Inside the castle at Bordeleaux, Belya provided a detailed account of everything he had seen and experienced in Kislev. After finishing, he summarized:
"Your Majesty, at this point, everything that the former Tsar Boris Bokha had fought to achieve—the army he built, the industrial legacy he left behind, the resurgence of Ursun worship, and the many scholars he trained, having drained the kingdom's coffers—all of that is now under our control. It cost a lot, but everything remained within budget. Please review the results."
"Hmph!" Emilia shot a disdainful glance at Belya, this traitor who had exchanged Kislev's interests for his own position. "You've outdone yourself, General Belya. How much did Ryan promise you to sell out your country?"
"That is not my country!" Belya responded sternly, full of righteous indignation. "I am an Ungol, not a Gospodar! The former Tsar Boris truly cared for the whole kingdom, so I served him as my rightful lord. But Katarin? She may care for the kingdom, but it certainly doesn't include the Ungols!"
Emilia had no response. The historical complexities of Kislev were beyond her grasp.
"Ryan, will Kislev face major upheavals because of this?" Sulia asked, concerned about the kingdom's fate.
"Not likely." Ryan shook his head coldly. "First of all, Kislev has gained significant resources from us—well, from Belya. They've offloaded what they saw as burdens, and in the short term, the kingdom has stabilized. Even if some rebellion were to arise, how could they defeat Tsarina Katarin, the Ice Witches, or the Gryphon Legion? Do you know how many people it would take to challenge the Tsarina? A hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand? Don't forget, Katarin is a Sanctuary-level Ice Witch. She has several other legendary Ice Witches behind her, and an army. Kislev's land is barren—any rebellion would lack manpower and food. What would they use to overthrow the Tsarina?"
Ryan's argument was sound, and the group nodded in agreement. Even Belya couldn't help but admire the king's insight, acknowledging aloud, "Your Majesty, though you are thousands of kilometers away, your understanding of the situation and your analysis of Kislev are remarkable. Your wisdom is truly a treasure of the Old World, like the beauty of Queen Sulia."
"Enough with the flattery, Belya," Sulia said with a gentle smile, lightly reprimanding him. "If you want to please me, praise Ryan's swordsmanship instead. Time is precious."
"My apologies, Your Majesty. I will do better next time." Belya quickly shifted gears, his adaptability drawing a silent acknowledgment from Emilia. The Imperial Duchess thought to herself that Ryan had indeed found a valuable asset in Belya. Few among the Empire's courtly officials could match his skill, and his ambiguous background only made him more useful. She was sure Ryan would grant him more important responsibilities.
Emilia crossed her long legs, covered in deep red stockings, resting her feet in skull-patterned lace-up high heels as she linked arms with Sulia. The group continued discussing the situation.
Everyone knew that Ryan's point was correct. Nurturing a powerful spellcaster, especially a legendary or sanctuary-level one, required immense resources. Even then, it was not guaranteed that a wizard would succeed. A single failed experiment, a botched spell, an accident in battle, or simple jealousy from others could undo all the effort and money invested.
However, if a noble could successfully cultivate such a spellcaster, they gained a formidable weapon. Legendary wizards could single-handedly turn the tide of battle, just like the Lake Witch Morgiana. When she led, knights seldom tasted defeat. It was the same with the former Imperial Supreme Wizard, Thernus Gehrman, who had saved the Empire countless times with his fiery storm spells. Or like Gelt, whose ultimate alchemy spell could turn hundreds of beastmen into golden statues, securing victory for the Empire.
In the Great Battle at the Gates of Titans, it had been spells like Olica's Warping Void, Veronica's Meteor Shower, and Aurora's Frozen Realm that decimated Skarsnik's elite Black Orcs, killing over half of them. Without those spells, Ryan would have had to pay a much higher price to defeat that orc army. Even so, the combined armies lost over a thousand men, and Count Cuille Uberte's brother, Antherlm, died in the fight.
That kind of battlefield magic is invaluable, something every commander dreams of.
Therefore, spellcasters themselves held immense value.
As long as the Ice Witch Sisterhood remained stable, there was no chance of anyone overthrowing Katarin in the near future. A single spell from her could wipe out hundreds of people. Not to mention the other Ice Witches under her command.
