Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor Chapter 466 - 467: The Imperial Regent: “Brother Eden, you m

The Kolly Family's pilgrimage procession continued forward, with more and more residents joining in.

They were moved by the sacred atmosphere, and smiles gradually returned to their faces.

Especially the filthy children—they followed eagerly, as if the gloom that had hung over them for days or even longer had finally been lifted.

But due to prolonged starvation, many couldn't walk far before panting from exhaustion.

Hols and his adjutant observed the distant bustle of the procession, silently awaiting the Savior's verdict.

The will of that exalted being would determine the fate of these people.

If the Savior gave the order to proceed, then the Kolly Family's hundreds of thousands of core mbers would be purged. The super-heavy tanks would crush their corpses under treads of fire and steel.

Soon, the Savior's order arrived through the fastest communication channel to Hols's communicator.

"Well?" the adjutant asked impatiently. "Are we pressing the attack?"

"Our Savior says the Kolly Family's ideology is sound and should be spared. He also said that He would never betray any show of loyalty."

Hols relayed the ssage.

Though so felt a tinge of disappointnt, they also secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Cancel the assault on the Kolly Family. Withdraw the heavy armor. We have a new objective."

Hols then added, as if sothing had just occurred to him, "Also, send so units to protect the pilgrimage procession. We can't allow any heretics to defile it."

If the Kolly Family had now been deed loyal...

Then this pilgrimage was holy—and no desecration would be tolerated.

With a thunderous rumble, the super-heavy tanks began to pull back.

...

anwhile...

"By the Emperor, they're finally retreating!"

The Kolly Family's leaders wiped the sweat from their brows, feeling as though they had been granted new life.

They rejoiced in having followed the patriarch's decision—to throw their lot in fully with the Savior.

Had they wavered, they'd now be facing obliteration.

In fact, when the heavy armor approached, many had panicked and tried to flee.

"Fools!" their patriarch Watersin had roared. "Where can you possibly run? The mont we stepped onto these streets, there was no turning back. Only by gaining His rcy is there any hope for survival!"

Watersin had prevented the collapse, commanding the procession forward.

Now, that rciful being had chosen to forgive them.

Especially when they saw the Solar Auxilia marching forth to shield the pilgrimage, the patriarch smiled even more brightly—and ordered the family to offer up their finest food.

In this resource-scarce underhive world, food was the most precious gift.

But the Solar Auxilia did not accept the sticky offerings. Instead, they directed the Kolly Family to distribute them to the children trailing behind the procession.

This sparked even more genuine smiles from the crowd.

Soon after, the Kolly Family received further news.

Another family that had participated in the unrest—a heretical, traitorous clan—had been eradicated. Its core mbers were crushed repeatedly under the treads of super-heavy tanks. Their screams lasted through the night.

This only deepened the Kolly Family's gratitude for their wise patriarch.

Before long, the family's leaders once again sought the patriarch's counsel.

They found him still poring over the Savior's scripture—The Codex of Redemption.

Ever since the Savior had descended upon Terra, Watersin had been studying the battered, oil-stained to—origin unknown—with fervent devotion.

Now, he read the Codex with even greater reverence, as if it contained treasures beyond imagining.

"What good is that book anyway?" one of the family leaders asked, confused.

They had no education, no patience for such flowery language.

"Yeah, we've already sworn loyalty to the Savior," said another. "Shouldn't we send people to help Him crush His enemies?"

These n understood survival.

The Kolly Family had submitted—so now, they needed to demonstrate value. Fighting at the front, shedding blood, proving loyalty through sacrifice—that was the way.

"Knowledge changes fate."

Watersin didn't address their suggestion directly. Instead, he murmured, "That's what the Savior says. You must rember this."

He carefully turned a page, reading every word with deliberation.

Reading and pondering as if deciphering a divine will.

The others didn't dare interrupt. They waited anxiously, not wanting to disturb the family's wellspring of wisdom.

Watersin finished reading another chapter about the Savior's core doctrines and political reforms.

It was his fifth ti reading that section.

He absorbed the knowledge greedily, desperate to glimpse the true spirit of the Savior's philosophy.

Then he looked up at them, serious and solemn.

"This is not just so book. This is the Codex of Redemption, the sacred scripture written by the Great Savior Himself.

It will be the Kolly Family's secret to rising. From now on, every mber of our family must study it—deeply understand its spirit."

His words already echoed the cadence of the Savior's own teachings.

Watersin knew: Only by truly understanding the Savior's mind could they serve Him better.

