When Casvan led the remnants of his knights and a few attendants to retreat along the mountain path of Doomsday Mountain, what awaited them was not the support of the garrison troops.
The camp gates were tightly shut, and the sentry posts were deserted.
"What's happening?! Where are the Didier troops? Open the gate!"
The heavy sound of horns echoed through the mountains.
"Toot~ Toot~"
The sound of a large army marching came from the other end of the mountain path.
"Thud, thud, thud~" The uniform footsteps drowned out the calls of Casvan and his men. At the end of their line of sight, on the other side of the mountain, an army appeared.
The first things visible were dense spears and battle axes, and the feathers on the helmets. It was some time before the stocky voices collectively emerged from the mountain path.
"Advance! Sons of Garon!"
"Hei ha hu~!"
"Draw weapons!"
"Ha!"
An army of about a thousand dwarves appeared from the other side of the mountains, armed with shields and battle axes or holding spears high, completely blocking Casvan's retreat route. The dark muzzles of their weapons pointed towards Casvan and his men: "Passage is not permitted here!"
"Damn it! It's the reinforcements from Karak-Breeze Fortress!" Casvan looked back and saw Emperor Karl-Franz, leading the Reichsguard, had blocked their escape.
They were surrounded.
"Lord Casvan, welcome to the imperial territory. I have arranged accommodations for you in Brunwick," the Emperor slowly approached Casvan's beleaguered troops with the Reichsguard surrounding him. "You have nowhere to escape. Lay down your weapons. I, Karl-Franz, the Emperor of the Empire, promise to treat the captives well and heal the injured."
"Even in human warfare, in the end, you still relied on the power of dwarves to defeat me, Karl-Franz!" Casvan, realizing the gravity of their defeat, said with irony: "Is this what you call a fair victory?"
"This is indeed a fair victory, Casvan. When you declared war on the Empire, you automatically declared war on the dwarves as well," Karl-Franz replied calmly. "At this point, are you still blaming others for your failure?"
"..." Casvan sighed deeply. "Indeed, I should have foreseen this—the sacred covenant between the High King of the Dwarves and the Empire... The dwarves would definitely stand with you."
"That scoundrel! Dismount immediately and pay your respects to the great Emperor!" A member of the Reichsguard, unable to contain himself, shouted loudly. Karl-Franz raised his hand to silence him, remaining calm: "So, Lord Casvan, what do you think of my proposal?"
Duke Palawon dismounted, removed his gauntlets, and handed his blood-stained gloves to Karl-Franz.
The Emperor of the Empire accepted Casvan's gloves, and at that moment, Duke Palawon finally sat down on the ground: "I have lost, in the name of the Lady, I, Casvan de Palawon, here... surrender to the Emperor Karl-Franz!"
At half-past ten in the morning, the Emperor of the Empire, Prince Rick, the Grand Duke of Brunwick, and the heirs of all sacred legacies from the sea to the mountains rode their horses around the battlefield, concluding the Battle of Hemgart with a complete victory for the Empire.
...
After the battle, the narrow plains before Hemgart were littered with bodies and the wounded. The Empire's medics and the Church of Mercy's priests worked diligently on the battlefield to aid the injured, while groups of Bretonnian prisoners sat directly on the ground, guarded by the Empire's troops and also receiving aid.
In this war, the Empire's forces suffered over four hundred deaths and over eight hundred injuries, while the Bretonnian forces lost over nine hundred, including more than a hundred knights, and six hundred were injured.
Human civil wars are intense, yet there is usually a measure of restraint; wounded soldiers who sit down indicating they are injured are not attacked further. Knights who fall from their horses and are not killed on the spot usually survive.
On the walls of Hemgart, Ryan looked at the still-smoldering battlefield and sighed quietly.
The world he had traveled to was quite unique; many of the technologies that transmigrants took pride in were already present in this world.
Firearms, artillery, steam technology, and improved crop varieties were technologies possessed by humans and dwarves in this world.
Ryan had initially wondered if the printing press could be utilized in this world, but he soon discovered that it had been invented before the Great Holy War.
However, this technology could not be widely promoted because it was inherently susceptible to the corruption of
Chaos. The first batch of printed books produced were exquisite, but nearly all readers became followers of the deceiver, and eventually, the printing press could only be managed by the Church. Only under the blessing of the gods could printed books avoid corruption.
