Bagratian's death was not the end of everything. On the contrary, his heroic sacrifice ignited the fighting spirit of every Kislevite.
Meanwhile, the Supreme King of Norsca, Aisling, was gravely injured by the combined assault of three gods. After the champion duel, Aisling collapsed onto one knee in pain. Before his personal guard of Chaos-blessed warriors could assist him, the Kislevite army launched a furious attack. Severely wounded, Aisling took several bullets to the chest from the rifle corps before his bodyguards managed to escort him off the battlefield.
Rokossovsky rallied his troops to counterattack. The Kislevites, fueled by grief and rage, engaged the Chaos forces in a brutal, inch-by-inch struggle. With reinforcements drawn from the southern districts and the return of the Red Navy, the Norscan Mountain Army, left leaderless after Aisling's incapacitation, fell into disarray. After paying a staggering toll of over 50,000 casualties, the Kislevites finally repelled the Norscan forces from Erengrad.
This harrowing battle came to be known as the "Wound of Ursun."
On December 15, the sun rose again over the horizon of Erengrad.
The city still stood.
A grand funeral was held within the city for Bagratian. Old men, women, and children took to the streets voluntarily to sing praises of the great Champion of the Bear God, shedding tears and mourning his loss. Bagratian's death not only galvanized Kislev's resolve but also made the Norscans realize the Kislevites' unyielding determination. In the flames and smoke, Bagratian's figure became eternal. The Bear God's visage formed in the fire, telling the Kislevites not to give up; reinforcements were on their way.
The city's morale soared.
Outside the city, the Norscan Supreme King Varmir Aisling, heavily wounded, abandoned direct assaults and opted for a siege strategy, hoping to force Erengrad into surrender. Aisling promised that if Erengrad capitulated, half the city's inhabitants would be spared as slaves of Norsca.
In response, the Kislevites hung the messenger's head on the city walls. They seized this temporary respite to repair the walls, train new recruits, and fortify defenses. Elder Ice Witch Ivanovna used her magic to create an ice wall to replace the collapsed sections of the city's fortifications.
However, just as Erengrad caught its breath, disaster struck. Betrayed by a traitor named Vlasov, the Chaos Hellcannons targeted the city's granaries with precision. Directed bombardments engulfed the entire food storage facility in flames.
Panic spread through the city, and rumors ran wild among refugees and soldiers alike.
Marshal Rokossovsky and other leaders immediately worked to calm the populace, but they knew the situation was far graver than anyone imagined.
Only about 400 tons of grain—roughly 400,000 kilograms—were salvaged. With a population of 300,000 still within Erengrad, the daily requirement to maintain minimal sustenance was at least 200,000 kilograms. The city, now entirely surrounded by barbarian forces, faced extreme difficulty obtaining food. Land routes were completely severed, and the sea was blockaded by Norscan longship fleets. The only meager supply of food came from fish beneath the frozen lake in the harbor.
The garrison was teetering on the brink of collapse.
Back in mid-November, when the siege began, soldiers, blacksmiths, and laborers received 800 grams of rye bread and a small amount of salt daily, while ordinary refugees received 400 grams. By early December, after all external supplies had been cut off, rations tightened further—soldiers and workers received just 500 grams of rye bread per day, while refugees and dependents received 250 grams. Starvation spread throughout the city.
By mid-December, after the Norscan assaults and the granary fire caused by betrayal, food supplies became critically scarce. Even the Red Navy, Winged Lancers, and Bear Riders could only get 300 grams of rye bread daily, with workers and blacksmiths receiving 250 grams, and ordinary refugees reduced to a mere 100 grams.
The quality of the bread deteriorated drastically. Bakers added various fillers to stretch the supplies, including ground legumes, animal feed, burned flour remnants, and even powder from wood shavings and crushed stones.
Hunger and exhaustion pushed the city to the brink of despair. When the Norscan Mountain Army was forced to retreat, tens of thousands of Erengrad's residents were bedridden due to malnutrition and exhaustion.
