Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 294 - 295 - Fall Back, This Battle Is Now Under the Control of the Redemption Titans!

Chapter 294 - 295 - Fall Back, This Battle Is Now Under the Control of the Redemption Titans!

Agri-world — Trenn. Chaos-contaminated region.

The once-fertile fields were now wilting, losing all vitality, becoming cracked and barren.

Golden wheat stalks had twisted into something sharp and menacing, swaying in the wind not with gentle rustling, but shrill, piercing wails—

As if crying out the pain and despair of the land itself.

At the edge of this corrupted field, agri-workers stood gazing ahead, eyes filled with hope and desperation.

They crossed their hands over their chests and prayed softly:

"O crimson and sacred angels, we beg you—use your infinite mercy and might to slay the terrible daemon and purify this land..."

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM—

Through the distorted wheat fields, dozens of crimson-armored figures marched steadily, completely ignoring the scythe-like mutated stalks.

Their bolt rifles fired in precise bursts, shredding the twisted horrors charging at them.

"Eyes up. We're nearing the target."

The War Angels' Chapter Master, Duke, glanced down at his auspex and warned those around him.

He led dozens of Terminator-armored warriors into this remote star system to hunt the powerful daemon rampaging here.

As soon as the words left his mouth—

ROOOAAR—

An illusory barrier shattered, revealing a mountain of corpses—made of stalks and flesh—rising from the earth, swarming with clawed, mummified horrors.

And atop that grotesque pile squatted a bloated, malformed daemon.

It looked down at Duke and the others, its gaping maw stuffed with wheat and jagged fangs, twisting into a chilling grin:

"Outsiders... your presence here is a mistake. You disturb the serenity of this land. You have offended the divine. You will be buried here."

The daemon hurled itself from the corpse mound and sent waves of dry, corpse-like creatures charging the warriors.

"Brothers—engage."

Duke gave the command calmly.

He gripped his thunder hammer tight, and a surge of psychic lightning wrapped around it, cracking the air with blinding sparks.

The Terminators switched to thunder hammers, psychic energy pulsing from their weapons—they all possessed impressive psychic strength.

Under Duke's lead, the Terminators surged forward, sprinting toward the incoming daemon horde, their psychic power charging.

ZRAK—!

With a mighty swing of a thunder hammer, a blast of psychic lightning erupted, incinerating hordes of abominations.

"Die, heretic!"

Duke ignored the withered corpses.

He dashed forward, leaping high above the swarming horde, swinging his hammer straight at the daemon.

A burst of dazzling psychic light turned everything to white.

...

Edge of the corrupted zone.

"O holy angel, mighty angel..."

The agri-workers, witnessing the radiant explosion, dropped to their knees in worship, their prayers growing more fervent.

"Ughh..."

Around the corpse mound, scorched and twisted bodies lay everywhere.

The monstrous daemon had lost half its body, writhing on the ground in agony, groaning pitifully.

Its eyes were filled with fear, but also stubbornness. It whimpered:

"That great being foretold... that once I became a god, this land would flourish, rains would return, and drought would flee.

The ritual was almost complete! That was our only hope—I beg you..."

Duke raised a hand to silence it, then activated an important transmission from the Imperial Court.

After listening, he looked to his fellow Terminators:

"Order from the Savior himself. We're to return."

Duke and the Terminators turned to leave.

The grotesque daemon's expression relaxed, thinking it had been spared.

But in the very next second—

BOOM—

A scorching radiothermal melt bomb detonated, reducing the creature to ash.

Not long after, several aircraft lifted into the skies under the grateful gazes of the agri-workers and streaked toward the atmosphere.

The crimson angels departed the agri-world.

But this was far from over. Reports had already been filed.

Soon, agri-engineering teams would arrive to rebuild the world, freeing it from the endless plagues...

...

Garden World — Raeda.

A paradise world, known across the stars, with thousands of golden islands scattered across warm turquoise shallows.

The climate and environment were perfect for easing the mind and healing emotional wounds.

Shell Island.