"You're not wrong—we do need to act swiftly and show our loyalty to the Savior.

Even if He doesn't see it now, it may help us avoid punishnt later. We may even earn rewards."

He continued, "But think about it—does the Savior really need us to fight?

What can we even contribute on the battlefield?

We need to demonstrate more aningful value."

And that was the truth.

Families like theirs—so minor, so insignificant—being acknowledged at all was already a miracle.

Their nas likely didn't even linger in the Savior's mind.

But Watersin, a forr low-ranking Terra bureaucrat, had greater ambitions.

He hoped the Kolly Family could ride this opportunity to a better life—maybe even escape their squalor and ascend to the upper hive.

Beco a real noble house.

"The Savior said we're ideologically sound. So we must be ideologically sound. We must follow Him."

Watersin stood tall and raised his arms.

"At this difficult hour, every Kolly Family mber must take to the streets and serve the residential districts.

We will give all we can—help the needy, maintain order.

That is what the Savior wants to see.

That is how our family will earn His favor—and follow in His footsteps."

Having fully grasped the Savior's ideals through the Codex, Watersin issued his orders.

The Kolly Family's gangers hit the streets.

They wore the Savior's emblem, bore tattoos of loyalty, and forced awkward smiles across their faces.

In the Savior's na, they cleared wreckage, enforced order, helped anyone in need—

They dared not slack off in the slightest.

They even distributed precious food to the hungry.

They slted steel from ruins and reforged it into dallions bearing the Savior's image and likeness—then distributed these tokens to more residents.

They organized communities, encouraging mutual aid.

Soon, the Kolly Family's residential district beca harmonious, stable, even thriving.

This unusual developnt was noticed by the Savior's reconnaissance agents and reported back.

"Damn... the Kolly Family's making moves," Eden murmured, studying the data slate.

This was only the second ti he'd heard their na, but now, it stuck.

He was impressed by their actions.

He hadn't expected that soone in Holy Terra would grasp the Savior's spirit so quickly—and even beco a role model.

They were worth cultivating.

In fact, Eden had long realized that due to the overpopulation in Terra's hives, it was nearly impossible to maintain order during martial law.

Even distributing food had beco a logistical nightmare.

Pure crackdowns couldn't solve everything.

He had the stick—it was ti for the carrot.

What he needed were grassroots forces to help maintain stability and keep operations running.

The problem was, he hadn't found the right candidate.

Until now.

The Kolly Family had provided a concrete example of what he was looking for.

"You'll do."

He lightly tapped the Kolly dossier, marking it as a model example for propaganda—hoping to attract more factions to switch sides.

Set the example. Build the model.

It was one of his go-to governing strategies.

Soon, the Savior's envoys arrived at the Kolly estate, bearing a banner of honor inscribed with the Primarch of Hope's sigil.

The Savior formally comnded the Kolly Family for their loyalty and generosity during martial law.

He urged them to continue working hard—for the prosperity of Holy Terra.

Patriarch Watersin received the banner with trembling reverence, hanging it in the very center of the family's grand hall.

He declared that all their deeds had been guided by the spirit of the Savior.

The accompanying propaganda unit recorded the Kolly Family's deeds and the district's transformation—highlighting the most inspiring monts.

These holovid segnts were then distributed across the hives.

Without question, the Kolly Family would earn a generous slice of the pie when the Savior's campaign succeeded.

It was a signal:

The Savior is not heartless. He is rciful—and accepts loyal followers.

Many hive factions wavered.

So began to surrender.

The Kolly Family's model quickly spread.

Other loyalist clans began copying them, dramatically reducing the pressure on martial law enforcent.

Hive after hive was pacified and brought under control.

In fact, public order in so places improved compared to before.

Public opinion of the Savior also improved.

He was no longer seen as just a brutal tyrant—residents were less susceptible to agitation and rumors.

"The situation is looking fantastic..." Eden smiled as he reviewed the incoming reports.

He even popped a little celebratory champagne with his allies.

Thanks to the purges and the mass surrender of gang families and factions, many forr enemies had now beco instrunts of order.

Better yet, they'd beco useful in implenting future reforms.

Of course, this was only temporary.

Once Terra had been fully reford and stabilized, new administrative departnts would be created to gradually phase out these gangs.

So mbers would be absorbed as official civil workers or reassigned elsewhere.

That part wouldn't be too hard.

After all, once those gangsters had real jobs and decent lives—who'd still risk death on the streets just for a bite of food?

Not when the Savior's bolter has the final say.

Even in his previous life, many factions would rapidly shift strategies once they made their first bucket of gold.