By December 20, even the worst-quality rations could no longer sustain the garrison. Hunger and the bitter winter had reduced the population from 300,000 to 280,000. The relentless cold and famine emboldened Aisling, who believed the city's fall was imminent. However, the defenders' stubborn resistance forced the wounded Supreme King to abandon hopes of an immediate breakthrough and continue the siege.
The harsh winter and snowstorms seemed to herald Erengrad's inevitable end. Even leaders of the Tsarist factions resorted to lying down for long periods to conserve energy. Aside from black bread, the only available meat came from fish under the ice, which was reserved for the Red Navy, Bear Riders, Winged Lancers, and Riflemen.
Norscans relentlessly searched for vulnerabilities. Chaos Hellcannons shelled the city daily. Ambitious Chaos champions and warriors attempted to breach the city, but the Kislevites gave no quarter. After losing over 2,000 warriors in a few days, Aisling forbade any unauthorized attacks on the walls.
The Red Navy dragged over a thousand corpses from the streets daily. Desperate Kislevites, driven mad by hunger, resorted to cannibalism. Rokossovsky and Kuznetsov issued harsh orders—those who desecrated the dead were executed. To defend Erengrad, they could not tolerate any physical or spiritual corruption, and cannibalism was the gravest offense.
Despite all efforts, Erengrad's demise seemed imminent.
By December 25, civilian food supplies were completely exhausted. Up to 2,000 people starved to death daily, with a peak of 4,000 on December 24.
Elder Ice Witch Ivanovna wrote in her diary:
"Our Tsarina Katarin never understood her people's plight. She naively believed that if her royal estate yielded 1,500 kilograms of grain per hectare, all of Kislev must achieve the same. She foolishly took every sword and grain sack from Erengrad, leaving despair and famine behind. Rokossovsky tried to save the city, but it was too late."
"It seems everything ends here. It is too painful. People may lose their lives at any moment. Refugees first become indifferent to everything, then collapse in a daze, murmuring, 'I'm just a little tired and need to rest.' Many... never rise again."
"This happens every day in Erengrad, and many starving souls don't even realize when those around them have passed away."
"But if they think this will make us surrender, Kislev's answer is clear—never!"
Such brutal warfare could not crush Erengrad's spirit.
Likewise, the city's resolve and sacrifices were not in vain. Its miraculous resistance against Chaos's destructive tide significantly boosted morale across the Old World, bought time for the Empire and Bretonnia to mobilize, and delayed Mottkin's southern advance. Facing harsh weather and Erengrad's unexpectedly fierce resistance, Mottkin feared being surrounded and slowed his march southward, giving the Old World precious time.
"I must sincerely admire Erengrad. The barbarians took only eight days to breach all of Kislev's northern defenses, but in Erengrad, they managed only a small breach in the walls. Chaos ousted Tsarina Katarin in 20 days, but in Erengrad, they could barely capture a few streets."
—Boris Todbringer, Elector of the White Wolf.
As the Empire began efforts to lift the siege, hope flickered within Erengrad.
The Nord fleet launched an operation, splitting into smaller groups to lure the Norscan longships away and sending supply ships to Erengrad. Despite over 60% of these ships being destroyed and hundreds of lives lost, 30 tons of grain made it into the city.
On land, General Middleton of Ostland rallied his forces and launched a ferocious assault on the Norscan forces south of Erengrad, creating a small breach in the siege. Though his army was eventually wiped out after sustaining over 50% casualties, the effort allowed sleds to deliver over 50 tons of grain into the city.
For the first time, Erengrad felt that the Old World had not abandoned them. The emergency supplies revived the defenders' spirits. Rations improved slightly—soldiers and workers received 500 grams of black bread daily, while civilians received 300 grams.
The Empire persisted. Troops from Hochland, Ostland, and Nord collaborated on "Operation Salya." For three days, soldiers and Nord warriors used a narrow path through the pine forests to establish a supply line. Though eventually forced out by the Norscans, they managed to deliver over 200 tons of grain and several tons of meat, salt, sugar, and vegetables into the city.
