Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor
Chapter 348 - 349: Tyranid Nightmare – The Ork-Bug Boss?!

The drifting green mist wasn't some kind of fog or poisonous gas—it was Ork spores.

The Savior had ordered the Ork Research Division to deploy several Ork spore torpedoes on this planet. Upon detonation, they spread spores that polluted the soil and atmosphere of the entire world.

The purpose was to test whether these ultra-enhanced Ork spores could have any effect on the Hive Fleet.

The overwhelming wave of Ork spores triggered Leviathan's traumatic memories. The swarms on the planet's surface even seemed visibly disgusted.

They detested the Orks.

For Leviathan had once fought a brutal war against them.

It was the Octarius War at the end of the 41st Millennium.

At that time, a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Leviathan had steadily pushed into Imperial territory, causing massive damage to the Imperium.

Inquisitor Kryptman had resolved to stop the Tyranids by any means necessary. He claimed not only that he could defeat Leviathan, but also that he could use this opportunity to purge other threats to humanity across the galaxy.

However, his theories were met with disbelief. His peers considered him a radical and a fool.

To prove himself right, Kryptman began a series of controversial actions.

Through cold, ruthless means, he destroyed several worlds to create a massive quarantine zone. Then, he captured Genestealers and directed Hive Fleet Leviathan straight into the Ork Empire of Octarius.

He intended for these two xeno species to annihilate each other.

Thus began a brutal war between two races uniquely capable of rapidly adapting and thriving in constant conflict.

Upon discovering this new feeding ground, Leviathan immediately launched a full-scale invasion of Ork space.

But the Tyranids were utterly stunned—they were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Orks, their intended prey.

No matter how many swarms Leviathan sent, more Orks arrived in even greater numbers, traveling from light-years away to join the fight.

Leviathan found itself on the defensive.

Fortunately, Tyranids had superior tactical instincts. Leviathan quickly shifted strategy from direct assaults to guerrilla warfare.

To think the mighty Tyranids could be forced into skirmishes—only the Orks could do that.

Yet even this wasn't enough.

The Orks conducted massive sweep operations, rooting out Tyranid forces with overwhelming numbers. Leviathan was pushed to the brink of extinction.

It was horrified to realize—

No matter how frantically it consumed biomass and spawned reinforcements, it could not match the Orks' pace of destruction.

Worse still—

The ugly green brutes only grew stronger the more they fought. Even the lowliest Ork Boy could slaughter Tyranids with ease, devouring their flesh in turn.

If this continued, Leviathan would be doomed!

Backed into a corner, Leviathan had to adapt again. It identified a critical weakness in the Ork structure:

Their leadership.

Unlike the unified Tyranid synapse network, the Orks were divided into numerous clans, often at odds with each other.

They only worked together because of the iron grip of a powerful Warlord.

So Leviathan devised a new plan: it began breeding specialized Lictors for assassination missions, tailored specifically to eliminate Ork leaders.

The target—Warboss Tuska Scarface, ruler of the Octarius Ork Empire.

Leviathan laid a perfect trap. Its Lictors struck and successfully assassinated Scarface, tipping the war in the Tyranids' favor.

Just as Leviathan had foreseen—

Without Scarface, a power vacuum formed. Ork Warbosses turned on one another in a violent struggle for dominance.

In the blink of an eye—

The unified Ork Empire shattered. Civil war erupted. Orks died by the millions in internal conflict.

With no one paying attention to the Tyranids, the fractured Ork clans became easy prey.

The unified swarm picked them off one by one.

Soon, the Orks of Octarius were slaughtered like cattle.

Leviathan consumed an unimaginable amount of biomass and grew to become the largest Hive Fleet in the galaxy—an even greater threat to the Imperium.

Without question—

Inquisitor Kryptman's plan had failed. Leviathan emerged stronger than ever, and Kryptman faced the judgment he deserved.

After this war, the Imperium grew even more fearful of the Tyranids. They no longer considered the Orks a comparable threat.

Tyranids were now seen as the deadliest xeno the Imperium had ever encountered.

Humanity's resistance so far had only managed to delay the Hive Fleets.

Without a viable countermeasure—

The galaxy would eventually fall to the swarm.

But that was merely humanity's perspective.

In truth—

The Orks had left a deep scar on Leviathan.

To Leviathan, the Octarius War wasn't a victory. It had been a desperate gamble.

If anything had gone wrong during that assassination—

It would've been obliterated.

Leviathan now considered the Orks an equal threat. Worse, it feared that if Ork intelligence ever evolved further, they would become its greatest nemesis.

