciate draw people like a magnet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperium was on the rise; this was likely the cheapest Dawn City would ever be. Miss the train now and you bled for it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He let the hint fall and moved on, trading greetings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a time he danced one piece with Milia, then took his leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An Emperor's time is precious; his schedule was packed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yor watched the Savior's back and immediately began discussing Dawn City assets with the circle around him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They agreed to grit their teeth and buy—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—even if it meant mere use-rights, with heavy annual taxes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Savior's Sanctum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden sifted the reports on his desk:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>projected revenues for Dawn City; metrics on Webway construction; a great bolus of resources and wealth paid in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Grand Inquisitor operations had uprooted rebel noble houses across the Imperium, confiscating their hoarded treasure of millennia—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—worth a good ten thousand years of Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds in taxes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then there were the construction levies and fines on the high nobility—tens of times the confiscations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enough to bankroll Phase II in Dawn City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Residential property sales, too—especially in the housing districts—had become a major, steady income stream.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those funds were earmarked to build up the Misty Sector—above all the Dark Angels' territories and worlds skirting the Eye of Terror.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Redemption Fleet—and Guilliman and the Khan—were already convening councils of war.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon the legions of the Imperium would scour those regions clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unlike the rough recapture of the Unbowed Crusade, this time it would be a carpet-sweep—an irresistible hammerblow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let humanity's enemies feel the Awe of the Imperium—and the Savior's wrath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would ride with this expedition himself, alongside three Primarchs—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—the strongest host the Imperium had fielded in millennia.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No matter whether a world had fallen to open war or deep corruption—if there was the faintest bud of it, the hosts would scour from core to crust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No sneak-thief, no gutter-cult would be spared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They would make the New Imperium's prestige ring from one end of the Misty Sector to the other—win centuries of peace—make every foe of Man quail at the name!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Afterward, the Ministry of Works would move in to rebuild—and raise Sacred Towers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The people would be fed, and lifted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's brow furrowed over a line of figures.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hss—why so low? Ill-omened start. I'm about to march—and this is what I get to chew on…\"\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>",2097,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.240Z",1,"novelbin.me","961c724f2a3f27db8756e993f1ccfcc9c0b83062b774f0058168cdbb55ebc901","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-560","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-558",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]