Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor Chapter 96: Reclaiming the Grey Wolf Warband’s Territory

The eerie scene before them heightened everyone's vigilance.

This was clearly a powerful foe.

But no one was going to back down.

According to the Governor's orders, this opponent had to be dealt with tonight in order to et the deadline for the Great Judgent.

"Prepare for combat!"

Carter and the Imperial Guards drew their chainswords, advancing in a line toward the grotesque, corrupted mass of flesh.

Their steps were resolute, fueled by the determination to face death if necessary.

However, as they approached, the massive mound of flesh didn't react at all.

The voice of the Grey Wolf leader echoed in a tone filled with pain:

"Tornt... suffering... endless plague..."

"Shut up, you bastards! Let have so peace!"

He paused, seemingly uncomfortable, his fleshy mass shaking as parasites rained down from his bloated form.

"It itches so much... soone scratch it for ..."

"Sigh, forget it. Why don't you just kill already..."

Carter found it odd. It seed the leader wasn't even addressing them, but rather talking to himself.

He decided to test it out, slashing at a nearby section of the decaying flesh. Pus and blood splattered everywhere.

The flesh mound trembled, and the leader groaned:

"Ah~ that feels good... keep scratching..."

This baffled Carter. He felt a bit humiliated by the bizarre situation.

He stopped attacking and led the Imperial Guards deeper into the lair until they reached the heart of the flesh mound.

There, they finally saw the terrifying leader himself.

Carter frowned and exchanged glances with his n.

"Is this him?"

"Seems like it?"

One of the guards quickly pulled out a wanted poster, scrutinizing the leader's features before nodding in confirmation.

"The traits match. It's definitely him!"

The guards stared at the supposedly formidable leader, montarily at a loss for words.

The leader was slumped on a decrepit, iron-spiked throne, his body fused with the decaying, greasy flesh mound. Even the act of moving seed impossible for him.

The only signs of life were his labored breathing and agonized moans.

Sensing their presence, the leader weakly lifted his eyes to glance at them:

"Are you... from the King's Court... here to kill ?"

After speaking, he lowered his gaze again, as if even that small movent had drained all his energy.

He had no will to resist.

Nothing mattered anymore. He was so tired.

Ever since the corruption had claid him, rging him with this cursed flesh, pain and disease had been his constant companions.

Yet, he couldn't bear this "blessing." He couldn't enjoy it.

Every day, he howled in agony, begging or ordering his subordinates to end his suffering.

But no one ever listened. They saw his state as a divine miracle.

Now, he just wanted to end the unending pain and plague.

Carter felt no sympathy for the wretched leader before him. This heretic scum had killed too many!

Resisting the urge to execute him imdiately, Carter issued his order:

"Dig him out!"

This heretic scum didn't deserve an easy death. He had to face the Governor's judgnt in public!

The Imperial Guards used their chainswords to carve through the mound of flesh, pulling the leader from the corrupted mass.

As he scread in pain, they stuffed him into a sealed container.

Boom!

The guards retrieved high-grade fuel and doused the corrupt flesh mound, setting it ablaze.

As Carter and his squad exited the warehouse, the entire structure was engulfed in flas.

Swarms of parasites screeched as they burned, along with the rotting flesh, turning to ash.

The Imperial Guards had prevented a horrific corruption.

Had the leader survived his suffering, enduring beyond a certain threshold, it might have drawn far more terrifying attention.

In the benevolent "gifts" of that presence, this planet would have beco a playground for plague, with all life forced into an endless nightmare of suffering...

As Carter and the Imperial Guards erged from the core area, the battle at the periter had already ended. The Grey Wolf Warband had been completely wiped out.

They had fulfilled the Governor's orders.

Afterwards, Carter regrouped his n and quickly returned to the King's Court.

By this ti, the fighting throughout the Grey Wolf Warband's territory was nearing its conclusion.

Only occasional gunfire could be heard.

At dawn, large numbers of Imperial Guard and law enforcent troops flooded into the area.

They would handle the cleanup and maintain order.

The King's Court could now officially declare this territory reclaid.

Of course, due to the complexity of the region, it would take considerable effort to fully integrate it into the King's Court's governing system.

...

As the sky lightened, Arye, his battle over, walked down the street, cradling the little girl in his arms.

He planned to adopt this poor child.

The girl sat quietly in Arye's arms, neither crying nor fussing, as she struggled to swallow the wheat-flour bar in her mouth.

It was a newly manufactured Type-3 wheat-flour bar, with at least 30% wheat content, reserved for high-ranking personnel.

On Urth, such a delicacy was unimaginable, and it had completely won over the little girl.

Seeing this, Kaes handed her another Type-3 wheat-flour bar.

He asked Arye:

"What's the little one's na?"

"Maya. That's what my mama called ," the girl timidly replied.

"That's a nice na."

Kaes looked at Arye with concern:

"Cyclops, can you really take care of her?"

They were all soldiers of the Imperial Guard. Bringing her to the barracks wasn't an option.

"Damn it... no, I have no idea how to care for a kid!"

Arye grumbled loudly:

"I'm planning to send her to the Loyalist Academy. She'll get the best education there, far better than staying with a brute like ."

Urth's Loyalist Academy was nearly complete.

Arye had secured a place for enrollnt and had decided to give it to Maya.

It was said that the highly respected Administrator Bayev would serve as the headmaster, while the honorary headmaster would be none other than the great and benevolent Governor himself.

All talented children, noble offspring, and war heroes' orphans would be educated there.

Besides the resident teachers, experts from various fields would be invited to give lectures, including the Bishop, the Tech-Priests, and even the Governor.

They would be taught the best knowledge and skills, but most importantly, they would learn loyalty.

Arye patted Maya's head and advised her:

"This is a great opportunity.

Damn it... once you're in the Loyalist Academy, you'd better study like your life depends on it, you hear ?

I an that literally—you can't afford to get kicked out..."

The Loyalist Academy had a high dropout rate. Only the most exceptional could make it through to the end and be entrusted with great responsibilities.

Such opportunities were incredibly rare. For people of lower birth, it was a gift beyond generations of struggle.

When Arye's family had smuggled themselves from the underhive to the lower hive, half of them had died.

By the ti they'd fought their way into the upper hive as refugees, Arye was the only one left.

He knew just how hard it was for those at the bottom to rise to the top, to reach the higher echelons of society. It was a task akin to ascending to the heavens.

To waste such a precious gift would be a desecration.

It was sothing Arye, who had grown up in the underhive, couldn't tolerate.

Maya remained silent, but she nodded vigorously.

Arye knew the little one understood his words, and it made him happy.

Maya was a smart and brave child.

As Arye and the others returned to the King's Court, the towering spires of the palace lood overhead. Inside, the maids were busily preparing breakfast for the Governor.

anwhile, our great Governor, who had been knocked unconscious by the Emperor's powerful psychic backlash, had finally woken up from his stupor.

"Ah, that felt good!"

Eden stretched, feeling more refreshed than he had in a long ti.

He wondered aloud:

"Could the Emperor's psychic whip actually have sleep-inducing properties?"

(End of Chapter)

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