To prepare for this future danger, Leviathan began experimenting with Ork genetic material.

It attempted to create new Tyranids using Ork DNA—hoping to fuse the strengths of both species.

After a period of experimentation, the results finally emerged—

A new breed of pale green Tyranids, blending Ork ferocity with Tyranid adaptability.

They were physically powerful and had immense growth potential.

But the results were disastrous.

The Ork-Tyranids were… idiots.

Drooling, dim-witted brutes who did nothing but gorge themselves on biomass, fall asleep, and wake up to smash anything they saw.

They ignored commands.

Worse—they fought each other.

Under the lead of a particularly powerful Ork-Bug hybrid—dubbed the "Ork-Bug Boss"—they even attacked synapse creatures to seize control.

But even when they seized command, they lacked tactics. They couldn't understand basic orders.

Their chaotic behavior disgusted the Hive Mind, which craved order and coordination.

Yet it remained patient. Despite the disorder, these hybrids were technically still under control.

Maybe they could function as a unique shock unit?

But that hesitation cost the Hive Mind dearly.

The Ork-Bug Boss grew stronger, challenged and defeated higher-tier synapse leaders, and started dominating sections of the Hive Fleet.

It seized control of bio-ships, forcing them to spawn more of its kind.

If it advanced another step—

It could become the most powerful synapse creature under the Hive Mind. Meanwhile, large numbers of Tyranids began mimicking Ork behaviors, falling into bad habits.

Entire swarms, now loyal to the Ork-Bug Boss, began challenging established command structures.

Within mere months—

Nearly one-fifth of Leviathan's forces had been absorbed by the Ork-Bug Boss. The Hive Fleet descended into chaos, with much of the biomass being hoarded by these savage hybrids.

Regular Tyranids began starving.

These Ork-Bugs treated their subordinates with brutal cruelty—beating them awake, devouring them at random.

All of this terrified Leviathan.

It realized—

It had created a monstrous abomination.

A beast it could no longer fully control.

If it didn't act immediately—

This thing would rise up and challenge the Hive Mind itself.

Leviathan could feel it—

The way the Ork-Bug Boss looked at it had changed.

There was defiance in its gaze.

An impossible concept in the Tyranid hierarchy…

Yet it was happening.

The Tyranids had utterly failed to control the chaos embedded in Ork genetics. This led the Ork-Bug Boss to challenge the Tyranids' gestalt power structure, directly threatening the authority of the Hive Mind.

To eliminate the threat—

Leviathan's Hive Mind dispatched several Hive Tyrants to kill the Ork-Bug Boss.

But this creature, having fused the strengths of Tyranids and Orks, was monstrously powerful. The Hive Tyrants only succeeded after losing more than half their number.

Afterward, Leviathan ordered a purge.

All Ork-Bugs were to be hunted down and destroyed. Their bodies were not just to be killed, but disintegrated.

Leviathan refused to even absorb their biomass—

Fearing any lingering contamination.

This failed experiment in Ork spore gene research had cost Leviathan approximately one-third of its forces.

A catastrophic loss.

Still, for Leviathan, as long as the threat was dealt with, it could always replenish the swarm.

But the chaos had left a deep imprint in the memory of this Hive Fleet.

Now, once again, in the barren systems near Baal's outer reaches, Leviathan encountered Ork spores—this time seemingly modified.

They were more resilient and carried a dangerously persistent gene-polluting trait.

If they contaminated the spawning pools, the consequences would be disastrous.

Hisss~

Leviathan issued emergency orders: all swarms on the planet's surface were to cease feeding and destroy the reproductive spore sacs.

Then, a full retreat.

It wasn't fear of the Orks—

Even if this new wave of Orks surpassed the power of those in Octarius, Leviathan believed it could still defeat them.

But it wanted absolutely no contact with Ork spores.

It didn't want the stupidity of those accursed hybrids to pollute the intelligence of its hive.

On the planet's surface—

Even the Tyranid organisms felt something akin to disgust.

Many of them had suffered abuse under the Ork-Bug overlords, and the modified spores released by the Savior triggered faint, familiar sensations.

Nearly caused a collective trauma response.

Back in the Ork-Bug days, the bullying had been so brutal it had nearly engraved itself into the Tyranids' genetic memory.

Upon receiving the withdrawal order from the Hive Mind, the swarms immediately began destroying all bio-structures and evacuated through the bio-conduits.

Once the last swarm had departed—

Leviathan's Hive Fleet wasted no time leaving this revolting, corrupted world. The entire fleet vanished from the system.

