Imperial Year 2520, mid-October, the knightly kingdom of Mousilon in the Old World, Fontainebleau Palace.
Despite the Sun King's triumphant return and the creation of yet another unparalleled military miracle, the atmosphere in the ducal castle was far from joyous. Instead, guards and soldiers were stationed everywhere.
Just as Ryan had returned to Bretonnia and was holding a victory parade in the capital, Couronne, where the knights proudly displayed their spoils of war and the Old Guard surrounded the Knight King as he appeared on the Triumphal Avenue, a meticulously planned assassination attempt took place.
The infamous Tzeentch cult had been preparing for this for nearly a year.
First, dozens of handcarts appeared from the alleys on both sides of the street. These carts were filled with oil and large iron barrels containing lit bonfires, all rushing toward the procession.
Then, from the second floors of the buildings lining the street, over a dozen gunmen opened fire simultaneously.
Following this, dozens of axemen dropped from the buildings, attacking the Sun King, who was riding on his horse and waving to the crowd.
Of course, these actions were largely ineffective. Ryan, as a Primarch and a peak Saint-level powerhouse, was not someone who could be taken down by such a level of assassination attempt. The few grenades thrown at him afterward were even more laughable.
Ryan simply extended a hand, and all the bullets, crossbow bolts, arrows, and grenades flying toward him froze in mid-air. With a clenched fist, they all exploded instantly.
But it didn't end there. As Ryan moved, a swift Chaos assassin wielding a blue, venom-coated dagger made of Warpstone suddenly appeared from the void behind him, aiming for Ryan's back.
Ryan teleported away, and in the next moment, the Lady of the Lake, Morgiana, blasted the assassin with magic, reducing him to white smoke and leaving his corpse on the ground.
The assassination attempt ended as abruptly as it began. Ryan ordered a city-wide search, capturing a small group of Chaos cultists. Upon investigation, they were confirmed to be members of the infamous Tzeentch cults, the "Red Crown" and the "Rainbow Flame." However, before further interrogation could take place, all the cultists spontaneously burst into multicolored flames and burned to death.
The matter ended inconclusively.
Although only a few members of the Old Guard and a dozen soldiers were injured, the incident significantly dampened the celebratory atmosphere of the grand expedition's victory. Ryan didn't say much about it. After a brief victory banquet, he immediately ordered the army to disband. He decided not to spend the winter in the capital but to return to Fontainebleau Palace in Mousilon.
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*Fontainebleau Palace, Elliptical Courtyard*
Queen Sulia, dressed in an elegant royal gown, hurried into the palace with the assistance of two maids. Following her was Sylvie, the court lady who also served as the head maid.
"How is His Majesty?" Sulia asked anxiously, her long, straight legs clad in black stockings moving swiftly.
"His Majesty is in a bad mood. He summoned Lady Aurora and Lady Theresa from Military Intelligence Seven but hasn't spoken to them. He's just left them waiting outside the hall, along with the Baron," Sylvie replied anxiously. "It seems His Majesty knows about the Baron's matter."
"Ah... Devonshire, he really..." Sulia sighed, lifting her skirt as she walked inside.
As the Queen appeared in the outer hall, the two heads of Military Intelligence Seven, Aurora and Theresa, stood up immediately. "My Lady."
"Mother," Devonshire, Ryan's eldest son, stood up with his head lowered, looking dejected. "Father called us here to wait, but it's been two hours. What's going on?"
"It's alright, Devonshire," Sulia smiled, patting her son's cheek. Then she turned to the visibly nervous Theresa and Aurora. "Don't worry. He's just upset. I'll talk to him. Please wait here for a moment."
"Mm," Aurora responded with a hint of displeasure, bowing to Sulia before sitting down.
"Thank you, My Lady," Theresa said, clearly uneasy. With such a significant assassination attempt, Military Intelligence Seven undoubtedly bore some responsibility.
Sulia nodded to everyone, then ignored the Old Guard standing at attention and pushed open the door to the inner chamber, stepping inside.
Sylvie tried to follow, but the Old Guard immediately lowered their halberds, signaling the head maid to stop.
As the Queen entered the room, she was greeted by the opulent decor of the bedroom. The walls and ceiling were adorned with gold, red, and blue leaf patterns, the floor covered with a painted carpet, and the chandelier sparkled brilliantly. The room's decoration was a culmination of centuries of refinement, both grand and elegant. The ceiling and wainscoting were made of walnut wood, with the walls divided by doors and pilasters, each section featuring a large painting surrounded by reliefs of skulls, swords, and books, some painted in color or gold.
It was late autumn, and the fireplace in the bedroom was roaring. Knight King Ryan lay on a seat in front of the fireplace, seemingly asleep. On the small table beside him were stacks of parchment.
Seeing her husband like this, Sulia couldn't help but smile. She walked over and sat beside Ryan. "Alright, get up, Ryan. I can tell when you're pretending to sleep."
"ZZZ..." Ryan remained motionless.