Everyone wanted to live with dignity—no one wanted to constantly risk their life at the bottom of society.

From the current state of things, the martial law coup was already halfway to success. Now, it depended on how the opposition would respond.

After sipping his champagne, Eden regained his usual caution.

The next step would be dealing with the upper hive's vast bureaucratic apparatus—billions of administrative personnel.

This was the true challenge.

How could he bring these hereditary bureaucrat families under control?

Put simply, the martial law coup was now entering deep waters.

The opposition still had a chance to turn the tide.

He couldn't afford to capsize in the gutter now.

…

Terra Court.

Within the Roskavler family fortress—surrounded by layers of force fields and fortified defenses—stood heavily ard elite warriors wielding ltaguns.

The installation was further defended by hundreds of super-heavy artillery pieces and even included elents from an Imperial Knight household.

This was a defense capable of withstanding an assault from several Space Marine Chapters or even Legion-level forces.

Without orbital strikes, it was near-impossible to breach.

Even during the Horus Heresy, no traitor had ever managed to bypass the orbital defenses to strike Holy Terra from above.

If such an event were to occur, it would signal the end of Terra itself.

Tens of thousands of Whirlwind and Atmospheric Incinerator Torpedoes could easily send the Throneworld into oblivion.

After the coup sparked by the return of the Lord Regent, this area had seen further fortification. Forbidden chanical structures were even installed in certain zones.

Not even the Adeptus Custodes could break through easily.

The Roskavler family had operated in Terra Court for millennia.

The current Minister of Internal Affairs, Violeta, was a scion of this family. Over ti, her kin had perated every key departnt of the Administratum.

They had beco part of the Empire's very machinery.

The original design of Terra Court and its departnts was to prevent the Primarchs and Astartes from monopolizing power.

But ironically, so simply used bloodlines to achieve the sa outco—a dynastic monopoly of authority.

This was perhaps inevitable.

But now, these people had beco an obstacle to the Imperium's continued survival and prosperity.

The Savior had decided they must be removed—

Unless they swore loyalty and accepted reassignnt.

But power was a drug—intoxicating and maddening. No one gave it up willingly.

Not until death stared them in the face.

…

Inside a secret chamber deep within the fortress—

Violeta sat in silence, reviewing intelligence from across the hive sectors.

The Savior had already crushed the uprisings and even purged several Roskavler affiliates.

A dangerous sign.

It might an that the Savior was preparing to strike at Terra Court and the departnts directly.

Fortunately, that wouldn't be easy.

The departntal complexes spanned massive territories—so the size of small continents—each a miniature kingdom.

If the nobles, bureaucrats, and departntal staff could remain united—

Not even the Savior's army would find them easy to conquer.

But Violeta's real concern was this: as the riots quieted, the hearts of the people wavered.

She and her allies needed a new plan.

"What should we do now?" asked the head of the Navigator House, the Father of Novas.

He was perhaps the most anxious of them all. Several other High Lords awaited the Minister's reply.

"We need more ti…"

Violeta's face was cold. "So, Holy Terra must descend into greater chaos and sacrifice. We will manufacture a planet-wide famine."

Their plan: destroy all grain silos and water treatnt plants—throwing Holy Terra into starvation.

Sure, the Savior could feed his army.

But he couldn't feed all of Terra in such short order.

Their control of the planetary shipping fleet remained intact, and they had stockpiles of food.

When desperation gripped the people, they would arrive with supplies—garnering gratitude and proving who truly held Terra's lifeline.

"But the Savior has the Webway and many supply fleets. He can import resources…" the Father of Novas protested.

Everyone had seen the Savior's logistics fleets entering the Sol System.

"I know that. I don't need you to remind ," Violeta snapped.

"That's why I had you deploy your ard fleets in advance. Even if the Savior tries to bring in supplies, he won't be fast enough.

And more importantly, we'll intercept and destroy his fleets—make it look like an alien pirate attack."

"His ships are lightly ard. They can't resist a real assault."

Terra's supply lines were already stretched thin.

If the basic reserves were destroyed—

A famine would set in within days. There's no way the Savior could respond in ti.

Even if he tried, they'd blast his shipnts to bits.

Yes, there would be sacrifices—thousands would die in hunger and chaos.

But that was acceptable collateral.

Violeta turned to Admiral reda, a High Lord and commander of the Imperial Navy.

"Can you secure the Sol System's outer routes?"

"By the Emperor, if the Savior's fleets approach, I'll erase them."

The Admiral spoke with total confidence.

