"Brother, I've finished reading the books you lent me!" Fugen elegantly handed a stack of books to Ryan in the meeting room aboard the Enterprise.
Ryan thought to himself that Fugen seemed to lack any awareness of interrupting others. No wonder he had been slammed by Perturabo once for annoying him. Ryan had heard the story and initially felt sympathy, but now, after knowing Fugen better, he felt it was deserved.
Fugen's pride and confidence rivaled that of the High Elves. Ryan took back the books he had lent him: Geography of the Old World: Kingdom of Bretonnia, The History of Bretonnia's Twelve Duchies, The Epic of Randuin, Bestiary of Bretonnia, Ancient and Mysterious Tales, Songs of the Grail: The Legend of Amelric, White Death: The Ballad of Guillaume, The Heraldry of Bretonnia, and The Influence of Elven Culture on the Laws of Bretonnia, among many others. Fugen, like Ryan, had been bored during the long journey and had passed the time reading through Ryan's collection of Bretonnian literature.
"How was it?" Ryan asked with a smile.
"The academic ones were fine, though they were too focused on heroic narratives and personal agency," Fugen replied casually. "As for the chronicles of the Grail Knights, no doubt they were great heroes. I was particularly impressed by the knight called Guillaume, the White Death. He ruled for 89 years, slew a dragon, five Chaos champions, two Greater Daemons, and twelve greenskin warlords. In the Battle of Armendorf, he single-handedly killed five greenskin warlords, driving all the greenskin tribes out of Bretonnia."
"Guillaume is often considered on par with King Arthur himself," Ryan nodded. The golden age of Bretonnia began with Guillaume's legendary deeds, including his collaboration with the Wood Elves, saving an entire battle when the forest was on the verge of being overrun by greenskins. The Wood Elves, in gratitude, gifted him a purebred elven horse, from which his nickname, 'White Death,' was derived.
"But the content was a bit too embellished," Fugen remarked after his praise. "Too many flowery words, too much praise, and far too many background details that fill pages without substance. In some chapters, there's barely anything solid."
Ryan laughed heartily as he sat down with Sulia, with Fugen's second-in-command, Pirazzo, and his magic advisor, the Arabian Sultan and Gold Wizard, Kareem, also present. Sulia and Olica had a favorable impression of Fugen and Pirazzo. The former was Ryan's brother, a dashing, elegant man, while the latter, though scarred, carried himself with the dignified composure of a seasoned military officer. However, neither Sulia nor Olica could stand Kareem.
That was largely because, upon arriving in Araby, Kareem had immediately caused trouble. Using his authority as a sultan, he presented a "gift" to Ryan and Fugen, one that turned out to be six carefully groomed young girls, ranging in age from 11 to 14. The girls had been dolled up in princess dresses, their wide, innocent eyes filled with curiosity and fear, looking to Ryan and Fugen as their only hope for a better future.
Ryan and Fugen had been horrified, immediately dismissing Kareem's "gift." Fugen had even scolded Kareem, warning him that his father would never forgive such behavior. Ryan didn't get a chance to speak before Sulia and Olica dragged him away, covering his eyes and forbidding him from even looking at the girls.
Kareem never understood why Ryan and Fugen had reacted so strongly. To him, girls of that age were at the peak of their appeal. The cultural differences between them were simply too great for mutual understanding.
"These books are more like memoirs and artistic renditions, not serious historical records," Ryan explained. "They're bound to be a little embellished."
"Even your serious histories are full of embellishments," Fugen shot back with a smirk, just as Julius entered the room, followed by Bertrand, Davout, and Captain Raymond of the Halberdier Regiment.
"Everything is embellished," Ryan agreed, chuckling. "Take these Grail Knight biographies, for example. What isn't embellished? The reckless mistakes of youth? The lengthy recounting of their family history and heroic lineage? The hardships of their quests, the gathering of squires? Even the first battle of a Grail quest can be stretched into several chapters. As for their spiritual insights and encounters, those are often the most embellished of all."
"The only solid content comes after the battles, the treasures they acquire, or the moment the Lady of the Lake appears—that's when things get serious," Ryan concluded. "Even my answer here is completely embellished!"
The room erupted in laughter. It was clear to everyone that Ryan had a particular grudge against the over-exaggerated style of these books.
After a few moments of levity, they turned to the serious business at hand. A detailed map of Ulthuan was spread across the table. The conference room on the bridge wasn't particularly spacious, but the dwarven craftsmanship ensured it was well-lit and had a solid, secure feel. Fugen placed his finger on the map, pointing to a specific location.
"Our goal in Ulthuan is to gain access to Lothern. While negotiating with the High Elves, we need enough time to investigate the Isle of Flame," Fugen said. "So, the main objective isn't necessarily to form an alliance but to buy time for our scouts to survey the island and prepare our plan."
"That's why Ryan brought Olica, and why we have Little Sorgelin and the master engineer Jerrick Grim accompanying us," Fugen continued.
"Correct," Ryan nodded. His expression was serious, as this mission was directly related to the resurrection of Gilles le Breton, and they would only have one chance. "Olica, tell them the plan."
The dark elf smiled sweetly as she moved closer to Ryan and pushed her black hair behind her ear. "There are three challenges we'll face in investigating the Isle of Flame," Olica began.
"The first is the magical mists that protect Lothern. Teclis will handle that problem for us, so we won't have to worry about the thousands of guards, hundreds of bolt throwers, and magical defenses stationed at the Shining Towers," Olica explained.