"Your Majesty, I recruited over six hundred Ungol warriors from Kislev, fine men all. I've organized them into a new unit of Ungol Horse Archers. Please, name the regiment," Belya said, handing a roster to Ryan.
"Just call them the Ungol Regiment," Ryan said, casually. "Your priority now, Belya, is to properly settle these Kislev immigrants. Help them adjust to their new environment and Bretonnia's warmer climate. Once Maibach and his team finish inspecting the gunpowder factory, you can start assigning them work."
"Understood." Belya nodded. He then took the opportunity to introduce one of Kislev's top scholars, Mikhail Vasilyevich, who had been the first to apply for a job at the Gulag labor camp.
After exchanging a few words with Mikhail, Ryan quickly realized that the thirty-something scholar was a genius. He was fluent in five languages, including High and Low Gothic, Kislevite, Dwarvish, and Elvish. He also held advanced knowledge in physics, chemistry, mining, and metallurgy. When Ryan posed several complex questions, Mikhail not only answered them fluently but explained them clearly in Dwarvish.
Delighted, Ryan immediately appointed Mikhail as a professor at the new Moussillon Engineering Academy. Not to be outdone, Emilia, as honorary chancellor of Nuln University, also granted him the title of professor.
Mikhail became the first Kislevite in history to receive such titles, and Ryan further appointed him as a Royal Scientific Advisor to the Bretonnian court.
Mikhail was overwhelmed by the honor and knelt before Ryan, kissing his hand in a pledge of loyalty.
That day, a dozen other scholars passed screening and were also given positions within Ryan's court or at the new academy. The rest were quickly hired by nobles to work as scribes or in other roles. In this era, literate individuals were rare treasures.
Pleased with the outcome, Ryan awarded Belya the title of Knight of the Realm, with no land but a fixed salary, encouraging him to keep up the good work. Even Sulia nodded approvingly.
Tears welled up in Belya's eyes as he knelt and swore allegiance to Ryan.
With that, the Kislev affair came to a close, and Ryan's party boarded the carriage bound for Moussillon.
However, on the road from Bordeleaux to Moussillon, Ryan received a letter from Duke Louen, the kingdom's regent.
Emilia had to return to tend to her children, so Sulia and Olica accompanied Ryan. As they traveled along the newly built roads toward Moussillon, a messenger arrived in the dead of night, bearing the letter.
"This is a message from Regent Duke Louen. Is His Majesty asleep?" the messenger asked.
Old Guard commanders Bertrand and Davout exchanged glances, then looked toward the royal tent, where a lamp was still lit. Bertrand took the letter and called out, "Your Majesty? A new letter has arrived."
"Bring it in." Ryan was seated inside, reading a book. Sulia, already dressed in her nightgown, leaned lazily against the bed, her beauty mesmerizing in the soft light. "What now?"
"I don't know." Ryan motioned for Olica, dressed in her black-and-white maid outfit, to fetch the letter.
After reading Duke Louen's letter, Ryan set it aside and frowned. "Terrible timing."
"Terrible timing?" Sulia asked, curious. "What does Louen say? What's going on?"
"Louen wants to raise an army to explore Albion, the island across the sea to the north," Ryan replied, handing the letter to Sulia. After reading a few lines, Sulia, too, looked troubled. "Indeed, terrible timing."
There was no immediate crisis. Louen was simply proposing an idea: organizing a military expedition to Albion. According to his scouts, recent changes in the Winds of Chaos had revealed a new vein of magical ore on the island. The Empire had already mobilized its forces, with former Imperial Supreme Wizard Thernus Gehrman leading the expedition. Louen suggested that Bretonnia should also raise an army to seize the opportunity, fight the Norscan tribes, and mine the magical ore.
In normal circumstances, Ryan would have agreed. Bretonnia sorely needed magical resources. The land had once been an Elven colony, and its magical ore veins were mostly depleted, with only small quantities remaining in the Grey Mountains.
But the timing was all wrong. Bretonnia had just concluded the Eight Peaks Expedition. The army needed time to recover, and the kingdom needed to digest the spoils of war. While there was no widespread war-weariness, everyone
—from knights to peasants—was tired. Another war, at least this year or next, was unthinkable.
Ryan explained his thoughts to Sulia. "I don't believe Louen doesn't understand this. But his request is serious and urgent. He's even promising only to use troops from the northern duchies. It's hard to simply refuse. Why would he push for this now? Albion is a mysterious place, constantly shrouded in mist. If we encounter a powerful enemy, how could we remain uninvolved?"