"Get up. They're waiting outside," Sulia adjusted her skirt, then quietly swapped her pointed blue high heels for a pair of soft slippers under the table. After slipping her delicate, black-stockinged feet into the slippers, she reached out and pinched Ryan's face. "Stop pretending."
"..." Ryan opened his eyes, wrapped his arms around Sulia's curvaceous figure, and pulled her into his lap. Amid her surprised gasp, he kissed her deeply, not releasing her until she was breathless. "You really can't hide anything from you, my dear."
"We've been married for so many years. Is there anything about you I don't know?" Sulia pouted, pinching Ryan's cheek before resting her head on his chest. "Are you angry?"
"Of course I am," Ryan grumbled, holding Sulia on his lap. "Such a big incident, and there wasn't even a hint of warning!"
"Military Intelligence Seven did receive intelligence about a possible assassination two days prior," Sulia gently stroked her husband's furrowed brow, calming him. "You were the one who insisted on not fearing the assassination and wanted to lure the snake out of its hole."
"The fact that the Tzeentch cult has infiltrated the capital is a serious issue. Morgiana sent a message that she's found three Chaos cult hideouts in Couronne over the past few days. Doesn't that say enough?" Ryan's tone was harsh. "What is Military Intelligence Seven even doing? All that funding every year, and it's going to waste?"
"It's because you've been too lenient with them. You let them skip the expedition, and you approved their budget requests without question," Sulia chided. "You're not even this indulgent with your own wife."
"Heh," Ryan couldn't help but kiss Sulia's cheek again. "Liking someone is about indulgence, but loving someone is about restraint. With them, it's enough to keep them satisfied. But with you, Sulia, you're my rose, my flower, the one and only in the world that needs careful nurturing and care."
"You really know how to sweet-talk," Sulia blushed, her anger dissipating. "Devonshire is just anxious. He's been insisting on rescuing the young queen."
"It's fine for him to be restless. It's normal for young people to be impulsive at his age," Ryan shook his head. "But no matter what, it's absolutely unacceptable for him to yell at his uncle."
"Yes, that was wrong of him," Sulia, though protective of her son, knew right from wrong. "Uncle Angron has treated Devonshire like his own son. For him to yell at his uncle over the young queen is too much, really too much."
"Exactly. That's why I'm letting them stew for a bit, to humble them," Ryan smiled, wrapping his arms around Sulia's waist. No matter how tough things were outside, home was his sanctuary. "You're such a soft-hearted mother, leaving the disciplining to me."
"He's your son too!" Sulia retorted.
"And he's your son!" Ryan shot back.
The couple laughed together.
"Let them wait a little longer," Ryan picked up a scroll and casually asked Sulia, "How's the grain reserve this year?"
"Another bumper harvest. The Church's major warehouses have added over 33 million kilograms of grain, and the ducal warehouses have also stockpiled a significant amount," Sulia reported. "Our key warehouses in Mousilon and Gisoreux have just received over 40 million kilograms of grain, while releasing over 10 million kilograms of older stock, including some that had started to develop pests. These older grains were bought in bulk by merchants from Marienburg at low prices and then resold at higher rates to the Empire and the Border Princes."
"Hmm," Ryan nodded. The merchants of Marienburg were beginning to sense something.
Unlike last year, this year, the entire Old World was experiencing a significant reduction in grain production, with yields dropping by 10%-15% across the board. Only Bretonnia continued to enjoy a bountiful harvest.
In the past few months, grain prices had skyrocketed by 30-40%. According to reports from Schultz, the major grain merchants in Marienburg had united to form a "trade association," hoarding grain and driving up prices. Sulia had released 3 million kilograms of older grain to the Empire to prevent prices from rising too quickly.
Truthfully, these reserves would only last the Empire's northern famine-stricken regions for about a month.
The market was now empty of grain. Aside from Nuln, which could purchase grain from Bretonnia through special channels, the rest had been bought up by the major merchants of Marienburg. These wealthy traders even boasted, "The Emperor's army may enter Marienburg, but his decrees will not."
"Merchants are driven by profit," Ryan sighed, shaking his head. "Is there nothing Schultz can do?"
"Schultz can only regulate illegal or irregular activities. This is legitimate business, and even as a Grand Duke, he can't interfere arbitrarily," Sulia remained calm. With grain in hand, she had no reason to panic.
"There will be a time to deal with them, but now is not the right moment," Ryan agreed. The flickering firelight from the fireplace cast shadows on his face. "The autumn harvest is ongoing. Although the Old World's grain production has decreased, at least the harvest is coming in. It's not the right time to act now."
"Agreed," Sulia nodded, leaning against her husband's chest. "This trip to Albion was perilous. Both Baudry and Fredemund deserve to die!"
"If they die, who will take over as Naval Marshal? Who will command the Sea God Fleet? Should I appoint myself as Grand Admiral?" Ryan laughed.
Sulia rolled her eyes, unable to answer that.
"Baudry and Fredemund are capable, but they're still adjusting to the new military system after the reforms. They're used to the old ways of leading feudal armies," Ryan gently stroked his wife's back. "I've reprimanded them, and they've realized their mistakes. We can't expect perfection overnight."