"The second problem is that as guests, you'll only be allowed to roam the outer city of Lothern. The inner city, protected by massive walls, is off-limits unless you have a special permit signed by the Phoenix Court itself," she continued, her tone light but teasing. "It's not like we Druchii can just slip in wearing Lothern Sea Guard uniforms. You'll need to find a way."
"Can't we sneak in?" Julius asked, still frowning.
"You can try, but only if your magic is more powerful than the High Elven mage corps stationed behind the walls. Not only would you need to bypass the magical barriers, but you'd also have to evade detection by the mage corps," Olica giggled. "Otherwise, you'll be facing 20,000 Lothern Sea Guard and tens of thousands of citizen militias. Every High Elf is an elite warrior who serves some time in the army each year. Their combat prowess far exceeds that of humans. I'd suggest asking Teclis for help."
"What's the third challenge?" Ryan asked.
"The third, and hardest, challenge is the Asuryan Temple on the Isle of Flame," Olica said, her expression turning serious. "The item we need is inside the temple, but retrieving it will be extremely difficult. Even the Lady can't help you here. The temple is guarded by Phoenix King Cad'athion's handpicked Phoenix Guard, swarms of phoenixes, and large numbers of soldiers. The Phoenix Guard are the most elite warriors in Ulthuan, and they have dedicated their entire lives to Asuryan. No one knows their exact numbers, but there are at least 1,000 to 2,000 Phoenix Guards and dozens of phoenixes stationed on the island."
"Understood," Ryan said, realizing the gravity of the situation.
"Wait, the High Elves also have Phoenix Guards?" Pirazzo asked, catching on to the name.
"They've had them for over 6,000 years," Olica remarked, with a smirk.
"I've had them for over 10,000 years," Fugen corrected, though he didn't seem to care much. "God, I miss the old days."
"That's not the point of this discussion, brother," Ryan reminded him. "With defenses that tight, we'll need to come up with a plan."
"We'll have to figure it out as we go," Fugen nodded. "For now, let's focus on the investigation."
"My contacts in Lothern might be able to help, but it will take time to reach them, and it's been over 20 years since I've last had contact," Olica said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
"Bertrand, Davout, Raymond—your Old Guard will follow my lead. The Coldstream Guards will be under Sulia's command, with Lord Philip Montbatten taking orders from her. Until we receive new instructions, stay put and don't cause any trouble," Ryan ordered.
"Yes, sir," Bertrand and Davout exchanged glances, understanding the gravity of the situation.
"The Ashen Legion will do the same," Fugen added. "We'll wait until we know more."
"Wait, isn't our mission to form an alliance with the High El
ves?" Julius finally spoke up, puzzled and somewhat indignant. He glanced at his sister and brother-in-law before voicing his frustrations. "Why do I feel like we're planning a heist? I thought we were here to do serious diplomacy, not steal things! This isn't knightly at all."
Ryan and Fugen exchanged glances and burst into laughter, followed by the entire room, except for a confused and slightly irritated Julius, and Sulia, who struggled to hold back her own laughter as she looked at her brother with a mix of amusement and scolding.
Meanwhile, on the deck of the High Elven Phoenix flagship, Teclis stood at the bow, leaning on Lilith's Moon Staff. He seemed deep in thought, though he might have simply been lost in a trance. The High Loremaster had been standing there, unmoving, for several minutes.
"High Loremaster, do you really think those humans can help us?" Zoltan, a Hoeth Swordmaster, approached Teclis.
Teclis slowly turned his head. "Must we prove this again?"
"I didn't mean it like that, Loremaster," Zoltan replied, somewhat awkwardly.
"The Asur have long held prejudices against humanity, and it's not surprising. When we were fighting countless sacrifices and facing endless threats, humans were still living in caves," Teclis said calmly. "But that doesn't mean they're worthless. We always seem to demand that humans prove themselves again and again."
"According to Hoeth's prophecy, the fates of humans and elves are intertwined," Zoltan nodded. "But look at the humans coming to visit Ulthuan this time—a ragtag group of soldiers from the Ashen Legion, so diverse they don't even speak the same language. And yet, that Fugen has managed to keep them together."
"As for the so-called knightly kingdom of Bretonnia, it's laughable," Zoltan continued. "Hoeth help us! Can you believe it? The second-largest human kingdom in the Old World is led by foreigners, women, and dwarves. How can they win battles?"
"At least they helped us during the Battle of the Graveyard," Teclis responded calmly. "We need their fleet."
Before Zoltan could continue, a cannonball suddenly struck the side of the Phoenix flagship with a loud explosion, sending wooden splinters flying. A Lothern Sea Guard had his head blown off, his blood and brain matter splattering across the deck.
"Enemy attack!" the High Elves immediately sprang into action, soldiers and sailors rushing across the deck. Teclis remained calm, pulling out a spyglass to survey the horizon.
Far on the edge of the sea, a massive ghost ship loomed, its hull an eerie mix of pale white and ashen gray. The cursed ship was wrapped in chains, its tattered flags swaying in the wind. The ship's presence radiated a chilling cold that could freeze the blood of anyone caught in its shadow.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!" More cannon fire followed, but this time, the shots missed their mark, splashing into the water near the Phoenix ship.
More undead ships began to appear on the horizon.
"We're under attack! Prepare for battle! Signal the human fleet behind us!"
"Aye, sir!"
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