Sunlight bathed the white sands, waves lapping gently at the shore, revealing gleaming shells beneath the surface.

Beneath the dappled shade of pale green palm trees, Supreme Commander Duke of the Storm Corps lay sunbathing with his guards.

He downed a bottle of crystal-clear liquor and cursed with a grin, "Damn, why is this booze so damn good?!"

Everything here seemed perfect.

But not far away, clouds of smoke, massive mechanical wreckage, and floating alien corpse-horrors on the sea marred the peace.

This was just a moment of leisure after a brutal war.

A highly advanced xeno civilization had invaded this paradise with massive war engines, slaughtering the people.

Thankfully, the Savior's warriors exterminated them completely.

And this rare paradise world would now become an affiliated world of the Savior's domain.

A place of rest for the loyal, the brave, and the hardworking.

The local governor bent over backward to entertain the warriors who had saved them, afraid to show even a moment of laxity.

Now, the galaxy had changed.

Danger lurked everywhere. They had to seek protection if they wanted to safeguard the billions of lives on this world.

Suddenly—CRACK! The bottle shattered, startling the governor.

"Commander Duke, what's wrong?!"

Duke scratched his head. "Ah, damn... Sorry, not your fault. This place is great, but we've gotta go..."

He jumped up and kicked his dozing honor guard awake. "Get up, you bastards!"

The warriors sprang into action, hands reaching for weapons.

"Boss, what's happening?"

Duke smirked. "We got a job. Time to crush some heretical xeno bastards!"

Though Supreme Commander of the Storm Corps, Duke rarely dealt in strategy.

He was more of a figurehead who loved leading his elite guards at the frontlines.

Soon, Duke led his men out of the bay.

In the distance, nearly a hundred bronze-gold Knight suits stood, overlooking the shore...

The stars glittered.

A massive cruiser floated silently, its dark green hull marked with the symbol of a skull entwined with constellations.

On the open deck,

The air was thick with smoke and excitement.

"Yo—oh great and holy Savior!"

An anthem rang out—sacred, fiery, and oddly... rock-themed. It made the atmosphere even hotter.

Of course, this was an approved track—an exclusive version made by the Sons of Humanity Chapter.

Today, the Savior's anthem had many variations: from holy hymns to educational nursery rhymes.

But all had to be approved by the Ecclesiarchy.

Otherwise? Expect the Inquisition to pay a visit.

That the Sons of Humanity's version passed review likely meant they'd bribed the Savior.

Big Barrel swayed to the beat, wearing an apron and stoking the flames.

He flipped the wok.

Strange meat sizzled in the pot, screaming, belching clouds of toxic purple gas.

COUGH COUGH!

Caught off guard, Big Barrel inhaled a full blast.

His face turned purple as he hacked. "Ugh! That's the good stuff. Gotta save a bite for the Savior..."

In seconds, his complexion returned to normal.

The Sons of Humanity's Space Marines had exceptional toxin resistance and digestion, and they were master chefs.

Top-tier culinary talents of the void.

The smoke on the deck thickened.

These rotund Marines were all wielding various cooking tools, preparing all kinds of exotic ingredients—

Including tissues harvested from xenos, and even slicing up mutated worm sashimi.

They ate wherever they went—a unique way to grow stronger.

One-fifth of their mothership was dedicated to food storage.

"Hold up!"

Big Barrel tore off his apron and called for silence.

"What is it, Barrel-bro?"

A Marine, mouth stuffed with twitching tentacles, mumbled.

"The Savior's issued a decree. Looks like we're being called to war..."

Big Barrel hesitated.

The Sons of Humanity were an autonomous mini-Chapter, free to move as they pleased.

Only when the domain was under attack or the threat was critical were they forced to act.

This decree was more of a request—for idle forces to return if possible.

"We might not have time to return..."

One Marine swallowed and looked at his scanner. "Big one just passed our detection perimeter. Real close..."

"No need to scan—we all see it."

They turned their eyes to the stars.

A massive fleshy, octopus-like creature—several times bigger than their mothership—drifted past, surrounded by guardian beasts.

