Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

The colossal skull altar, standing dozens of meters high, collapsed.

The debris crashed into the blood pool, sending waves of blood soaring into the air, drenching everyone in the vicinity.

"How is this possible!?"

Argul's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight before him.

His masterpiece, meticulously planned for years, had been destroyed just like that?

To construct the skull altar, he had served a tyrant for decades, persuading him to accept his forbidden techniques.

He had then slaughtered billions to complete the altar's construction.

Even after enduring the devastating blasts of seismic cannons, the structure had remained sturdy, capable of withstanding dozens of shell impacts.

And now, it had been smashed apart so easily?

As Argul momentarily lost focus, Deville seized the rare opportunity.

Gathering all his psychic power, he channeled it into the invisible chains binding him.

Cracks appeared in the psychic chains before they shattered completely.

Deville broke free and swung his power sword at Argul.

Yet, just before striking, he slammed into a psychic barrier and was entangled by several Bloodwing Berserkers.

Argul cast a glance at Deville.

"Young one, such a simple ambush will not work. Your mastery of the Warp is still lacking…"

Having lived for centuries, Argul's control over psychic energy had long reached its peak.

Disregarding Deville, he flew toward the ruins of the skull altar.

As a psyker and a scholar of forbidden arts, he had to remain composed at all times.

Yet now, his fury was overwhelming—he would rip apart the wretch who dared to destroy his skull altar!

From beneath the rubble, Big Barrel crawled out, sprawled atop a pile of skulls.

Stuffing a wriggling tentacled creature into his mouth, he mumbled through his chewing:

"This time… I really can't keep going…"

In his memory, he had never been this exhausted—he felt as though he was teetering on the edge of death.

Before he could even swallow, he realized he was floating.

???

"Oi, oi, oi!"

Flailing his limbs, he tried to grab onto something, but only managed to clutch a few skulls.

Looking up, he saw Argul, his demonic horns twisting and his face contorted with rage.

"Holy hell!"

On instinct, Big Barrel hurled the skull he was holding.

Clang!

The skull impaled itself onto Argul's horn, hanging there in a bizarrely comical fashion.

For a moment, silence reigned.

Argul's face darkened. He shattered the skull with a pulse of energy, his instincts telling him this fool was more than he appeared. He had to eliminate him quickly.

Binding Big Barrel, he pulled him closer.

Argul intended to subject him to the cruelest tortures, making him die in agony to quench his burning fury.

The moment their gazes met, Argul's crimson eyes turned pitch black.

He had activated his psychic ability—Fear.

This ability could conjure the darkest and most terrifying nightmares within a target's soul, crushing their spirit in absolute despair until their mind and soul disintegrated.

Instantly, Argul invaded Big Barrel's soul, memories flashing before his eyes.

Then, the forbidden scholar froze, encountering something utterly incomprehensible.

Big Barrel's soul memories… went something like this:

— "So hungry… but I had a feast in my dreams, so happy!"

— "Found food today, hehehe."

— "Lived another day. Work means corpse starch rations!"

— "Corpse starch tastes like wheat? Delicious…"

— "Wow, I joined the Defense Force! Second-type wheat starch every day!"

— "Waaah! Boss Pru is so kind! He gave me wood-chip bread!"

— "We won the war! The Defense Force rations improved! Glory to the Governor!"

— "Oh my god, I got selected for a new unit called Space Marines! Unlimited food, real meat! Praise the Savior!"

— "Wahahaha! The augmentation worked! I can eat even more now!"

…

Argul scoured Barrel's soul and found no trace of darkness or fear to exploit.

This was nearly impossible within the vast galaxy.

And yet, it had happened.

Big Barrel was, essentially, the Patrick Star of the Adeptus Astartes.

Not truly an idiot—just an optimistic simpleton with a mind like no other.

An indeterminate amount of time passed—perhaps a mere instant—before Argul was violently ejected from Big Barrel's soul.

"Damn you! You're all just jealous! My research is flawless! You cannot take this from me—die!"

Argul recoiled from the backlash, black energy spreading across his eyes as his body trembled with fear.

Like a madman, he hurled Big Barrel into the ruins of the skull altar.

Big Barrel crashed into the ground, dazed.

"The hell just happened? Did that heretic psyker just go insane?"

From his perspective, he had simply blanked out for a second, and then the psyker had gone berserk.

