[{"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-569":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},1681339,2147,"Chapter 569 - 570 — The Lion: I Am a Born Leader. Submit to Me!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-569",569,"\u003Cp>Throne Palace, great hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's consciousness returned from the Warp to realspace, his brows knit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brother, did you find the Lion?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman stepped forward, wanting the specifics of the Lion's situation—and fearing bad news.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Khan also looked over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Imperium lost another loyal Primarch, it would be a grievous blow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I found him,\" Eden met the two Primarchs' eyes and said, a little regretfully. \"The Lion should already have awakened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Sadly, before I could tell him about the Imperium's condition, I lost his trail.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could feel that, in the instant the Lion came to, a pulse shook the Warp—and the man vanished from where he'd been, by some means.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without a trace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He lives!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that, both Guilliman and the Khan couldn't help showing a brief smile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After ten thousand years, news that another of their brothers yet survived—indeed a joy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only, what Eden said next made them a bit uneasy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All knew: losing contact with the Lion would surely affect the follow-on phases of the Redemption Crusade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's gaze rose toward the high throne. \"If the Emperor—the old man—could act again, He might be able to reach that guy.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His own \"little sun\" essence had grown powerful, but he still couldn't contact a corporeal being across star-sectors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise he'd already be like the Emperor—nigh omniscient, nigh omnipotent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden glanced at the sleeping Emperor and the grey-robed elder upon the throne, then gave up on the notion of slapping Him awake with a big psychic smack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His condition wasn't stable. Disturbing Him rashly could trigger unknown consequences.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Better to be conservative.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Our crusade plan continues. The Lion's awake anyway; he should sense the darkness coiling over the sector and move to halt its spread.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden looked to Guilliman and the Khan as he said it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion was the First Primarch—among the very peak of their brotherhood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once awake, he'd surely leverage his vast prestige and natural command to re-marshal a great Imperial host.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for them, they'd just press on by the book—at most quicken the pace, drive into the Gloaming Sector's central hub as fast as possible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Lion can withstand that darkness.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman nodded, tone utterly firm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had always believed in the Lion's abilities. That man was among the most gifted organizers and leaders of the Primarchs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On par with himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, the Sixteenth Primarch—the Warmaster Horus—had been a formidable leader as well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he'd been stripped of Primarch's rank and no longer belonged to the Imperium, so he didn't count.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for that \"Savior\" Primarch… that brother merely had more resources, more armies, more talent, a stronger Warp-borne essence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In other respects, he was slightly inferior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Primarch of the Ultramarines did not think further—lest it sour his mood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bzz—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Primarchs' comm-beads chimed in turn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden glanced down at the message and smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Departmento Munitorum just reported in: the Redemption Crusade fleet is fully assembled. We can depart at the latest the day after tomorrow.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"How I've missed this. After ten thousand years, the eagles of Chogoris will again spread their wings—to join a grand crusade!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Imperium's domains in the Gloaming Sector will see a complete liberation.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman read the appended situation reports with care, anticipation in his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Indomitus Crusade he'd organized before had been vast, but once divided among many sectors, it was still too few in aggregate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It could at most open lanes through key regions of the Imperium, and block the enemy from pushing through Imperium Sanctus to strike Holy Terra.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Simply put, the Indomitus Crusade was to get the Imperium into the ICU—to prevent sudden death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This Redemption Crusade, however, was full-spectrum treatment—restoring its vitality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Gloaming Sector was merely Phase One. After that, the push would expand to all Imperial sectors, breaking every war-zone at any cost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those included the vast Silent Dead Zones, the Ork megadominions, and Tyranid-ravaged space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Victory!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three Primarchs clasped hands. Behind them, the Throne's radiance shone—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their silhouettes blazed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the Great Crusade, the Imperium's loyal Primarchs gathered once more—and set forth upon a new crusade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I have an idea.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden cut a glance at the figure upon the Throne, a bit furtive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Emperor's cache of wine is still pretty big. Let's have ourselves a proper drink right here.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Previously he'd procured quite a lot of top-shelf vintages for the Emperor. They were stored in compartments within the Black Throne—the Black Mechanicum archmagos had packed the Throne with far too many functional bays.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More importantly, those bottles had been blessed up close by the Throne's holy light. Divine flavor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And likely the old man wouldn't have many chances to drink them again—so the brothers could do Him the favor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Not a bad suggestion!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Savior's words made both Primarchs' hearts stir—and feel a naughty thrill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They'd never before entertained such a way of \"offending\" Father. Dangerous things done among men always quickened the blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three got to it at once—skulking up onto the Throne, quietly lifting every last bottle from its storage. Then they drank to their hearts' content in one go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the wine was gone, they slipped out of the Throne Palace at speed and headed for the marshalling void-docks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the firmament, the Imperial armadas blotted out the sky, awe-inspiring in their might.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A vast, morale-stoking ceremony was held.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, amid the blooming fire of fireworks, the immense fleet made sail—entering the Webway toward the Gloaming Sector.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"&%*#, where's my wine?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one knew how much time passed before a Warp-tinged curse echoed through the quiet Throne Palace…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gloaming Sector, rim.