But it had failed to notice—

During the return from the surface, many Tyranids unknowingly brought back some of the modified Ork spores.

As time passed—

Within the bio-ships receiving the returnees, small green mushrooms began to grow.

These mushrooms appeared to be absorbing Tyranid genetic material…

——

Baal.

Temporary Savior's Sanctuary.

Tens of thousands of high-ranking administrative personnel bustled about, coordinating the vast operations of the Baal system.

At present—

Countless Adeptus Astartes chapters, along with their support fleets, servitors, auxiliaries, and the Savior's own forces—military, logistics, engineering, and civilian—were all converging here.

Billions of Astra Militarum troops were on their way as well.

At the same time, the Savior's dominion had dispatched supplies from dozens of systems.

All of this—

Had transformed this once-barren system into a hive of prosperity and activity.

Under the massive reengineering efforts of construction teams, the various planets were being reshaped into unbreakable fortress worlds.

"Sigh… there's no challenge in this…"

Eden sat behind his desk, playing Minesweeper on a mech-terminal programmed by the Data Sages.

Ding—an incoming file alert popped up.

Back to work.

He closed the game window and opened the latest report: an update on the training progress of the Adeptus Astartes.

"Tyberos, that kid's pretty driven, huh…"

Eden noted the top name on the excellence list—Tyberos of the Carcharodons—and couldn't help but nod in approval.

After the Carcharodons had pledged loyalty and received the Savior's new equipment, Tyberos immediately led his Chapter into intense training, achieving excellent results.

They quickly abandoned their old habit of conserving ammo and perfectly fulfilled the Savior's training protocols, earning top scores in many drills.

This surprised several other Chapters.

In truth—

Tyberos had been losing sleep every night over the ammo expenses.

But he issued a strict order: the Carcharodons must give everything they had to this training.

He wanted the Savior to see their worth.

Not only that—

Tyberos quickly had shrines built within the Chapter, honoring both the God-Emperor and the Golden Sun, the Savior.

Now, the Carcharodons prayed twice daily—one for the Emperor, one for the Savior.

A display of unmatched loyalty.

He got what he wanted.

His sincere faith and active efforts caught the Savior's attention.

Eden listed the Carcharodons as a model unit and awarded them the honor banner so many Chapters longed for.

Of course, it wasn't just symbolic—it came with a substantial material reward.

Eden had discovered that using loyalty and honor as incentives yielded the best results.

Even during training, Astartes strived to be stronger than their peers, to win more recognition.

Eden made a mental note—

If Tyberos could maintain this attitude, he would personally gift him the legendary weapon he had promised.

After all, who wouldn't appreciate a loyal, capable, and politically savvy subordinate?

Other Chapter Masters had much to learn.

Having finished processing the Astartes files, Eden tapped the comms device on his desk—

Signaling the guards to admit the next audience.

"Savior, my lord!"

A Biologis Sage in a red Mechanicus robe hurried in, visibly agitated.

"Following further studies from the Biological Research Division, we've discovered that those genetically modified Ork spores exhibit extreme environmental adaptability and are nearly impossible to eradicate.

"There's a significant risk that the Tyranids could use them for further contamination.

"I advise reconsidering their use—we may need to remove the Ork Spore Torpedoes from Baal's outer perimeter—"

"Too late."

Eden frowned and shook his head.

"According to the latest signal data, the Ork Spore Torpedoes have already been released.

"The Ork Research Division is currently awaiting intel on Tyranid movements and preparing to land on the planet for field studies. Maybe you can go with them…"

Among the Savior's scholars, a rift had formed in the study of xeno-genetics—

The radicals versus the cautious faction.

Fortunately, unlike the Mechanicus of the Imperium, who banned such research outright, these disagreements were merely differences in approach.

Eden had no bias.

Radical or cautious—whichever yielded results would be used.

This Ork spore experiment?

He had approved it himself.

And he wasn't particularly worried that the Tyranids would adapt to Ork genes—no such precedent existed.

If the Tyranids were capable of exploiting Ork DNA…

They would have done so long ago.

There was no need to wait until now.

The modified Ork spores had originated from the Steelfang Tribe. Deep within their genes, Eden's imprint was etched—meaning there was little concern that Leviathan's Hive Mind could truly seize control.

Leviathan wasn't yet strong enough to wrest dominion over another species from the hands of the Little Sun.

Perhaps one day, the true central mind of the Hive beyond the galaxy might be capable of it.

But stopping Leviathan? That much was well within Eden's ability.

In fact—

He was already considering the possibility of capturing some advanced Tyranid genetic material to manufacture new hybrid Orks or bioforms through genetic experiments.