By the end of December, the renewed lifeline brought hope to Erengrad. Though its population had dwindled from 400,000 at the start of the siege to 230,000, the Norscan forces, demoralized by the bitter cold and prolonged stalemate, began to falter. Some Norscan tribes deserted their positions, retreating to the forests northeast of Erengrad to escape the cold. Their camp, including Supreme King Aisling's base in the Grovod Forest, grew increasingly disorganized.
Marshal Rokossovsky quickly identified an opportunity. With his sharp instincts, the Bear Cavalry Marshal sensed the turning point was near.
As the Kislevites sought a way to break the siege, the sound of ironclads echoed across the Kislev Bay.
The Bretonnian Navy, led by the ironclad *Enterprise*, had broken through the Norscan longship blockade and successfully reached Erengrad!
---
A Flashback to December 15
While Erengrad's defenders fought tooth and nail against the Norscan Mountain Army in the streets, events were unfolding elsewhere in the Old World.
On the border between Bretonnia and the Empire, along the road to Couronne, a grand army of chivalry had gathered.
Over 30,000 knights and retainers formed the first wave of Bretonnian forces, departing from Couronne and heading toward Marienburg.
Banners numbering in the thousands fluttered in the winter wind, accompanied by rows of lances, their pennons snapping sharply. Armored knights in gleaming mail formed a vast assembly. The heraldry of dukes, marquises, counts, barons, and knightly families created a vibrant tapestry against the frostbitten landscape.
It was as though a grand knightly tournament had come to life.
The northern nobility of Bretonnia, together with the forces of Bastonne, had pitched camp here.
At the heart of the encampment, under the banner of the Sword and Lily of the Grail, the Knights of the Realm rallied around their king, Ryan. Mounted on his pure-blooded elven steed, *Grape*, the Knight King led the column. Beside him, riding a unicorn named *Sylphane*, was the Fay Enchantress Morgiana. Behind them were ten Grail Knights from Couronne, eight of Morgiana's Grail Guards, and twelve from the Brotherhood of the Red Dragon.
Flanking Ryan were the kingdom's finest commanders and wizards.
Regent Lauen, Duke Berchmond of the Red Dragon, Duke Hagen of Gisoreux, and Veronica, the Chairwoman of the Sorceress Council, were among them. They were joined by Aurora and Theresa of the Seventh Intelligence Division.
"Make way for the King!"
"Make way!"
"Make way for the Fay Enchantress!"
The crowd erupted as Ryan and Morgiana entered the camp. Ryan wore a relaxed expression, while Morgiana maintained a composed, icy demeanor.
"Long live the King!" the soldiers cheered in unison, their voices thundering across the winter air.
Ryan acknowledged the cheers with a raised hand, and the troops responded with deafening enthusiasm.
Veronica, riding behind Ryan, gleamed with delight, her eyes sparkling. She reveled in the admiration, savoring every moment.
Aurora and Theresa, meanwhile, felt overwhelmed by the grandeur of the scene. For the first time, the mother-daughter duo fully grasped the immense power and influence Ryan wielded. Every action he took inspired awe and devotion, as countless people looked to him to lead Bretonnia from one victory to the next.
"Veronica, Theresa," Ryan turned back to speak, his tone lighthearted. "What do you think?"
"It's magnificent, dear," Veronica replied sweetly. "I love it!"
"Are we camping here tonight?" Theresa, ever practical, focused on logistics. "Mother and I will set up near your tent."
"Yes, we'll camp here. This march will take us to the other side of the Old World," Ryan said, laughing. Then he turned to Morgiana. "Would you mind organizing dinner tonight? I'll inspect the area in the meantime."
"How many should I prepare for?" Morgiana's icy demeanor melted slightly as she glanced at Ryan, her cheeks faintly flushed. Their journey together had been intimate, with Morgiana often seeking his company. She felt deeply content and was in particularly good spirits.
"Invite the dukes, Veronica, Theresa, and Aurora to the royal tent for dinner," Ryan replied.
"Understood."
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