It was...

A Tyranid Hive Fleet!

Anyone skilled in reading star charts would realize—its route would take it through the Baal System.

WEEE-OOM—

The Sons of Humanity's void shields raised, warp engines roaring.

Several escorting Bio-ships had detached and were closing in, clearly trying to eliminate the threat.

"Commander, what now?"

Big Barrel scoffed, exasperated:

"Grab some bug meat and RUN. Run as far as you damn can!"

...

Blackstone Gate. Voidspace.

SHOOOM. SHOOOM. SHOOOM—

A massive fleet exited the warp, filling the void like a curtain of steel.

Within half a day, under Admiral Kaes' command, the ships formed up and entered the network gate.

Inside the Holy Spire,

Golden light bathed the halls. Tech-priests chanted binary hymns as they pressed the sigils of the Machine-Goddess onto sacred ash rounds.

Mechanical arms gently placed the priceless relics into black coffers.

They would be shipped to the frontlines to serve their divine purpose.

From the high balcony of the spire, Eden watched as his grand army assembled and deployed to the Charadon battlefield.

This war had mobilized nearly every force.

Major combat assets included:

Over six hundred capital ships with their escorts; fifty Emperor-class Titans and over three hundred Warlord-class Titans; more than two thousand Knight suits.

Multiple Storm Corps armored divisions.

Thirty thousand Void Angels and War Angels, as well as a thousand Thunder Wardens.

The great Savior, the Devourer of Daemons himself, and his sacred ash rounds.

The Battle of Charadon was technically only a sector-scale conflict—honestly, this force was overkill.

But their opponent was a daemon prince favored by all four Chaos Gods.

What if Abaddon or other powerful chaos forces decided to show up?

Better safe than sorry.

Eden frowned slightly with concern.

If time allowed, he'd have summoned even more troops.

But now, the arrow was nocked—the battle inevitable.

He turned and entered a weapon chamber hidden within his chambers.

Over the years, he'd developed some personal armaments—particularly a new armor with advanced tech.

Before long—

Eden emerged from another corridor, clad in the fearsome Devourer of Daemons armor.

Against daemons, this "Daemon Slayer" suit was the most appropriate choice.

Soon, he boarded his dropship and launched into space.

The Savior would descend upon Charadon's battlefield—to face the daemon prince in final combat!

...

Deep within Charadon.

Dark Domain.

Kolvax, a shattered star lingering between the Warp and realspace, shimmered in and out of perception.

At the heart of the planet, atop the throne within a fortress-city—

"It seems... I overestimated my opponent."

Bileak scanned the strategic map, voice tinged with irritation and disdain.

According to intelligence, the Devourer's fleet had arrived in the Charadon region. Perhaps such a fleet could rampage through some sub-sectors.

But to the Dark Lord, that fleet was nothing—barely one-tenth the strength of his own armada.

A pitiful, insignificant force... and yet it had forced him to take such elaborate measures.

The arrogant Dark Lord found that humiliating.

His patience had run thin.

With a sharp motion, Bileak stabbed a clawed finger into the sand model, bursting the orb representing Tskamelo.

At the same time, he issued orders to the Chaos forces stationed there.

They were to annihilate Tskamelo, crushing the fortress and all who dwelled in it—especially that merchant of the Emperor's blood.

A little "gift" to welcome the incoming Devourer.

As for that pitiful fleet?

He had dispatched a force three times its size to obliterate it.

The Dark Lord loved the feeling of absolute dominance—he would show the arrogant Devourer the true gap between them.

...

Tskamelo. Queen's Fortress.

The scorched, war-torn land echoed with terrifying roars that pierced every corner of the defense line and rang in every soldier's ears.

It wasn't just noise—it was death's herald.

A new wave of attacks was imminent.

From thick black smoke emerged more abominations and daemon engines, surging like a tidal wave.

Twisted, corrupted forms marched forward, casting a suffocating silence over the weary defenders.

They had barely enough ammunition left to endure one more assault.

Food and medicine were long depleted.

The garrison was deep in exhaustion and hunger.

