Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 239 - 240: Did Old One-Eye Just Glare That Ork to Death?!

"This is bad…"

Standing atop the scouting tower, Eden watched as a swarm of Orks surrounded A'Rey. He couldn't help feeling worried.

Such a concentrated onslaught could overwhelm even Space Marines.

But soon, Eden relaxed.

Through his scope, he saw:

A'Rey showed no hesitation, no defensive posture, simply swinging his power sword in a frenzied melee.

He kept decapitating Orks lunging at him and hanging their heads on the hooks of his exoskeleton armor.

Yet as more Orks closed in, A'Rey lost the space to maneuver. There was no room left to dodge.

Under such circumstances, he ought to be getting hit.

No matter how tough you are, you can't block attacks from every angle.

Surprisingly, many stone axes aimed at A'Rey either missed or landed at odd angles—often hitting other Orks instead.

After several waves, he only suffered minor wounds.

"Big boom—blow 'em all up!"

A group of Ork Boys lit their explosives and charged A'Rey in a suicide attack.

Eden's heart jumped at the sight.

Ork bombs could destroy aircraft; anyone caught in such a blast would be seriously injured.

A'Rey wore no fully sealed armor and had no space to dodge—this could be fatal!

Boom—!

The Ork bombs malfunctioned and detonated prematurely.

Thick smoke cleared, revealing a massive crater.

Many Orks were dead on the spot, bodies piled up in a gruesome heap.

Before Eden could worry, he saw A'Rey climb casually from under the mound of Ork corpses.

They had formed a thick "meat shield," absorbing the explosion's brunt.

By sheer luck—or something more—the bombs had gone off too soon, blowing a gap in the encirclement.

A'Rey seized the opening and dashed through that gap, continuing his assault.

"Hiss…"

Eden took a sharp breath. "Damn, he's really getting away with this?"

He realized he'd underestimated "Immortal A'Rey."

He used to think A'Rey was just good at dodging—like he'd maxed out his evasion skill.

But looking back, it wasn't so much technique as some supernatural favor of Lady Luck.

Some kind of special field…

A luck aura cranked up to eleven, outdoing even the Orks' "blue-lucky" superstition!

Now Eden understood why A'Rey always dared charge in so fiercely.

If he had this level of luck, wouldn't he keep diving in for "seven in, seven out"?

In truth, that luck aura might be stronger than regeneration or resurrection powers.

After all, if you had immortality or revival, you'd still have to endure pain or death at least once.

With A'Rey's luck field, he was practically taking no damage at all.

That was basically unstoppable.

He did wonder what the limits were. In a sealed space with high-intensity bombardment, perhaps there'd be no way to dodge?

Or maybe this wasn't some innate ability but pure chance?

Who knew.

There were countless phenomena in this universe beyond science—prophecy, fate.

Eden decided not to dwell on it, returning his attention to the ground battle.

At that moment, A'Rey clamped his huge mechanical claw over the head of an Ork Nob in crude armor and scorched it with a flamer.

The Ork Nob thrashed in agony, howling until it collapsed.

A'Rey then removed its head and hung it on his exoskeleton rig.

At this point, he was covered in Ork heads—several grizzled Ork veterans plus the heads of many regular Orks, with one Nob dangling there too.

The sight was horrifying.

For the Orks, it was downright terrifying.

When A'Rey rose to face yet another Ork Nob, fear was evident in its eyes.

It lost the courage to fight.

Once an Ork was robbed of that fighting spirit, its strength plummeted. In no time, A'Rey added that Nob's head to his gory collection.

He had now killed two Ork Nob leaders.

Gazing upon that manic human draped in Ork heads, the rest of the greenskins finally felt true fear.

It was no longer just some hazy genetic terror; they had personally witnessed how dreadful he was.

"O-old One-Eye…chops off heads…"

The Ork Boys in front of A'Rey backed away, no longer daring to mob him as before.

"Psychological warfare works like a charm!"

Eden was thrilled. This had been his suggestion to A'Rey—use visual shock to intimidate the Orks.

Switching to psychic vision, Eden observed the Orks' warp-energy field around the battlefield.

He noticed the Ork psychic network had shifted. Deep within that field, a phantom-like image of A'Rey had appeared—especially his glaring crimson eye.

It proved that A'Rey's fearsome image had sunk deep into the Orks' collective consciousness.

Gradually, it would spread to every Ork, seeding them all with terror.

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Before long, that shift manifested physically.

Powered by the Orks' "I reckon this is true" energy, A'Rey—now bristling with Ork heads—grew even stronger, like a walking greenskin slayer!

It was a kind of enchantment or blessing, but only active inside the Ork warp field.

Under A'Rey's leadership, the Space Marines advanced rapidly, punching through to the Orks' midline and pressing on into their rear.

