Atop the mountain, the ashes of dozens of blood-sucking beasts could not block the steps of several knights.
"Is this path always this unsafe?" Ryan sheathed his warhammer, looking at the ash-covered ground with a sense of alarm.
François, known as the "Nemesis of the Undead," initially led Ryan to believe it was due to a significant victory he had once achieved.
Now, it seemed not. The title "Nemesis of the Undead" was less an honor for François and more an accurate description of his abilities, emitting a dazzling light that served as a lethal weapon against dark creatures.
Including the undead and creatures of chaos.
Initially, Ryan thought that with the emperor's dispatched imperial guards and the protection of his elder brother Angleron, he could underestimate the world's powerhouses.
In reality, this world was unique; both the strength of the imperial guards and Angleron were suppressed to some extent, including when the emperor himself visited, to avoid attracting the attention of the evil gods, hence he couldn't fully unleash his power.
François's displayed strength was just slightly weaker than that of the imperial guards.
The Knight Kingdom had only a handful of Holy Grail Knights of François's caliber, probably no more than five. Yet, this was a wake-up call for Ryan. While the lower end of combat power in this world was much weaker, the highest echelons might not be that far apart.
Take Archon, for example, the lich king who had dominated for thousands of years managed to escape from the emperor's grasp. Although partly because the emperor was reluctant to exert his full power, the fact that the lich king could cast spells instantly to escape still proved significant.
François was unaware of the many thoughts crossing Ryan's mind. The duke sheathed the Unicorn Sword and sighed, "As long as Dragonrock Castle, the stronghold of the Eternals deep on the Grey Lady's path, stands, these dark creatures will always roam the mountain paths. Not every traveler possesses our strength, making this route too dangerous."
"Does Lord Casvan not have the power to destroy Dragonrock?" Julius asked his father.
"No." François shook his head, apparently not inclined to delve further into the topic: "Let's move on quickly. Along this road down the mountain, we'll reach Ubersreik by tomorrow."
"Yes!"
Meanwhile, in the town of Grennell, Casvan stood at a high point on the mountain road, gazing at the sprawling army below. The duke was full of ambition. The news of his declaration of war against the empire had spread from the mountains to the coast, from the plateau to the estuary. Hundreds of ranger knights had gathered at his call. Not many, but enough.
The young ranger knights were filled with great anticipation for the war, praising the Lady of the Lake. The passion of the expedition filled their youthful faces. Most knights had their helmets open, revealing their young faces, their colorful capes and various family crests rolling slowly down the mountain path like a giant scroll.
With the addition of new ranger knights, the number of knights had soared to over two thousand. Including Casvan's own forces, the duke was confident that this army of fifteen thousand could overcome any obstacle.
Casvan was nearing fifty, still young for a legendary warrior, but the duke himself felt aged inside. Years of quarrels with his wife, annual deficits within his territory, and friction with the empire had worn him down, wrinkles prematurely marked the corners of his eyes, and his temples were streaked with gray.
After the breakdown of negotiations with the empire, Casvan finally decided to resolve his differences with the empire by force.
Thunder roared on the horizon, and dark clouds loomed, indicating more snow was coming.
"My lord, looking at the sky, it might snow in the next few days." Count Karnel, the duke's lieutenant, caught up on horseback: "Is it too hasty to march now?"
"No, it's not hasty. We must move quickly." Casvan shook his head calmly, sharing his assessment: "In this war against the empire, we are the attackers, and the empire is on the defensive. If we do not move, the empire can comfortably defend itself. The longer we wait, the more disadvantageous it is for us. We must cross the Grey Mountains before Karl Franz and his imperial forces can fully fortify several key strongholds and Hemgarte's defenses. Otherwise, the empire's cannons and solid formations will give us a hard time."
"Wise decision, my lord." The lieutenant was genuinely convinced by the duke's judgment.
"Hurry up, we need to reach Ubersreik by the end of the month!"
"Yes!"
