"Thanks to my knowledge, it helped and saved me..."
Vincent began to recount his experiences.
After the first Battle of La-Maisonnelle Monastery, Vincent was almost executed on the spot by an enraged François for nearly causing the collapse of the situation and failing to hold the position or stop Kemmler from escaping. Fortunately, thanks to Sulia's plea, he was instead exiled to the Empire's Ostland to serve as a regular diplomat.
Ostland is a harsh, resource-scarce place, frequently engaging in battles with northern barbarians, beastmen from the Shadow Forest, and Chaos warbands from the Brass Keep in the central mountains. It was a dangerous and grueling place to be. When Vincent first arrived, he barely managed to get by as a diplomat.
However, he was a nobleman and, in a place like Ostland, where the cultural level was generally low, Vincent, though not an excellent knight, was a capable scholar. He was soon noticed by Elector Valmir, who tasked him with writing propaganda articles, notices, and bounty posters. His good language and writing skills earned him a position in Wolfenburg.
"I see," Ryan reflected on the past and nodded self-deprecatingly. "Indeed, I experienced something similar in Nord. Even nobles there were only guaranteed to be literate and able to write. Many needed court scribes or even bards to write love letters, correspondence, and invitations. Some made a living as freelance scribes."
"Exactly, I was one of them," Vincent smiled bitterly. "At most, I wrote fifteen love letters in a day for Elector Valmir, addressed to six different ladies."
"How are things in the north now?" Ryan asked casually.
"Not very good, my Duke," Vincent frowned unexpectedly. "When I left Ostland, there were ominous signs of a civil war brewing. Nordland, Ostland, and Hochland were already engaging in large-scale skirmishes over territorial disputes."
"They're just asking for trouble!" Ryan's face showed slight anger, but he sighed helplessly, understanding the reason behind it.
These three northern provinces of the Empire were enjoying a period of prosperity following Ryan's defeat of the Skaeling King Egil Redeye. Although this prosperous period was ending, with the northern barbarians potentially making a comeback, these nobles didn't see it that way. After a brief respite, they began to have ideas about territorial disputes.
It's well known that the Kingdom of Nord was not originally a province of the Charlemagne Empire. It gradually became one under Emperor Sigismund II after he conquered the Jutons. During the Three Emperors period, Nord was among the regions declared abandoned. The Nords suffered greatly, driven south by the Middenlanders and pillaged by the northern barbarians. They survived by becoming just as savage themselves. Thus, the blood of the Norscans, Thuringians (Middenlanders), and Jutons flowed through their veins. During this period, many Norscan tribes unwilling to worship the Chaos Gods migrated south and settled in Nord.
After the Great Holy War, Ludwig worked to reincorporate Nord into the Empire. He granted them an electoral vote and made his deputy, Harald Frank, the Grand Duke of Nord. While Ludwig was alive, all was well, but after he abdicated and disappeared, Harald Frank began expressing dissatisfaction. This former lieutenant of Ludwig, a sanctuary powerhouse, felt he deserved more than being a local chieftain in a harsh land.
He started calling himself the King of Nord and took actions such as:
Sending many subordinates to other provinces to forge noble titles.
Marrying off many female family members to acquire noble titles through marriage.
Recruiting heirs with strong claims from other imperial provinces to Nord, giving them noble titles and using them as a pretext for inheritance wars.
Ultimately, he even had his eldest grandson and heir, Theodoric Geyser, declare himself Prince of Marienburg because his wife had stayed in Marienburg for a few days.
The problem was, when the Empire was established, Nord wasn't an official province. With Harald Frank's high status, even Emperor Karl Franz might have to call him great-grandfather.
The chaotic claims gave the Nords an excuse for war. The reduced external threat from Egil's death provided the opportunity, as the Nords had long coveted Hochland's cedar and oak.
Humans always repeat the same tragedies.
Emperor Karl Franz was troubled by this and, after the winter solstice, sent a small imperial army north, ostensibly at the invitation of Elector Edbrand Ludenhof of Hochland to clear out beastmen and greenskin remnants in the Wiesen Hills. But everyone knew it was a warning to Nordland to not act rashly, as Hochland was small in area and had few but elite troops.
"I remember Elector Edbrand's eldest son is studying in Nur?" Ryan rubbed his chin.
"Yes, Emilia mentioned it. Conrad Ludenhof is attending Nur University," Sulia confirmed.
"Mr. Vincent, given your expertise, you will serve as a scribe in my court," Ryan nodded.
"I dare not disobey," Vincent agreed without hesitation. His greatest wish now was to quietly stay with his daughter.
After settling Vincent's matter, Ryan turned to Oliver. "Oliver, what good news do you have for me?"
"Not exactly good news, Lord Ryan," Oliver seriously took out a manifest from his briefcase. "Following your instructions, we investigated the source of the first-class Obian wine from Bordeleaux."
"What did you find?" Ryan took the manifest.
"Over the years, only three barrels of this wine have entered Nur. One was purchased by Lady Emmanuelle, one by Nur University for an academic exchange, and one by the Spier family," Oliver explained, puzzled. "We couldn't investigate Lady Emmanuelle and Nur University further. As for the Spier family, it seems they held a grand banquet the night the wine arrived and consumed it all."