Finally, they caught sight of a massive figure in the back:

"There's the Ork boss…"

Eden too spotted the greenskin leader atop a hulking Ssglo Beast mount, eyes lighting up. "Damn, a mechanical T-rex? I've gotta get my hands on that!"

A'Rey and his warriors had their sights set on the Ork Warlord.

Orks grew stronger with every battle. If the fighting dragged on in a war of attrition, it'd be catastrophic.

Already many Orks who'd killed humans on the battlefield were visibly bigger than before.

If this went unchecked, even if the Orks were eventually wiped out, the human cost would be enormous.

Hence the best tactic: defeat the Ork boss swiftly, shatter their morale, and Eden would then exploit that opening to invade their psychic network, seizing control of the Ork horde—ending the war.

Through the observation scope, Eden watched the Ork Warlord closely.

Seated on its mount, it silently observed the steel tide surging closer…then suddenly, it grinned.

Eden's heart sank. He clearly saw a cunning grin.

Despite their brutish looks, Orks as living war engines had a keen sense of battle, sometimes downright crafty.

Their gods, Gork and Mork, were described as "brutal but cunning" and "cunning but brutal."

High-level Orks epitomized that savage cunning.

He saw the Ork Warlord mutter something, and the battlefield shifted.

A horde of Ork Boys carrying explosives began launching suicide charges to block A'Rey and the others.

Meanwhile, the Warlord tugged on the reins, turning to withdraw with his core troops.

Seeing their boss retreat, many Orks bashed a few more heads in, howled, and followed along in a chaotic wave.

Only about a third remained at the front, fighting desperately. The rest hoisted salvage and pulled back at full speed.

From the battlefield and from within Ore City, faint cheers arose: people celebrating the xenos' retreat.

The brutal aliens had brought them so much pressure.

But Eden furrowed his brow. "They're running already. How devious."

He felt no relief. Instead, worry deepened.

This was the worst-case scenario:

Proof the Ork Warlord had a solid grasp of the battle.

The greenskins would pull back into the depths of the forest. The next fight would be even tougher.

In that dense jungle of colossal trees and the labyrinthine tunnels below, launching a decisive strike would be near impossible.

Worse still, the Orks had just gleaned fresh resources and equipment from the fight. Once they put those spoils to use and upgraded their gear, their next emergence would be far deadlier.

A'Rey evidently realized the same thing.

He ordered the Storm Army to pursue, and aircraft carried out frantic bombing runs on the Orks' retreat route.

But the rearguard Orks used suicide attacks to cover the withdrawal, rendering the efforts barely effective.

Soon, the Orks disappeared into the forest. With trees hundreds of meters tall blocking them, bombing runs had minimal impact.

Even if bombs maimed an Ork—knocking off an arm or leg—after a bit of rest, it'd likely bounce back, lively as ever.

During the chase, some tried setting the forest ablaze. But the towering trees, composed of special, flame-resistant wood, resisted the flames.

Even using up all their chemical fuel barely singed a fraction of the forest—an area covering nearly a third of Kanda's surface.

Eventually, the main force was hindered by the forest, their formation breaking down. Pressing deeper would be too dangerous.

A'Rey recalled his Storm Army, leaving only air units to monitor and carry out harassment bombing runs.

After half a day, those aircraft ran out of fuel and munitions, returning to the Dreamweaver.

...

Ore City, Evening

Inside a temporary command center, Eden sat poring over the war reports.

With the Orks now holed up deep in the forest, they were impossible to locate, let alone strike effectively.

Word came that A'Rey was dispatching scouting teams to hunt down the Ork boss.

It seemed he planned a behind-enemy-lines decapitation strike.

That was the only method left.

And time was short. The Orks were growing stronger by the hour.

The challenge: pinpointing that Warlord's exact location—then dealing with it amid hordes of Orks.

"Savior!"

Ministry of War official Tako rushed in. "We've got word from A'Rey! He's found the xenos leader's tracks and has already led a team out of the city!"

According to the report, the moment A'Rey discovered a lead on the Ork boss, he took all his Space Marines and headed straight for the target.

He planned a night raid on the Ork stronghold.

"Only four hundred troops to handle Orks?" Eden was skeptical.

Even if the Orks had been bloodied in the previous battle, there were likely still well over a million in their lair.

If those four hundred couldn't secure a swift victory and got surrounded, they might never get out.

That was riskier than their earlier infiltration of the Genestealer hive…

"But if the psychological tactics worked, it might just be possible…"

He decided to trust his unstoppable, lucky madman.

While Eden pondered, Barrel appeared, carrying a big metal crate and waddling in.

Eden blinked. "What are you doing here?"

If A'Rey took everyone on a night raid, Barrel —being a top fighter—should have gone along, right?

Barrel scratched his head:

"My power armor got blown to bits by those damned xenos. No time to fix it, and there's no spare that fits me.

