The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

Old World, Bretonnia, early July, the cursed city of Mousilon.

Ryan finally entered Mousilon as a victor.

The once impregnable castle had fallen before him. Ryan led his troops into this fortress-city hybrid with the joy of a conqueror.

The low houses were linked together in patches. All the residents had surrendered, and the undead were completely destroyed. Now, all that remained were fewer than twenty thousand residents and countless dilapidated houses, twisted streets, filthy gutters, and waterlogged roads.

Yet, despite this, traces of the city's former glory were still visible. Mousilon was divided into two districts by a branch of the Grisomer River—the North District and the South District. At its peak, the city could accommodate a hundred thousand people. During the reign of Landuin's heir, Lanskot, the city's prosperity rivaled that of the capital, Couronne.

Mousilon was more than ten times larger than Ryan's current seat, Jean Town.

The North District was mainly composed of the Lost District and the Shantytown. The Lost District was the rich area, where the remaining few noble families of Mousilon resided. The inner castle, the famous Merovingian Castle, stood here, where the vampires ruled.

The Shantytown, also known as the Dock District, was where many serfs eked out a living. There was also a temple to the sea god Manann near the docks, which continued to operate with the vampires' tacit approval, although it didn't preach and only accepted offerings and worship. There were no priests or bishops stationed here, only dock workers who self-organized to maintain the temple's operations.

The South District consisted of the Temple District, the Commercial District, and the Bridge District. The Temple District even retained the ruins of a Grail Chapel, although it had been closed for over three hundred years. The Commercial District was filled with taverns, brothels, opium dens, fighting pits, and other dark, addictive places. These were prime targets for cleansing by the Grail Knights.

The Bridge District, home to the few freemen, was also called the "Corrupt Paradise," the most chaotic and lawless area. In the middle of the river stood the ancient island of Landuin Street, where Landuin spent his later years in seclusion and recuperation.

The sky was overcast, with low-hanging clouds mixed with the residual smoke from the explosions and fires, creating a haze over Mousilon. The air was filled with the stench of burning. Veronica and Teresa wrinkled their noses at the smell. Both witches had a certain level of cleanliness and preferred tidy environments.

"So, is this where Ryan will be based from now on?" Veronica said, her sweet face showing a hint of disdain. "It's dirty, chaotic, and awful. I swear, I'm not moving here."

"Neither am I, but I suppose the city will be rebuilt and renovated?" Teresa also felt uncomfortable in this environment. Exhausted from overusing her magic, she barely managed to endure the scorching July sun. "Oh, I've had enough. I need to get to the carriage!"

"Go ahead," Veronica replied indifferently, already considering the location for her new magic shop.

Ahead of the group, Ryan, Berhemond, and François were also discussing Mousilon.

"For three hundred years, Bretonnia besieged Mousilon over twenty times," François said, looking at the streets of Mousilon. "But every time, they failed. Finally, Ryan, you did it. You've reclaimed this lost land. You're now the true Duke of Mousilon!"

"Three hundred years," Berhemond nodded, his rough voice resonating. "After the Dol Tower incident, Duke Connaught of Madred was declared a traitor by the true King of Knights, Tylervold. After ending the civil war, Tylervold and the other dukes besieged Mousilon for three years but couldn't take the castle. Instead, they lost many soldiers and consumed a vast amount of supplies."

"Mousilon didn't fare well either. The castle fell into famine and disease. Duke Madred died of red pox after his days of debauchery. Confirming Madred's death, King Tylervold withdrew the siege and declared Mousilon a barren land, unworthy of a ducal rule."

Ryan nodded, fully understanding the difficulty of taking Mousilon. Even with the defenders' numbers reduced to the minimum, he and his army still had to put in a great deal of effort to capture the castle.

Moreover, if not for the intervention and negotiation of the Blood Dragon Patriarch, they would have faced brutal street fighting even after breaching the castle, further depleting their already exhausted troops.

The once grand city lay in ruins. Ryan sighed as he looked at the desolate scene. "This city was once one of the main cities of the High Elves in the Old World! It was a famed city known as the Pearl of the West Coast!"

"It will flourish again," François said after a moment of thought, trying to comfort his son-in-law. "You've inherited a blank slate. While there's nothing here now, you can shape it according to your vision!"

Seeming to recall something, Ryan finally smiled. "Yes, that's true."

Imperial General Dietrich and his lieutenant, Boris von Zhukov, marveled at the sights of Mousilon. Dietrich remarked, "Boris, have you ever been to Mordheim?"

"No, they say only the most heinous criminals and daring adventurers go there," Boris replied gruffly. "Do I look like either of those, sir?"

"I've been there," Dietrich said. "In my youth, I was ordered to investigate Mordheim. The scene there was much like this."

"To conquer such a fortress, Ryan-Malcador is indeed a remarkable man," Boris von Zhukov changed the subject, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "The battle is almost over. It's time for us to return."

"A few days of rest first," Dietrich nodded. "There's no rush. We've suffered significant losses in this battle—five thousand men reduced to just over two thousand. We'll need to claim more compensation."

The army gradually approached the Merovingian Castle in the North District.

The Merovingian Castle was a triple-layered fortress with an outer wall, inner keep, and central tower. Built during the reign of the Mad Duke Merovingian, it had a five-hundred-year history. After the Mad Duke's incident, it was abandoned and partially destroyed, but soon rebuilt. The black high walls, vampire statues, and black background with gold snake crest were recent additions.

