The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

After placing several large iron balls deep in the culverts under the city walls, the dwarf engineers confirmed there were no issues and nodded to the people outside. "All set!"

"Good!" Chief Engineer Harald Goldseeker nodded back. "We are ready!"

Sorceress Teresa continued chanting her magic, unleashing all her power without caring about her mana consumption.

"Ice Explosion!"

"Frost Freeze!"

Thick frost sprayed continuously from the tip of her Violet Staff, sealing off the water flow on the side of the culverts within Mousilon. Her magic blocked the water channels, consuming a large amount of her mana. Teresa's eyes were full of concentration, her silver pupils glowing with deep blue ice magic energy. Even her breath could freeze a small pond.

The water flow in the culverts was fast, and without Teresa's continuous freezing, the initially sealed entrance would thaw within seconds, especially since it was summer and the ice melted quickly. Teresa couldn't gather enough mana from the environment, making it tough for her. Soon, sweat appeared on her forehead, only to freeze into small ice crystals.

"Is it ready yet? Where is Mr. Alfred?" Teresa asked anxiously while continuing her spell. "Hurry, I can't hold this much longer, and if the ice holds for too long, the undead in the city will notice something's wrong!"

Due to the dampness of both ground and air, the dwarf engineers knew that the fuses wouldn't work well in such a wet environment.

"He's here!" Veronica arrived with Alfred, who was dressed in standard knight plate armor. His armor was covered with thick scriptures and protected by magic from the sorceresses, with ice barriers and ice armor already in place. Additionally, Veronica cast another protection spell, "Fi's Light of Shelter."

"Use this to ignite the bomb," Veronica handed Alfred a burning torch infused with a huge amount of fire magic energy. Alfred could immediately feel its power upon receiving it. "Understood."

"Alright, once we withdraw, you can ignite the explosives," Veronica instructed. "Don't stay too close, throw the torch when you're at a safe distance, then use your Holy Shield to escape!"

"Got it... But why a torch?" Alfred asked nervously, "I thought it would be a grenade or something."

"Because I like torches. Doesn't it seem particularly knightly for a templar to run with a torch?" Veronica laughed.

Alfred rolled his eyes.

"The real reason is that torches are stable, can store enough energy, and delay the explosion. It's the best way to ignite the bombs," Veronica explained seriously.

"Thank you." Alfred smiled awkwardly, feeling the weight of his responsibility. He gripped the torch tightly. "Ryan has helped me so much, but I've never managed to assist in significant events. I often watch you and Teresa use magic to help him. I must do something."

"You will, Alfred. Don't be disheartened. You'll find someone better than that waitress," Veronica reassured him, knowing about his past in Estalia from Ryan. She understood his eagerness to prove himself.

Men are like this; the difference is that Ryan no longer needs to prove himself, while Alfred still needs such an achievement. Ryan and Veronica understood that when Alfred volunteered, it meant he was determined.

"Let's retreat," Veronica signaled the group. Teresa stopped her spellcasting. "Move quickly, Mr. Alfred. My ice wall won't hold the water for long."

The dwarf engineers, sorceresses, and witches withdrew from the culvert, leaving Alfred alone.

"Alright, let's do this!" Alfred waited for three minutes after everyone left, enough time for them to reach a safe distance.

"Drip... drip!" The ice wall started to melt under the water pressure, and the sound of water approached quickly.

Alfred laughed to himself. "Come on, Alfred, you can do this!"

The templar knight sprinted through the cold, damp culvert, torch in hand.

"Splash... splash..." His iron boots splashed in the muddy water.

"One!" Alfred began to slow down as he calculated the distance.

"Two!" He leaned back, preparing to throw.

"Three!!" The torch flew from his hand, spinning in the air and heading straight for the iron balls filled with gunpowder.

"For justice! I grant you judgment!" The torch, infused with magical flames, approached the iron balls.

"Run!!!" Alfred turned and ran. Within seconds, a massive explosion deafened him, and a powerful shockwave surged toward him!

"Holy Shield!!!" The templar knight cast his protective spell.

A golden ring enveloped him, the Holy Shield taking effect!

But Alfred barely had time to breathe. The golden ring cracked under the immense force of the explosion, spreading fissures all over it.

"Boom!" In Alfred's stunned expression, the Holy Shield shattered!

Teresa's ice armor flashed briefly before the explosion's flames and waves engulfed it!

The ice barrier activated but only lasted two seconds before shattering.

