The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

In Couronne, the city lights are lit every night. Different areas have different lights; some are high-end magical lamps, while others are simple torches. Squads of soldiers and peasant militias patrol the walls and streets, restoring order to the thousand-year-old city, now free from the shadow of the undead.

Inside the private chapel of the Couronne royal palace, the colorful glass dome reflects a kaleidoscope of lights. Imported carpets from Tyrell and exquisite tapestries woven by the Prophetesses of the Lake decorate the room, along with paintings and sculptures depicting the great stories of ancestors. Among these, the most numerous are the glorious deeds of the first Duke of Connaught, Cariode the Brave.

Cariode the Brave and the first Duke of Leonasse, "Fearless" Shirruve, were brothers. In their youth, they went hunting together and unexpectedly encountered a lion. Surprisingly, they managed to kill the adult lion together and wore its skin, gaining fame throughout Bretonnia. After Arthur's rise, Shirruve and Cariode joined the "Grail Companions" one after another.

Thus, the Connaught (also known as Coronnet) family crest features a red and blue rearing lion, while Leonasse's crest has a white background with a red fire-breathing lion. Both chose the lion as an important part of their crest because of this story.

Over time, the Duke of Connaught more frequently occupied the knightly throne, primarily because the capital, Couronne, is located within Connaught. Therefore, the Duke of Connaught always had more opportunities.

Lawen Leoncornwall, fully armed, knelt alone in his family's private chapel. His face showed the weakness of someone recently recovered from a severe illness.

Northern Bretonnia had turned into a nightmare, overrun by the undead and incessant rebellions. Matthew Bard and his undead army had reached Couronne, nearly destroying the kingdom.

When Lawen awoke, order had been restored, but he was left with an exhausted and fragmented knightly class and starving peasants. The capital's intact state was perhaps the only good news, but the entire city buzzed with a terrible rumor: "The Viper" Matthew Bard was Duke Lawen's illegitimate son.

Lawen could not dispute this; he didn't want to. A noble Holy Grail Knight never lies. He had never intended to deny that Matthew Bard was his illegitimate son. This was his sin, one he had to bear alone.

The face of the child's mother occasionally flashed before Lawen's eyes, plunging him into deep sorrow.

"In the end, I protected nothing—neither my family, my children, my subordinates, nor myself."

"The Viper" Matthew Bard had perished by the Sannes River. His conqueror, Count Ryan—now Duke of Mousilon—was leading a large coalition of Bretonnian knights, Imperial mercenaries, dwarf allies, and Wood Elf armies, sweeping through Mousilon to reclaim the territory lost for three hundred years. Meanwhile, Lawen had taken weeks to recover from his severe illness and injuries.

Outside Richard Castle, Lawen had nearly died under Matthew Bard's venomous sword. His gryphon, Bequis, had saved him, but they had to survive in the wild for a long time, dragging their injured bodies without food or medicine. They had almost perished in the wilderness.

The only thing that saved him was the Couronne Sword in his hand. This artifact emitted a bright light, guiding him. The sword's constant warm flow replenished his strength. Bretonnia's northern wilderness was not safe, with marauding Norscans, scattered greenskin tribes, and occasional undead nearly driving Lawen to despair.

He finally returned to Couronne, only to fall gravely ill.

Pain, guilt, sorrow, and shame almost crushed Lawen. Many times he nearly succumbed to his illness, feeling the call of hell. Only the Lady's voice, soft as unicorn fur, brought him strength. Her divine power kept him alive, encouraging him to face reality with courage.

In his agony, Lawen begged the goddess to let him leave the world peacefully, to end his duties and mission, and let his soul be redeemed.

But his mistress refused. Her voice, sharp as a blade, denied his request. She coldly told Lawen that he could not end his duty, could not seek escape. Having enjoyed the Grail's blessings and glory, he had to pay the corresponding price. The Lady would not allow his cowardice and evasion.

A lifetime of knightly spirit and devout dedication had determined Lawen's choice. He could not refuse the Lady's demand; he would obey, he had to obey.

Thus, the goddess's power pulled him back from the brink of death. Lawen grasped hope and his life.

Now, the recovered Lawen Leoncornwall knelt before the Lady's statue. Every tapestry, painting, and sculpture in the room spoke of his family's ancient history. At the room's end stood the statue of the Lady of the Lake, her face serene, her will hidden behind an enigmatic smile, unfathomable and inviolable.

"My Lady, what should I do?" Lawen asked softly, gripping the Couronne Sword. Its bright light dispelled the room's gloom. The candles burned brightly, much like the education he had received since childhood. Lawen repeatedly prayed for the goddess's answer, yearning to hear her guidance as he had during his illness.

But only silence answered him.

"Lawen, are you there?" came an old voice from outside.

"I'm here, Uncle."

