Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

Chapter 343 - 344: Blood Angels: Wait, Are These… For Us?!

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"You're right..."

The Chief Librarian nodded. "Though the Baal system is impoverished, the Blood Angels should still be able to afford these. They would never refuse our request."

After all, the Carcharodons had come from light-years away to aid their brothers.

The Blood Angels weren't wealthy—among the larger Chapters, they were considered poor—but even if they couldn't fulfill all the Carcharodons' supply requests, they would surely offer something.

At the very least, it could ease the Chapter's financial crisis a bit.

The Carcharodons had no homeworld to operate from, and no imperial treasury to support them.

They'd even resorted to grey-market dealings with pirate warbands. Their mighty Chapter Master had once fought in illegal duels just to win resources.

Battling Chaos Space Marines in underground arenas.

They were so destitute they were practically fighting in their underwear—locked in a downward spiral: the more they fought, the poorer they became.

Of course—

If the Carcharodons stopped fighting, or cut down on their battles, this problem could be greatly mitigated.

But that was impossible.

The Carcharodons could not stop. They could not abandon their holy mission to exterminate mankind's enemies. Otherwise, there would be no point to their existence.

So—

The moment they received the Blood Angels' call for aid, they came immediately.

The Chief Librarian sighed and continued:

"My lord, we've just completed a full statistical analysis of our spoils and losses... and the results are far from ideal."

Chapter Master Tyberos snapped his head up.

Trembling, he asked,

"By the Emperor… are you saying our losses have grown even worse?"

The Librarian nodded solemnly. "Yes. Even worse than what we suffered in the outer regions..."

Hearing that—

The cold and ruthless Chapter Master's black eyes seemed to lose their soul, as if the heavens had collapsed.

"Sigh... the Carcharodons truly can't go on like this…"

He looked to the Librarian.

"You are the mind and wisdom of our Chapter. I beg you—please, find us a solution!"

"My lord, I've done all I can. Maybe… it's time to appoint another Librarian to manage our finances…" the Librarian replied coldly, plainly giving up.

He had exhausted himself over the Chapter's budget. He hadn't even had time to meditate.

Every day, he struggled to find new sources of revenue, micromanaged expenses, even slashed his own and his acolytes' re

Their yellow power armor bore deep scars, their expressions solemn and grim.

But their presence radiated determination.

The Blood Angels' serfs offered them quiet reverence—mourning their tragic fate in silence.

Word was—

This Chapter had been ambushed in battle, losing most of their warriors, equipment, and even their ship.

Their already desperate situation had worsened further.

Suddenly—

A vast shadow blanketed the entire anchorage and all the war barges.

The change sparked gasps from the serfs.

They looked up—and saw a fleet of unimaginable size. Each vessel was larger than any war barge, gleaming brightly as they cut through the sky.

These steel leviathans brought terror just by their presence.

But soon, the serfs smiled.

They recognized the symbol—

It was the Savior's fleet!

More specifically, his logistics fleet.

Unlike the bewildered successor Chapters, the Blood Angels felt a rush of excitement and anticipation.

They remembered well the Savior's generosity and grandeur during the War of the Underworld System. They knew what these cargo ships carried—

An unimaginable abundance of equipment and supplies.

As for the Redeemer's combat fleet, it had already taken up position around Baal.

Soon—

The serfs activated the orbital defense permissions according to the Savior's authorization.

The Savior's transports were granted unrestricted passage.

As Dante himself had said:

"Leave the Baal system to the Savior. He may do as he pleases—just don't let him blow up the planet."

—

On the surface—

In the middle of a crimson desert, encircling a dead volcano, stood a holy structure larger than a city.

The Blood Angels' fortress-monastery.

Built along the caldera's rim, the "Wall of Arx" was lined with towering defensive bastions.

Above it, the "Angel Dome"—a massive triangular armored glass canopy spanning several square kilometers—was shut tight, reinforced with unbreakable diamond lattice.

Inside the dead volcano, countless chambers had been carved out—each encircled by giant angelic buttresses and radiant with stained glass.

Thousands of glittering windows lined the walls.

Hallways stretched in every direction, allowing unhindered movement across the complex.

In one of the outer storage bays—

First Captain Karlean of the Blood Angels exhaled lightly, rubbing a rag soaked in sacred oil across the leg plating of a large suit of armor.

He stepped back, nodding in satisfaction at the Centurion Devastator suit.

After careful polishing and anointing with sacred oil, the armor shone with holiness and power under the light.

Karlean adored it. He loved the feeling of rampaging through enemy ranks in that suit.

No doubt—it was a masterpiece granted by the Savior. A dream to pilot.

He looked upward and murmured reverently:

"Praise the Savior…"

Behind him, another two hundred Centurion suits stood parked. All of them now belonged to the Blood Angels!

After the War of the Underworld System—

The Savior had noticed how reluctant the Blood Angels were to part with the suits. They cherished them like priceless relics.

So, with a wave of his hand, he gave them all as gifts—leaving the Blood Angels deeply moved.

After everything that had happened, the Savior's reputation among the Blood Angels had reached an almost divine status.

In truth—

These sons of Sanguinius were starting to look more and more like the Savior himself.

Suddenly—

Karlean heard rumbling from outside the warehouse—and received a direct transmission from the Savior's logistics division.

Requesting them to come out and receive supplies.

Karlean jogged to the warehouse doors.

"By the Emperor…"

The sight before him left the First Captain utterly stunned.

The plaza outside was piled with equipment. Row after row of Centurion suits stood tall, stretching beyond the horizon. Beside them were mountains of armor crates—nearly all of them containing Terminator suits.

And another even larger pile consisted of standard armor, bolt rifles, power swords, and other gear—along with an uncountable stockpile of ammunition.

These priceless materials were just dumped on the ground like surplus!

Not far away—

Industrial lifters were still unloading cargo at a frantic pace, pouring more and more equipment onto the surface.

Karlean was dazed, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of it all.

Even the entire Blood Angels armory couldn't match this treasure trove!

"Greetings, Captain Karlean. I'm Furi, the logistics officer in charge of this delivery…"

A soft, gentle voice called out.

Furi stepped forward, holding out a data slate.

"Twenty thousand full Space Marine loadouts and 2,500 Centurion suits have been successfully delivered. Please confirm and sign."

She offered the slate for his approval.

"By the Emperor… by the Savior… all of this… is for us?!"

Karlean screamed in his heart.

The Blood Angels had never known such wealth. Their backs had never stood straighter!

Trying to contain his excitement, he glanced again at the "equipment mountain," gulped, and hesitantly asked:

"Miss Furi… judging by the number of crates… it seems there's more than twenty thousand sets?"

He had done a rough count, and the equipment here clearly exceeded that figure—likely several times over, enough to outfit tens of thousands of Space Marines.

And that wasn't even including the ongoing unloading.

At his words—

Furi frowned slightly, her tone a little tense:

"Did the shipment get mixed up? That would be a serious accountability issue!"

(End of Chapter)

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