For the Old World this year, the good news has been relentless.
The barbarians appear genuinely committed to waging a brutal war against the Dark Elves—a development that has been received as fantastic news by all the human kingdoms across the Old World. We won't revisit that here.
The second great piece of news is the bountiful autumn harvest.
This year, the Old World has been blessed with favorable weather, avoiding major natural disasters entirely—a rarity. Crop yields, especially staple grains, have enjoyed an extraordinary boost, with global production up by 10-20%.
But in Bretonnia, the results have been almost miraculous: a nationwide increase in crop yields of 25-35% for Imperial Year 2514.
This is the Lady's blessing!
This is a divine miracle!
This is the great revival of the Knight's Kingdom!
Praise be to our King! Praise be to the Gray Mountains' great hero, Ryan-Macado!
Storehouses are overflowing with this bounty, from noble castles to the homes of yeomen and serfs alike. Joy radiates across social classes. A good harvest is always welcome, for with enough to meet the Church's share and the knights' dues, all the rest belongs to the people.
Currently, Bretonnia's serf system is gradually evolving, with most serfs cultivating grains primarily for their own consumption. They calculate how much they'll need and set aside enough to meet those needs, with any surplus going to market in the cities, where they can trade for extra income. More serfs have started making trips to town to buy essential goods and household items, and now, oil lamps, iron basins, iron tools, and various types of cloth are finding their way into serf households. The peasant and merchant classes are gradually stepping forward, bolstered by the recently completed Landuin Canal, which has become the kingdom's busiest transport route. Passenger and cargo ships crowd the canal to the point where King Ryan has had to dispatch river marshals and even military personnel to maintain order.
Naturally, the temples of the Lady of the Lake are destinations that no Bretonnian would think to neglect. From dawn until dusk, nearly every shrine to the Lady is thronged with people offering prayers and thanks for the harvest, grateful for the Lady's blessings upon the land and her faithful. With the remarkably generous tax reduction—from one in ten to one in fifteen—the Lady has won the hearts of all.
Meanwhile, the granaries that Ryan ordered built to store surplus grain have proven invaluable. When merchants attempted to drive down prices by coordinating to depress grain values and profit from reselling, the constant presence of well-stocked granaries effectively thwarted their schemes. Even as some food merchants tried to defy the King's will, the inexhaustible wealth of his treasury, with tens of thousands of Dwarven gold coins and Elven gold dragons flooding the market, saw all of their assets swiftly acquired by other merchants.
With prices stabilized, large quantities of grain were then transported to the bustling industrial hub of Musilon, ensuring the region's production kept running at full capacity.
Now, in this golden month of September, Knight King Ryan rides his steed, Grape, accompanied by his family, the maid Olica, and the visiting mother-daughter duo Aurora and Teresa. They stroll along the country roads, where the fields, ready for harvest, spread before them in a dazzling golden sea. Under the sunlight, the fields gleam even more brilliantly, as if the land were covered in gold. Fields are alive with busy workers, while even small children join in, picking wheat alongside their parents.
The golden autumn leaves, like beautiful butterflies, drift gracefully in the wind as if the Lady herself had scattered them across the fields. People rejoice in the year's fine weather, the coolness of the season, and the fragrant, plentiful harvest.
The bounty extends to the estates of the nobles as well, where scenes of golden corn bring back memories for Ryan of an old man wielding an ear of corn (or perhaps being wielded by one). Plump peas, black rye swaying in the breeze, and the golden hues of fall all make for a stunning autumn scene.
Ryan hums a familiar tune as he takes in the harvest:
"Our homeland, on this hopeful field, oh~
Smoke rises above the new homes~
And rivers flow by the lovely villages~"
Young Devonshire, now a strapping young lad standing at over five feet, darts around excitedly. Surya, his mother, watches him lovingly as he roams.
The sorceress Teresa, recently summoned to Gene by Ryan, is here today as well. Since she and Aurora have felt increasingly sidelined at the Sorceress's Assembly due to Veronica's influence, they eagerly answered Ryan's call. Dressed in matching dresses of deep black silk, draped with fur cloaks, Teresa has her waist-length black hair swept up with a High Elf hairpin gifted by Ryan, enhancing her striking beauty. Meanwhile, Aurora sports a simple ponytail, both wearing the same matte gray velvet stockings and pearl-studded heels that Ryan brought back from Osuan. Their dark tights and elegant attire form a striking autumnal scene of elegance and grace.
For her part, Teresa is thoroughly content with this arrangement, riding alongside Ryan on her hybrid Elven steed. Her face radiates a delicate blush as she softly shares intelligence reports with him.
