[{"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-603":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},1681494,2147,"Chapter 603 - 604 — The Savior: Which little genius expects me to lug the Golden Throne and the Emperor’s bones into battle?!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-603",603,"\u003Cp>\"The Armor of Redemption cost us a fortune. We must finish forging it on schedule…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden stared at the holo-link, nerves tight as a bowstring.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no helping it. The Emperor's corruption kept deepening; He could no longer wield His full might with impunity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise, one especially vicious fight might just crack the Golden Throne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That golden commode is one of the most critical defensive lines in the entire galaxy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If it actually collapsed, the splash zone would be… extensive. Even the Chaos Gods wouldn't be spared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unless it truly came to the Imperium's last stand, the Emperor would not risk using His power to intervene personally in galactic warfare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But without the Emperor's help, it was hard for the Imperium to counter the Chaos Gods' might, and their odds of victory plummeted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Given that, Eden chose a compromise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would draw upon the Sacred Sun, bolster the inner warp-sun of his essence, then project it into realspace—and use the Emperor as a living power bank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That way, he wouldn't be ground into the dust by the baleful energies the Chaos Gods projected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But channeling the Sacred Sun into realspace wasn't easy. Besides his own inner sun, he needed an external medium.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hence the Armor of Redemption—fitted with a Warp Extraction Engine, and forged using the Emperor's ashes as material.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, this had the Emperor's consent. He didn't object, which amounted to approval.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still, for the Imperium at large, this was blasphemous and heretical in the extreme. Best done quietly, not trumpeted abroad.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We can't keep shaving more off, or the Custodians won't stand for it…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden sighed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tech-priests harvesting 'materials' had practically pared the Emperor down to the bone, taking ribs and other tissues besides.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Lord Commander of the Custodian Guard and the Throne guardians who witnessed it nearly fainted from grief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And all that for barely forty catties of sacred remains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Take much more and the Emperor's holy bones would barely resemble a person. It'd be a cosmic joke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How would that be any different from hoisting the Emperor out as a literal meat-shield?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden grimaced, then steeled himself. \"For Humanity and the Imperium, we'll have to wrong you a little, Your Majesty.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the sacred bone-powder still wasn't enough, then better to do it in one go—harvest a bit more at once, then fit a mold to disguise the loss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That way, when Primarchs and other high personages came to the Throne for audience, it wouldn't look so shabby. Dress it up with better lighting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the Emperor's undying nature, as long as some tissue remained, there was a fair chance He could be restored someday.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In fact, even his own body—if he lost an arm or a leg—would slowly regrow over time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just avoid plasma and melta. Then it's mostly fine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Archmagos Belisarius Cawl, seeing the Savior's expression cloud, hurried to report:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Machine-Goddess, the sacred bone-powder is sufficient. We are, however, short 9.8% of Blackstone. Otherwise the Armor of Redemption's silhouette won't meet your desired level of 'imposing,' Your Majesty.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"So it's Blackstone we lack? That's fine. Tear some from anywhere you like—just don't touch the core nexus.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden exhaled in relief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As long as it wasn't sacred bone-powder. Many structures and facilities in his domains used Blackstone. Borrowing a bit was manageable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides, by Cawl's account, the Armor of Redemption was already functional; the outer plates merely needed decorative finishing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the personal panoply of the Emperor of the Imperium, it couldn't look cheap. Appearances drive awe—and morale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hold up. What in the warp is that?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the Archmagos moved, Eden glanced up at the chest of the armor—and went numb.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cawl followed his gaze and intoned devoutly,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Machine-Goddess. That is our proudest reliquary adornment. It will strike endless terror into the foe on any battlefield!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I can see it's an adornment. But to replicate that reliquary—don't you think it's a bit…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden's brows knotted. He couldn't even find words for the sheer audacity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The armor's breastplate was hollowed into a brutal golden mechanism. At its heart crouched a most intimidating figure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Throne's sake—an almost one-to-one Golden Throne with the Emperor's skull and bones?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That giant reliquary might even include actual imperial relics mixed in. It could pass for the real thing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Emperor's imperious seated posture, the skull's empty sockets casting an all-seeing glare—as if He looked down on every living thing ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shock value was undeniable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Tell me—whose 'little genius' idea was this?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden asked, half helpless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperium did have a tradition of mounting bones upon armour and shields as relics. But that was the Emperor. This felt… disrespectful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Effective? Oh, absolutely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But wasn't he asking for trouble—especially if he ran into the Emperor's harsher moods later? He'd get thrashed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Majesty the Savior, this design was derived from calculations by the Machine-Goddess herself as the optimal solution for maximum intimidation.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cawl straightened, brimming with pride.