Warhammer: Beginning with Planetary Governors

Chapter 698 Savior: Hey, Your Majesty, please don't get excited!

not long ago.

The dull thud of footsteps reverberated on the ground, producing a metallic hum that seemed to strike people's hearts.

It instilled a sense of vigilance and solemnity, as if something heavy was pressing on one's heart.

They are the Cursed Legion, the Emperor's holy army, who execute the Empire's enemies on the most dangerous battlefields in the coldest of ways.

Even if you do nothing, you will still put pressure on the life around you.

"Could it be that the Lord of the Rift has received the Emperor's forgiveness, which is why he was able to receive this favor..."

Ansermor held his breath as he faced the black-armored warrior engulfed in flames, filled with an indescribable reverence and worship.

Those holy armies are so sacred that they cannot be compared to them at all.

The black of the Holy Army armor is more like the hue of ebony, adorned with skull relics as decoration.

The helmet resembled a jagged skull, with sunken eye sockets burning with cold, cruel flames.

They have no emotions, no rationality; they are like pure fighting machines, and they will not be hindered by any enemy.

As the Cursed Legion passed by, Ansermor and the warriors of the Rift Lord knelt one after another on one knee, offering their reverence to the black-armored warriors and the human lord.

"The Lord of Rifts has brought salvation. Gather all brothers, and we will fight alongside the Holy Army."

Ansermor had never felt so at ease. With the Emperor's power descending, those strange, cunning aliens and skinners posed no threat whatsoever.

Those aliens and heretics are destined to be utterly destroyed.

The regimental commander and his company commanders were very excited:
"The direction in which the Holy Army's swords point is the direction of our attack; the enemies of the Empire that they have locked onto are our targets."

This will be the most glorious battle since the Rift Lord was created!

"Those heretics and aliens dared to wear the Skyhawk; they have blasphemed the Empire and must be brought to justice!"

Ansermor and the other warriors stood tall and proud, quickly filling the magazines of their bolters and activating the force fields of their power swords.

They will unleash unprecedented fighting power before the Holy Army and under the Emperor's gaze.

Anyone who chickens out will have to sit at the kids' table from now on!

This is a chance to fight against the Emperor's Holy Army! We can brag about this for thousands of years. Who will dare to say that the Lord of Rift is disloyal after this?
"heresy!"

Suddenly, flames erupted from the Cursed Legion's ranks, emanating inhuman psionic sounds, like the wrath of a great being.

It is also the clarion call to launch an attack.

Anselmor and the others immediately understood that the Imperial Holy Army was about to charge at the alien heretics.

They lined up in neat rows and parted to make way for the Holy Army.

At such a time, how could the Lord of Rifts dare to charge ahead of the Holy Army? That would be blasphemy.

Ansermor and his company commander gazed at the Golden Heretic Cunning and Skinner in front of the platform, their eyes filled with a longing for glory.

The fighting spirit of the Rift Lords' battle group is at its peak.

The heretical aliens in the main square are nothing more than tokens for sale; there's no need to worry about whether those heretical aliens will be enough for the Holy Army and the Rift Lords' warband to kill.

But the next moment, Ansermor and the others felt their blood run cold, and some warriors even dropped their bolt guns to the ground due to extreme fear and the collapse of their faith.

Because the Emperor's Cursed Legion's dark gun barrels were pointed at them, and the cold flames in the skull's eye sockets were filled with murderous intent!
? ? !

Your Majesty, how have we become heretics?!

Their fervor turned to despair in an instant, and the warriors on the cathedral's high platform fell silent.

Ansermor trembled, unable to believe it: "The Lord of the Rift has never betrayed the Empire, so why is the Holy Army pointing its guns at us?"

The company commanders were even more desperate:
"Could it be that the great Lord of the Rift is guilty and unforgivable?"

"We are guilty, and we can never atone for our sins!"

As a chapter of redemption, the Lords of the Rift were already filled with guilt and worked diligently.

The Cursed Legion's actions now seem more like a death sentence for them.

The Emperor was furious when he learned of the situation in the Third Diocese and the potential consequences of their rebellion.