It's ironic, yet a reality.
Similarly, many technologies are not unattainable for humans, but they simply cannot be widely implemented. The technology to forge plate armor and large siege weapons is destined to be held by only a few because once produced on a large scale, the greenskins and followers of Chaos would adopt these technologies faster than humans.
And although the firepower of cannons and firearms is considerable, Ryan is sure that the Empire's heavy cannons, even if fired at him, would hardly cause him injury. In this world, there are many beings who can face cannons head-on, and the Grail Knights are one such group. Firearms are not invincible.
Bretonnia lacks the financial resources to mass-produce steam tanks like the Empire, but after seeing the high technology of the Empire, Ryan was determined that his troops also needed sufficient firepower, and he accelerated the construction of musketeer regiments and artillery units.
He was particularly envious of steam tanks, a major weapon of the Empire, developed jointly by renowned southern engineers and the Dwarf Engineers' Guild before the Great Holy War. The prototype steam tank, of which twelve were made, each had a different internal structure.
Now, the Empire still had eight of these tanks, all under the Emperor's control. In addition, engineers from the Nuln Gunnery School and the Brunwick Royal Engineering Academy were also trying to replicate some steam tanks. Naturally, these replicas were not as invincible as the original steam tanks but were still formidable war machines.
The secret of making steam tanks was strictly guarded in the Ludwig Sanctuary of the Nuln Gunnery School.
"Compared to the Empire, we are already far behind in many areas," Francois and Ryan walked down the city walls. The cheers of the Electors on the walls and the roars of the Empire's troops were somewhat jarring to both the Duke and the Count. Francois sighed and said, "Since the Dolt Tower Incident, Bretonnia has made almost no technological progress in three hundred years. The knightly nobility think the Grail is everything, unaware that the Empire has already completed the equipping of firearms and numerous war machines. Emperor Ludwig has vigorously promoted firearms, making the Empire's troops even stronger, while we still rely on catapults and peasant archers. Indeed, our knights still have a clear combat advantage over those of the Empire, but..."
"But war is not just about knights," Ryan also sighed softly.
"Indeed, war cannot rely solely on knights. We Grail Knights are not afraid of those cannons and steam tanks, but the Grail Knights are very few." Francois nodded.
The two men entered the battlefield where the Empire's troops were cleaning up, arranging prisoners. Everywhere, surrendered peasants and knights saw the two Grail Knights stepping onto the battlefield; many knights looked ashamed, and the peasants pleaded for forgiveness.
Casvan had played his hand and made a name for Karl-Franz with decades of prestige.
Surrounded by hundreds of Imperial knights, Karl-Franz was inspecting the battlefield. Mounted on a robust half-elf warhorse, he smiled when he saw Ryan and Francois appear: "Good morning, Lord Francois, Lord Ryan."
"Good morning, Your Majesty Franz. I hope you treat the prisoners well and do not insult them," Ryan sighed slightly, speaking calmly.
"Oh! Of course, I've promised." The Emperor was momentarily stunned, then nodded immediately: "Please understand, we of the Empire did not wish for this war. We are on the defensive."
"Ha." Ryan was somewhat scornful and self-mocking. Karl-Franz had carefully designed a trap, luring Casvan into it, then secured a victory while holding the moral high ground. This war had endeared the Emperor to the people and garnered ample political capital.
In comparison to the over one hundred-year-old Richard, the achievements of Karl-Franz, in his thirties, were perfectly demonstrated.
"Release me!" A beautiful Lake Prophetess was bound tightly by several Imperial soldiers, her hands tied behind her, and then brought before the Emperor: "My Majesty, we have captured a Lake Prophetess!"
"May the Lady curse you!" The Lake Prophetess, bound by ropes, struggled as several Imperial soldiers took the opportunity to grope her. The beautiful prophetess twisted her body trying to evade them, shouting angrily: "Imperial bastards!"
"Release her," Ryan spoke to Karl-Franz. "The Lake Prophetess enjoys sanctuary."
"The Lake Prophetess enjoys sanctuary, but you need to pay a sufficient ransom." Elector Umberto Corleone showed respect to Ryan and Francois. After a fierce battle, the Elector himself hadn't shed a drop of blood; his lavish plate armor and tall helmet feathers still shone
brightly: "The ransom price for a Lake Prophetess is five hundred gold marks, but for your sakes, three hundred gold marks, final offer."
