Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 304 - 305: Dark Rampage Mode Devourer!?

Zzz—

Dim, shadowy teleportation energy faded like mist retreating from the night, revealing a clearer view ahead.

The towering figure of Eden, nearly six meters tall, was fully revealed before the assembled daemons.

It was as if he had stepped out from the abyss itself. His thick, menacing black armor seemed to devour all surrounding light.

This power armor, coated in Blackstone plating, was a cutting-edge creation of the forbidden tech of his domain.

It was designed to better harness energy from the devouring side of the Little Sun.

Clenching his fist, Eden's bones and joints cracked thunderously. He could feel the immense power coursing through his body.

This was his true form.

Ever since his body ascended to the level of a Primarch, he had hidden within a nutrient tank equipped with jamming technology, only allowing clones to act externally—

—to deceive the enemy.

But now, facing Be'lakor, a powerful daemon seeking to shatter his prestige, Eden had no choice but to take the risk and act in person.

After his clones had tested the waters, Tech-sages, and other scouts had thoroughly investigated the Throne Core Region and the planet for traps—

His true body had immediately joined the battle through a warp gate.

Looking at Be'lakor, Eden spoke with barely restrained anger: "Be'lakor... you've enraged me. You will pay a price beyond what you can bear."

However...

The events that followed were entirely unexpected.

BOOM—!

The ruined throne suddenly exploded, debris flying in every direction.

Be'lakor's massive daemon body slowly rose into the air, continuing to expand.

Looking down at Eden, his gaze grew colder: "Devourer... Your body is indeed impressive, but it only gives you the right to face me. You're dealing with a demigod!"

Indeed, he had been hit just now—but it was a sneak attack.

"No matter your disguise, your deceit has been exposed!"

Be'lakor's dark energy surged again as he let out a deafening roar—wielding strength at a demigod's level.

Even a Primarch could hardly resist!

Within the Veil.

After a moment of shock, the horde of daemons also reacted.

Though the Devourer's terrifying appearance was indeed shocking, his strength still didn't match that of the Dark Lord.

With Be'lakor dismantling the illusion, the daemons' awe began to fade, the fear shrouding their hearts slowly dissipated.

They began to view things more objectively.

Even if the Devourer now looked more fearsome, he could no longer frighten them—his terror had always been a facade.

Gradually, the gaze of some Chaos daemons changed.

Their fear was replaced by new flames—contempt, rage, and hatred.

This shift brewed like a hidden storm within their hearts.

The atmosphere inside the Veil changed dramatically.

The former heavy silence was broken—replaced by mocking laughter, at first scattered—

But soon rising into a raging tide.

Tzeentchian Greater Daemons whispered from the shadows, their warp-eyes twinkling with craftiness, grins tugging at their lips—

—as if they had grasped the key to victory.

"This guy..."

One Tzeentch Greater Daemon spoke in a low, mocking tone: "He always relied on the cursed one's weapon, deceiving us. His strength... it's all smoke and mirrors, a carefully crafted fraud."

Another Tzeentch daemon followed up confidently: "The Devourer isn't as powerful as the rumors claim. His so-called dominance is a lie, a facade bolstered by external power."

"And now, we've found the countermeasure to that weapon. His false face has no place to hide!"

"Exactly!"

A third Tzeentch daemon shrieked, riling up the horde, shouting: "His true weakness has been exposed—we no longer need to fear him! We can tear him apart at any moment!"

At these words, all remaining fear was swept away from the daemon horde's hearts.

Their fanaticism ignited like wildfire, rapidly spreading through the Veil.

Laughter, curses, and howls interwove. Warp energy twisted the space violently. It became a literal orgy of chaos.

The emotional backlash was overwhelming.

"Dark Lord! Kill this treacherous coward!"

"Liar! Pitiful fraud!"

"The Devourer is the true clown—his lies can no longer fool us!"

Within Khorne's faction:

"Maybe... we were deceived..."

The Greater Daemons of Khorne squinted, for once trying to think, their primitive minds grinding into motion.

It was they who had suffered the most under the Devourer's hand—who once revered him as a lifelong rival.

But now, seeing his "true form"... was it all just a ruse?

This revelation only made the Khorne daemons angrier.

They despised liars above all—comparing the Devourer to some crafty, worthless Tzeentch filth.

No—he was worse than a Tzeentch trickster!

Burning with rage, the Khorne Greater Daemons could no longer bear the shame of being fooled. They began ramming against the Veil separating them.

They longed to break through to the other side—to tear that fraud to pieces!