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Mm…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden propped his chin, mood notably improved. \"If it's Webby's design, then splendid. Proceed. Make it as imposing as possible.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If others did such a thing it would be risky. But if it came from his dearest 'little cotton-padded jacket,' the Machine-Goddess Webby—then no problem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Emperor doted on Webby more than anyone. As long as she didn't dismantle the Throne outright, He'd hardly get angry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Webby as his pretext, Eden's shameless dad-courage doubled. Let the cog-boys go wild.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The more realistic, the more terrifying—the better.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He really would be carrying the Golden Throne—and the Emperor's bones—into battle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a reliquary that outrageous, wouldn't the Chaos Daemons piss themselves on sight?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the sacred psychic energies would conduct better through it. After he culled a mountain of abominations, the Emperor might even be pleased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indirect kills still count.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Finish the Armor of Redemption,\" Eden ordered after absorbing the details. \"Deliver it to the Vostonia war-theatre within ten Terran days—no later.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn't wait to don that absurdly explosive panoply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brother, what's that?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At some point, Roboute Guilliman had wandered over, curiosity piqued.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn't heard the conversation, but the holo had shown a hulking, shadowed engine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"A secret weapon. You'll see.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden casually cut the link and gave a smile that revealed exactly nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Revealing it now would only invite bickering and hassle. Better to unveil it amid the gunsmoke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing his brother unwilling to share, Guilliman didn't press. Still, his mood brightened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The more weapons the Savior prepared, the higher their odds, and the fewer the dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Undeniably a good thing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just then, above the warehouse dome, the void shuddered. Ships slammed out of the warp one after another.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A vast fleet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Khan's here too. Time we planned the operation.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's gaze found the White Scars' flagship on the far side—the New Swordstorm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During the Horus Heresy, the White Scars' Gloriana-class flagship, the Swordstorm, had been used as bait to trap the fallen Primarch Mortarion and scuttled by overloading its engines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unfortunately, at the last moment, the void shields failed—and Mortarion escaped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For a long time afterward, the White Scars had no flagship of their own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This new flagship—a Gloriana-class battleship—had been a gift from their newly adopted father, the Hope-Primarch, the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden hadn't really wanted to give it away. But the yearning in his sons' eyes had made him wave the matter off as a trifle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Flesh and blood stay in the family pot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such extravagant largesse only deepened the White Scars' devotion to the Savior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the Khan himself had nearly blurted out \"father\" to his dearest brother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman stared at the White Scars' gleaming flagship, silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some faint jealousy pinched his heart. His best brother had never gifted him such an heirloom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn't the value of a Gloriana that gnawed at him, but what it symbolized—brotherhood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Surely his bond with the Savior ran deeper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He did not know—it symbolized father and sons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What are you looking at, Old Roboute? We've a war-room to attend.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden clapped a big hand on his brother's shoulder and strode out of the warehouse district.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guilliman tore his eyes from the starship and followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dreamweaver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small operations chamber.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A starchart of the Vostonia Pan-Sector hung in the air, nearly all of it raging red—its heart marred by a striped, dark-crimson scar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The foe had infested the entire region.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>World after civilized world was being fed into the furnace of annihilation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This is the field we face. A Chaos rift spans the sector, covering almost every civilized world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Those worlds form a monstrous ritual array.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If we fail to retake them and shatter the array, the rift will keep swelling—spilling into ever more of the Nebulous Region.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And our Old One artifact will be utterly destroyed!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's face was iron as he studied the chart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That rift was essentially a mega-portal—an endless pipeline for Chaos hosts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had to be contained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He zoomed the map, pointing to a ring of dark red on the Vostonian outskirts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Chaos powers have already eroded the rim and keep pressing in. The rift is on the cusp of its final phase.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Soon it will become a stabilized conduit for the Dark Gods' power. We must seal the rim and break the array before the rift completes.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Can the Lion still hold? Won't the outer worlds of Vostonia be doomed?\" the Khan asked, frowning at the display.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the look of it, Vostonia's garrisons couldn't even blunt the Chaos vanguard. It looked like a rout.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Lion perished under that avalanche of abominations, the Imperium would suffer a grievous wound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Imperium can't afford to lose another Primarch,\" Guilliman murmured.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether for love or for the Imperium, he wanted the Lion alive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But men are not daemons—and this was realspace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even a Primarch could not stem an endless tide forever. Fatigue would win eventually.