He had a fleet of loyalist warships and control of nurous orbital bastions and surveillance systems.

He could destroy the Savior's convoys and wipe the data clean—no trace left for investigation.

Besides, once their faction won, who would dare investigate the Luminous Concord?

Imperial law couldn't touch a High Lord.

Because High Lords are the law. They write it, enforce it, and decide its aning.

…

Then ca thunderous explosions.

Grain silos and water plants across Holy Terra were obliterated. Black smoke rose, turning the already-dim skies even grayer.

Rumors spread: it had been the Savior's army, destroying infrastructure during their purge of rebels.

Uproar followed.

Hives that had only just cald down were now on the edge of fresh unrest.

"Tch… which genius ca up with this?"

Eden inhaled sharply as he read the reports.

Frowning, he instructed Tarko: "Well, no helping it. Recall all our agents—quickly!"

Ironically, he'd just been preparing a covert op to seize those sa silo zones—to consolidate Terra's resource control.

But now? The enemy had done the job for him.

Anyone who didn't know better would think he had moles inside the Luminous Concord.

Eden was even tempted to send them a thank you banner.

Objectively speaking, their strategy was correct.

Destroying food and water reserves ant even the Savior's logistics arm couldn't et the shortfall fast enough.

It was like losing the rations of entire sectors—impossible to compensate on short notice.

But Eden had always planned to feed all of Terra.

As the saying goes: "He who feeds you, earns your loyalty."

Once the administrators, soldiers, and citizens of Terra started eating Savior-branded rations, they'd know who to thank.

Back in the day, trying to supply your own resources for the people?

That was suspicious—an attempt to usurp power.

The High Lords would never allow it, even if your food was better—and free.

But now, they had panicked and given him the perfect opportunity.

Their stockpiles burned? So be it. From now on, all of Terra's supplies would co from the Savior.

Then, just as Eden was finalizing his next moves, more reports arrived.

The opposition had struck again.

Now, all departntal supply chains had halted.

Violeta and other High Lords stepped forward—

Offering to use their personal reserves to temporarily feed core departnts.

But that wouldn't last.

The crisis was growing.

They demanded the Savior end martial law, lift all restrictions, and cease the purges—so departnts could resu distribution.

Eden refused.

However, he did allow the departnts to requisition supplies if they could.

But under pressure, fear, and manipulation by their supervisors—

Billions of administrative workers across Terra began to oppose the Savior's regi.

They were already wary of reform, afraid of losing their hereditary posts.

With martial law, their workloads had spiked.

Now their food was gone—and this was the Savior's fault!

Manipulated and enraged, they launched a massive strike.

"Let the Savior, this new Vandire, see what happens without us!"

Holy Terra—Throneworld and imperial heart—was paralyzed.

Its shutdown would ripple outward across the entire Imperium.

Eden was caught off guard by such a drastic maneuver.

He hadn't expected the High Lords to go this far—to gamble with humanity's future—just to protect their power.

The Imperium truly had beco their private estate.

As this crisis deepened—

Several moderate High Lords urged the Savior to compromise, surrender to the Luminous Concord, and withdraw from Terra.

They even promised that his domain wouldn't be punished.

That made Eden laugh in disbelief.

He had bled for this reform—trying to turn Terra into a world like Urth, to lift the Imperium out of its decay and bring prosperity.

Yet it was the opposition endangering humanity's survival.

And now they told him to "think of the bigger picture"?

Did they think he was a soft target? Easy prey for threats?

…

Even the Lord Regent, suffering a mild cold, was deeply alard and imdiately contacted the Savior.

"My brother… perhaps it's ti to stop all this…"

Roboute Guilliman's eyes held guilt and sorrow.

"I must restore stability to Terra. I'll try to balance the opposition, secure you a seat in the Senatorum Imperialis—to avoid a civil war."

He was full of grief.

Like Eden, he too had tried reform—and failed.

Ambitious n were using their father's empire to strangle the Primarchs—forcing them into concessions.

Eden scoffed.

"Old Robby… Terra's finished. Why don't we go start a Second Imperium together?"

He half-joked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Now's not the ti for jokes," Guilliman shook his head. "A Second Imperium would an open war."

He paused, waiting for Eden's reply. "The situation is rotting fast. You need to lift martial law—and respond soon."

"…Sorry. I refuse."

Eden's tone turned cold after a mont's silence.

"I extended a hand in goodwill—but they trampled it.

I'm done playing gas.

If they want death, then my armies will give them death. I will burn Holy Terra to the ground."

(End of Chapter)

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