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the void, a glittering white ring stretched wide, glimmering beneath the light of a red giant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A vast belt of icy asteroids—nature's fortress, enough to check most void bodies and fleets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even a hive fleet would struggle to pass with ease.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But a black shadow rolled over it, blotting out the red giant's light—dimming it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then the region erupted in a light far brighter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A deluge of macro-cannons and lance beams hammered every crystalline boulder ahead, concentrating fire on the larger masses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After that, the immense fleet drove straight through—like a voidborne icebreaker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Brazen to the point of arrogance, they simply crushed this natural barrier at any cost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Aboard the Dreamweaver, under the observation dome.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ehhhhm…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman stared in silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had only just finished explaining the danger of this natural barrier and proposed detouring—then the fleet rolled forward without hesitation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Smashing through at maximum speed—brutal to the core.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brother… this is a bit wasteful on the ammunition. It's also dangerous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Those boulders are hard as hell on the surface—there's every chance they'll slam and damage the prows' armor.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman paused to salvage some face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden had melted into the beanbag lounger before the observation dome, none of the martial grandeur he'd shown at embarkation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In private, he always went with whatever was comfortable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He took a long pull of ice-cold cola, then handed a can to his good brother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Relax. The van ships are all fitted with relic-grade heavy plating. Never mind these rocks—ramming an enemy cruiser wouldn't blow them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"As for 'wasteful ammo,' I've got to chide you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's eyes turned serious. \"We can't pinch every shell. That invites problems. Munitions are made to be fired. Sitting in a magazine does nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Besides, our armories are practically overflowing with fresh production. If we don't shoot it off, it's going to expire!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Savior's words nearly choked Guilliman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Expire?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperium had been poor for so long there was no such thing as \"expired\" ammunition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even stock that had sat for centuries—if it still detonated, it was good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As long as it didn't detonate aboard ship.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Eden's dominions were different.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With forge worlds in leapfrog expansion, weapons and munitions output had long surpassed demand—but idling production lines cost even more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So they could only keep producing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus a new rule for the Savior's armories: no stock older than thirty years. At term, it must be expended.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether sold, used in war, or hauled out for live-fire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hence a common sight in the Savior's realms: some unit or task force receiving an urgent order to process \"expired\" munitions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Main method—haul them out and shoot targets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Commanders and troops alike groaned under such orders—because there was just too much ammo. They fired till they gagged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some soldiers had to throw a dozen crates of grenades in a row—till their shoulders dislocated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Astartes burned out one bolter after another; muzzles never stopped spitting fire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Certain starships had logged hundreds of consecutive salvos on a single drill. Crew and officers alike reeled from the pounding vibrations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In time, they got used to it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the intense live-fire honed every unit till the motions were instinct—feeding skill with oceans of rounds and boosting combat power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not a bad outcome.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, Eden had come to the Gloaming Sector to make it rain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Crush every enemy of the Imperium with the fiercest barrages, then stuff its suffering citizens with a surfeit of supplies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Old G, you've got to adapt to the New Imperium's style. Don't be so stingy anymore.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden looked at Guilliman, earnest. \"I've prepped a few hundred warehouses' worth for you. Try to expend the lot before the next resupply comes in!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The New Imperium's logistics were built on surplus—enormous supply convoys and service platforms followed the fleets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Running out of shells wasn't a concern—the only worry was that you couldn't shoot fast enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not just weapons and ammo—every other class of stores was the same. The transport flotillas numbered about ten times the fighting fleet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And they all had basic combat capability.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They just didn't join the fighting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I… I'll try.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman swallowed, unsure whether to laugh or cry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet for a commander, nothing in war was more exquisite than abundant munitions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd gotten used to penny-pinching—down to ordering individual batteries to conserve shells.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anything to keep a crusade operating in hard times—longer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Frazzled, harried, cut to the bone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps recalling those hardships, a barely seen sheen wet his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly he was told to fight rich—he really wasn't used to it!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After discussing the Gloaming Sector's situation and logistics in detail with Eden, he teleported back to his flagship—the Radiance of Macragge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon arrival in the sector, the three Primarchs would split and operate on three axes—then regroup at the next nodal hub to refit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cycle that rhythm—until the Gloaming Sector was freed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By now, the White Scars' Primarch was approaching the sector by another route, and soon the Ultramarine would split from the Savior to take his own front.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn't long before the joint fleet broke the ice-belt and formally entered the Gloaming Sector.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There the armada divided in two and advanced on separate vectors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Tch. Pure transit is so damned boring. Where did that guy the Lion run off to…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden lay back in the beanbag and changed position, staring out at the endless stars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unlike Guilliman or the Khan, he didn't need to personally helm the fleet—nor was that his craft, and it was tiring.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So absent major ground warfare or boarding actions—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This Savior—Imperial Emperor—at most could scroll the psy-net and skim the war reports. There wasn't much to do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hm? Finally, a planet?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden's eyes brightened at the newest bulletin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A green world named \"Kamas\"—roughly light-industrial in development.