Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 207 - 208: The Despicable and Shameless Follower of the Marked One

Ka'Bandha was desperately convincing himself, almost to the point of self-hypnosis.

Great Blood God, it's not that I was weak—it's that the enemy was too strong!

No matter what, he could not reveal the truth.

More importantly, he could not show weakness before Khorne or the gathered daemons.

Otherwise, he would become a disgrace.

After thinking it through, Ka'Bandha slowly raised his heavy head, his eyes flickering with a cold and ruthless light.

His massive daemonic form began to radiate an overwhelming presence, suffocating in its intensity.

This wasn't just physical oppression—it was a mental dominance, an aura of sheer power.

Simply put—aside from the Blood God, he was the most arrogant one in this hall.

An overwhelming display of dominance!

Seeing this, Angrath and the other daemons were momentarily stunned.

Wasn't he utterly defeated? Then why did he look even more arrogant than if he had won?!

There was no denying it—Ka'Bandha's presence, combined with the lingering Marked One's energy within him, gave him an unparalleled air of intimidation among the daemons.

Even Khorne himself, seated upon the Brass Throne, showed a flicker of surprise.

His fury had been prepared to crush Ka'Bandha mercilessly, but seeing his defiant posture, the urge to punish him lessened slightly.

After all, among Khorne's followers, such arrogance was rewarded.

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The most savage, the most ruthless—these were the ones who gained Khorne's favor.

Even slaughtering one's own kind in combat was acceptable, so long as it resulted in more death and destruction.

Take Skulltaker, for example—he had slain two Exalted Bloodthirsters in a single duel, binding their souls into his axe.

As a result, he became one of Khorne's most favored champions.

But Skulltaker's arrogance had grown too great.

He had been deceived by Tzeentch, leading him to strike at Khorne himself.

His mighty blow, capable of splitting mountains and rivers, left nothing but a small crack on Khorne's Brass Helm.

Enraged, Khorne shattered his mind, stripped him of reason, and cast him out of the Blood God's domain.

Now, Khorne turned his gaze toward Ka'Bandha, his divine sight noting the lingering energy of the Marked One clinging to him.

It was... unsettling.

His voice, ever filled with boiling fury, resounded through the great hall:

"Tell me what happened."

The gathered daemons all turned to Ka'Bandha, their gazes locking onto him.

But at this moment, Ka'Bandha no longer feared them.

He had fully embraced his circumstances.

With a victorious stance, he walked toward the Brass Throne, radiating overwhelming confidence.

The daemons instinctively stepped aside, clearing a path for him.

Among them, such an act signified submission.

Ka'Bandha strode forward until he stood before Angrath, locking eyes with him.

His cold, brutal gaze bore into him.

"You are in my way."

"Ka'Bandha!"

Angrath's voice burned with fury.

But Ka'Bandha stepped forward again, his aura radiating menace, forcing Angrath to momentarily hesitate.

With a snort, Angrath stepped aside.

It couldn't be helped—the energy of the Marked One was utterly revolting to daemons.

And this was pure, concentrated energy, directly drawn from the Golden Sun itself—without any intermediaries or dilution.

In human terms...

It was as if someone had soaked themselves in fermented, highly toxic filth—not just regular filth, but something so potent and unnatural that no sane person would go near it.

And now, Ka'Bandha was drenched in it, standing before Angrath with an unhinged, fearless expression, as if daring him to resist.

No one wanted to deal with that.

So Angrath stepped back.

But in doing so, he had conceded to Ka'Bandha's presence.

"Move aside, weakling!"

Ka'Bandha shoved Angrath aside, stepping into the position of Khorne's highest-favored Bloodthirster.

Inside, he could barely contain his exhilaration.

He had completely turned the situation around—even humiliating Angrath in the process.

A storm of thoughts raced through his mind, as if he had discovered an entirely new way to play the game.

Typically, Khorne's daemons were honor-bound warriors, more like brutal berserkers than schemers.

But now... Ka'Bandha had unlocked a new path.

And whether or not a certain chaotic meddler had nudged things in this direction remained unknown.

From this moment on, a cunning and deceitful Bloodthirster now roamed the galaxy.

A truly ominous development.

Now standing firm, Ka'Bandha suppressed his lingering fear, straightened his posture, and began his performance.

His expression darkened with fury.

"Great Blood God, I was caught in a treacherous trap!

Upon entering the portal, my legions and I were transported to an unknown battlefield.

A follower of the Marked One ambushed us with unimaginable cunning and deception.

He was even stronger than the Primarchs—he could wield the Marked One's energy directly!"

At these words, the gathered daemons recoiled in shock, and even Khorne's expression turned grim.

The humans had produced an even greater threat—one that demanded attention.

Ka'Bandha continued:

"My warriors and I launched a fearless charge into the ambush, but we were overwhelmed by the immense power of the Marked One's energy!"

Ka'Bandha continued to exaggerate, painting the enemy as unfathomably strong, while making himself appear heroic and unbeatable—but simply outmatched by sheer treachery.

"That cunning, deceitful, shameless follower of the Marked One had clearly planned for this encounter.

He sought to use the Warp portal to open a direct conduit, allowing the Marked One's energy to invade our sacred domain!"

The hall erupted into an uproar.

To the daemons, this was akin to having their sacred grounds defiled by the filth of their most hated enemy.

If the enemy succeeded, their domain would become uninhabitable!

But the rising commotion was swiftly silenced by Khorne's furious presence.

"Silence! Continue."

Ka'Bandha, now fully committed to his act, continued spinning his tale.

"Such treachery is beyond intolerable! When the portal opened, and the Marked One's energy poured in, I threw myself forward, blocking the gateway with my own body!"

Hearing this, the daemons looked at him with newfound awe.

The Marked One's energy could erase them from existence—to stand against it was an act of supreme courage.

Ka'Bandha's voice rang with defiance:

"The energy of the Marked One was relentless—I believed I would die.

But I endured.

Because I would never allow such deception and dishonor to succeed!

I destroyed the portal and returned here alive.

This is why I am in this state!"

He raised his head to meet Khorne's gaze, fearless and unwavering.

"Yes, my campaign was a failure, and I accept any punishment!"

Ka'Bandha's words were half-truths and lies, but the energy of the Marked One had truly marked him, making it difficult to discern reality from deception.

Khorne's crimson eyes narrowed.

He gazed at Ka'Bandha, then at the daemons whose eyes now carried faint traces of fear.

With a snort, Khorne released a surge of slaughter-energy, punishing the daemons for their momentary doubt.

Then, raising a hand, he poured the accumulated power of countless wars into Ka'Bandha, purging him of the Marked One's taint.

A new Exalted Bloodthirster was reborn.

Khorne's voice rumbled:

"Then tell me—what is the name of this follower of the Marked One?"

(End of Chapter)

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