"True, there's no one else. Since the passing of Marshal Hood and Marshal Henry, Bretonnia has lacked capable naval commanders. Currently, only Baudry and his son Fredemund are fit for the role," Sulia admitted. "The navy is different from the army."
"Indeed, the navy is different," Ryan also smiled wryly. Army officers could grow into competent commanders within a few years of following him into battle. Bretonnia now had a galaxy of talented generals, but the navy wasn't something that could be developed in just a few years.
"What about the High Elf envoy..." Sulia tentatively probed her husband's thoughts.
In Ryan's absence, Sulia naturally took charge of all affairs. During that time, she was the highest authority in the knightly kingdom. But now that Ryan had returned, the Queen had to consult with him. She shared Talleyrand's proposal with Ryan, along with her own opinion. "I think we shouldn't get involved. The High Elves won't thank us. Even after a great victory, our casualties numbered nearly 15,000. The kingdom needs to recover."
"You're right. The kingdom needs to recover. We'll observe the situation for now. I'll handle our son," Ryan nodded.
Sulia was about to ask more when Ryan glanced at the dwarf grandfather clock.
"Call them in."
"Yes!"
"At once... His Majesty has summoned you," the Old Guard's deputy commanders, Raymond and Beria, responded from outside the door.
Aurora and Theresa from Military Intelligence Seven entered first, followed by the eager Devonshire. Seeing his father and mother sitting hand in hand, Devonshire's eyes lit up, but upon noticing the warning in Sulia's gaze, he quickly lowered his head.
Aurora, Theresa, and Devonshire knelt and bowed.
"Rise, take your seats," Ryan gestured for the two Saint-level sorceresses to sit, which they did without surprise.
Devonshire also stood up.
"Who said you could stand?!" Ryan's voice thundered like a storm. "Kneel!"
Devonshire, frightened, teared up instantly. He instinctively looked to his mother, but Sulia had her eyes closed, ignoring him.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Devonshire quickly knelt again, pressing his forehead to the ground.
Aurora and Theresa also trembled. Ryan was no longer the same as before. His every move was unpredictable, sometimes like a thunderstorm, other times like a gentle breeze.
However, the mother-daughter pair had their own confidence. Ryan ignored Devonshire and smiled at them. "This doesn't concern you. How's the task I assigned you earlier?"
The mature and beautiful Saint-level sorceress adjusted her long skirt and pulled out a lengthy scroll of parchment. "This is the result of our investigation, Your Majesty."
Ryan took the scroll and motioned for Sulia to read it with him.
Ten minutes later, the Knight King sighed deeply. "Well done, dear Theresa, Aurora. You've performed admirably. I should reward you properly."
Before Theresa and Aurora could express their gratitude, Ryan burst into laughter upon reading the scroll. "Well, well, well. This is quite the list."
The parchment detailed the results of Military Intelligence Seven's years of investigation.
After years of work, the Chaos cults in the Empire with over 30,000 members (including peripheral members) had been largely cataloged, including their main areas of activity and possible headquarters.
The list was extensive:
- The Crimson Skull Cult
- The Brass Sisterhood
- The Axe Brotherhood
- The Battle-Scarred Veterans Brotherhood
- The Scarlet Oath
- The Nuln Elders' Association
- The Purple Hand
- The Red Crown
- The Broken Wheel Sect
- The Rainbow Flame
- The Secret Cult
- The Children of Misfortune
- The Followers of the Rotten Gut
- The Nurgle Carnival
- The Tobias Butchers' Guild
- The Prestit Medical Exchange
- The Revelers' Association
- The Gucci Art and Apparel Association
- The Emerald Scepter
- The West Elite Members' Association
And notably marked by Aurora, the "Yellow Teeth Cult," a large Chaos cult dedicated to the Horned Rat. This cult had grown so bold that several of its members publicly murdered a few witch hunters and battle priests in the streets of Carroburg before committing suicide. The local nobility investigated for weeks but found no leads, ultimately dismissing it as a vendetta.
"There's one more important matter, Your Majesty," Theresa continued. "In Nuln, Baron Frederick recently discovered a Khorne altar in the underground tunnels beneath the Iron Army's barracks. It has shocked the entire city."
"What?!"
"Additionally, the wife of the White Wolf Elector Count, Boris Todbringer, was recently discovered to be a Slaanesh worshipper and a core member of the Slaanesh cult in Middenheim, the Emerald Scepter," Aurora added. "Anne Tailyis is the daughter of Nordland's Grand Duke, Theodoric Gausser. Upon learning and confirming the truth, Elector Count Boris was devastated. He ordered his second wife to be poisoned and announced her death as due to illness. He is now deeply depressed, leaving all military and political affairs to his court officials and refusing to leave his residence."
Ryan was speechless.
"Wonderful. A hundred flowers bloom, a hundred schools of thought contend. Some are already getting restless, eager to welcome their masters south."
"Let's focus on ourselves first!"
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