The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

The nights in the imperial capital of Brunswick were serious, bathed in dim yellow light. The entire city was under a state of curfew, with patrols, witch hunters, penitents, battle priests, and paladins constantly passing through the streets, loudly reciting various announcements and precautions.

Brunswick's nights were also quiet, so quiet that apart from the sound of the Reik River, almost no other sounds could be heard. The extreme prosperity and hustle and bustle of the daytime seemed to belong to another world.

This curfew was due to the strict orders of Emperor Karl-Franz. Under the cover of night, no one knew what might be lurking. This greatest city in human history had long become overcrowded beyond its capacity. Under its legendary walls, humans had settled two thousand years ago, forming tribes to protect themselves from numerous external enemies.

In fact, Brunswick always kept its doors open to all imperial citizens. After passing the gate guards' verification, anyone could enter the heart of the empire, be they Bretonnians, Tileans, Estalians, or even border prince natives. The city welcomed everyone with an openness reminiscent of when Emperor Charlemagne rose in the Old World two thousand years ago.

Therefore, when Vlad von Carstein, the disputed Elector Count of Sylvania and the first vampire count, attacked Brunswick, the refugee line stretched for hundreds of kilometers as everyone rushed to take refuge in the city.

However, if one thought that Brunswick was a paradise for opportunists, dreamers, and refugees, they would be gravely mistaken.

Indeed, Brunswick opened its doors to all humans, but the best jobs and salaries were controlled by various guilds and schools within the city. If you weren't a noble, it was difficult to get in. The citizens' registry, filled with those who had spent half their lives striving for the city, would tell you how tough life was. Most people could only find subsistence jobs, living in crowded apartments with eight people per room or even in basement dormitories, working a 996 schedule.

(Sundays were off but required half a day for worship. Generally, those without faith were easily suspected of being Chaos followers, so everyone at least pretended to worship an officially recognized deity, whether they were true believers or not.)

Most bottom-tier workers had to toil for over ten years, with only a lucky few becoming skilled workers, craftsmen, or foremen, striving for marriage and new life goals.

Consequently, various gangs emerged. Imperial law allowed freedom of association, leading to the birth of many gangs. These gangs provided goals and a sense of belonging for refugees and young people seeking opportunities, replacing the old family system. However, they also made it exponentially harder for witch hunters, paladins, and battle priests to root out Chaos cults, as Brunswick's gangs were too numerous and complex to distinguish easily. Moreover, the nature of Chaos cults, constantly at odds even among those worshiping the same god, made identifying them exceedingly difficult.

Fortunately, due to the archbishop kidnapping incident two years ago, Archbishop Vikmar the Steadfast angrily cleansed the entire slum, uncovering many Chaos cult traces and purging them. For now, cult activities were at least dormant or driven underground.

In these two years, the empire enjoyed a precious period of peace.

In the private banquet hall of the imperial palace, Emperor Karl-Franz was hosting a feast for the empire's core and most powerful individuals, discussing the series of political changes in the Kingdom of Knights.

In the brightly lit banquet hall, a long table was filled with various dishes, carefully prepared by the royal chefs, featuring the rich flavors of the Reikland.

What characterized Reikland cuisine?

Reikland cuisine had a heavy flavor, favoring pork, beef, liver, spices, fish, poultry, and vegetables. It used lots of mustard, white wine, and butter, often employing boiling, stewing, or braising methods. Notably famous were dishes like "sour beef," "Reikland sauerkraut," "Tartar steak," and "pig's foot hotpot."

But the most famous were Reikland's various hams, red sausages, and sausages. Today's table featured the renowned "Black Forest ham" and "Brunswick sausage," with several kinds of sausages paired with the royal malt beer "Cobben's Premium" and soft wheat bread, making for a top-tier royal banquet.

Seated at the head, Emperor Karl-Franz drank deeply from his beer mug filled with dark beer. At just over forty, the emperor was at the peak of a legendary class warrior, always wearing a genial smile that made him approachable.

Whether facing Elector Counts, his bureaucratic subordinates, imperial soldiers, or the lowest slum dwellers in Brunswick, the emperor always wore a friendly, dignified smile: "So, Ryan Malcador succeeded. He reclaimed Mousilon and is about to become the king across the mountains."

"Indeed," replied Boris Todbringer, Elector of the White Wolf, engrossed in eating and drinking. This Elector inherited all the qualities of the Middenlanders, both good and bad.

What characterized a Middenlander?

They complained the most, were incessant naggers, the first to the table, and ate the most.

Middenlanders were stubborn and resistant to change. They refused to use imports or foreign words, valuing tradition heavily under Ulric's influence. This made them get along well with dwarves.

"Indeed? Boris! My dear Elector, don't you feel any shame?" Reiksmarshal Kurt Helborg expressed his displeasure, opening his mouth without restraint: "We missed out on a Holy Grail Grand Knight. Do you know how many troubles we could have solved if we had Ryan's strong combat power?"

"Oh, really?" Elector Boris finally lifted his head from his plate, his single eye reflecting Helborg's face: "Do you think he would have grown into a Holy Grail Grand Knight if he stayed in Nord or came to the White Wolf City? Helborg, you should use your intellect more on the battlefield! Or do you think the emperor's position for you is beneath you? You should be a Grand Lord in the Reikland Council?"

"Tal's teeth!" Helborg was clearly angered by Boris's words, cursing: "I wasn't addressing the same issue!"

Helborg wanted to say more, but the emperor raised a hand to interrupt. Karl-Franz smiled at Boris: "Tradition is a powerful force."

