[Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor] Chapter 145 (Patreon)

A massive fleet hung arrogantly over the hive city, consisting of one super-heavy cruiser, two standard cruisers, over twenty escort ships, and more than a dozen large transport vessels.

These warships were more than capable of stripping any planet in the sector bare of its resources.

Now, this fleet from afar hovered brazenly above Urth, flaunting its presence.

The citizens of Urth gazed upward at the titanic vessels, a collective weight settling on their hearts. Fear rippled through the masses as memories of the Imperial tithe fleets and the suffering and despair they left in their wake resurfaced.

On the bridge of the super-heavy cruiser, the fleet commander sneered as he looked down at the planet below.

"The intel wasn't wrong—this is a wealthy planet…"

Behind him, a towering Court Guardian with a cold expression remarked,
"A planet capable of sustaining first-tier upper-grade taxation nearly rivals Martila itself."

"Perhaps His Majesty should raise the taxes on this planet, don't you think?"

The Court Guardian remained silent. Conversations involving the Emperor were not for him to engage in.

The commander, sensing he had overstepped, held his tongue. Though he had command over the fleet, he dared not offend the Court Guardians.

These gene-enhanced warriors represented the Sector Governor, the self-proclaimed Emperor of Goliath Sector, Marius IX.

Rumor had it their combat prowess rivaled that of the Adeptus Astartes, making them near-invincible within the sector.

"Sir, you may begin the landing procedure," a subordinate prompted.

The fleet commander nodded but offered a reminder,
"Try not to kill too many locals this time.

If you slaughter the ruling class and cause prolonged chaos, it will disrupt the tax flow."

The commander recalled the devastation the Court Guardians had inflicted on Chak. They had nearly wiped out the royal family, forcing the fleet to leave behind a provisional government to stabilize the situation.

While their methods were brutal, their ultimate goal was sustained taxation. A single bloody demonstration was usually enough to ensure compliance from the locals.

The Court Guardian said nothing, silently leading his squad to the landing craft. He made no promises about restraint.

The Guardians harbored a latent bloodlust in their genes. Should the locals show disrespect to the Emperor, they would not hesitate to act.

The commander watched the landing craft descend toward the hive city with a sneer.

To him, Urth was utterly insignificant—a planet without even a single warship was unworthy of resistance. Its only option was to bow before the Emperor's might and surrender all its wealth.

Holy Plaza.

The landing craft ignored all docking requests from the royal district and shot straight toward the plaza.

Eden's expression darkened as he watched the craft approach.

Such actions were a blatant insult.

The landing craft forcibly touched down in the plaza, its turbulent landing throwing citizens to the ground and injuring several.

Anger simmered within Eden, but so did confusion. This wasn't standard Imperial Navy behavior.

As an Imperial Governor, he was entitled to a certain level of respect.

His suspicions deepened when he saw the green serpent crest emblazoned on the craft—an insignia not belonging to the Navy but to private forces.

It suggested the Sector Governor had exploited the Warp storms to betray the Imperium and seize control of the fleet—or, at the very least, the fleet's high command had aligned with the Sector Governor's schemes.

Such treachery wasn't unheard of in the Imperium's shadowy fringes. Whether driven by ambition or survival, opportunists would seize any chance for power.

This was not going to end peacefully.

The visitors clearly intended to plunder Urth, cloaking their theft under the guise of taxation.

The landing craft, over a hundred meters long, settled as its doors opened.

Heavy-armored soldiers armed to the teeth emerged, escorting several ceremonial officials in dark green robes, their faces obscured by veiled hats, and holding ornate scepters.

Finally, towering figures in green power armor—Court Guardians—stepped out, radiating an overwhelming presence.

The group ignored the crowd and marched straight toward Eden.

The lead Court Guardian coldly declared,
"By the decree of His Majesty Marius IX, Governor of the Goliath Sector, we are here to inspect this planet and ensure your compliance with the Imperium's sacred obligations.

Here is His Majesty's writ."

He retrieved a parchment scroll from the ceremonial official and issued another command:
"Kneel and receive this decree. Such is the loyalty and respect due to His Majesty."

Eden remained motionless, his gaze icy. None of the citizens moved either, showing no intention of kneeling.

"Kneel!"

The elderly ceremonial official screeched, his voice sharp and grating.
"Do you dare defy the will of the Emperor?"

The official was enraged by their defiance. Did these fools not see the fleet above, capable of obliterating the entire planet?

Eden finally spoke, his voice calm but firm:
"It's not a question of daring. I'd like to know—are you legitimate representatives?"

"What do you mean?" the official snapped, raising his voice.

"Goliath Sector is under Imperial governance. There is no Emperor other than the one true and great God-Emperor.

I have reason to suspect your loyalty."

The ceremonial official sneered.
"To insult His Majesty is to invite punishment!"

The Court Guardian captain grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes.
"Another ignorant primitive."

He strode toward Eden, intending to crush this insolent governor's kneecaps and spirit.

But just as his gauntleted hand reached for Eden's shoulder, a gust of wind roared past.

The Court Guardian reacted too late.

Clang!

A massive hand caught his own.

The warrior who intervened stood 2.6 meters tall, a full head taller than the Guardian. He wore ornate, dark gold power armor—Carter, Eden's Thunder Guardian, the most powerful warrior on Urth.

The bioengineering research had succeeded in replicating the creation of Thunder Warriors.

While the process retained flaws—short lifespans and inherent cardiac issues—Eden had invested vast amounts of Hope Energy to perfect these warriors.

Out of countless attempts, only 40 Thunder Guardians survived, but they were unmatched in strength.

Even ordinary Space Marines would struggle against them. These Court Guardians were no match.

"What are you?" the Court Guardian captain growled, sensing a palpable danger radiating from Carter.

Carter remained silent, his grip tightening. With a swift motion, he forced the Guardian to his knees.

Crack!

The ground shattered beneath the Guardian's weight.

"Die!"

The enraged Guardian drew his blade, aiming for Carter's throat.

But Carter easily disarmed him, tossing the weapon aside before delivering a series of devastating punches.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Court Guardian's helmet and skull caved under the blows, blood spraying onto Carter's armor.

The entire exchange lasted mere seconds, leaving the crowd stunned.

"Kill him!" the ceremonial official shrieked, pointing at Carter in terror.

Gunfire erupted, but it came from above.

One by one, the remaining Court Guardians and their soldiers fell as the Thunder Guardians eliminated them with ruthless efficiency.

In under a minute, all opposition was neutralized.

Eden approached the trembling official, his expression calm.
"Were you planning to kill me?"

The official collapsed to his knees.
"Mercy! Mercy!"

Above the Hive City.

The fleet received the final transmissions from the ground.

On the bridge of the super-heavy cruiser, the commander's face twisted in rage.

"The primitives dare to kill His Majesty's retinue? This is war against the Emperor!"

Overwhelmed with fury, he barked his orders:
"Destroy the hive city! Kill everyone in it!"

The warships adjusted their positions, aiming their massive cannons at the hive below.

The gaping barrels of their guns loomed ominously, sending waves of dread through the hearts of all who beheld them.

(End of Chapter)

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