Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor Chapter 375 376: Three Buckets: Wait, is this still Baal?!

Three days later.

Beneath Baal, in a cavern.

As the distant surface tremors gradually faded, the falling debris within the fissures ceased, and a fleeting stillness returned to the surroundings.

Zzzzt~

The chanical lamp flickered and dimd significantly.

That signified that the last traces of energy in this cavern were about to be depleted, plunging this refuge into darkness.

Three Buckets glanced at the chanical lamp but didn't pay much attention to it. Even without a light source, these gene-enhanced warriors could still see clearly in the darkness.

It just wasn't as comfortable, that's all.

Besides, the Sons of Man would soon leave this place to face the Tyranid xenos and engage in the final battle.

The fire crackled back to life.

Having gone without sustenance for so long, the Sons of Man's stomachs were already growling with hunger, and their gazes toward the Chapter Master were filled with anticipation.

Because he still held the last reserves of at.

"By the Emperor, let us enjoy a proper feast at least once!"

Under the ravenous gazes of the warriors, Three Buckets carefully retrieved several large cans of Ant-Cattle at from a pile of stones nearby.

These Ant-Cattle cans, discovered in the ship's storage, had long since expired.

Given the Imperium's notoriously poor industrial practices, these cans—whose contents could not be guaranteed as sterilized—had very likely beco hazardous materials, potentially unable to contain whatever was inside.

But he hadn't had the heart to throw them away.

The Sons of Man always cherished food, and of course, there was the thought of tossing them as weapons in a pinch.

These things packed a punch when used against bugs—comparable to fragntation grenades in power, and even more effective against flesh-based creatures.

That's because unsterilized Ant-Cattle cans often contained live Ant-Cattle larvae.

These larvae were known as "Burrow-Maggots", ferocious predators of shocking ferocity.

Driven by insatiable hunger, Ant-Cattle larvae could devour nearly anything—be it energy radiation or the flesh of other creatures.

The adults, with their massive mandibles and four-legged, upright bodies resembling giant ants, reached heights of over four ters, almost as tall as a Dreadnought.

Their raw physical power alone could punch through a landing craft's hull.

Even more terrifying, they could eat virtually anything, including the plasma unleashed by plasma grenades, and their resilient reproductive capabilities had allowed them to spread across dozens of worlds.

If not for their lack of intelligence and tendency to avoid swarming, they would have been far more fearso than the Tyranid xenos.

And so they had been relegated to human livestock—beasts raised for consumption.

Three Buckets didn't dare open these Ant-Cattle cans directly. Instead, he threw them into the fire to roast, hoping to kill off any lurking Ant-Cattle larvae.

It would take several hours of burning to neutralize these larvae.

Of course, according to the Imperium's Ant-Cattle consumption guidelines, proper sterilization required continuous cooking for four days straight to ensure safe consumption.

But the stomachs of Astartes were far more formidable. They could handle unsterilized Ant-Cattle at without much issue—even if they couldn't fully digest it, they could expel it quickly.

There would be no risk of infestation.

An hour passed.

The Sons of Man continued to endure their hunger, huddled around the fire, waiting for alti.

Suddenly, a one-eyed warrior noticed sothing odd. "This isn't good… that can just moved!"

"You're right—it definitely moved. And not just that one. They're all moving. Everyone, stay alert..."

Three Buckets nodded solemnly and drew his monomolecular combat blade. "Don't let these delicacies escape!"

The Sons of Man swallowed hard, standing up and drawing their blades, taking up battle stances.

They hadn't had a proper al in days. At this point, even a live Ant-Cattle larva would be devoured whole!

The cans in the fire visibly trembled, and amidst a grating screech, a multitude of larvae with terrifying mandibles burst through the cans.

The Sons of Man's food… was screaming!

However, those ravenous Ant-Cattle larvae froze the mont they sensed sothing more terrifying.

Click—

The chanical lamp went out, plunging the cavern into dim darkness.