Still, he wasn't about to waste an opportunity. He grabbed his boltgun and emptied an entire magazine.

Blood burst from Argul's body as he tumbled into the blood pool.

Following the principle of confirming the kill, Big Barrel lobbed his remaining grenades at the impact site.

BOOM!

Explosions erupted, drenching him in a fresh spray of blood.

Wiping his face, he muttered, "That should do it, right?"

But before he could finish his sentence, a massive surge of blood erupted.

Argul emerged from the pool, now oozing thick black blood from his five orifices, his body warped with further mutations.

But he had suppressed the backlash.

"Die!"

Hatred filled Argul's gaze as he raised his hand, a swirling Chaos Vortex forming.

A dangerous ability of Chaos-aligned psykers—tearing open a rift between reality and the Warp, creating a vortex that consumed everything around it.

Risky, even for the user.

But Argul no longer cared—he just wanted Big Barrel dead!

The vortex warped the space around it, sucking in countless skulls and even wrenching Big Barrel's boltgun from his grip.

He tried to resist—but was powerless against its pull.

Whirr—

A spear flew in, severing Argul's hand.

Duke had arrived.

But the vortex did not vanish immediately, and Big Barrel was about to be dragged into the rift.

At the crucial moment, a shock grenade blasted him away from the vortex's pull.

Pru leapt in and jammed a med-injector into Big Barrel's neck.

"You still alive?"

Big Barrel, his body still trembling from the shockwave, gasped, "That was close… almost got sucked in…"

Seeing he was fine, Pru turned to support Duke in battle.

Soon, Deville arrived as well.

The three warriors forced Argul into a desperate retreat.

Finally, Deville unleashed a Smite the Daemon, shattering Argul's psychic barrier and driving his power sword deep into his chest.

Psyker energy surged through the blade, obliterating his heart and flesh.

Kneeling, moments from death, Argul smiled.

"Young one… I told you… all will be in vain. Pity… I won't be around to see it…"

BOOM—

Argul's body ignited in daemonic flames. His soul burned as he activated his final ability—

Summon Daemon.

His body disintegrated, all his psychic power pouring into the ritual.

Warp-echoed chants resounded, praising a mighty bloodthirster.

A swirling Warp rift opened above the skull ruins.

The remaining altar runes reignited.

Blood mist surged into the rift, forming a colossal pillar of blood.

"No!"

Deville dashed forward, frantically channeling his holy psychic power to sever the connection.

But it was too late.

BOOM!

The blood pillar shot skyward, merging with the Immaterium.

Deville and the others watched in dread.

A true daemon was coming.

…

The Brass Citadel, Khorne's Domain.

Flames and howls of agony filled the air as an earth-shaking roar echoed.

It was the rage of Ka'Bandha.

His slaughtering crusade was about to begin.

The towering daemon's wrath shook the sky.

Ka'Bandha's burning red form stood amidst the infernal landscape, his colossal frame emanating endless slaughter and brutality. His massive wings, adorned with the trophies of countless conquests, trembled in anticipation.

His rage had been festering.

Not long ago, he had been humiliated.

Angrath, the mightiest of Khorne's Bloodthirsters, had mocked him, questioning his strength.

This filled Ka'Bandha with unspeakable fury.

After all, he and Angrath were both Supreme Bloodthirsters, equals in Khorne's ranks!

Yet, that bastard had dared to call him the disgrace of the First Blood Host.

Ka'Bandha had been ready to challenge him immediately, to prove his might in battle.

But then Angrath had simply glared at him.

In that moment, Ka'Bandha hesitated.

That hesitation was the ultimate shame.

It crushed his pride, causing him to bow his head before the Blood Host and even in Khorne's presence.

He could feel the scornful gazes of the other daemons.

Even worse, he sensed disappointment from Khorne himself.

If he did not act, if he did not prove himself, he would be abandoned by the Blood God!

Just as his wrath was about to boil over, a distant summoning resonated across the Warp.

Ka'Bandha's eyes burned with savage delight.

An opportunity!

After years of silence, someone had finally called upon him.

He would seize this chance to unleash an unprecedented crusade of slaughter, igniting war across the galaxy.

He would make Khorne proud.

He would make all daemons witness his true power as the Supreme Bloodthirster!

"LET THE GALAXY BURN IN BLOOD!"

(End of Chapter)

[Check Out My Patreon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/zaelum]

[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[Thank You For Your Support!]