"A grand banquet?" Ryan realized something.
"Yes, a grand masquerade," Oliver added.
A masquerade! Ryan and Sulia exchanged a glance.
"Oliver, did you find out when the next Spier family masquerade is?" Ryan asked casually, testing Oliver.
"In April, at the Golden Smile Hall in Nur," Oliver didn't disappoint, producing another list.
"Very well, my lady, it seems we need to stay in Nur a bit longer," Ryan nodded, determined. "We can't leave this unfinished. For Emilia's and little Frederick's safety, we must eradicate the Pleasure Seekers Society!"
"Exactly!" At that moment, the door was kicked open with a loud bang.
Emilia stormed in, her face filled with righteous anger. "I won't allow it! Not in my city!"
"Emilia? You know?" Ryan was surprised.
"I've known for a long time!" Emilia's face was contorted with anger, making her normally delicate face appear fierce. "You think you can keep this from me? Ryan, is this how you act as a father?!"
Emilia pounced on Ryan like an angry lioness, gripping his face. "Such a big issue in Nur, and you didn't tell me?!"
"Calm down, Emilia!" Ryan held Emilia, trying to soothe her. "We're figuring out a solution."
"I'll mobilize the Nur army! We'll kill everyone at that masquerade!" Emilia's face darkened with rage, waving her fists. "Anyone who touches my son will die!"
"Emilia!!!" Ryan finally shouted, his anger rising. "That will ruin everything! We've worked hard to gather these clues! You must calm down! Any military action will alert the Pleasure Seekers Society, and they'll escape!"
Ryan's shout carried a psychic shock, hitting Emilia's mind. She shivered and finally calmed down, gritting her teeth. "Then what's your plan? As the father, you must take responsibility."
"I'll go with Sulia to the masquerade," Ryan thought for a moment. "Olica will also act, supporting us covertly."
"No problem, master," the dark elf nodded with a smile.
"No, not you and Sulia. I will go with you," Emilia objected. "A masquerade is a mysterious event, inviting many artists, including nobles, sculptors, bards, and painters. It's an elite gathering in Nur, and only those who provide significant sponsorship can enter. Everyone will wear masks, drinking and flirting. How will you and Sulia attend without raising suspicion?"
"..." Ryan was silent.
"I must go," Emilia insisted. "Only with me can you attend the masquerade without arousing suspicion. You're an outsider, unfamiliar with many of Nur's customs and etiquettes. You need my help."
"Alright, let's do it that way," Ryan conceded after some thought. He had to admit Emilia was right.
"Good, let's start preparing."
Thus, Ryan and his group stayed in Nur. Officially, Ryan, as the Crown Prince of Bretonnia and Duke of Mousillon, continued placing orders with the Nur Military Factory and tried to recruit high-tech talents from the Nur Gunpowder Academy. Negotiations weren't going smoothly, so they temporarily stayed in the Elector's Palace. The great nobles of Nur didn't object.
The two boys, Devonshire and little Frederick, played wildly together, calling each other brothers but often arguing and fighting.
Interestingly, during his visit to Nur University, Ryan encountered many challengers. Many young, hot-blooded imperial nobles threw white gloves at him, challenging him one after another.
"For Lady Emmanuelle, duel me, Lord Ryan!"
"Lord Ryan, I challenge you!"
"Face me, Grail Knight from across the mountains!"
"If you lose, leave our lady alone!"
The challenges kept coming. The challenges kept coming. Just upon entering the Nur University campus, Ryan received challenges from over a dozen white-gloved youths.
Ryan remained calm, signaling them to be patient and promising to face them one by one. The fervent noble scions calmed down slightly upon hearing this.
Ryan then addressed them, "Challenges are fine, but they come with a price. Each challenger must pay 200 gold marks per duel. If you pay for five duels upfront, you get a discount, and I'll even cover the transportation to the Temple of Mercy for treatment. How about that? Fair enough, right? As the Lady of the Lake's chosen champion, I believe in winning with honor. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you—I won't kill anyone."
The noble youths huddled together, finding the terms reasonable. Nur's nobles were wealthy and didn't mind the cost. They agreed, establishing the rules and appointing the high priest of the Church of the Goddess of Justice, Valena, as the arbitrator.
That afternoon, Ryan earned 6,600 gold marks. After deducting the Church of the Goddess of Justice's 5% commission, his net income was 6,270 gold marks.
The next day, the Temple of Mercy had over twenty new patients, most suffering from broken bones and concussions.
The Lady of the Lake's chosen champion weighed the gold-mark-filled bags, smiling.
You want to give me money? Who am I to refuse, right?
***
April, the Old World, the World's Edge Mountains, Black Crag.
Once a renowned dwarf fortress, Karak Drazh, Black Crag was historically besieged and eventually fell to endless greenskin attacks. Most dwarf clans within perished, with a few fleeing to Karaz-a-Karak, the Everpeak.
Currently, Black Crag was the strongest greenskin stronghold in the World's Edge Mountains and the Badlands, ruled by the formidable greenskin warlord Gorfang Rotgut.
But today, Black Crag faced a severe challenge.
Tamurkhan and his western horde had arrived!
_________________________
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