"Quick, eat them!"

Before the light fully died, the Sons of Man had already roared and lunged at the Ant-Cattle larvae, like starving wolves descending on prey.

The battle between food and food had begun—but the Sons of Man clearly held the upper hand.

Three Buckets skewered an Ant-Cattle larva with his monomolecular blade and stuffed it into his mouth. Its tail still thrashed violently, but it was too late—it was crunched down with a loud snap.

Before long, the warriors, who had finally tasted the sweetness of fresh at, lay sprawled against the cavern walls, savoring their al.

Once they had recovered so strength, they silently rose to their feet, gathered their equipnt, and prepared to leave.

Led by Three Buckets, they began climbing through the narrow passage toward the surface.

"Sigh... I'm still so hungry..."

One warrior muttered gloomily. For the Sons of Man, hunger was a tornt worse than death itself.

Three Buckets didn't mock them as he usually did, calling them gluttons—he was starving too, his stomach burning with hunger.

If possible, he'd have devoured an entire Ant-Cattle right then and there.

The Chapter Master climbed in silence, uncharacteristically somber. Perhaps the Sons of Man would perish in hunger.

For they were headed to the surface, where they would confront the Tyranid xenos.

He decided that before he died, he would eat as much Tyranid flesh as he could—at the very least, he'd die on a full stomach.

Suddenly, Three Buckets pondered a new question.

Once he returned to the Golden Throne, would there be food to eat?

...

Baal Surface, High Tower Garden District.

This expansive garden had just been completed yesterday. It featured a variety of trees, greenery, streams, and wildlife.

It was a complete natural ecosystem.

On a desert world like Baal, lacking in water, this was an incredibly rare and precious sight—an extravagance not even Holy Terra could afford.

In the distance, the High Tower area was still under construction. Massive machinery was assembling the tower's foundations, and key chanical components would be shipped from the Savior's domain for final assembly.

Once completed, this grand, sacred tower would shine amidst the garden and religious structures, radiating a golden holy light.

It would beco Baal's new sacred landmark.

The green spaces within the garden buzzed with activity. Workers moved back and forth, and assault ships in the sky delivered more materials for the upcoming event.

All of this was because the Savior had arrived here.

Eden, on a whim, had co to personally oversee the construction of the Holy Tower, and many Chapter Masters had followed him—forming a mighty entourage.

"Savior, building such a Holy Tower must be no easy feat, right?"

The Lord Commander of the Custodians, Lycias, gazed at the distant tower under construction, his eyes showing a hint of envy.

He already understood the purpose and sanctity of the tower and yearned to bask in its holy radiance.

Eden glanced at Lycias. "What, you want a Holy Tower of your own?"

It was obvious that this Lord Commander of the Custodians was quite taken with the concept of the giant golden beacon.

"Yes. Would you be willing to help us build such a sacred monunt?"

Lycias spoke with a hint of entreaty. "We're willing to shoulder additional costs and provide suitable compensation."

"These structures are incredibly expensive," Eden reminded him. "Even we can't afford to build many..."

In his mind, the Imperial Palace was already the most fortified, powerful place in the galaxy. Building more towers there seed unnecessary.

Those materials would be better used on other planets that needed them more.

Besides, several areas within the Savior's domain were still waiting for the protection of a Holy Tower.

Yet, when he saw the look of disappointnt in Lycias' eyes, Eden felt a twinge of sympathy. They were like brothers now, after all—and gifting them one tower wouldn't hurt.

Let them have it as a keepsake.

After all, the lives of these Custodians revolved entirely around loyalty to the Emperor. They had nothing else.

Moreover, the golden sun atop the tower, along with the Savior's statues and sigils, would serve as constant reminders of the Savior—another form of faith accumulation.

"In light of our friendship, I can..."

As Eden spoke, he held up a finger, indicating that he could gift them a Holy Tower for free.

