In the wilderness of the Nord Kingdom, Emperor Karl Franz led his Imperial army swiftly forward. The Elector Counts had reacted quickly, and with provisions properly allocated, the Imperial army advanced rapidly. They would reach Midgaard Haven by tomorrow.
The Emperor himself rode his Pegasus, contemplating the next steps. He didn't always use his griffon mount, Deathclaw, preferring his Pegasus for regular travel.
"Hurry, knights. Midgaard Haven is surrounded by barbarians and could fall at any moment. We can't let thousands die in front of us." Karl Franz urged his five hundred Reiksguard knights.
"Of course, Your Majesty! We are moving as fast as we can," the Reiksguard knights responded enthusiastically.
Karl Franz smiled slightly, aware of his impatience. The Reiksguard was composed of the most elite knights from his personal domain, and being a member was a family honor. Besides the Imperial Griffon Knights and the forty-strong War Council Guard, the Reiksguard was the most elite force under the Emperor's command.
The knights couldn't abandon the infantry and artillery, even within the Empire's borders, as such actions would be perilous.
The Empire might cover vast territories, but much of it consisted of dense forests, mountains, and uninhabitable swamps. The Empire was essentially a federation centered around cities and villages, with roads as its lifelines.
The Emperor's direct domain, Reikland, was a vast and fertile plain. The issues with bandits and Beastmen had greatly diminished after the Emperor's continuous campaigns and purges. But other Elector Counts faced different challenges. For example, the province of Middenland was large but mostly covered by the Drakwald Forest, with limited land and population under the Elector Count's control.
The Supreme Patriarch of the Colleges of Magic, Balthasar Gelt, rode a Pegasus beside the Emperor. The Alchemist had been conversing frequently with the Emperor throughout the journey.
Compared to the fiery temper and occasional fire-breathing of the current Supreme Patriarch, Teclis, the Alchemist's logical and meticulous thinking was more appealing to the Emperor, often providing constructive suggestions and advice.
"Over four thousand barbarians have besieged Midgaard Haven. The Bear Tribe is known for their high morale and siege prowess. They attacked the port without warning. What insights do you have, Great Alchemist?" Karl Franz asked, knowing he must not appear too anxious.
"There must be a purpose behind this. It could be a directive from the Chaos Gods or a strategic objective. Generally, the Chaos Gods' directives are chaotic and illogical because they themselves embody chaos. So, if Brig has a purpose, it could be to control the port, seize its wealth, and return to the northern wastelands by ship," Gelt's metallic voice paused before continuing, "However, events from a few days ago have made me rethink my assumptions."
"What happened? Can you enlighten me, Great Alchemist?"
"Certainly, Your Majesty… Well, two days ago, I sensed a massive magical disturbance near Midgaard Haven. It likely caught the attention of the Chaos Gods." Gelt's tone revealed his keen interest in the matter. But with the Alchemist's face hidden behind a mask, the Emperor could only gauge his emotions from his voice.
Karl Franz knew these spellcasters were akin to ticking time bombs—yet humanity needed their power. That volatile Chaos energy, when harnessed by them, could be turned into potent magic.
The Emperor, just, merciful, courageous, and decisive, did not shun these spellcasters. Everyone struggled to survive under the threat of Chaos; no one was exempt. He continued, "If we can repel Brig and his barbarian soldiers, you should have time to investigate what happened."
"We will undoubtedly defeat the Bear Tribe, Your Majesty. The question is whether Midgaard Haven will fall. In my opinion, the garrison might not hold until we arrive. The town's fall is only a matter of time. However... our scouts report that the famous White Wolf Knight, 'Big Hammer' Ryan, is also in Midgaard Haven, leading the defense. If he is as formidable as legends say, the town may yet have a chance."
"Ryan? I remember he is Ivan's godson, renowned in the Empire's north… but he belongs to the Ulric faith!" Karl Franz hesitated. "At this sensitive time, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to summon him."
"Indeed, Your Majesty," Gelt nodded.
The Empire's north and south were deeply divided by religious differences. The northern provinces predominantly worshipped the Northern Gods, especially the Ulric and Taal faiths. Despite their waning influence, these gods held irreplaceable positions in the hearts of northerners.
In contrast, the southern provinces primarily followed the Church of Sigmar, the Life Church, and the Magic Church. The southern regions had a more favorable climate, fertile lands, and the Emperor's direct domain. Hence, these churches held electoral power, unlike the northern churches, furthering the divide between the north and south.
After ruling as Emperor for fifty years, Ludwig Friedrich, the "Savior," abdicated and disappeared. His brother Heinz had a strong chance of succeeding him, but Heinz was a devout follower of Ulric. Knowing his ascension could grant the Ulric Church electoral power, the three southern churches supported Karl Franz's grandfather, Leopold Franz Friedrich, leading to Heinz losing the throne.
This deepened the rift between the northern and southern churches. Upon his coronation, Karl Franz had carefully balanced these delicate relations with political acumen and diplomatic skill.
"This might be an opportunity, Your Majesty. Your army will rescue this White Wolf Knight, and it will be perfectly natural for you to meet him. No one can criticize such noble conduct," Gelt advised. The Emperor readily accepted the Alchemist's sound plan. "You're right."
After a day's march, the disciplined Imperial army quickly set up camp and deployed defenses. The Reiksguard knights assembled and adjusted their formations with mesmerizing precision.
Scouts soon brought new information. "Your Majesty, we have new intelligence!"