The tent was quiet. Olica, appearing delicate and demure, nestled against Ryan without speaking, simply enjoying their time together. Ryan remained deep in thought, frowning all the while. After several minutes, Sulia spoke, "Ryan, do you know about the Eight Peaks Brotherhood?"
"I do," Ryan nodded.
In recent months, a new faction had risen in Bretonnia. The "Eight Peaks Brotherhood" consisted of knights, Old Guard members, and free men who had participated in the Eight Peaks Expedition. They gathered to reminisce, boasting about their adventures, singing songs, drinking, and breaking down the barriers between nobles and commoners. Membership was exclusive to those who had fought in the expedition.
"Wait, you mean Louen feels left out because he didn't participate in the expedition, so he wants to prove himself?" Ryan suddenly realized what Sulia was implying. "That would make sense."
"Exactly. This letter likely serves two purposes. First, it's a request from the northern lords. Louen is representing their desire to prove they aren't cowards for missing the expedition. Second, it's a public statement—he's showing loyalty to you and sending a message to the northern nobles." Sulia nodded. Her ocean-blue eyes met Ryan's, a playful smile on her lips. "My advice? In your response, acknowledge the current situation and explain why it's not the right time to start another war. Promise that in the next expedition, northern knights and Louen will have priority. That way, you preserve your image, give Louen an excuse to back down, and maintain the balance between northern and southern nobles."
"Tell him, 'next time, for sure,' huh? Hahaha!" Ryan laughed heartily, scribbling down Sulia's suggestion. "My love, what more can I say? I've run out of words to praise my queen."
"You could show your appreciation in other ways, dear," Sulia teased, slipping a foot clad in sheer black stockings—her toes visible through a transparent weave—from beneath the blankets. "Given how much time Emilia and Morgiana have taken from me recently, don't you think your queen deserves some extra attention from her king?"
"Of course, my queen," Ryan agreed, more than ready.
---
Meanwhile, in the New World, deep in the Great Ocean's hidden waters, a cursed whirlpool known as the Shipgraveyard churned.
An ironclad fleet was breaking through a barrage of undead cannon fire, escaping the heart of the Shipgraveyard. Captain Roth's compass guided them out of the cursed waters.
Amid the storm and gunfire, the Primarch of the Emperor's Children, Fulgrim, wielded his Serpent God spear in one hand and his golden power sword, Glory, in the other. He had clearly just fought a brutal battle, the deck littered with the corpses of undead sea monsters. On deck, the Gold Wizard, Julius, and Pirazzo clashed with a swarm of deep-sea wights and vampire sailors.
Further back, Ash Legion Commissar Lev and the Wood Elf Princess Carona led a volley of ranged attacks, cutting down their foes.
Nothing could stop Fulgrim. With his personal intervention, the undead pirate hordes were annihilated. The flagship of the Ash Legion, Saint Sophia, led two other ironclads through the enemy blockade. Their overwhelming firepower discouraged any pursuit. Behind them, more ships—including the Gold Wizard's flagship, Burning Scimitar—followed.
As they broke free, the storm cleared, and in the calm night, starlight bathed the sea and deck. The soldiers of the Ash Legion cheered in victory and prepared to toss the undead corpses overboard to feed the fish.
"We got lucky, Lord Primarch. It seems the vampire count Noctilus and his flagship, Bloody Reaver, were not at the Shipgraveyard." The Gold Wizard sheathed his weapon and addressed Fulgrim. "I didn't expect things to go so smoothly… and so disappointingly. I have a score to settle with that count. I'll cut off his cursed head next time. My vengeance isn't over yet—this is just the beginning."
"Don't fret, Karim. You'll get your chance for revenge." Fulgrim nodded. His impossibly handsome face radiated confidence and pride, his long, silky hair wet but undiminished in allure. "But for now, we must head to Bretonnia and meet with my brother, Ryan."
The Primarch sheathed his weapons and pulled a pendant from his tunic.
The pendant burned with the fires of Heaven, its flame never extinguishing. It bore the ancient sigil of the Elven Empire and the divine mark of the Elven Moon Goddess, Lileath.
I have what I need.
Wait for me, Gilles. Give me a little more time!
You will return!
_________________________
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