"Also, I don't want to hear any news of looting and killing fellow men on the march. Our opponents this time are human compatriots, not those detestable greenskins and evil
chaos creatures."
"This is the teaching of the Lady, the knights understand."
As they marched, the knights did not notice a black dot slowly moving in the clouds above.
It was a gigantic griffin, possibly the largest griffin ever seen in the Old World. The griffin, adorned in gleaming armor, bore the golden griffin crest of the Franz-Frederick family on its chest.
The Emperor of the Human Empire, Karl Franz, holding the warhammer Ghal Maraz, was scouting in the sky. His mount, Deathclaw, tore through the clouds, soaring in the cold wind. The emperor wore the Silver Seal armor, a relic left by the Savior Ludwig, holding the symbol of the emperor, Ghal Maraz, with the Elector Count's holy sword at his waist, navigating through the clouds.
"Casvan's moves are quite fast; my staff had originally estimated he would not move until February." The emperor muttered to himself, holding a monocular, a masterpiece from the engineers of the Nuln gunnery school.
It was the emperor's idea to scout personally, although his generals and courtiers strongly opposed the emperor's personal reconnaissance. Still, Karl Franz overruled them, deciding to undertake the scouting himself. His reason was well-founded.
In such cold, snowy weather, even a Pegasus could not soar above the Grey Mountains, only the emperor's mount Deathclaw could achieve it. Since Casvan's army lacked griffins, the emperor could scout safely.
"Let's go, Deathclaw, back we go." After confirming the enemy's size and the approximate number of knights, the emperor turned back.
Crossing the peaks of the Grey Mountains, through the high mountain clouds, over the sparse highland pastures, beyond the pastures, past the thriving villages and farms of Reikland, Karl Franz arrived at Hemgarte.
Here, tens of thousands of imperial troops were assembling. Swarms of Reik Electors, hundreds of Griffon Knights from the Griffon Order, riflemen from Brunswick, and pioneers from the Nuln Ironclad army, cannon squads, Hellstorm Rocket Battery squads, and elite Greatswords from Carroburg, Brunswick's Griffin Greatswords, Reikland's First, Second, and Third Infantry, Brunswick's First and Third Halberdiers...
Led by the Imperial Grand Alchemist Balthasar Gelt, the Imperial Royal Wizards were also stationed in Hemgarte, ready to face Duke Casvan's forces.
The emperor directly controlled Reikland, always having the empire's most elite troops and finest weapons. In these dark times, only well-organized armies, superior firepower, and devout faith could bring hope to the people.
In addition, Elector Count and Grand Duke of Averland, "Sunglion" Umberto Corleone, also arrived at Hemgarte with eight thousand troops. The Bull Knights and the Elector Count's elite Golden Fleece Knights were ready to compete with the so-called strongest knights of Old World Bretonnia.
Umberto also brought two battalions of Greatswords and numerous Halberdiers. Moreover, Averland's troops included groups of musketeers and dwarf mercenaries from the mountains who had long since adopted imperial citizenship. They did not care who their opponents were, as long as there was enough malt beer.
Now, tens of thousands of imperial troops were assembling in Hemgarte, crowding the city's vicinity with tents like an ancient forgotten chessboard. The city's residents eagerly peered through their windows, eager to catch a glimpse of the Elector Count and the emperor himself.
A black dot appeared in the sky, catching the attention of the imperial troops. Imperial General Kurt Helborg shouted towards the emperor's standard bearer, Ludwig Schwarzhammer: "It's His Majesty! He's returned!"
"Prepare to welcome His Majesty!" The emperor's standard bearer roared with his booming voice, his white-haired Ludwig's voice nearly covering the entire camp. Instantly, the imperial troops stopped their activities, ready to welcome their beloved emperor.
Deathclaw's silhouette, like a bolt of lightning, tore through the clouds and air, landing in the imperial camp. Karl Franz leapt from the griffin, affectionately tapping the griffin's neck with his fist: "Good work, old friend."
"Your Majesty~ Good morning."
"My emperor, I salute you."