"Blood God above—there's another liar hiding among us..."

Angrath, once the First Greater Daemon, barely held back his fury, trying to remain logical—his mind churning as he considered a new possibility.

"You mean... there's a traitor here? Who?!"

The others zeroed in on his words, demanding an answer. Their breaths grew heavier.

If the liar was truly among them, he'd be ripped to shreds.

Angrath hesitated, but after recalling everything—

He finally spoke the name:

"Ka'Bandha."

His voice turned resolute with restrained fury: "Ka'Bandha conspired with the Devourer to fool us all—stealing a place that doesn't belong to him!"

The daemons' eyes widened—suddenly, everything made sense.

Indeed!

Ka'Bandha had never been the most powerful Bloodthirster.

His record was mediocre—repeated defeats, humiliated by the Blood Angels and their Primarch.

He was once the laughingstock of the daemonic host.

Yet somehow, in recent years, despite no notable victories, he rose to become the First Greater Daemon—respected by Khorne's followers.

Why?

Because of his "battles" with the Devourer!

He constantly exaggerated the Devourer's brutality, claiming he was invincible—spinning tales of an unstoppable force.

He became the Warp's #1 Devourer Hype Man.

Seizing every chance to trumpet the Devourer's terror.

Warp daemons believed him—believed that if the Devourer was terrifying, then Ka'Bandha, who had survived him, must be elite.

But now that the Devourer's fraud had been exposed?

His legend collapsed—and Ka'Bandha with it. Now he was seen as a conman, a charlatan, a disgrace.

Even worse, when one thought about it—Ka'Bandha had never actually won.

So what gave him the right to be the First Greater Daemon?

Angrath, once dethroned, burned with wrath.

Staring past the Veil at the Devourer—

He could clearly feel it: he was strong enough to fight him—and possibly take his head.

No doubt about it now—Ka'Bandha had deceived them all.

"Liars—two damn liars!"

Angrath, the strongest Bloodthirster, finally erupted.

Daemon aura thundered around him.

His furious roar echoed beyond the Veil: "Devourer—I will rip apart your treacherous hide, and Ka'Bandha's worthless corpse!"

The Bloodthirsters fumed with rage, plotting to expose Ka'Bandha before the Blood God after the battle—

—to have him condemned, disgraced—

—his corpse buried at the gates of the Brass Citadel, trampled by daemons—

—eternally shamed.

Meanwhile, far among the stars...

On an industrial world.

The atmosphere turned crimson, like a Veil soaked in blood. Volcanoes erupted. Lava and smoke poured across the surface—

Consuming all life.

This world, already overrun by Genestealers and targeted by the Tyranids, now faced its doom before the swarm arrived.

And there, Ka'Bandha was wreaking havoc.

The mere presence of the First Greater Daemon inspired dread, as he ravaged the land—

Noted! I'll keep automatically continuing the translation without any need for reminders. Continuing now...

...He had already destroyed the region occupied by the human cultists, collected enough blood and souls—and technically, he could now return to the Brass Citadel.

After all, those damn Tyranid bugs didn't even have souls.

Any battle against them was a loss by default.

But Ka'Bandha was worried that if he returned too early, and the battle with the Devourer hadn't ended yet—

He might be ordered by the Blood God to join the siege.

To face the Devourer.

"That would be... dishonorable. The great First Greater Daemon should fight the Devourer in a fair duel!

Yes... yes, that's it..."

He convinced himself in his mind—

And silently prayed that the Devourer wouldn't lose. Or at least, wouldn't lose too badly.

Otherwise, his own reputation as First Greater Daemon would be completely ruined.

So to delay his return—

Ka'Bandha sacrificed more soul essence to keep his daemon horde operating in realspace, continuing to lead them in their slaughter.

Purging those damned bugs.

ROAR—!

"You disgusting insects—just die already!"

Ka'Bandha bellowed in rage.

This losing war made him hate the Tyranids even more.

He tore apart a Purestrain Genestealer that lunged at him—

Wielding his blood axe, he hacked wildly. The Purestrain was as fragile as paper in his hands—ripped to shreds with ease.

Then—

He grabbed a kneeling cultist, who was babbling about "loyalty" and "ascension," and stuffed him into his mouth.

Only to immediately spit him out.

"Disgusting bug-meat!"

The flesh was sour, soul-less, utterly revolting.

Some time later, Ka'Bandha grew completely bored.

"I've wasted enough time. I should be able to return now, right?"

CLANK!

He tossed his axe to Bary and prepared to lead his army back into the Warp—away from these accursed insects.