"Ugh!" Flames engulfed Alfred, burning his hair and scriptures. The templar knight was blown away by the blast.

Damn... I overestimated myself, Alfred thought as his body flew uncontrollably. He gritted his teeth, using his last bit of strength to cast a Holy Light spell to heal himself temporarily. Then he pushed through the pain to escape.

He was almost at the culvert exit!

"Young people are always so confident," a man in blood-red armor and a blood dragon crown appeared at the exit. His presence suppressed everything, even the flames seemed to shrink back from him. "Honor and faith, a firm will, and a resolve to die. I admire you, young man."

"Ugh..." Alfred couldn't hear clearly through the ringing in his ears. Before he could respond, the man grabbed his arm and threw him into the air with incredible strength. Alfred, weighing nearly 300 pounds with his armor, flew towards safety. "Your mission is complete, go rest."

The next moment, the man was engulfed by the flames and shockwaves of the explosion.

Damn, his strength... I think my arm is dislocated, Alfred thought before losing consciousness.

"Boom!"

"Boom... boom!"

Deafening explosions echoed across the Mousilon battlefield. 

The walls of Mousilon collapsed in a tremendous roar. The thirty-meter-high wall crumbled under the shockwave, causing chaos.

"Boom——!!"

A fiery wave burst from beneath the walls, accompanied by a thunderous explosion. Thick smoke rose like a sandstorm, and scarlet flames bloomed like deadly flowers, displaying the full power of the dwarven gunpowder.

The explosion was so intense it almost made the Grisomer River flow backward. The wall continued to collapse, and debris rained down like a meteor shower, wreaking havoc. François had led the Pegasus Knights away from the blast zone, but the Pegasi were still frightened, flying wildly despite their riders' commands.

The undead defenders on the wall were blown into the sky, disintegrating in the explosion and falling as bone fragments.

"Hahaha! This is exhilarating!" Araloth, riding his giant eagle, felt no fear, only thrill. The young woodland lord loved battle, adventure, and new experiences. He and his Taras Warhawk Guard had flown far from the explosion's range, and Araloth was already thinking about the stories he'd tell at the campfire when they returned to Athel Loren.

"We did it!" Seeing the walls collapse, Ryan, mounted on his griffon, clenched his fist and shouted with joy. "We did it! Mousilon is ours!"

But his joy was short-lived, as concern quickly filled his mind. Did Alfred make it out?

There was no time to dwell on it. Ryan raised his hammer and shouted, "Knights! Forward! Reclaim Mousilon! For the Lady! For Bretonnia! For Landuin!"

"For the Lady! For Bretonnia!" The knights, eager and ready, surged forward.

The tide of soldiers poured through the breach in the wall, storming into Mousilon.

"What?" The blood dragon vampires commanding the defense were stunned. "What happened?"

"Hold the line! Hold the line!" Vampires tried to organize a counterattack, but without the wall's protection, how could the undead withstand the knights' charge?

"Die!" Red Dragon Duke Berhemond led the charge into the castle, smashing five skeleton warriors with his giant mace. "Undead! Face the Lady's judgment!"

"What happened? Why did the wall..." As the blood dragon vampires discussed, a figure in blood-red armor approached, decapitating an undead sorcerer with incredible speed. The vampires only saw him raise his arm slightly before the sorcerer's head fell.

The vampires wanted to question him, but a deep connection stirred within them. Blood called to blood, a resonance from their very souls, making them tremble. "You are...?"

"Come with me, my progeny," the figure, removing his blood dragon crown, spoke calmly. "Time to leave."

"Ancestor?!"

"Master!"

"It's Prince Wallace!"

The blood dragons exclaimed, many kneeling. "Ancestor, you finally came!"

"Save us, save Mousilon!"

"Enough, it's enough. You've fought well," Ebo Wallace sighed. "It's time to leave."

"Yes!" The blood knights and vampires could not defy him. They answered loudly, then began to withdraw from the battlefield under his command.

Those most stubborn and unwilling to retreat were dragged away by Ebo Wallace himself. The powerful blood knights, feared in the Old World, were like helpless chicks in his hands, unable to resist.

Following Ryan's planned route, the blood knights and Ebo Wallace disappeared into the forest, leaving Bretonnia for good.

Without the blood knights' support, the tide of Order forces finally overwhelmed Mousilon after a day's assault.

The undead control of Mousilon, which had lasted for three hundred years, ended on this day.

Under Ryan's leadership, Mousilon was officially reclaimed for Bretonnia!

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