"My emperor, have the knights from across the mountain arrived yet?"
The emperor was beloved by his troops. Karl Franz, young and valiant, wore a gentle smile and contentment on his face. Compared to dealing with the scheming nobles in the imperial court, the emperor preferred to be in the camp, where the military always welcomed their emperor, unlike those nobles who favored deceit.
Wearing a golden cloak, golden mask, golden robe, and holding a golden staff, the Imperial Grand Alchemist Gelt stepped forward. He intended to speak to the emperor, but
Imperial General Kurt Helborg spoke first: "Your Majesty, have you returned?"
"Yes, I have returned. I have both good news and bad news; which would you like to hear first?" Karl Franz's voice carried a hint of humor.
"I want to hear the bad news," a Reiksguard shouted, prompting laughter among the imperial knights.
"The bad news is that I've scouted Casvan and his large army moving along the Grey Lady's path," the emperor chuckled lowly, seemingly untroubled: "They're moving earlier than we estimated."
"And the good news?" Another Reiksguard called out.
"The good news is, we're in for a big fight!" Karl Franz raised his hand, letting out a rallying cry: "Prepare, my warriors, are you ready for a big fight with the knights across the mountain?!"
"Franz! Franz! Franz!" The chant began with someone from the Griffin Greatswords, then gradually spread like a trickle becoming a river, and from the river, it turned into a stormy sea.
"Franz! Franz! Franz!"
The shouts of tens of thousands of imperial troops shook the entire city of Hemgarte and the nearby lands, the walls trembling. Everyone was chanting the emperor's name.
The emperor's standard bearer, Ludwig, wore a face filled with pride and pride. He was no longer young, but he was still willing to die for Karl Franz.
Ludwig, the eldest son of a blacksmith from Averland, awakened his talent at the age of nine and chose to join the army. His formidable prowess quickly caught the attention of the previous emperor, Luitpold, who selected him to join the Reiksguard, making him a member of the elite guard. He became well-known through countless duels and wars.
However, as his fame grew, Ludwig found himself forced to attend various banquets and indescribable noble activities. He witnessed the empire's internal corruption, the arrogance of the nobles, and the painful struggles of hundreds of thousands of impoverished people. The nobles encroached on the lands of yeoman farmers, many peasants worked hard but still starved, and Luitpold's indulgence worsened the people's suffering, leaving Ludwig powerless to change anything.
Thus, he gradually became reticent, unwilling to change anything.
Everything changed when the young Emperor Karl took over from his father. Ludwig sensed a different kind of leadership quality in Karl, unlike the corrupt nobles. He believed Karl could change the empire, so he volunteered to become the young emperor's personal guard, accompanying him as his sword and shield.
Under Karl Franz's efforts, a large amount of land was reclaimed from corrupt nobles, returned to the yeoman farmers, numerous corrupted nobles were executed collectively, their lands either reclaimed by the emperor or awarded to meritorious soldiers. Reikland was transformed, some decayed nobles despised the young emperor, but numerous assassination attempts against Karl Franz were thwarted by Ludwig, followed by the emperor's retaliation.
The emperor's standard bearer firmly believed that as long as Karl Franz remained, there was still hope for humanity.
Elector Count Umberto, wearing the Holy Sword "Mother of Destruction," saw the emperor's high esteem and his face grew complex. Still, the Elector Count extended his hand: "Please excuse my interruption, Karl Franz."
"Of course, Lord Umberto." Karl Franz was somewhat displeased with the interruption, but he still showed respect to Umberto. The Elector Count before him was the only current Elector Count who had lived through that great holy war; at over two hundred years old, Karl Franz could rightly call him a great-grandfather.
"Scouts report that the Lady of the Lake's chosen champion, 'Devotee' Ryan Makado, Duke 'Longlegs' François Antre-Tankred-de-Winfurt, and several other knights have already reached Ubersreik," Umberto coughed a few times.
"My emperor, what do you plan to do?"
Updated! I played Heroes of the Storm all night yesterday, so I'm late today, sorry.
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