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Per fleet survey—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The civilization had been ravaged by Chaos. A massive Chaos keep had been raised, and the natives had fled or were hiding in the deep jungles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With little in the way of orbital defense, the world was beneath the Redemption Crusade fleet's notice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In high spirits, Eden helped guide the bombardment against the planetbound Chaos forces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a clean sweep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crusade fleet didn't even close—Dreamweaver alone erased what pitiful orbital defenses the heretics had.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then came the washing of fire: nearly a thousand ship-mounted heavy guns hammered at speed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dreamweaver's main battery flattened the enemy's primary Chaos fortress in a single shot—then dropped a Savior's icon, nearly a hundred meters tall, into the yawning crater.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Chaos rabble hadn't even grasped what was happening—before they were annihilated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not only that, Eden airdropped caches of weapons throughout the jungle—to arm the people hiding there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With that done—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dreamweaver returned to the fleet and ghosted away—like a passing giant pausing to hose an anthill he despised.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ending it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Redemption Crusade had bigger nuts to crack—no time to linger.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A relief fleet would arrive within a week at most—to scrub residual taint and begin reconstruction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not long before, in the forest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Giant trees stood shouldering the sky, blotting out the sun. The ground was a tangle of undergrowth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A brook threaded through, murmuring over stone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I… seem to have had a very long dream.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion awakened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gazed at the water's reflection—the face of an old man, the black plate on his frame edged with green—and felt a little dazed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He no longer remembered what had happened in the dream, nor who he was, nor why he was here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rose, following the brook—and a call so faint it might have been imagined.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In time the brook widened, merging into a little river.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Across it stood a city-crowned ancient castle—unknown, aloof, as though eternal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the river's center floated a small skiff.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An emaciated, hollow-cheeked old angler sat aboard—far more withered by time than the Lion. Black age-spots freckled his face; a broken crown perched upon his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion strained to see—but could not make out the man's features.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tried calling to him. \"Hail. What is this place?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the elder acted as though deaf, offering no answer. Beneath the skiff, some shadow circled—coveting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion disliked being ignored. He stepped into the river to see for himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he hadn't gone far when the stench of blood and rot reached him—and a sharp cry sounded behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Danger—back to the bank!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned—and found a small hooded figure in a dark-green robe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A Watcher in the Dark—some alien thing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he saw such a being for the first time, the thought bloomed fully-formed in his mind—as though he'd always known them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion sensed danger and returned to shore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That way is not your path.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Watcher pointed at the river and waved warningly, then indicated a different tree-shaded trail. \"Go there. Follow your instincts.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion took the shaded path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But not because he obeyed the little one—he'd scented a dense reek of decay.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Prey's smell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had not gone far before the river rang with the elder's curses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He did not look back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sped along the shaded way, burst through a bright seam in the canopy, and came into the deep jungle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The jungle's breath felt right in his lungs—as though he had been born to it. He was close to the prey.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>ROAR—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Huge, dangerous, reptilian man-eaters with carrion breath bellowed. They had ringed a handful of ragged, mud-caked humans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion's hand moved by reflex—he drew the helmet from his belt and sealed it, bringing the autosenses online. Data spilled across his vision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ambient temperature, humidity, atmospheric composition, infrared, thermal overlays—and more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Threats auto-tagged—these beasts, or rather, this prey.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Die.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The giant warrior roared back—and sprang like a loosed blade. In a single shoulder-charge he hurled a two-ton predator away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It slammed into a giant trunk—spine shattered—never to rise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he drove an elbow like a piledriver, caving another abomination's malformed horned skull—brains spraying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His blows were savage—like an enraged titan-beast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the Lion halted, the heavy-armor-rending predators lay dead to a one—no survivors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He dropped from his grip the venomous scorpion-tail he'd just torn free and asked:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What is this place?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The natives stared at the three-meter giant who had appeared from nowhere—godlike in strength—their bodies shaking with fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mouths half open, they were dumbstruck—no answers came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lion realized they knew nothing. He ceased questioning—and tossed them his helmet, filthy with gore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Clean the helm. Then follow me.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was used to giving orders—to leading. These people were now his followers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no room for dissent. Only submission.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Along the way, the Lion rescued more hapless refugees—led them through jungle survival and desperate struggle—and promised he would save them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was what a leader did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, he reached a jungle settlement where people gathered—and learned this world held worse, unknown enemies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would go and deal with them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With unmatched gravitas and native lordship, he became the tribe's chief without hindrance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seated upon a wooden throne, he asked an elder who spoke Low Gothic—and learned the world's name.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was called—Kamas.\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>",2790,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.240Z",1,"novelbin.me","0d8b15ff79b38b728ff535e02f422b2301ba8713fec27fae09f438ae5e5b5d98","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-570","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-568",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]