But before he could finish, the Custodian Lord Commander cut in with an earnest tone:

"Savior, building a Holy Tower is no easy task. We are willing to pay ten tis the usual price."

Ahem—

Eden was montarily choked up, but quickly recovered and agreed.

He had almost forgotten that these Custodians were so of the galaxy's wealthiest elites, enjoying virtually unlimited Imperial resources—practically walking piggy banks.

No need to be polite with such wealthy clients. Not making money off them would be foolish—and they'd probably thank him afterward.

With this arrangent, the extra resources and materials could be used to build more Holy Towers elsewhere, accelerating the overall project to spread the towers across all worlds.

Let the Holy Towers cover every planet.

"Make the arrangents! It must be done imdiately!"

Eden swiftly contacted the head of the chanicum's construction division, ordering him to dispatch an engineering team at the fastest possible speed to Holy Terra.

They were to build a Holy Tower for the Custodians, constructed to the highest specifications.

It just so happened that a statue of Eden himself was being built at the plaza in front of the Imperial Palace on Terra—perfect timing to send a diplomatic envoy and participate in the dedication ceremony.

It was also a chance to strengthen ties with the High Lords who supported him, perhaps exploring potential collaborative projects.

"Savior, the Custodians will forever rember your kindness!"

Lycias, seeing the Savior agree so readily and generously, gave a slight bow, deeply grateful.

"Co on now, we're all brothers here. No need to stand on ceremony. The banquet is about to begin—let's head over."

Eden, in a good mood, led the Lord Commander of the Custodians toward the banquet area.

The garden lawns had already been covered with luxurious red carpets. Tables were laden with rare delicacies, and nurous chefs bustled about, preparing dishes.

These rare ingredients had been sourced from across the galaxy, preserved by advanced thods to maintain their freshness.

It was a feast to make one's mouth water.

After all, as the Savior's domain and trade networks expanded, more and more civilized worlds established close ties with him. When the rulers of these worlds learned of the Savior's fondness for exotic delicacies, they all scrambled to present him with the rarest foods from their howorlds.

The scale had grown so large that the Savior's palace had to create a dedicated departnt to manage it, complete with large-scale food transport, chefs, and banquet planning teams.

It was necessary. The Savior enjoyed sharing these treats with his subordinates, officials, and warriors—banquets were a way to strengthen bonds.

This particular banquet was specifically to welco the Chapter Masters and the Custodians, fostering camaraderie and cooperation between them.

After all, the Chapter Masters were part of the Savior's faction now. Building familiarity with the Custodians would only help future operations.

In the center of the banquet, Big Bucket was leading a few warriors in ticulously preparing a massive, four-ter-long deep-space fish. Its translucent, crystalline flesh looked incredibly appetizing.

"Savior, please sample my latest creation!"

Big Bucket, spotting the Savior, eagerly trotted over, offering a plate of fish sashimi drizzled with holo-fruit juice. The combination made the fish glow with a crystalline shimr.

"Not bad…"

Just the aroma of the dish made Eden's mouth water and his fingers twitch in anticipation. He reached out with his chopsticks to try a piece—

When suddenly, an explosion erupted nearby.

BOOM—!

A resolute, desperate cry followed:

"For the Emperor!"

Eden froze for a mont, stunned. "What the—? Is this a Chaos or xenos ambush?"

But that didn't make sense. Baal had long since been cleared of threats.

And with himself, several Chapter Masters, and the Custodians all present, any xenos or heretics would have to be insane to attempt an attack here.

The unexpected explosion drew everyone's attention.

anwhile…

Three Buckets and his warriors had clawed their way through several kiloters of tunnels, finally reaching the surface.

He detonated a shock grenade to collapse the tunnel behind them, then led his warriors in a charge, roaring their battle cries as they prepared to fight the Tyranids.

But the next mont, the Chapter Master froze.

Before him stretched a lush, verdant landscape—flowing streams, dense foliage. It looked like a natural forest.

???

In an instant, Three Buckets and his warriors were struck dumb.