Those heretics and rebels, misled by the Lord of Change, influenced the course of the Vigilant Star campaign, and this is unforgivable!

The Lord of Mankind arrives with the fury of the Chaos Gods and heretical rebels, and will consume all the lives on this ship that are connected to the Third Diocese.

He remained as ruthless as ever, especially when influenced by the dark energy of the warp.

Ansermor and the other warriors felt the Emperor's wrath and were filled with despair. Facing the guns of the cursed warriors, they did not even have the courage to resist or escape.

They did not want to die as rebels.

These warriors all gave up struggling and knelt on one knee before the cursed warrior burning with flames.

"By Your Majesty, we are willing to accept your judgment and end the sins of the Lord of Rift."

Anselmore said this.

If the Emperor determines that the Lord of the Rift is guilty and deserves to be executed, then they should receive that fate.

They have to accept all of this.

That's the influence of that human lord; no one can resist it.

Now, as soon as the cursed warrior pulls the trigger, these defenseless warriors will be slaughtered within seconds.

However, at the moment the execution was about to take place, a gentle spiritual energy descended upon the place, delaying the tragedy.

Something is trying to stop all of this from the dimensions of the subspace.

"Please don't get agitated, sir."

This Redemption Order remains loyal and is still a vital force for Faenes; they cannot be killed off so easily.

Ron was completely numb and appeared before the Emperor's warp avatar in psionic form.

The emperor's tyrannical personality seems to have taken the initiative, which is not a good thing; it may lead to widespread slaughter.

The Third Diocese needs to be tried, but only the upper echelons and related figures should be executed; the rest should be spared to contribute to the Empire.

Even a mosquito's leg is still meat, especially given the already limited Imperial forces in the Vigilant Star region; the Rift Lords Chapter still has value in surviving.

Moreover, aliens are rampant in the Fanes system, and the Kalozaza dynasty is at risk of rebellion; we'll need these guys to assist in defense later.

Until the arrival of the imperial army.

Moreover, as the emperor of the empire, he theoretically ruled over all humanity, and thus wiped out this entire Space Marine chapter.

What a pity!
This feeling is similar to someone taking money out of your pocket and then throwing it into the water.

So Ron stepped in to stop the enraged Tyrant Emperor, lest he mow down the Riftlords' warband.

Moreover, he himself didn't particularly like indiscriminate killing.

Although the Redemption Chapter, the Lords of the Rift, was somewhat blindly loyal and controlled by the state religion through their faith, he still did not want those loyal warriors to die.

Just get rid of those insectoid cultists and the hideous army they created using torture machines and madness potions, and that will solve the problem.

"Kid, are you trying to stop me from making this decision?"

The shadow of the tyrannical emperor loomed over him, his gaze like that of a ferocious beast from the abyss, and flames pressed down upon him directly.

He was furious, and almost no one could control him.

This being was the ruthless monarch who launched the Great Crusade back then, fighting his way from one end of the galaxy to the other.

If other Primarchs were here, they would probably have to kneel down and beg for forgiveness; no one could withstand his wrath.

This overwhelming rage was unconsciously engulfing us, and we could vaguely sense the dark power it contained.

"Yes, I will stop your decision. I am now the Emperor of the Empire and I am responsible for humanity and the Empire."

Ron did not back down in the slightest, withstanding the raging power, his tone even more resolute.

His meaning was quite clear.

Since I am the emperor of the empire, I have the final say in the affairs of the human empire. As long as it is for a legitimate reason, you, sir, cannot interfere too much.

Ron did this for a reason, and it was also for the sake of the overall situation.

Such a vast human empire, if it has two voices at the same time, will cause a lot of chaos, and the empire's turmoil over the past ten thousand years is also related to this.

He had finally managed to consolidate the power of the empire and bring the State Religion, the Mechanicus, and other forces under his command.

If the emperor can interfere in the affairs of the empire at will, chaos will inevitably follow, and the rampant faith will be even more uncontrollable.

Especially as he became increasingly confused.