Both dwarves and wood elves found the castle quite discomforting. Belgar muttered about demolishing and rebuilding the eerie structure, while Aralos thought of planting more trees to purify the corruption.

Now, with Masupad dead and the Blood Dragons fully withdrawn, the castle gates stood open. Inside were only the accumulated treasures of the vampires. As Ryan and his companions approached the gate, Templar Knight Alfred emerged from the side. "Ryan! My friend, you've taken Mousilon! Such an achievement, shouldn't you leave an inscription at the castle gate?"

"What can a country bumpkin from Norsca write?" Ryan laughed heartily.

Alfred had been found unconscious near a small pond outside the city after the siege, with a dislocated arm and bruises all over. Fortunately, he was otherwise unharmed. He seemed to have been affected by the explosion and had little memory of the bomb detonation, only recalling running desperately after lighting the fuse and then being blown away.

Veronica surmised that Alfred was likely blown out of the exit.

For his role in capturing Mousilon, Alfred deserved the highest credit.

The Templar Knight, wrapped in bandages with only his right hand free, pushed Ryan playfully. "Write something, you're a duke now! Leave a famous quote or something."

"Indeed, Ryan, write something. It'll be a keepsake," François laughed. "What country bumpkin from Norsca? You're a true Bretonnian, my son-in-law. Stop calling yourself that."

"Yes, Ryan, you're going to be king one day. Stop saying you're a Norscan. Look at your appearance, where is there any trace of a Norscan? You were just raised by them," Berhemond added. "You married Sulia, so you're one of us."

Ryan nodded silently, feeling the need to write something.

The Champion of the Lady of the Lake's fingers flickered with psychic lightning as he thought for a moment and carved the following words on the Merovingian Castle:

"Summer breeze caresses the iris feathers, Mousilon's name remains alone.

Three hundred years of gathering shadows, heroes' blood spilled here. With the receding tides, the dew wilts, the past is but a dream, illuminating the darkness of the mortal world and departing."

Everyone was initially excited, but fell silent upon seeing Ryan's inscription.

They remembered the countless soldiers who had died under the walls of Mousilon over the past three hundred years, the knights and soldiers who had fallen since February this year, Duke Alderreld of Lyonesse, Duke Furcard of Montfort, and the grievously injured Lawn. They thought of Landuin, the Lake Knight who sacrificed himself to save Mousilon.

To reclaim Mousilon, Bretonnian knights had shed their blood.

Ryan's subordinates and allies felt comforted that he remembered these sacrifices. Many knights with relatives and friends who had died in these wars couldn't help but shed tears.

But ultimately, the glory belonged to Ryan. He initiated the war to reclaim Mousilon and, after half a year of hard fighting, finally succeeded. He was the new Duke of Mousilon, turning a new page in

 the history of the Knight Kingdom.

Gazing at the devastated city and gently stroking the gates of the Merovingian Castle, Ryan recalled an old saying.

A general's success is built on the bones of ten thousand soldiers.

…Interlude for On-the-spot Inscriptions…

Five days later.

The Blood Dragon vampires had fully withdrawn from Mousilon, and the remaining undead were thoroughly exterminated. With no resistance left, the army searched every street, confiscating all property. The Grail Knights immediately began rebuilding the Grail Chapel. Dark corners of the city were ruthlessly burned down and rebuilt. After careful identification, half of Mousilon's buildings were purified by fire, and the remaining half would be renovated.

In Ryan's temporary residence on Landuin Street, all the major nobles and important figures were present, including Duke François of Winford, Duke Berhemond of Bastogne, Count Karad of Garamont, Baron Federmond of Bordeleaux, Paladin Gerold, King Belgar of the Angrand Clan, Woodland Lord Aralos of Tarsien, Ryan's two female courtiers Veronica and Teresa, Templar Knight Alfred, and Ryan's knights. Lord Bertrand, the "Green Arrow" of Winford, sat humbly in the background.

"There are still over twenty thousand residents in the city," Baron Devon Hex reported. "We've conscripted them all as laborers to burn all corpses and rebuild Mousilon. This process will take three to five months. During this period, we will provide meals. Including these twenty thousand, there are about a hundred and twenty thousand people in Mousilon, all under our control."

"We've seized wealth worth about thirty-six thousand gold crowns from the Merovingian Castle. King Belgar will purify this treasure for us," Hex continued. "In addition to the castle's treasure, we've collected about twenty thousand gold crowns from the city. These will also be purified by King Belgar."

"Leave it to the dwarves!" Belgar raised the Hammer of Angrand, indicating he understood.

Then, as if on cue, everyone fell silent, especially the knights and nobles under Ryan's command. Their eyes, filled with anticipation and excitement, fixed on the new Duke of Mousilon, Ryan-Malcador, who sat smiling quietly.

Even the standard bearer, Grail Knight Armand, was no exception.

The battle was over, and the cleanup and post-war arrangements were nearly complete.

It was time for… that moment, wasn't it?

All eyes were on Ryan, whose remarkable achievements had earned him the title of Duke of Mousilon and paved the way for his future as King of Knights. Now that Mousilon had fallen, it was time for the rewards.

Ryan stood up with a smile. "Ahem, well then, I have some announcements to make."

"Oh oh oh!" The entire hall buzzed with excitement. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for!

"Now, let me announce the new appointments and distribution of the spoils!"

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