Suddenly—his massive body trembled.

An unprecedented sense of crisis surged from deep within him, flooding his mind like a tidal wave.

"What's happening—has the Blood God summoned me to battle?"

Ka'Bandha panicked.

He had a bad feeling.

If he couldn't avoid this crisis, he might truly die.

It was far too dangerous...

So the First Greater Daemon decided to stay even longer.

He began wiping out the Genestealers even more fervently, not daring to slack off even a bit—

Afraid that if he "slacked," the Blood God would notice.

...

Within the Veil.

Warp energy shivered and twisted. Countless daemonic whispers echoed.

They mocked the Devourer without mercy.

There was no doubt—

The once-feared Devourer had lost all his majesty.

Worse yet—

The Tzeentchian daemons spread the news across the Warp with glee, pushing a storm of shocking headlines.

"The Devourer's a complete fraud! He's been faking it the whole time—he's actually weak!"

"Ka'Bandha, First Greater Daemon, fabricated the Devourer's power and fooled all of us!"

"Breaking: Blood God deceived by his own daemon! Has Khorne's realm lost its last brain cell?!"

Clearly, some messages were laced with strong bias.

But regardless, the news spread like wildfire across the Warp—

Countless daemons and Chaos entities turned their eyes toward the battlefield.

Some grew restless—

Others directly joined the anti-Devourer army, eager to loot or ride the wave of the coming Dark Crusade.

Within the Brass Citadel.

Flames blazed. Blood shadows twisted and bowed.

The sky above the throne was stained red.

It was the Blood God's wrath.

In the Warp, no one dared deceive Khorne. Even Tzeentch would get smacked.

The Bloodthirsters, though afraid, secretly rejoiced—

They had long disliked Ka'Bandha's arrogance.

Now that he had dared to deceive the Blood God—

He was doomed to suffer endless torment.

And die the most painful, humiliating death imaginable.

...

Corevax.

Throne Core Region.

The daemonic mockery of the Devourer grew louder and louder.

Be'lakor was feeling smug.

"Hear that? The daemons no longer fear you. You will die—shamefully—by a demigod's sword!"

"A bunch of clowns, popping their champagne at halftime, huh?"

The Devourer's raspy voice rang out—

The daemons fell silent for a moment—then grew even more frenzied.

Eden ignored the noise completely. Before he even arrived in his true body, he had already predicted a daemonic backlash.

If it continued—

It would indeed become troublesome.

Even if he used Holy Ash Rounds, it wouldn't be enough to frighten them anymore.

In the future, his realm would face endless invasions from daemons who had lost their fear of him—or felt betrayed.

There was only one solution now:

Crush them with an iron fist!

Eden looked at Be'lakor and sneered coldly:

"Demigod? You think that's impressive? Did you forget—I'm also a demigod..."

Years ago, the Little Sun had become severely weakened while rescuing him from the Slaanesh palace—

But over the years, with constant support from faith energy in his realm, it had regained its divine might.

It had even grown stronger.

Previously, bolstered by daemonic fear-generated worship, the Little Sun had gained a portion of Devouring Authority—

And stored a massive amount of violent energy.

Now, with the Veil at the throne region beginning to tear—drawing closer to the Warp—

This environment would lessen realspace's suppression of daemons, empowering Be'lakor further—

But it would also empower him.

HUM—

The Little Sun was activated—its dark aspect began to boil.

Its power, derived from the fear daemons held for the Devourer, overflowed with violent energy—

And holy suppression.

Eden burned up all that power—granting his true body a temporary divine boon.

All in.

He'd saved it up this long. Time to let loose!

In an instant—

Thick, violent energy surged into Eden's body, enhancing his power and altering his appearance.

His helmet sprouted twin horns wreathed in daemonfire. His Blackstone armor grew jagged, demonic protrusions. Phantom wings spread behind him.

Dark energy twisted around him—

And as his size increased, overwhelming pressure swept outward.

It was raw, undeniable power!

Within the Veil—

The daemons felt it. Their hysteria froze in place.

They all had the same thought:

Perhaps... this is the real Devourer?!

BOOM—!

A crater burst open beneath his feet.

A black figure shot into the air, floating—staring down Be'lakor.

Eden's crimson eyes flared with storming fury:

"Now... I can tear you apart."

In this moment, he felt divine—unstoppable.

He wanted to destroy everything.

Eden finally understood—

Why Chaos entities were always so insane. With this violent power, even he couldn't help but go wild.

A normal person suddenly given Superman's strength—how could they not snap?

Clearly, using the dark side's power strongly affected his mind.