Where were the Tyranids? Where was the barren desert wasteland? This wasn't right!

It was all beyond the comprehension or experience of the Sons of Man.

After months of desperate survival in the tunnels, they had no way of knowing that Baal had undergone a complete transformation.

"This must be a Chaos plot…"

Three Buckets muttered.

Only the Warp could create such an anomaly. Otherwise, how could one explain what they were seeing?

As with all things inexplicable in the galaxy, it was simply easier to bla the Warp.

After all, only the Warp could warp reality to such a degree.

Perhaps they had been teleported elsewhere. Or perhaps they had crossed through ti itself. Or perhaps they were trapped in a Chaos-generated illusion.

But the confusion and shock of the Sons of Man quickly turned into sheer delight.

The earlier explosion had startled the local wildlife, and a large, bright-blue junglefowl burst out of the underbrush, flapping its wings in a panic.

Three Buckets reacted instantly, seizing the bird with practiced ease, his face lit up with joy. "Brothers! We have food!"

The other Sons of Man erupted in cheers.

They were long past the point of hunger. Wherever this place was, as long as there was food—

It was paradise.

Just as Three Buckets was reveling in his success, he suddenly froze. He realized more gazes were now fixed on him.

Turning his head, he locked eyes with the Savior, the assembled Chapter Masters, and the Custodians.

The Savior's entourage was fully armored, their plates gleaming, adorned with intricate scriptures, relics, and skulls—clearly dressed for a formal event.

The Sons of Man, by contrast, were filthy and ragged, looking like refugees.

And there was Three Buckets himself, sneakily holding a wild bird, looking like a common chicken thief.

Plop—

The bird slipped from his hands, clucking as it darted back into the brush.

Under the weight of so many stares, Three Buckets felt an overwhelming urge to crawl back into the tunnel and disappear.

Still, the thick-skinned Chapter Master managed to hold his ground, barely avoiding a complete social death.

The whole scene was utterly awkward and surreal.

Who could have imagined that, in the middle of a formal banquet, a band of scruffy, half-starved Space Marines would suddenly burst out of the ground?

"I am Eden Grant, the Primarch of Hope and the Savior. And you are…?"

Eden looked over the dirty, battered warriors, a hint of familiarity tugging at his mory.

"I am Three Buckets, Chapter Master of the Sons of Man. We were dispatched by Holy Terra to aid Baal, but…"

Three Buckets glanced at Eden and the others, then at the bustling banquet, where the rich aroma of food wafted over.

He swallowed hard, barely restraining himself, and asked with difficulty, "This… is Baal?"

Eden looked around, confird, and nodded.

"Yes. This is Baal."

Three Buckets' eyes widened in shock, as if this answer stunned him even more. "By the Emperor… the war against the Tyranid Hive Fleet on Baal…?"

"That ended months ago."

Eden calmly replied, already piecing together what had happened.

During the mid-phase of the Tyranid war, the Baal defensive lines had received a distress signal. The Savior's forces had responded imdiately, dispatching aid.

But upon arrival, they found no trace of the signal's origin—no sign of survivors, no transmitters, nothing.

The Tyranid swarm had utterly consud the entire area.

To avoid further losses, the elite rescue team had retreated under the protection of a Titan contingent—losing a Titan in the process.

Even after the war ended, the Savior's forces had combed the area again, but still found nothing.

In the end, they had assud the distress signal was so kind of error.

Now, it was clear that the signal had co from these Sons of Man warriors.

Learning the truth of their plight, Three Buckets' eyes shimred with unshed tears.

It was tragic beyond words.

They had crossed countless light-years to help, only to contribute nothing, lose their entire Chapter's resources, and suffer endlessly—an utter calamity.

"Brother, why don't you co over and have sothing to eat?"

Eden heard the rumbling of their stomachs and warmly invited the Sons of Man to join the banquet.

After all, they had co to aid—even if fate had been cruel.

"Savior!"

