The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

Holding the bloodstained eagle banner, Ryan's gaze grew distant. He signaled Veronica to follow him outside. "You're familiar with the Crimson Blaze Expedition, also known as the Crusade of Araby, right?"

"Of course," Veronica nodded, though puzzled. "But what does this eagle banner have to do with the Crusade of Araby? Which knightly order does it belong to?"

The Crusade had given rise to numerous knightly orders, and Veronica wondered if this was one she hadn't heard of.

"No, this banner belongs to the Knights of Magritte. The eagle, spear, and blazing sun are their symbols. The order was founded to resist the desert cavalry of Araby. At its peak, it had three thousand knights," Ryan began explaining the banner's history.

"Three thousand knights?! My goodness, how did such a force not establish a knightly kingdom? You know, the first King Arthur and his twelve Holy Grail companions commanded only eight thousand knights!" Veronica couldn't contain her surprise. Since establishing her wizard tower in Ryan's domain, she had studied Bretonnian history extensively.

"After Magritte fell to the Arabian invaders, the Knights of Magritte were formally established. Almost all the knights of Estalia joined the order, swearing to exact blood for blood from the Arabians. Over nine years of liberation warfare in Estalia, their numbers grew as imperial knights and Bretonnian knights joined their cause," Ryan continued as they exited the farmhouse, taking in the sunset. Veronica picked up his narrative, smiling as she spoke, "The knights eventually expelled all Arabian armies from Estalia, pursuing them back into the desert, where they decapitated King Jaffar of Araby and burned his palace filled with forbidden knowledge and dark artifacts. Hundreds of ships carried back an incalculable wealth of gold, gems, amber, wax, timber, and furs from the desert."

"Indeed. Both the Empire and Bretonnian knights amassed tremendous wealth from that campaign," Ryan agreed. "For the Estalian knights of the Magritte order, even more so."

"Then why?" Veronica pressed on. "Why did this order vanish?"

As they mounted their horses to head back to Bilbari for the night, Ryan continued, "Because of division."

"The Knights of Magritte didn't just want to expel the Arabians; they aimed to establish a true knightly kingdom in Araby. They invested heavily in building castles in the desert and fought the fragmented Arabian tribes. But in the end, they weren't desert people. After losing many outposts, they were forced to return to Estalia."

"And then?" Veronica prompted, urging Ryan to continue.

"Then? The knights refused to give up. They continued to raise funds and seek support from the Estalian people. Initially, southern merchants and nobles backed them. But, as you know, Veronica, with King Jaffar dead and the unified kingdom of Araby fragmented into small tribes, trade with the Old World resumed. Once the profits rolled in, neither nobles nor merchants wanted to continue the war," Ryan explained with a bitter smile, recalling how similar this was to his own situation after defeating Egil-Red-Eye.

"The nobles and merchants started to suppress the knights. The order faced legal and financial pressures. Realizing they were no longer welcome, the knights made a fateful decision."

"They chose to embark on a new expedition. All knights willing to follow the Grand Master set sail from Estalia and never returned. As they departed, the Grand Master of the Knights of Magritte cursed the nobles and merchants from the ship, declaring that for forsaking their hatred and abandoning the chance for a united Estalia for petty short-term gains, they would be cursed. In the name of Myrmidia, the Goddess of War, he swore that Estalia would never be united until the Knights of Magritte returned."

"It seems the curse is still effective today," Veronica noted. Indeed, Estalia and Tilea had never been united, remaining fragmented into perpetually warring city-states despite the best efforts of their nobles.

"'Estalia?' Yes! We're all Estalians, but Estalia is just a place name. Friend, this is Bilbali, that's Magritte, and over there is Zaragoza. Where is Estalia? Estalia is only on the map."

— Roberto Villanova, Estalian Merchant

"The situation is becoming more complex," Ryan frowned, tucking the letter into his coat and handing the bloodstained eagle banner to Veronica. "The remaining knights of Magritte reformed into three different orders. Can you guess which three?"

Veronica examined the banner closely, her expression growing increasingly grave. "This pattern… the eagle, the blazing sun, and the spear of justice?!"

"Correct. The Knights of Magritte were the progenitors of these three orders," Ryan said with a cold smile. "If, and I stress if, the Knights of Magritte still exist and the treasure they're transporting is the Trident of the Sea God, then we're in serious trouble."

"We'll have to take it one step at a time," Veronica's face mirrored Ryan's concern. She even started to think about advising Ryan to stay away from this whirlpool of danger.

The implications were severe.

The Eagle Knights, with branches starting in Estalia and extending across Estalia, Tilea, the Border Princes, and the Empire, numbered over a thousand knights!

The Order of the Spear of Justice, while not known for their combat prowess, maintained a presence in every city within the Empire, primarily focusing on law and order.

The Knights of the Blazing Sun were one of the seven great knightly orders of the Empire, just below the top three orders of the Old World. They were the third-largest order in the Empire and served as the guardian knights of Talabecland and the city of Talabheim!

Any misstep in dealing with this could potentially spark a full-scale war between Bretonnia and the Empire!

---

Earlier in the day, three hours before Ryan and Veronica's discovery, the southern lands of the Old World, in Estalia, Bilbali, Red Bull Inn.

Holy Grail Knight Fidmond, Templar Knight Alfred, and the dark elf Olica entered the inn.