After Ron finished speaking, he waited quietly for the Emperor's response.

He believed that the Emperor would make a reasonable choice instead of letting the killing continue.

No matter how much the emperor's personality changes, he is still a qualified ruler of mankind and will not use so-called authority to suppress himself.

After all, it is now the empire that needs him as its savior, not the other way around.

He felt that his relationship with the emperor was more like a partnership than one of subordination.

Initially, he hoped that after the sun exhausted its power to pull him back from Slaanesh's palace, the Emperor would protect him, and he would then rebuild the Empire for the Emperor and suppress his rampant faith energy. Otherwise, the other party would be in even more pain and in a worse state.

It's a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Now he is the Emperor of the Empire, Diablo of Chaos, the Great Four-Armed Emperor, the cunning and ferocious green-skinned Logo, the Eldar savior, and the Hive Will of Terran.

He is not subject to the control of any existence and has many paths to development.

However, he was willing to use these powers to give back to humanity, and he was determined to take the people of the Empire as the core of his power source.

No powerful entity desires to be controlled, and supreme power often sparks fierce disputes.

Even if neither side covets power and maintains a good relationship, there is still a fatal problem—

The conflict between the two sides over their respective ideologies and strategies.

That's the real, irreconcilable conflict.

Ron didn't want to end up like that with the Emperor, but fortunately, the chances of that were slim. He had already proven that the path he was on was the most suitable for the human empire.

Unless the Emperor can come up with a better solution, he will have the final say.

"Emperor of the Empire..."

The tyrannical emperor muttered the word with a strange undertone; he felt somewhat uncomfortable, even though the other party was someone he had personally crowned.

No ruler can tolerate being controlled by others, especially someone like him.

A more accurate description would be that this savior before us has openly and unequivocally taken control of the world's armies, and his authority is unstoppable.

That kid not only had to manage the empire, but also "manage" his own behavior as the Lord of Mankind. He was practically saying, "Old Deng, you better know your place. I'm not some delicate Primarch."

What ambition and domineering spirit!
"What a vicious, wicked brat!"

The tyrannical emperor took a deep breath and cursed.

But his anger was subsiding.

Isn't that the result I wanted? To bring humanity a more perfect manager, and to be able to unload that endless burden.

If that brat can't even stop himself, how can he talk about saving humanity?

Moreover, he himself was at risk of losing control at any moment, and the stronger that brat was, the more likely he was to clean up the mess he would leave behind if he lost control.

At least some of humanity can be saved and the flame of revolution can be preserved, rather than humanity being completely destroyed.

"Emperor, your view is correct. I will leave the Rift Lords Chapter behind."

The tyrant emperor looked at Ron and said in a rather serious tone.

He tacitly agreed to the savior's control over him, indicating that he would unconditionally cooperate with the other party's actions.

In this way, he, the ruler of mankind, has completely retired and become a powerful force and bulwark for the empire under his control.

"Perhaps this is the right choice. I no longer have the energy to pay attention to the situation in the galaxy and the subspace."

The tyrannical emperor thought so.

He had previously used the Cursed Legion to operate within the Empire because the Savior did not have that ability, and he had to step in himself at certain crucial moments.

However, the Savior now also possesses the same warp powers, enabling him to mobilize warp forces.

This way, I, as the Lord of Humanity, can worry less, especially since he has been sleeping for longer and more frequently lately.

"Don't worry, sir."

With your support, I am absolutely certain I can take over Vigilant Star, enabling humanity to resist the encroachment of the warp. We will use the latest Blackrock technology to repair the Golden Throne!

Ron breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this and made a confident promise.

Since the Emperor has been so supportive, I must also produce some results to make his hard work worthwhile.

At that moment, on the high platform of the cathedral, the cursed warriors received the Emperor's latest order, lifting the trial against the Lord of the Rift.

They changed their target.

Ansermor and other loyal warriors were given a chance to survive, and felt a sense of relief at having escaped death.

More importantly, they were pardoned by the great emperor.

