Ryan immediately went downstairs to open the door.
As the door swung open, a dozen Griffon Knights stood at the entrance, with Duke Ivan Ferdinand of the Griffons, clad in a suit of dark gold plate armor, his handsome face framed by flowing black hair. He held the Griffon's true silver holy sword at his waist, standing at Ryan's doorstep, smiling at him.
Besides him, a young knight in his thirties, also dressed in Griffon full-body armor, stood next to the Duke. Upon seeing Ryan emerge, he cheerfully shouted, "Oh! Ryan! It's been too long!"
"Oh! Anton!" Ryan rushed out excitedly, embracing the young man warmly, "It really has been too long, Ryan!"
Count Anton Ferdinand, the Duke's eldest legitimate son, was thirty-three this year.
After their embrace, Ryan turned to face his godfather, "It's been a while, Ivan!"
"Indeed, it has been a while, my godson!" The Duke opened his arms for a hug, embracing his godson and protege, "Ivan! I didn't expect the Empire to send you."
"Kid, you've been making big moves lately; even His Majesty asked about you, saying how impressive my godson is," the Duke whispered in Ryan's ear, slightly teasing, "But you, you little rascal, becoming the Lady of the Lake's Chosen, really embarrasses me."
"Erm..." Ryan felt guilty and awkward, knowing he had let down two people by pledging allegiance to the Lady of the Lake: his foster father Norman, a White Wolf Knight who had guided Ryan on that path, and his godfather Ivan. Norman had introduced Ryan to the path of the White Wolf Knights.
Godfather Ivan had visited Nord when Ryan was a child and, seeing his remarkable talent and virtues, formally took Ryan as his godson at the age of eight, personally instructing him in military knowledge and cultural literacy.
Now, as Ryan has become the Lady of the Lake's Chosen, indicating his future inclusion into the core of Bretonnia, it seemed somewhat like betraying the Duke, hence Ivan's dissatisfaction and Ryan's guilt.
"Anyway, let's talk about this later. Ryan, come with me to the city for a walk!" The Duke patted Ryan's shoulder heavily.
"Sure!"
Ten minutes later, Ryan rode his spirited warhorse through the streets of Marienburg.
In the sky, several griffons soared through the clear winter sky above Marienburg, gliding and roaring freely. Whenever they neared the ground, they would cause screams and admiration.
On the ground, Griffon Knights marched through the streets in their plate armor, holding lances, with the Empire's double-headed eagle and the Griffon Knightly order's flags flying high.
Leading the parade were several griffons, a sight so rare that even Marienburg's nobility had only seen them in the Empire's royal zoos. The legendary Griffon Knights, each a legendary warrior, exuded a powerful aura, followed by dozens of half-griffons, less majestic than full griffons but still significantly larger than ordinary warhorses.
Marienburg was in a frenzy, with citizens rushing out to watch. As Ryan and Ivan joined the procession, the crowd had grown dense, and the Iris Guard had to be fully deployed to maintain order.
The sight of such an elite force, unknown to Marienburg's citizens, left them stunned. Despite the cold February air, the Griffon Knights and their mounts held their heads high, their sharp lances pointed skyward, their solemn faces exuding a soul-deep majesty and dominance. The procession of fierce griffons and formidable half-griffons advanced, each Knight's face as stoic as a sculpture.
This was a display of true military might, requiring over ten years to train each Griffon Knight, a force only the Empire could afford.
As the knights moved, their formation worked seamlessly like gears, ready to crush any enemy in their path. This overwhelming presence humbled even the Iris Guard, who usually lorded over the citizens, now meek in comparison.
This was the Griffon Knightly Order, one of the Old World's three great knightly orders, a testament to the Empire's ultimate power.
"Our Empire's army!" The citizens of Marienburg were spellbound, their initial shock turning into cheers and fervent shouts, resonating through the city as the Griffon Knights moved on.
What were greenskins compared to the arrival of the Duke of Griffons? The Empire's Griffon Knights had come to aid Marienburg!
The Empire had not forsaken them!
While the citizens were purely joyful, Marienburg's nobility and merchants were mixed in their reactions, hopeful yet wary of the Empire's intentions.
The nobles were surprised the Empire had dispatched its most prized Griffon Knights. With such support, Marienburg's safety seemed assured, but now the question was, what did the Empire want in return?
Duke Ivan, riding his mighty griffon, led the knights, his presence alone causing Iris Guard cavalry to fall from their mounts, the mercenaries looking shamefully at their horses cowering before the griffon.