It was the classic case of power altering personality.

The once-cautious tactician now wanted nothing more than to brawl—

—which was exactly what he needed.

This sudden shift stunned the entire throne region into silence.

Be'lakor stared at him. In his cold eyes, a flash of fear.

It wasn't an act—he genuinely felt threatened.

This power could kill him.

"DIE!!"

Be'lakor screamed, unleashing his stored energy. His obsidian sword cleaved out a massive arc—

Hundreds of chains shot forward like venomous snakes, tightly binding Eden—

Trying to restrict his movement.

"Pathetic attacks..."

Eden didn't even try to dodge.

He crossed his arms and took the full hit.

Be'lakor's charged wave of warp energy smashed into him—

Crashing against a semicircle of black energy around his body. The impact destroyed nearby buildings in a ripple of power.

As the chains clattered to the ground and the mist cleared—

The hulking black figure remained.

Be'lakor's pupils shrank—

"How is that possible?!"

The Devourer had taken his full-strength attack head-on—and looked untouched!

Well... not entirely untouched. Eden's arm armor was cracked and damaged.

"Now it's my turn, right?"

Eden's voice growled like an abyssal echo.

He pulled out a power weapon—but after glancing at it, casually tossed it aside.

Instead, he grabbed a broken chain—

And wrapped it around his fist.

BOOM!

An airburst followed. Eden vanished.

Be'lakor barely registered the black flash before the Devourer was right in front of him.

He slashed in panic—

But Eden sidestepped it with ease.

Then Be'lakor sensed danger—he raised his sword to block.

CLANG—!

A colossal force smashed the blade, bending it.

Be'lakor felt like a tank had rammed him head-on—he flew backward into a wall, embedding into it.

But before he could recover—

BANG!

A jet-black fist slammed into his face, crushing his nose—dark blood spurting.

His vision blurred—

"You really look like a clown now..."

Eden looked down coldly at Be'lakor.

Thinking of the pain he caused the Charalton region, the screaming bodies on the altar, the raining limbs—

His rage exploded.

"I promise—your death will be slow, brutal, and without dignity."

With that—

He unleashed a flurry of punches, shattering most of Be'lakor's teeth.

"Devourer..."

Be'lakor roared in madness, lunging wildly.

Their battle tore through the throne complex—one building after another collapsing.

Even the Custodians below retreated.

This fight was beyond them.

BOOM—!

Be'lakor slammed into the ground, his body covered in swollen bruises.

He was devastated to find—

His attacks couldn't hurt the Devourer.

And the Devourer's punches—

He couldn't block.

If he kept fighting—

He would die.

...

...CRACK.

The sound of space fracturing echoed—the Veil split open anew.

The Dark Lord shrieked, unleashing a blinding attack to create cover, and seized the moment to flee toward the tear.

He no longer cared for his dignity—his only goal now was survival.

Besides, just beyond the Veil—

Were dozens of Greater Daemons and an endless daemon horde.

If he could escape temporarily, they could enlarge the rift and unleash the daemonic tide to drown this cursed enemy.

No matter how powerful the Devourer was, he couldn't withstand that many daemons!

Be'lakor flew at incredible speed. The rupture was right before him—one final push and he'd be through.

A glint of triumph flickered in his eyes:

"Just a bit more—just reach that point..."

"Sorry. You're not going anywhere."

A raspy voice suddenly whispered behind him—Be'lakor froze.

"No—!"

He stretched out his hand, desperately reaching for the portal—

Only for a massive force to seize his leg and drag him back.

"Tch... feels familiar somehow..."

Eden yanked Be'lakor backward.

The motion sparked a strange sense of déjà vu.

It reminded him of an old acquaintance.

Of course—like master, like minion. All from the same Tzeentchian mold.

High above—

Eden clutched Be'lakor, and with relentless, brutal blows, pummeled him until he was covered in blood.

The Dark Lord's howls echoed across the region—chilling to the bone.

During this savage beating—

Eden caught the gazes of the watching daemons within the Veil.

The contempt and mockery had vanished—replaced with fear.

Ah. Iron fists really do work best.

Then he seized Be'lakor's bat-like wings and yanked.

"Aaaaaarghhh!"

The Dark Lord howled even more shrilly.

Before the horrified eyes of the daemons—

Eden tore both wings clean off.

Dark, thick blood drenched him, making his form even more monstrous.

HUM—

The Warp roared.

Satisfying!

The scene filled Eden with a rare euphoria.

He'd once felt exhilarated watching the Emperor tear Vashtorr apart in front of the Chaos Gods.