Imagine that—Orks infused with Tyranid DNA, combining the strengths of both races.

Wouldn't that be insanely powerful?

It might even help him optimize his own clone-bugs.

Forty years ago—

High Biologis Moss had created a Tyranid-clone body for him in the deepest levels of the Spire Palace's bio-laboratory.

Back then, Moss had said that only by capturing a high-level Tyranid could they refine the clone's design further.

That hadn't been possible in the past.

But now—perhaps he could get his hands on Leviathan's DNA for study.

As Eden pondered this—

The anxious Biologis Sage bowed and quickly departed the office.

He needed to find his rival at the Ork Research Division so they could study the Ork spores together.

Eden sent Moss his command to proceed with the clone optimization. But before he could relax, another transmission came in.

Ever since arriving on Baal, his workload had increased substantially.

If it weren't for a well-oiled administrative machine, he'd have ended up like Roboute Guilliman—nailed to a desk by bureaucracy.

This new message came from the T'au Empire.

The T'au Ethereal Commander respectfully informed him that their fleet had arrived at the edge of the Baal system, ready to engage at his command.

Eden passed strategic authority over to Tarko and the main command center without further comment.

"WAAAGH—!"

Soon, another projection flickered to life.

As soon as Eden opened it, the screeching howls of Orks filled the room. On-screen, Steelfang stood like a mobile battle tank.

The massive Warboss bowed and grunted:

"Rogga! Our big boy's here!"

As usual, his words were to the point—if a bit lacking in detail.

"Oh great and sneaky-clever Rogg!"

The figure of Ironwrench squeezed into the frame, his lopsided face crammed with a wide grin.

He delivered the report more thoroughly:

"Our WAAAGH-Fortress is finished, boss! We've made it to the outer edge of the Baal system! Just came to pay our respects! Little Tarko already filled us in. We'll follow his orders—an' smash them stinkin' bugs!"

A top graduate of the Loyal Sons Academy's Ork branch, Ironwrench had more or less become Steelfang Tribe's designated strategist.

Fortunately, the Steelfangs had smart Orks like him. Otherwise, coordination would've been a nightmare—especially with personnel outside Eden's direct command.

Eden praised Ironwrench's "sneaky-cleverness."

He had no doubts about the Steelfangs' combat effectiveness.

He'd studied the records of the Octarius War in depth, and concluded that Orks were a warrior race on par with the Tyranids—

They simply lacked intelligence.

But now, the Steelfangs had bred multiple "Ork Big-Brains." That shortcoming was being addressed.

And as long as he lived, the Orks would remain unified under his banner.

He had no doubt that they'd achieve brilliant results in the coming war.

Having finished the briefing, Eden ended the communication.

With that, the key components of his space-based military forces were assembled: the Redeemer Fleet, the support fleets of the Astartes Chapters, the T'au fleet, and the Steelfangs' WAAAGH-satellites.

As for the Astra Militarum—

Their small-scale troop transports weren't much use in space combat.

Their job was simply to make it to Baal alive.

Fortunately, the Savior's domain had dispatched supermassive troop carriers and Redeemer ships to intercept and assist them.

Eden reviewed the situation on Baal.

The construction of fortress defenses was nearly complete.

The Storm Army, numerous Astartes Chapters, Redeemer Fleet, T'au fleet, and Steelfang Tribe had all taken their positions.

The Astra Militarum would arrive within days.

Now, the only one missing was his half-brother from the Warp—

Ka'Bandha, the Bloodthirster.

But there was no rushing that one.

The Think Tanks had already completed the Warp-summoning ritual platform on one of Baal's moons.

They were simply waiting for Ka'Bandha to show up—so they could summon him there to fight the Tyranids.

For the Emperor.

Then, Eden remembered—there was still one more reinforcement yet to arrive:

The fleet of Lord Commander Roboute Guilliman.

But that one was still drifting in the Warp, with no updates and no hope of timely arrival.

He'd given up expecting him.

After all, big brother Guilliman was always late.

If he made it in time to clean up the aftermath, that would already be a miracle...

Eden looked up slightly—

Staring at the massive star map projection hovering above. It showed the locations of all friendly fleets—and the last known position of Hive Fleet Leviathan.

Suddenly—

The icon representing Leviathan vanished from the outer Baal system.

They had lost its signal again.

Since the Stygies Campaign, Leviathan had grown more cunning.

Not only had it split into numerous splinter tendrils, but it had also developed advanced stealth capabilities, making it even more difficult to track.

Now it could launch ambushes from anywhere.