King Richard entered, wearing a light blue silk robe and a white satin shirt. "Feeling better?"

"Much better." Lawen turned to see his uncle, noticing a subtle change in Richard over the past few days.

When he was king, Richard exuded a natural aura of strength, despite his age.

But since Lawen's recovery, Richard's demeanor had changed. He now seemed like an ordinary old man, even a bit scholarly and gentle. They sat facing each other in the room.

The future king had been decided, and his uncle had laid down his burden. Lawen understood.

Richard spoke kindly, "The kingdom council has concluded. Neither Morgiana nor Bohemond, Francois, or Ryan intend to pursue your mistakes. Ryan even suggested you continue as regent. This is good news."

"Uncle..." Lawen, ashamed, lowered his head. "I've failed your trust."

"It's alright." Richard waved his hand, smiling. "Actually, this might be for the best. I've come to realize that neither I nor you might have been able to lead this kingdom out of its predicament."

"Ryan is a remarkable knight." Lawen couldn't deny his relief at the news. "If not for him, Matthew Bard would have overthrown the kingdom."

Richard didn't respond. Instead, he smiled and said, "In fact, this country was close to being overthrown even without Matthew Bard. The undead outbreak was just a trigger. This kingdom is like a runaway carriage, and we've long since lost the horses. We've been desperately holding onto it, running with it."

"Uncle?" Lawen chuckled, shaking his head. "That's quite an analogy..."

"I'm not joking," Richard said, stroking his beard. "When did we lose the horses? Probably after the Dol Tower incident. Since then, the runaway carriage has been speeding up uncontrollably. We kings have only managed to hold it together, trying to steer it. Emperor Taylor used all his might to push the carriage back on track. John I and John II thought they could control the reins, but they almost drove the carriage into a ditch."

Lawen listened silently, feeling a pang of sadness. He knew what Richard was leading to.

"When I first became king, didn't I try to control the carriage?" Richard continued. "I tried, but I saw more clearly than John I and John II that this kingdom couldn't be controlled anymore. After the initial setbacks, I spent the next thirty years as a mediator, balancing the dukes' relationships, maintaining stability and compromise."

"It wasn't that I didn't want to; I couldn't. If I had insisted on controlling the carriage, I would have ended up like John II, pulled down from the throne." Richard sighed. "Now, even if you became king, with more strength and talent, you could hold on better than I did, but you couldn't stop the runaway carriage or bring back the lost horses."

"Uncle..." Tears filled Lawen's eyes. After the recent upheaval, he understood Richard's stance better. He had once criticized Richard's inaction but now saw it wasn't inaction but inability to change things. "Then how can Ryan do it?"

"Have you seen the Empire's steam tanks?" Richard laughed. "Ryan gave up on finding the horses. He saw the problem more clearly than anyone. With his strength, he held onto the carriage while slowly replacing parts, adding new ones, and phasing out the old. Gradually, he's transformed the wooden carriage into a semi-steam-powered iron one. Now, the horses aren't as crucial, but Ryan also found those horses."

"He's controlling the carriage and preparing to re-harness the horses."

"Mousilon... is those horses!" Lawen exclaimed. "I understand!"

"Yes, Mousilon is the key. Every king knew that," Richard nodded. "But knowing it and reclaiming it are different."

"Now, let's see if Ryan can do it." Richard concluded, stroking his graying beard. "Lawen, your father, Louis, visited and left a message for me to pass on."

"Probably not words of praise," Lawen said, recalling his father, Louis the Just, with a bitter smile.

"He said, 'You reap what you sow.'"

"Hahaha!" Lawen laughed bitterly, his laughter filled

 with sorrow. "Indeed, I reap what I sow."

...We reap what we sow...

Early July, the cursed city of Mousilon.

An army of over twenty thousand surrounded the city. The undead defenders were at their lowest numbers ever. The blood dragon vampire family dared not venture out, preparing to defend their stronghold to the death.

No one doubted that Ryan's knightly army would conquer Mousilon Castle.

But the situation soon became problematic.

Ryan's army besieged the city for a week. Dozens of cannons fired, Wood Elf arrows rained down, and dwarf gunners unleashed volleys, suppressing the vampire counterattacks. Yet Mousilon's walls stood firm, seemingly mocking the knights' efforts.

Despite the fierce assault, the high walls showed no signs of falling. The vampires inside were determined to resist to the end. Bellegar's repeated attempts to storm the gates were repelled by undead blood waves or poison gas. The river's location made tunneling impossible.

The only effective siege weapon was the magical crystal cannon, "Morgiana's New Toy." It blasted breaches in the walls, causing them to shake, but the undead sorcerers quickly repaired the damage with necromancy, using tireless skeletons to fill the gaps.

In the knightly army camp, Ryan and his commanders were troubled by the stalemate.

"It seems we need to change our plan."

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