Now, experiencing it firsthand—

Yeah, it felt amazing.

CRASH!!!

Be'lakor's battered form was slammed into the ground, sending up a cloud of smoke.

Huuu—

He gasped for breath, trying to lift his body.

Then he froze—his hopeless eyes suddenly lit up.

Because...

Right before him, the Veil was splitting wide open—a gap large enough for even Greater Daemons to pass through.

And more were forming!

His grand plan—had succeeded!

Zzzzz...

Tiny warp arcs flickered. Surge upon surge of chaotic Warp energy poured out.

"Ahahahahahah!"

Be'lakor burst into manic laughter:

"Devourer—you failed to stop the Veil's tear! You can't kill me now!"

Beyond the Veil—

ROAR—!

Dozens of Greater Daemons surged toward the breach.

Even if the Devourer defeated Be'lakor, there was no way he could handle all of them.

Besides, those Greater Daemons would never tolerate the Devourer humiliating Be'lakor before their eyes.

It would be an eternal disgrace to daemonkind.

"Is that so?"

Eden's twisted form crashed down in front of the breach, stomping hard on Be'lakor's back—forcing him to kneel before the rift and the daemons beyond.

Then, a tremendous pressure erupted from him—

"You dare face me directly?"

His overpowering presence stunned the charging Greater Daemons.

Eden seized the opportunity and stomped, shattering Be'lakor's leg bones—causing another guttural scream.

But the scream stopped halfway—

Because a glowing Holy Ash round was stuffed into his mouth.

"Devourer... I beg you..."

Be'lakor trembled all over, mumbling in fear and regret.

He could feel the sacred energy burning inside him—pure terror gripped him.

Maybe Blackstone arrays could reduce the cursed one's damage—but not at this range, and not when it was inside him.

He wouldn't survive.

As death loomed—

The Dark Lord of Chaos, chosen of the Four Gods, the bringer of untold suffering to Charalton—

Truly repented.

But it was too late.

"I told you—your death would be disgraceful."

Eden's voice was ice cold, his tone absolute.

He shoved the round deeper—and activated it.

FLASH—

Holy light burst from Be'lakor's core, burning his organs from within.

Dark smoke billowed.

Agonizing pain coursed through him layer by layer, ripping apart his infernal flesh.

"NOOOO!!!"

Be'lakor collapsed on his knees, letting out a final, guttural wail.

Light erupted from his mouth—

And soon consumed him entirely.

The Dark Lord was gone.

His body, his soul—reduced to ash.

Within the Warp—

A mournful cry echoed, announcing the fall of another Chaos god-form.

It spread across the entire dimension.

A new death to mark the annals of damnation.

Be'lakor, the daemon god, was dead.

Slain by the Devourer.

This shocking turn stunned countless Chaos entities, evoking rare pangs of sympathy.

But they were distant.

Those within the Veil—

Dozens of Greater Daemons and the watching daemon legions—

Had witnessed it up close. Watched the Devourer torture the Dark Lord.

Burning him from the inside with their most feared weapon.

It was terrifying beyond reason.

Many daemons felt their minds crack—a trauma that would haunt them forever.

At the rift's edge—

The nearby Greater Daemons were seared by the lingering holy light.

Eyes clenched shut, they raised all their warp power to shield themselves—

But the sacred radiation still left their skin blistered and foul-smelling.

As the holy light faded—

The towering figure of the Devourer stood alone before the breach.

And in that moment, the daemons remembered.

They remembered the fear once carved deep into their souls.

The cruelty. The humiliation.

All that long-buried dread came rushing back—

And rooted even deeper.

Eden could see it in their eyes—their terror.

He was satisfied.

It had cost a lot, but his reputation had been restored.

Still, that wasn't enough.

"Oi, clowns—aren't you coming out?"

In the daemons' vision—

The Devourer crooked his finger at them, as if calling dogs.

It was pure provocation.

"You go too far..."

Angrath boiled with rage.

"Even if you've killed the Dark Lord, you can't insult us!"

So many Greater Daemons and a massive daemon army gathered here—

Even a few more Devourers wouldn't stop them!

But before he could finish—

The Devourer's rasping voice came again:

"No one's coming? Then I'm coming in."

BOOM—!

The next moment—

A black shadow blasted through the breach and crashed down.

SMASH!

Angrath couldn't even react before a massive punch slammed into him, drawing a howl of pain.

The Devourer's voice thundered:

"You pathetic worms—you dare challenge me? You think you're Ka'Bandha or something?"

(End of Chapter)

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