Making preemptive defenses nearly impossible.

Eden grew concerned for the Astra Militarum convoys.

He hoped Leviathan wouldn't target them.

That was billions of lives—

A key part of his defense line.

He could feel it.

The shadow of war was creeping closer.

The great battle was coming.

Hive Fleet Leviathan had devoured countless Imperial worlds and exterminated trillions of humans. Its sins were beyond measure.

But this time—

Humanity, the T'au, the Orks, and even daemons were united.

Such a loyal alliance.

If they didn't crush Leviathan until it shit itself—

He wouldn't rest easy!

——

Baal System – Deep Space

A small Astra Militarum transport fleet cruised at maximum velocity—

Headed for Baal.

The shadow of Tyranid invasion had already fallen across the system.

These humble troop transports had no warp drives.

They could only rely on primitive propulsion to deliver their cargo—millions of Guardsmen—to the battlefield.

The fleet had been hastily assembled.

The Imperium had scraped together every available unit and stuffed them into transports to reinforce Baal.

Whether they would arrive on time—

Or be ambushed along the way—

Was no longer in anyone's hands.

Imperial High Command believed—

In such a colossal war, if even a third of these billions made it to Baal alive, that would be a victory.

As for making it back alive—

Only the Emperor could help them now.

Aboard the command ship, in the officer's quarters—

The luxurious compartment included a bedroom, office, dressing room, washroom, and dedicated servants.

In the past—

Its owner would be sipping vintage wine from across the Imperium in the lounge.

But now—

He had no such mood.

The young commander of the Astra Militarum—one of the Imperium's finest—was kneeling before the Emperor's shrine:

"Under the witness of the stars, I, a loyal subject of the Imperium, offer this solemn prayer to You,

O Emperor, Master of Mankind—

Guide me across the stars.

Let Your divine light illuminate my path.

May I arrive safely at my destination under Your protection.

May Your will be with me until my mission is complete.

For the Emperor.

For the Imperium!"

Through subtle signs, the young officer had already sensed—

The terrible fate that awaited him.

But he accepted it willingly.

He only hoped that he and his soldiers would survive the journey to the battlefield—so that, as the Emperor's coin, they could serve their purpose with value.

In truth—

This young commander had already pulled some strings to have a letter sent back to Holy Terra.

A final letter.

A last will.

He had known from the moment he accepted the order to participate in this horrific war that survival was no longer in the cards.

...

Middeck Barracks Area

Armed voidsman Ely patrolled the rust-covered corridors, lasgun in hand.

He had to stay alert and prepared to respond to any conflict or threat.

Every ship in the Imperial fleet had its own contingent of armed voidsmen—

Tasked with dealing with internal threats aboard the vessel.

Once a voidsman was assigned to a specific ship, there was no going back.

From that day forward—

He was part of the ship, and the ship was part of him.

Armed voidsmen participated in a solemn induction rite, drinking from a fluid extracted from the ship itself—spiced machine-oil—so that the ship's essence would flow in their veins.

Just like they flowed through the ship's artery-like corridors and tunnels.

They swore an oath to slay any who would endanger the vessel or its commanding officers.

Typically—

Once assigned, a voidsman would never leave that ship again, not until retirement or death.

And those who lived to retire were the rarest of all.

The dangers aboard these vessels were no less deadly than those on the ground.

Long-term warp travel brought its own horrors: twisted mutants, Genestealers hiding in decks and ducts, engine rooms full of haunting anomalies…

Even dangerous stowaways.

Even daemons.

"Hey, did you hear the rumor?"

Ely suddenly asked his fellow voidsman beside him.

"They say after we reach the destination, everyone is going planetside. No return orders. The command's coming tomorrow.

And not just us—

Even the deck slaves who mop the floors are getting issued lasguns.

They're going down with us…"

Ely had always believed he'd either retire safely from this ship or die in one of its onboard conflicts.

He had never imagined he'd be forced to disembark midway.

What the hell was going on?

This strange and unsettling news left him confused.

"Quit listenin' to garbage rumors."

His partner didn't take it seriously.

"That crazy old coot near the chapel keeps saying there's a monster with red skin, long tongue, and horns living down in the ship's underdeck.

Like hell those things exist."

The two voidsmen's footsteps echoed and faded as they continued their patrol—

Their conversation trailing off into the shadows of the corridor.

From inside a sealed passageway—

A rough, growling voice muttered in the darkness:

"Tch… that brat wasn't talkin' 'bout no ghost story…

Sounds like he meant a Bloodletter, one o' them daemon brats…"

(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!]

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.