A kind of divine psychic vision projected into the consciousness of the think tank, and the warriors' eyes welled up with fervor:

"Our Lord of the Rift has been pardoned. Our Savior, the Emperor of the Empire, pledged his loyalty to that being, and he has saved us!"

Even after the emperor changed his mind, he still expended his energy to send a message so that the warriors would know who had saved them.

This would also allow the Savior to better command the Rift Lords' warband.

Anselmore was overjoyed and excited at the words of the think tanks.

They have atoned for their sins!
That was the redemption and hope that the warband had been pursuing for thousands of years, and now it had finally come true.

Although we do not know who that savior or emperor is, he saved the warriors of the Rift Lord.

Ansemor and the other soldiers snapped out of their excitement and looked at the battlefield with some confusion.

Instead of attacking those strange and cunning creatures, the Imperial Army cooperated with them to exterminate the space undead alien skinners.

The remaining Rift Lord warriors in the square stopped attacking the Holy Army when they saw that the strange and cunning creature was not being attacked, and joined them in the fight.

Since the Imperial Holy Army did not attack the alien wearing the golden eagle armor, the alien must be a loyal being.

That might be a new type of weapon created by the Great Emperor; the Empire has a precedent of using aliens as weapons.

In short, the emperor's will is never wrong!

These troops, working together, quickly eliminated all the skinners, creating a situation of complete loyalty.

Ansemor and the other warriors were somewhat confused. They remembered that the Imperial Army had come to judge heretics. Since everyone was loyal, then who was the heretic?
In their view, the war was fought in a chaotic manner, and by the end they didn't even know who the enemy was.

bang bang bang-

Suddenly, a barrage of powerful bullet comments poured out.

After organizing their new lines, the black-armored holy army suddenly launched an attack on the penitents and redemption mechs of the Third Diocese.

One after another, twisted flesh and machines collapsed.

Ansemor and the other warriors were stunned by what they saw.

The Imperial Holy Army attacked the state religious forces that represented His faith and will—something that had never happened before.

Even during Guilliman's regency, he did not openly launch an attack on the State Army.

That's an unspoken rule of the empire.

However, the next moment, the incredible yet angry voice of Archbishop Flakeber of the Third Diocese, the great preacher, rang out:

"Your Majesty, why did you attack the Empire..."

No, I command you to stop this utterly wrong!

Flakeber did not understand this, and was even more angry, uneasy, and fearful that the Emperor was attacking his own troops.

He had long considered himself an empire, and this fear clouded his judgment, leading him to order the Rift Lord and the Crusaders to stop the Imperial Army's actions.

Flakeber regretted his words as soon as they were spoken.

That's practically the same as asking why His Majesty rebelled—definitely heretical behavior.

At this moment, Ansemor and the other warriors, as well as many members of the Crusader army, all turned to look.

His gaze was so sharp.

They've found out who the real heretics are!
Why are you all looking at me?
I...I am the great preacher, I am a faithful being, you have no right to do anything to me!

Flakeber panicked completely, staggering backward as the crowd closed in.

He was filled with extreme fear—

Oh no, I've become the only outcast in the entire room!

The archbishop, the great preacher, held his breath, estimating the distance between himself and the secret passage.

With the force field shield on the preacher, he was fully capable of withstanding the attack and entering the secret passage to escape the area.

Soon, his back slammed into the hard biomass armor, and some kind of liquid dripped onto his head.

Flakeber instinctively touched the top of his head and looked at it.

When he saw the foul-smelling saliva on his fingers, his body stiffened, and he didn't even dare to turn his head.

The archbishop realized his predicament, knew he had no way out, and was overwhelmed by immense despair.

The Emperor and some other being want to eliminate him!

Flakeber acted immediately, kneeling down with a thud, his words filled with remorse and obedience.

He decisively threw out his only bargaining chip:
"The Emperor and other unfamiliar beings—I am willing to help the Empire reclaim the power of the Third Diocese and offer all its hidden treasures."

The treasure contains numerous relics from the Dark Ages and alien artifacts; its location is known only to myself.

I only ask for a sliver of forgiveness…

(End of this chapter)