"May the Lady curse you! Get your filthy hands off me!" The Lake Prophetess, who appeared to be in her thirties, was mature and beautiful. Most Lake Prophetesses maintain their youthful beauty throughout their lives, aging rapidly only in the last few years before withering away at a shrine or sacred site of the Lake Fairies, merging with nature.
"Forget it, let this Lake Prophetess lady go for free." Karl-Franz didn't want to linger on this matter and also wanted to show respect to Ryan, whose strength he had witnessed firsthand. Indeed, the war was narrowly won by the Empire. If a Grail Knight had led the opposition, the outcome might have been entirely different; perhaps Umberto wouldn't have held out until his arrival. The steel plates of the steam tanks were an impenetrable defense against ranger knights and kingdom knights, but there were quite a few among the Grail Knights who could tear through steel.
The Emperor knew well that although the Empire was powerful, it had one fatal flaw.
Lack of organized high-end combat power.
As the most powerful nation in the Old World, the Empire had many legendary strongmen, but its highest combat power was very dispersed.
Every Grail Knight is a powerful, steadfast, and loyal living saint. Grail Knights of equivalent rank are much stronger than ordinary people. Just a command from the Lake Fairy or the Lake Witch, and the Grail Knights could mobilize collectively, fighting for the goddess.
Karl-Franz, as Emperor of the Empire, couldn't achieve this. The Empire's high-end forces were very scattered and had varied interests, making it very difficult to unite them. Heilberg was the best swordsman in the Reichsguard, but he was not even a match for an ordinary Grail Knight. The champion of the Griffin Legion, Rog, was knocked down by Ryan with one strike.
To combat the darkness, the power of the Grail Knights was essential.
In giving Ryan and Francois a favor here, there was no harm, only benefit.
The Emperor waved his hand, and the Lake Prophetess was released by the Imperial soldiers. She glared hatefully at the men who had just taken the opportunity to touch her, quickly moving behind Ryan and Francois.
The other knights were not so lucky; they were taken away in groups. These knights would be imprisoned in the jails of Hemgart and Brunwick, awaiting ransom.
"Where is Casvan?" Ryan asked.
"Casvan? The ransom is twenty thousand gold marks. When the ransom is paid, we will naturally release him," General Kurt Heilberg spoke sternly.
This was the ransom amount discussed by the Empire for a long time; it would make a tidy profit without making it impossible for Casvan to pay. The Empire believed that, with the centuries of accumulation in the Duchy of Palawon, they could certainly afford twenty thousand gold marks, equivalent to twenty thousand gold crowns.
"No, I'm not talking about that. I'm asking where Lord Casvan is now?" Ryan shook his head. He certainly wasn't going to pay that money; he just had some matters he wanted to discuss with Casvan.
Duke Palawon was a conservative, and he disliked Ryan's close relations with wood elves and dwarves, particularly the trade deals with wood elves that had cost Casvan heavily.
Additionally, Casvan had also sheltered dwarves to build weapons and houses for him, but these dwarves were far inferior to the rune craftsmen and dwarf engineers that Ryan had recruited because most of the dwarves Casvan could shelter were Empire dwarves who couldn't make it in the Empire.
Thus, the relationship between Casvan and Ryan was very poor, almost impossible to establish an equal dialogue.
Now, the opportunity had come.
"This..." Heilberg hesitated. Ryan was powerful, and if...
"Take Lord Ryan there, Heilberg," Karl-Franz agreed immediately. "I've promised."
"Yes!" Since it was an imperial command, Heilberg said no more: "Lord Ryan, please follow me."
"Alright."
Ryan followed Heilberg into the imperial camp, where he saw the dispirited Casvan, imprisoned: "Hello, Lord Casvan."
"Ryan Makado?! It's you! Are you here to mock me?" Casvan was locked in a cage. He wasn't shackled or handcuffed and looked much older. Seeing Ryan, he angrily said through the iron bars: "You've witnessed my failure and aren't satisfied, so you've come to humiliate me further?"
"No, I've come to you because there are some matters I want to discuss."
"Some... special matters."
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