Ryan listens with a mischievous grin, nodding occasionally, clearly enjoying this bit of confidante time with Teresa. Though she sits astride her horse, Teresa's attempts to keep pace after her recent "meetings" with Ryan have left her visibly affected.
"Ryan, the Assembly believes this year's Old World bounty has several causes," Teresa explains, no longer prone to her old complaints after years of privileged living under Ryan's protection. "While the Lady's blessing surely played a part, Veronica and the others believe that the extensive Chaos rituals conducted by the barbarians may also be a factor. These rituals likely drew Chaos Winds from across the land, allowing crops to flourish."
"Is that so? And intelligence still shows that the barbarians intend to face the Dark Elves?" Ryan asked, slightly uneasy.
"Yes." Teresa nods lightly, her silver eyes reflecting Ryan's image. "We've received word from Kislev and Nordland confirming it. Unfortunately, after Garland's destruction, all our previous intelligence sources were wiped out. Rebuilding will take several years."
"No blame on you." Ryan wonders if he's just being overly suspicious. All the intelligence points to the barbarians clashing with the Dark Elves. "So, Teresa, how is the Sorceress's Assembly faring lately?"
"It's progressing well. Veronica has largely completed rebuilding the council and academy," Teresa answers softly. Just as she's about to add more, Aurora interrupts.
The Sanctified Sorceress, who didn't sleep well last night thanks to her daughter and Ryan's… proximity, appears tired and irritable. "What's left to say? Your Majesty, you've handed all authority over to Veronica. Even as vice presidents, Teresa and I are often excluded from important decisions. Meetings often happen without us even knowing. Sometimes I wonder if we were better off back at Garland."
"Oh? Dissatisfied?" Ryan smiles, scrutinizing the refined yet slightly haggard Aurora. "Aurora, if you're truly unhappy, you're welcome to set up your own Assembly. Just remember, Teresa would need to stay with us."
"Mother!" Teresa scolds Aurora for her attitude, internally wondering why her mother is never satisfied despite their high status and ample resources.
"How could I start fresh now? The entire Old World knows I'm associated with you, and everyone avoids me like the plague." Aurora, frustrated, pulls the reins as her steed prances, her figure bouncing in her agitation. Realizing her words may be taken the wrong way, she quickly adds, "It's just that… could you ask Lady Morgiana to stop having me followed?"
"Nope." Ryan grins. "What Morgiana does is her choice; I don't interfere. If she ever finds fault with you, I'll enforce justice."
"Lady Aurora," Surya joins in with a friendly but firm tone, "both Ryan and I have great faith in your abilities and your work. We hope you'll live up to our expectations."
"Oh, even a small slip-up is fine," Olica chimes in from behind, her smile sweet but with an unmistakable edge. "I'll handle the justice, right, my lord?"
Aurora shivers, recalling the days she spent under Olica's supervision in the convent. Strangely, her memories of those days are foggy, with large gaps she can't seem to fill. All she can recall is Olica's unsettling smile and some odd changes in herself she can't quite define.
Just then, the voice of young Devonshire interrupts the tense atmosphere. "Uncle Angron!" He's spotted the primarch of the World Eaters relaxing on a haystack, wearing a straw hat and lazily stroking a sabertusk's chin.
The mighty Knight of Redfish Village grins as he recognizes his nephew. "Hey! Devonshire! Back from your godfather's place, eh?"
"Uncle Angron, I'm here!" The boy beams. "I came for roast lamb and steak, Uncle!"
"Good! Good!" Angron laughs, patting Devonshire on the back. "Come, boy, Uncle's got a feast for you. You'll grow up tall and strong!"
"Thanks, Uncle!"
…
Meanwhile, amid the general joy and revelry of the Old World's harvest, in the Chaos Wastes…
The newly chosen Everchosen of Chaos, Black-Iron Morkar.
Tzeentch's champion, Xahzar-Zhan'ek.
Nurgle's chosen, the Plaguebringer Festus.
Slaanesh's favored prince, Sigvald the Magnificent.
Bloodthirster Karakhan.
The Daemon Prince of Khorne, the Undefeated A'bar.
The Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, Azazel.
The Norscan High King, Vaemir Aisling.
The Wanderer U'vrik.
Below them were legions of hundreds of daemon princes, Chaos Champions, and Daemon Engines supplied by the Chaos Dwarfs. Two hundred thousand Chaos warriors and monsters assembled across the North.
"We will strike while the southerners are defenseless and harvest-bound. We will sweep across half the world, bringing ruin and ash to humanity!"
"Now… relay my orders. March forth!"
"For Chaos! For Black-Iron Morkar!"
_________________________
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