"Mm-hmm~" Boris picked up a fork and stabbed a juicy piece of pig knuckle, stuffing it into his mouth: "Yes, tradition is a powerful force. Helborg here never served in the White Wolf Knights."

"So there's no point in discussing it further." The emperor tightened his grip on his knife and fork: "The question now is, what should we do? What should our response be?"

"The young pup became a duke after ten years across the mountains without experiencing the harshness of society." Archbishop Vikmar the Steadfast nodded: "This means that besides his martial prowess, he's highly capable. Given the political situation across the mountains, Karl, you and your court have discussed it many times. Achieving such a breakthrough in these conditions means his abilities are beyond doubt. Now the question is, what will you do?"

"Our emperor needs an answer, not a question, Archbishop. How can you respond to a question with another question?" Boris Todbringer impatiently interjected: "If you invited me to dinner just to babble nonsense, I'm quite happy. I enjoy a free meal!"

"Hahaha~" Emperor Karl-Franz laughed helplessly.

Boris Todbringer nearly became the "Wolf Emperor." Karl-Franz's victory was narrowly won, and the disgruntled Boris often publicly expressed his dissatisfaction with the emperor. Due to the north-south religious divide, Boris's attitude intensified the conflict, sometimes seeing Karl-Franz as a puppet of the southern church.

But the emperor needed Boris and the White Wolf Knights and the White Wolf Church behind him. So he included Boris in major decisions, making him feel he wasn't excluded from the decision-making circle.

At this point, the Griffin Duke spoke. Ivan Ferdinand, now a hundred-year-old veteran, looked no older than thirty: "Ryan's character is complex. As his godfather for a few years, I felt he was flexible within the rules and kind within the system."

"Flexible within the rules and kind within the system?" Emperor Karl-Franz pondered, then suddenly asked Boris: "Is his adoptive father Norman still in White Wolf City?"

"Yes, Norman is now an instructor in Middenheim. But you know, Franz, Ryan didn't inherit the title of Lord Auten. So his adoptive father... it is what it is," Boris Todbringer replied. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," the emperor shook his head. As Boris said, noble lineage depended on inheritance and genealogy, not upbringing.

"Ryan has a flexible side to his character. He's highly ambitious but also upholds his principles. His actions are undoubtedly bound by chivalry, but when necessary, he always finds reasons to bypass its constraints." Ivan stroked his beard: "When facing enemies, Ryan shows kindness. If the opponent is not a clear threat, he tends to spare them. But if the enemy is associated with evil, he believes in eradicating them completely."

"Ryan always advocates that internal conflicts among humans should be resolved internally. Disputes aside, when facing external invaders, humans must set aside their differences and unite," said Great Alchemist Balthasar Gelt. During the dinner, Gelt had removed his golden mask, revealing a stiff, cold face: "I have a detail to share with everyone."

"Go ahead, Gelt. You know I trust you the most," the emperor nodded.

"Ryan's Oliver Trading Company and Hadrian Trading Company

 have already opened branches in Brunswick, Middenheim, Nuln, and Talabecland. This doesn't signal a desire for war," Gelt said in his metallic voice. "Given the Lady of the Lake's favor towards him, he likely understands the importance of the bigger picture."

"He and his companies often supplement Middenland's food shortages," Boris said gruffly. "I hope we can discuss getting more hybrid elven warhorses from him. The White Wolf Knights who rode them loved them, but there aren't enough."

"This isn't the time to discuss this... In a few years, he'll be king," the emperor agreed with Gelt's analysis, his voice tinged with relief. "It's useful to strengthen ties with him now and continue to do so in the future. Hybrid elven warhorses won't be too hard to obtain."

From Karl-Franz's perspective, he wasn't too keen on the Kingdom of Knights having a king like Ryan.

Regarding the knight's throne, the emperor and his court had analyzed it extensively.

Generally, a knight king's actual power and control over the kingdom depended on his personal prowess and prestige, his ability to win support, and the trust of the dukes.

The stability and longevity of the throne depended on whether the king was trusted and favored by the Lady of the Lake and his relationship with the Damsel of the Lady.

"He has shown goodwill towards the empire more than once, my emperor," Gelt continued calmly. "He once visited the empire with Teclis, and he has a close relationship with Countess Emanuelle."

"Emanuelle..." the emperor nodded, smiling. "That's a constraint. But people change. Back then, he was just a count. Now he's a duke and soon to be a king. If he appears too close to us, it might hinder his claim to the throne."

"Only Charlemagne knows if he'll attack Marienburg for chivalry and glory, like Richard did," Helborg muttered.

"People change, interests do not," Gelt said bluntly. "I think we can send someone to approach him. I'm confident we'll get a satisfactory response."

"What excuse should we use?" The emperor was interested. "Congratulate him on becoming the Duke of Mousilon?"

"No, approaching him directly seems too sycophantic and lowers the empire's dignity. Moreover, Ryan can't openly reach an agreement with us now, as it would harm his reputation and honor," Gelt explained.

"So what should we do? Stop beating around the bush, metal face! Just say it!" Reiksmarshal Helborg was impatient, his moustache dripping with soup: "Why can't you just say it directly?"

"We go through his wife," Gelt suggested. "Don't forget, his wife is Sulia..."

That was enough.

"Excellent!" The emperor's eyes lit up, nodding repeatedly. "Yes, let's do that!"

"Prepare a generous gift for Lady Sulia and send our envoy to Ryan's territory to congratulate him on the birth of his first son!"

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