So A'Rey wouldn't let me go…"

Eden understood.

Barrel's armor was a special custom model; he couldn't just wear someone else's.

"So why are you here instead of getting some rest?"

"I came to cook you a feast," Barrel announced, setting down the metal crate with a clang. He raised his eyebrows. "Savior, wouldn't you like to try Ork xenos meat?"

"Huh…"

Eden grimaced, then gave a small nod. He was actually a little hungry.

Barrel was the realm's top chef; anything he cooked was delicious.

And after all, they'd eaten demon flesh before—what's a little Ork meat?

Of course, Eden told himself it was just rationalizing.

He was well aware that the devouring aspect hidden within the Little Sun's nature subtly nudged him toward such consumption.

But it was mild and fully under control. If he truly wanted, he could suppress it.

In this universe, having a few eccentricities was normal, ignoring those who'd gone insane and fallen to Chaos.

Even the God-Emperor's loyal sons, the revered Blood Angels, harbored little quirks—like a pronounced bloodthirst. Some Blood Angel successors were practically vampires, drinking human blood, yet still lauded as heroes of the Imperium.

At least Eden would never harm humans or allied species. If it was alien or heretical, though? Tasting them was fair game.

No better way to express the Imperium's hatred of xenos than literally devouring them. If xenos dared eat humans, he'd eat them back.

Maybe he'd develop a xenos-based cuisine assembly line. Let's see which side ends up fearing whom.

"Right then."

Eden added, "Cook it well—lots of seasoning."

"Got it!"

Barrel nodded eagerly, pulling pieces of prepared Ork meat from the crate.

Then he lit a fire with a whoosh and began grilling it with great enthusiasm.

As Eden propped his chin on his hand, watching Barrel busy himself as the "BBQ Master," his mind wandered to A'Rey and the others.

Have they reached the Ork stronghold yet…?

...

The Forest, Ork Main Base

Boom, boom, boom—

Explosions tore through the night sky as fire lit the darkness.

The entire Ork encampment was in chaos. Space Marines were slaughtering panicked greenskins everywhere.

Snotlings wailed from all corners.

"It's Old One-Eye who likes chopping off our heads!"

An Ork Boy tremblingly gripped a stone axe, terrified at the scene before him.

All the Orks in camp now knew of the dreadful Old One-Eye, and they all feared him.

In a way, Eden's plan had succeeded marvelously.

Upon retreating to their lair, any Ork that had witnessed A'Rey's fearsome deeds told the others about him.

By the time night fell, the tale of "Old One-Eye" had infected the entire camp.

Rumor said that crimson-eyed human was unstoppable—no matter how the Orks attacked, he wouldn't die. Worse, he'd chop off their heads and hang them on himself. He'd already taken the heads of many Ork bosses!

It scared the life out of Ork Boys, while even scarred Ork Veterans and Nobz shuddered.

Unrest rippled across the camp, and not even Warlord Steelclaw was fully prepared for the mounting panic.

He, too, felt deep apprehension toward Old One-Eye.

And so, in the dead of night—while the Orks were still trembling—Old One-Eye dropped straight from the sky, leading his warriors. Many Orks were cut down before they could gather a proper defense.

The camp was in turmoil. They couldn't form any coherent line.

Right now, emboldened by the Orks' "I reckon" energy, A'Rey had grown even stronger, his crimson eye gleaming.

He fought the Ork Warlord Steelclaw with wild ferocity, blow for blow, flesh on flesh.

"Damn you, human—die!"

Steelclaw swung his giant metal pincers in a fury. He still couldn't comprehend how these mere four hundred humies had dared assault his entire camp.

But he had to admit, Old One-Eye was every bit as terrifying as the rumors claimed.

Their battle demolished everything nearby: big machines, towering trees. Even the enormous trees snapped under the force of their collisions.

A'Rey spotted an opening, pinned Steelclaw to the ground, and unleashed a frenzy of punches.

Steelclaw howled. A look of dread flashed in its eyes as blood streamed from its face, nearly all its teeth knocked out.

Countless Orks around them watched in shock, too afraid to intervene.

"Waaaagh…"

At last, a scar-faced Ork veteran mustered his courage, charging in with a massive hammer and swinging at the back of A'Rey's unguarded skull.

A direct hit could be devastating.

But A'Rey turned around, glaring furiously with his single crimson eye.

His face, stained with Ork blood, was utterly terrifying in that moment.

"Waaah!"

The scar-faced Ork froze, overwhelmed by indescribable fear. Its eyes rolled back, and it dropped like a stone, unconscious.

"He's dead! Scar-face got killed by the glare!"

The Orks panicked, fear escalating. They flung down their weapons, fleeing in all directions.

And with that, a new legend was born: Old One-Eye could kill Orks just by glaring!

(End of Chapter)

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