The Duke smiled disdainfully at the soldiers and mercenaries, then, taking to the air, he directed his griffon towards Marienburg's city hall.
At the city hall, both chambers of Marienburg's parliament awaited the Duke's arrival, their anxiety palpable upon hearing of his leading the Griffon Knights.
Instead of a grand entrance, a massive flag shot from the sky, landing with a "boom" in front of the city hall, causing a dust cloud and forcing the nobles to retreat awkwardly.
The flagpole, bearing the Empire's golden double-headed eagle, stood firmly planted in the ground, symbolizing the Empire's presence. The Duke's griffon descended majestically before the gathered nobility, "Good afternoon, gentlemen!"
As the Duke dismounted, the Griffon Knights filled the square, marking a bold statement.
"What exactly do you intend, Duke Ferdinand?" Baron Greymire of the upper chamber approached, red-faced and indignant, "This is an insult! Have you no sense of etiquette?"
"Etiquette?" the Duke retorted, unbothered by the baron's accusation, "Which etiquette have I violated, pray tell?"
Pointing at the disruptive entry, Greymire exclaimed, "Such actions are tantamount to a declaration of war!"
"Oops," the Grand Duke of Marienburg, Van der Goltz-Schultz, realized Greymire's impulsiveness, "Greymire has overstepped."
"A declaration of war? Baron Greymire, I offer you one last chance to choose your words carefully," Ivan said, unphased, addressing the nobles, "Tell me, gentlemen, to which country does Marienburg belong?"
Silence fell among the assembly, Greymire's face turning pale as he realized his mistake.
"Speak up! According to the founding charter by Emperor Ludwig, Marienburg has self-governance, but! To which country does it belong? I await your answer," Ivan pressed, towering over Greymire, "As the Emperor's appointed Griffon General, raising the Empire's banner on its soil, what say you, Baron Greymire?"
Ivan's mere presence and sharp gaze hinted at his ascension to a holy realm, his actions casting a shadow over the assembly, demonstrating the power at his disposal.
As the Griffon Knights and their mounts took the square, the nobles and assembly members paled, recognizing the Empire's warning.
Wealth could not dictate everything, especially not to Marienburg's elite, who realized they stood no chance against the Duke and his knights, even with all their private armies and guardians.
Sighing, the Grand Duke approached, affirming Marienburg's loyalty, "Greymire was confused. Marienburg has been part of the Empire since Charlemagne, always."
"On behalf of Marienburg's assembly, I welcome Duke Ivan Ferdinand," he declared, breaking the tension. Forced to acknowledge their allegiance, the assembly reconfirmed Marienburg's status as an inseparable part of the Empire.
Ryan and Anton, watching from afar, were amused by the Duke's display of power, "My godfather is as formidable as ever."
"These merchant princes have grown too arrogant. My father intends to put them in their place," Anton remarked, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light, "The Empire has stabilized under the new Emperor, and it's time for a lesson."
"Ah, well," Ryan sighed, then asked, "So, the reinforcement is led by my godfather?"
"Yes, by the Emperor's order," Anton confirmed, playfully challenging Ryan, "You've been making a name for yourself. I'm tempted to spar with you."
"As long as you don't team up with your griffon against me," Ryan joked, sensing the threat from Anton, the Duke's son, slightly less powerful but not by much.
Laughing together, they pondered the reinforcements' size, crucial against the greenskins amassing at Gint's mine, predicted to exceed thirty thousand.
"We brought three thousand," Anton admitted, somewhat embarrassed.
"Three thousand? Are you joking?" Ryan was astounded. No matter how elite, the number seemed too small.
"The spring planting limits our conscription, and recent upheavals in the Rick region restrict troop movements," Anton explained, hinting at negotiations between his father and the merchant princes determining further reinforcements.
Understanding, Ryan realized the terms of these negotiations would dictate the flow of additional support.
The subsequent discussions at Marienburg's city hall between the Duke, Imperial diplomats, and assembly members were candid, efficient, and constructive.
The Empire's demands were steep:
Marienburg must reduce its trade deficit with the Empire by at least 80% over the next 20 years.
Goods from the directly Imperial-ruled Rick region to Marienburg will enjoy tax benefits, pending negotiation.
Marienburg must open its market to Imperial investment without obstruction.
Marienburg will bear all military expenses and pay at least fifty thousand gold marks for the deployment.
The Empire guarantees Marienburg's security.
The assembly was stunned.
Such demands were akin to the Griffon's bold demand!
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