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"For now, the Lion will endure,\" Eden said, catching the doubt in his brothers' eyes. He elaborated:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I've dispatched special vanguards into Vostonia. They should sow chaos and buy us time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Beyond that, no promises. The enemy's numbers swell by the hour—vaster than ever before.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He highlighted several mustering zones, and both Primarchs blinked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The Terror Legion, Ork greenskins, Tyranid fleets, the Drukhari, and the Necrons—these are our vanguards?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Strictly speaking, they aren't ours. But the enemy of my enemy…\" Eden spread his hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They weren't his armies—at least not all of them. Half were Humanity's foes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Terror Legion were the exception—he'd sent them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who worshipped his darker persona—Diablo the Destroyer—loved war, slaughter, and the manufacture of fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even without orders, they'd have run here on their own, hot-blooded counterparts to Khorne's slaughter-cultists.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Where there's war, there they are—happy to pay for the privilege of hacking apart xenos and heretics.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the Orks—besides his own Ironfang empire, two or three other big empires were involved.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why had they shown up? Because his Ironfangs had set up a massive waaagh! grudge-match with them—to decide once and for all which boss, Rog, Gog, or Mog, was strongest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The chosen venue? The Vostonia Pan-Sector. Once they arrived they naturally collided with the daemons—and started krumpin'.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tyranids came thanks to his handiwork—a warp beacon cobbled from carrion of the sly Chigei splinter and the wreckage of Hive Fleet Leviathan, which lured in a Hydra splinter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That Hydra splinter bred at insane speed—and fed upon the carcasses of other hive fleets to evolve.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The remains of Leviathan defeated by Humanity made for a delicious inheritance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hydra raced to Vostonia—and dropped straight into a Chaos hornet's nest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rift interference would foul their course, too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To devour the planetary wreckage, Hydra would inevitably clash with the daemons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Drukhari—heirs to a fallen galactic hegemony—came to poach Tyranid ova and specimens.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They meant to breed stronger Tyranid gladiators.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They'd taken their Pokémon-style pit-beast obsession to pathological extremes; some had even weaned themselves off soul-elixirs for a time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hardened as they were, they'd still be able to blunt Chaos incursions on the edges of several worlds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Necrons? Even Eden was surprised.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd made no arrangements there—and couldn't order those ancient tyrants of the stars around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most likely, a tomb world under Vostonia had stirred at the rift's disturbance and started its harvest. Then the metal legions rose—and joined the opening brawl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was the galaxy's normal. Nothing strange.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, they'd ruled the stars. Their tomb worlds were like cockroach nests—one might pop out anywhere, anytime—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and then an army of living metal would scuttle out to rampage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Shame. Even with all those xenos and heretics, it's not enough. They can't stop the united Chaos host—won't even last long.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden's tone was rueful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At best, those disparate forces would clog the Chaos advance for a while.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the main body of the united host arrived, the distraction would end.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For victory, he would rely on the armies of the Imperium.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A steel deluge to drown the abominations of Chaos.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the scattered warbands massing in the outer dark, he ignored them. Against this armada, they were gnats.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He marked more than a dozen axes of advance across the entire Vostonia Pan-Sector.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Three days from now, our assembled hosts will make translation to the Vostonian rim and form a ring, pressing inward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You two will remain aboard the Dreamweaver with me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We'll form a strike group to spear the Chaos core—and meet whatever nameless horror waits within.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strike group he spoke of was the First Redemption Fleet—a mass of warships and warriors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three Primarchs. Three thousand Custodians. One hundred thousand Space Marines. A million powered-armour troopers. Titan and Knight households.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Plus several Void Whale-class carriers packed with long-range automata and swarms of servo-drones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Independent of the larger host, the strike group—led by the Emperor of the Imperium, the Hope-Primarch, the Savior—would maneuver inside the encirclement, piercing through to the enemy's heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And deal a killing blow to the united Chaos host.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Our musters are nearly complete. Departure will follow shortly.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even as he spoke, the void outside rippled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eden flicked the starchart off and irised open the war-room dome. Triple suns flooded the chamber with harsh light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bright enough to sting the eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whoom-whoom-whoom—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Star-cold flashes pebbled the dark as fleet after fleet tore out of the warp into the battlespace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They massed around the Dreamweaver, line upon line disappearing to the edge of sight—seemingly endless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gradually, the chamber dimmed—not just here, but across the system.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Starlight surrendered to the cold gleam of void-ships…\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>",2432,"2026-06-06T13:29:21.401Z",1,"novelbin.me","3d6b863f3f03123d0560287539228a0ef2adaa3e8a0a58be66dec9ea72f1fb68","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-604","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-602",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]