The starving, near-fainting warriors, upon hearing they could finally eat, broke down in tears.

They were ushered into the banquet, where they devoured the food in a frenzy, tears streaming down their faces.

"Savior, our Chapter has suffered terribly!"

Three Buckets sobbed between bites of roasted Auviga at, gulping down red wine.

Eden gently handed him another bottle, offering words of comfort. "Don't worry. Rest for now. We'll discuss the future later."

He glanced at Big Bucket, silently signaling him to take good care of Three Buckets.

They clearly had a lot in common.

Sure enough, Big Bucket and Three Buckets quickly hit it off, exchanging stories about food and culinary techniques.

They were astonished to discover just how similar their Chapters were—even their hobbies were alike. If anything, the Sons of Man were just a bit more naive and straightforward.

It felt like they were long-lost brothers, separated at birth.

After a few rounds of drinks, they formally swore brotherhood on the spot, forging a bond between their two Chapters.

Later, Big Bucket and Three Buckets approached the Savior, requesting that the Sons of Man be allowed to join his domain.

That was exactly what Three Buckets had hoped for. On one hand, they got along so well with the Sons of Humanity; on the other, the Sons of Man were destitute, and they needed resources to rebuild the Chapter. There were still countless uncharted treasure worlds waiting to be explored by the Sons of Man.

"By the Emperor, you're exactly the kind of talent we need!"

Eden clasped Three Buckets' hand tightly, beaming like a man who had just found a priceless treasure.

"Savior, your praise humbles …"

The Primarch's words deeply moved Three Buckets. All his life, he had faced rejection from the Imperium—even his parent Chapter had disdained him. Who would have thought the Primarch of Hope would value him so highly?

The Chapter Master pledged his loyalty.

Eden was sincere.

His rapidly growing domain needed daring n like Three Buckets—those willing to bend the rules, take risks, and play dirty when necessary.

After all, there would co a ti when deals would need to be struck with the Eye of Terror or Chaos forces—and Three Buckets was just the man for the job.

The Savior's domain was inclusive, with countless opportunities waiting for him to shine…

...

One Month Later

Baal, Holy Tower District

The tower had been assembled and was now fully operational. Its sacred radiance bathed the entire region, its light deeper in hue than the sun itself, imbuing all buildings within its glow with a divine aura.

Even from orbit, Baal now appeared as a dazzling gem.

Countless faithful gathered at the Holy Tower's sanctum to pray. The Custodians did nothing but bask under the tower's radiance all day, declaring their duty to guard this sacred site.

The Savior's Sanctuary

Eden sat in his office, reviewing docunts.

For now, the reconstruction work was largely complete. What had once been a dry, irradiated, toxic wasteland had been reborn as a verdant, life-sustaining world.

Nurous sanctuaries and plazas had been built.

Anyone arriving here from the Imperium would hardly believe this was Baal.

The victory celebrations were in their final preparations.

High-ranking nobles, planetary governors, Imperial Guard commanders, Navy officers, rogue traders… all those invited had begun arriving.

This was both a celebration and an opportunity to negotiate trade and collaboration.

Eden skimd through the guest list. It wasn't about who had arrived—but rather, who hadn't.

Aside from Holy Terra, the Imperium had many powerful regional factions—fragnted, independent forces that didn't all heed the Primarch's authority.

For many Imperial leaders, the Primarchs were ancient legends, long gone for generations.

Even the Regent's return had been only two decades ago, and his influence hadn't fully reached all corners of the Imperium.

As Eden reviewed the nas, he noticed that the White Basilica hadn't shown up yet. Another major faction's noble had also caught his attention.

That noble had sent a formal apology, citing a sudden outbreak of plague in their territory that prevented their attendance.

"Plague?"

Eden frowned at the word, a faint sense of unease stirring in his heart. He imdiately ordered his staff to investigate.

Just as he issued the command, a new ssage arrived.

More ships had arrived at Baal…

(End of Chapter)

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