"Blades of Freedom, never yield!"

The Raven family's dozen or so Knight suits still stood with unwavering resolve.

They launched the first counterattack against the oncoming daemon engines.

Over the comms, a commander's hoarse voice shouted:

"Hold the line, warriors! Reinforcements from the Holy World are almost here!"

No one knew if it was a lie.

But even the tiniest glimmer of hope rekindled the defenders' fighting spirit.

Whether reinforcements came or not—they would fight.

At the very least, they would take as many abominations with them as possible before they fell.

With death in their hearts, the Knights surged with incredible strength—unstoppable, they tore down the daemon engines.

Inspired by this bold offensive, the defenders held the line and repelled another Chaos assault.

But before the cheers of victory could even begin—

A Chaos Knight emerged from the black mist.

A twisted abomination of the Carrion family, its entire body engulfed in heavy mutation, larger even than the Raven family's suits.

"Traitors from the Carrion family!"

Upon seeing the Chaos Knight—

The Knights of the Blades of Freedom could not contain their rage.

It was these very traitors who had attacked Kloroshi, costing them their homeworld!

"Traitors!"

One of the closest Knights charged, engine roaring, straight at the Chaos Knight.

The collision between the two was cataclysmic.

Their chainblade swords clashed violently, shattering the nearby defense structures and sending sparks flying.

In just seconds—

The Blades of Freedom Knight sacrificed an arm but managed to dismember and kill the Chaos Knight.

ZZRAK—

Before it could steady itself, another power claw slashed from the mist, tearing off its remaining arm.

A new Chaos Knight had arrived...

"Bastard!"

Seeing this, one of the Blades of Freedom Knights tried to charge to help, but was stopped by their captain.

His voice trembled:

"Pilot, hold your position—there are more Chaos Knights behind them!"

In their sight—

The black mist thinned, revealing over sixty Chaos war machines advancing.

They loomed over the trench line.

"Fools of the Raven family, you can't stop the might of the Carrion Knights!"

The Chaos Knight with the power claw sneered.

Right before everyone's eyes, it tore open the fallen Knight's cockpit, impaling the pilot on its claw.

And threw the mutilated corpse before the others.

The horrifying scene filled everyone in Queen's Fortress with dread and despair.

Hope... was gone.

They could no longer imagine how such terrifying enemies could be defeated.

On the fortress balcony.

The Queen nearly couldn't bear to look at the machines. Her voice trembled:

"M-Mr. Shahim... what should we do? The Savior... he'll come to save us, right?"

It was as if she was clinging to a hopeless dream... and yet sensing something amid the chaos, she muttered, more firm this time:

"I believe—he will come to save me!"

Shahim looked up toward the sky.

"Your Majesty... your feeling is right. Reinforcements have arrived."

Outside the atmosphere, a fleet appeared on the radar.

On the battlefield.

As the ground trembled faintly, the sixty-plus Chaos Knights marched forward, unstoppable.

This horde alone would be a devastating force in any war.

The Chaos Knights walked without hesitation, prepared to annihilate everything and tear every living being to shreds.

The Blades of Freedom took a half-step back.

But they quickly pushed down their fear and stood firm.

They had retreated once before—and it had cost them their homeworld.

This time... there could be no retreat.

"We no longer fear Chaos—fight to the death!"

The Blades of Freedom recited their sacred oath, ready to meet death head-on.

Suddenly, the Chaos Knights seemed to notice something.

They looked up.

Streaks of fire descended from the sky, slamming down behind the Blades of Freedom.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM—

Light flashed.

Those weren't weapons—but Eldar-tech teleport beacons!

Spatial ripples erupted.

A phantom-like portal burst open.

BOOM!

Giant mechanical legs stepped forth, shaking the earth.

Five Emperor-class Titans emerged, their towering forms drawing every gaze on the battlefield.

The hundred-meter-tall god-engines passed above the Knights of the Blades of Freedom, their deep electronic voices resonating:

"Stand down. This battle is now under the control of the Redemption Titans."

(End of Chapter)

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