Fidmond instinctively moved to ask the innkeeper directly but was stopped by Alfred, who went to the bar and tossed three silver coins on the counter. "Three Imperial dark beers, please."

"Certainly, sir." The innkeeper bit into the coins to verify their authenticity, pleased with the genuine silver. He promptly went to pour the beers.

"Estalian silver often has other metals mixed in," Alfred whispered to Fidmond. "Patience, we need to find the right opportunity. If you ask directly, the innkeeper will most likely refuse to speak."

"Alright," Fidmond nodded, taking Alfred's advice to heart after witnessing Ryan's prowess. He tried to be patient and observed Alfred's conversational techniques.

Olica, with her face covered by a mask and clad in a hooded cloak, managed to keep her identity hidden. However, her attire stood out in the warm and peaceful southern climate, drawing curious glances from the patrons. Some young men even whistled at her, attracted by her slender figure and the tight fit of her cloak. "Hey, miss, care for a drink? I can tell you anything you want to know, or we could discuss things more privately if you like!"

"Yeah, come on over, miss. I've got a big gun that's ready to fire anytime!"

"Come on, let's talk about bullfighting techniques."

"Are you interested in Flamenco singing? I've heard some great performances in Magritte. Want to discuss?"

"My Estalian seafood paella is fresh and delicious. Let's have dinner together!"

The constant advances annoyed Fidmond. Bound by Ryan's orders not to resort to violence, Olica raised her hand, showing a silver ring with a mysterious engraving on her left ring finger.

"Oh! My, my, this is a free country. Just because you're married doesn't mean we can't pursue you!"

"Freedom isn't a crime! We have the right to pursue! This is the land of freedom!"

"Freedom forever!"

Despite the ring, the male patrons continued to pester her until the innkeeper intervened. A middle-aged, rotund man, he tapped a complexly engraved beer keg and filled three mugs. "Enough! You guys, this lady is clearly married. If she's not interested, stop bothering her."

"No! It's our right to pursue her. We have freedom!" a drunken man declared loudly.

"Yes, you have your freedom, but this is my inn! And if you keep bothering this lady, I have the freedom to throw you out!" The innkeeper pulled a knife from the table and shouted angrily. "Pay up or get out. This is my property, my freedom!"

"Uh… freedom… we want complete freedom." Seeing the knife, the drunk relented and returned to his seat.

"You're from Bretonnia, right?" The innkeeper addressed his guests, still cleaning the wooden mugs. "It's rare to see a Holy Grail Knight and a Templar Knight in my humble establishment."

"We're from the north, from the beautiful and wealthy Kingdom of Knights," Alfred replied, taking a sip of his beer. Casually, he asked, "We're here on business and heard there were quite a few knights from the north around recently?"

"Oh, yes, a group of northern knights stayed here recently, but they left this morning," the innkeeper confirmed with a nod.

They left this morning? Fidmond frowned, thinking they might have missed their chance.

"This morning?" Alfred feigned surprise. "That's odd. We were supposed to meet them. Why would they leave so early?"

"Oh? You're friends of theirs? But

 you don't look like it… a Holy Grail Knight and a Templar Knight. You're not here to hunt them down, are you?" The innkeeper's demeanor shifted to suspicion, eyeing Fidmond's expression and stance. "I'll tell you, in this business, we don't reveal our guests' information. This isn't the Empire or Bretonnia. This is a free land, and I won't help you with your investigation!"

Damn it! Alfred subtly nudged Fidmond's knee under the bar, signaling him to relax. Alfred smiled awkwardly, thinking of how to continue extracting information.

Just then, Olica took action. Whispering a spell, she extended her hand and lightly tapped the air, enveloping the innkeeper in a faint, purple-black magical aura. "But you would be willing to tell us, wouldn't you?"

"Yes… yes, I should tell you," the innkeeper's face went blank, nodding repeatedly. "I will tell you."

"Then speak," Olica demanded impatiently, her amber eyes flashing with a hint of annoyance.

"They left someone behind to wait for news."

"Where is this person?"

"In the basement, in the left-hand storage room."

"Let's go!"

The three immediately stood up and hurried towards the basement, leaving the dazed innkeeper behind. "Wait, guests, don't you want more beer?"

Navigating the dimly lit hallway, they found the left-hand storage room. 

Alfred knocked on the door. "Hello?"

A voice from inside responded, "Who is it?"

"We're priests here to distribute aid!" Alfred replied enthusiastically, his green eyes sparkling with feigned kindness. "We heard there's someone in need here. We're from the Church of Justice, bringing food stamps. With this voucher, you can get a free barley bread and apple cider at the church!"

"Aid?!" The voice inside hesitated for a moment, sounding hoarse and peculiar. "Well, I am hungry. Come in, the door's not locked."

"Thank you…" Alfred pushed open the door.

The Templar Knight froze in his tracks, and Fidmond and Olica instinctively reached for their weapons.

In the middle of the basement, atop a pile of straw, lay a human corpse. The wandering knight had been dead for some time.

A female vampire was greedily sucking and gnawing at the corpse's flesh and blood. Seeing the newcomers, she wiped the blood from her face with her sleeve and grinned malevolently.

"Oh! What a delicious aid package."

"Don't mind if I help myself."

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