Karl Franz took the wax-sealed letter from a Reiksguard knight. Despite the long march, the Emperor showed no signs of fatigue, thanks in part to his extraordinary constitution and his dedication to humanity and the Empire. Many who had met the Emperor likened him to the sun, burning himself to warm others. His people adored him for his military background and his short but impactful reign.
After glancing at the letter, Karl Franz enthusiastically slapped his thigh, the sound resonating off his Dwarven-crafted "Silver Seal" armor. "Magnificent!"
"What is it, Your Majesty?" Gelt approached, staff in hand. "May I share in your joy?"
The Emperor handed the letter to Gelt. "It's from Ryan. He killed Brig in a champion duel! The Bear Tribe is defeated. I never thought Nord would produce such a hero!"
"In that case, Your Majesty, our plan can be adjusted. The pressure on Nord is greatly reduced. We can quickly move to the northern coast to ambush the barbarian army," Gelt suggested.
"Gelt, have you heard the story of the first Knight King, Arthur?" The Emperor, pleased with the successful battle, relaxed. His army could now restock in Midgaard Haven and prepare to ambush the barbarians on the coast.
"I have, Your Majesty." Gelt nodded. The Emperor took out some buttered bread and gulped down Bugman's beer, while Gelt only ate meat. The metallic scraping sound of the Alchemist's movements made the Emperor uncomfortable. "You mean the tale of the first Duke of Bordeleaux, Marcus?"
"Let us recount the legendary tale of King Arthur! After his ninth victory, Arthur and his knights rode north, traveling through the shadows of Arden Forest for days before reaching the once-elven city-state, now the forest city and port of L'Anguille," Karl Franz began, reciting the epic as if it were a poem. "Arthur left some knights to rest while he led his army to confront the orc horde ahead…"
"But Arthur's hopes were dashed. The great port was attacked by northern barbarians. The resting knights launched a stormy assault, fighting day and night. Thousands of savages were killed or driven into the sea, but the ruthless enemy fought on, seeking the favor of their bloody gods. In his frustration, Marcus, Duke of Bordeleaux, stood up, pointing at the Chaos champion, Svengar the Fallen Lord of Skaarling, and challenged him," Gelt continued the tale. "Win against me and claim victory, or leave now!"
Karl Franz nodded, picking up the story. "For honor, Svengar couldn't refuse the challenge. Many brave warriors had died at Svengar's bloody hands, but Marcus felt no fear, knowing the Lady was with him. The warriors met atop the lighthouse, fighting on foot. The clouds roared, the storm raged, and heaven and earth seemed to cheer for the duel. The elements subtly assisted, their eerie glow illuminating Svengar's twin hammers. They fought fiercely, the clash of metal ringing out, heard clearly even from below. In the end, Marcus broke through his enemy's defense with a mighty blow, both tumbling onto the rocks below. Svengar fell, and the Norsemen fled to their cold homeland. That was the tenth great victory."
"How similar it is to this epic! I have a feeling this is the beginning of many legendary tales for this young man," the Emperor concluded. "With any luck, we'll meet him tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The next day, the elite Imperial army arrived at Midgaard Haven. They were greeted by proud and hopeful citizens, led by Count Albert. The
count's forces were heavily damaged, and everyone bore injuries, but they were filled with honor and conviction.
The Emperor did not see Ryan among the crowd. "Where is the Nord hero who won the champion duel? Bring him out; I wish to see him."
"Regrettably, Your Majesty, Ryan is not here," Albert shook his head.
"Is he injured?"
"No, he sustained only minor injuries, nothing serious. However, after last night's celebration, Mr. Ryan had another task. He boarded a ship for Marienburg late at night," Albert explained.
"Marienburg… I see." Karl Franz thought that Marienburg wasn't far from the Imperial capital, and one could reach it quickly by sailing down the Reik River. "It seems my luck is not so good."
After days of marching, the Imperial army set up camp in the city.
That night, under a sky full of stars, Balthasar Gelt, dressed in a golden cloak and holding his staff, ventured deep into the manor. Concerned that the Emperor might be harmed by magical energy, Gelt had declined the Emperor's request to join him.
"Your safety determines the fate of the world, Your Majesty. You are the Empire." This was the Alchemist's reasoning, and Karl Franz had reluctantly agreed.
The manor had new inhabitants. Gelt's arrival was met with "enthusiasm." As he faced the charging ghouls, a light wave of his staff turned them into statues.
Exactly the same, Gelt soon found the hidden entrance to the basement.
Sensing the remnants of immense energy in the air, Gelt's curiosity grew. He wanted to know what had transpired in this basement.
He found only a ruined relic of the Old Ones.
Did something go wrong with the Old Ones' creation?
"Who goes there?!"
Suddenly, Gelt sensed extreme danger behind him. Without hesitation, he pulled a scroll from his robe and tore it open. A golden hound, as tall as a man and over fifteen feet long, emerged from the scroll and charged at the intruder.
Sixth-circle spell, Summon Golden Hound!
The intruder flashed with golden light, and the hound disintegrated into dust before it could even yelp. A towering figure appeared in the basement, the cold golden light illuminating the entire room.
"Who are you?!"
This is the promised second update. I'm exhausted. I also feel sympathetic towards Gelt. He tirelessly serves the Empire, only to be suspected and eventually forced to join the undead. He was ultimately betrayed and killed. It's a tragic tale.
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