Imperial Year 2520, December.
In front of the Fontainebleau Palace.
The majestic Old Guard stood in several square formations, awaiting inspection.
During the Albion expedition, the Old Guard had lost about five hundred men, with over two hundred killed in action and another two hundred forced to retire due to severe injuries or old age.
However, fresh blood was quickly drawn from the elite freemen of various duchies, and the Old Guard soon replenished its ranks. Large numbers of new serfs were promoted to freemen soldiers, and the losses from the Albion campaign were sufficiently compensated. Meanwhile, many new squires and knight aspirants from the duchie s were promoted to Knights Errant.
The breathtakingly beautiful Lady of the Lake appeared before everyone. Today, the goddess wore a winter lotus dew round-neck lace button fishtail gown, draped with a white fox fur long coat, and adorned with a High Elf green platinum diamond eternal radiance crown. She smiled as she inspected the Old Guard, accompanied by King Ryan and Queen Sulia.
These former serfs and freemen from the countryside were now dressed in Old Guard uniforms produced by the Mousillon textile workshops. Bearskin hats, blue coats, golden epaulettes, white shirts, trousers, and polished boots adorned their bodies, with medals and decorations hanging proudly on their chests.
New clothes, new hats, and the status and treatment of being the Sun King's personal guard, along with the medals reflecting the sunlight, filled the newly promoted Old Guard soldiers with joy. Most of them had been freemen just a short while ago, and some had even been mere "mud-legged" farmers and herders a few years back. Today, dressed in the coveted Old Guard uniforms and being inspected by the goddess and the Sun King, they stood tall with pride, their faces glowing with excitement, ready to charge into battle at Ryan's command.
Aside from Marshal Louen and Border Marshal Roland, all the other marshals were present, standing behind the royal family. The Lady's Enchantress, Morgiana, represented the Lady of the Lake in comforting the disabled veterans and the families of the fallen, personally handing out pensions to each of them.
For some reason, Morgiana was in an exceptionally good mood today. The Enchantress was also dressed in her finest, wearing a pop art triangular collar fashionable witch gown, paired with cream-colored leather high-heeled boots and a full set of divine jewelry gifted by Sulia. She wore a constant smile on her face.
During the inspection, a minor incident occurred. A newly promoted Grail Maiden accidentally dropped the cup of purified holy water blessed by the Enchantress. Such an offense would normally have resulted in the poor girl being dragged away and executed on the spot. However, Morgiana merely frowned, ordering a month's salary deduction and three days of confinement as punishment.
Everyone was amazed. Morgiana's temperament was notoriously unpredictable, but people were starting to notice a pattern: whenever she was around King Ryan, the Enchantress seemed much more amiable and approachable.
"Lothir!" The Lady of the Lake stood on the horseshoe-shaped staircase in front of the Fontainebleau Palace, her voice gentle.
"Yes, my lady!" A veteran who had served Ryan for twenty-eight years, the Old Guard's sergeant major, stepped forward from the ranks.
"Twenty-eight years of unwavering loyalty and faith have moved me deeply. Since the Battle of Colson in Marienburg, you have followed Ryan through countless bloody battles. Now, I bestow upon you the highest honor," the Lady of the Lake smiled, signaling Lothir to approach.
A golden Grail spun in the air, and the light of the Lady pierced through the crowd. The sweet nectar of the Grail exuded a captivating fragrance in the midst of winter. Under the envious gazes of everyone, the Old Guard sergeant major knelt down, tears streaming down his face. "My lady... I am eternally grateful!"
The veteran did not die. After drinking the Grail's water, Lothir transformed from a middle-aged man in his forties to a robust man in his thirties. His eyes glowed red, his body enveloped in holy light, and he strode down the steps with an imposing presence.
The third Grail Guard, Sergeant Major Lothir of the Duchy of Quenelles!
"Valen!"
A very strong Old Guard greatswordsman stepped forward, his face and body covered in scars, his eyes sharp as lightning.
Ryan recognized him. This warrior hailed from Red Fish Village, famous for being nearly ten pounds at birth. Many believed he had mutation issues, and he was bullied and discriminated against as a child, even lacking a name until Angron recognized his potential, naming him "Valen" and training him in blacksmithing, herding, and logging.
Valen quickly grew into a peerless warrior, rising through the ranks with sheer strength, military achievements, and incredible feats—from serf infantry to freeman sergeant, then to the Old Guard, and now sergeant major. He was only 35 years old!
During the Albion campaign, Valen single-handedly cut down twelve of Harold's "Royal Guards," killed a Chaos Champion, and severely wounded a Khornate Bloodletter!
"Obedience, unity, bravery, and resilience," the Lady of the Lake signaled Valen to approach. The goddess retrieved a second Grail from the void. "I bestow upon you the honor of the Grail. May you continue to strive and live up to your name as a hero."
"Yes!" Valen took a deep breath and drank from the Grail.
The fourth Grail Guard.
"Udino!" The deputy commander of the Mousillon Cold Dawn Guard was stunned.
The entire hall fell silent.
The fifth Grail Guard! And he wasn't even part of the Old Guard!
Udino was widely recognized as a hero throughout the knightly kingdom. He was brave and fearless, always leading the charge as a grenadier, suffering multiple injuries. Since joining Ryan's service, he had distinguished himself in battles like the Siege of Chantillon, the invasion of Morkar, and the Albion campaign.
Standing behind the Lady of the Lake, holding his wife Sulia's hand, Ryan smiled as he watched the scene. He noticed the visible sense of crisis on the faces of the knightly nobles, led by Bohemond and his father-in-law. The Old Guard, formed just over a decade ago, already had five Grail Guards from humble origins!
Currently, the entire knightly kingdom had only a little over three hundred Grail Knights!
Of course, the knightly nobles wouldn't question the Lady of the Lake. The goddess's criteria for bestowing the Grail were never influenced by others. If she deemed it worthy, then it was.
In truth, despite the system Ryan established—from serf infantry to freeman sergeant, to Old Guard, to knightly titles, and finally to Grail Guard—it was still far from "fair." Although the upward mobility path was now open, it remained highly unequal. Knightly nobles could still earn their spurs from a Kingdom Knight and be promoted from squires or knight aspirants, while every Old Guard had to survive countless battles, making the competition for knightly titles and Grail Guard positions a grueling struggle.
Yet, the serfs and freemen of the knightly kingdom were already immensely grateful to Ryan. Everyone knew that in the old knightly kingdom, a "mud-legged" serf would remain a serf for life, with no chance of becoming a knight.
Now, tens of thousands had risen from serfdom to freemen through war, hundreds had earned knightly titles, and some had even been granted the highest honor of the Grail. Everyone was overjoyed. In fact, many serfs and freemen were fiercely loyal to Ryan because they feared that if the king were replaced, these reforms and upward mobility channels might be revoked, plunging the kingdom back into its stagnant past.
It could only be said that the old knightly kingdom had been too "right-leaning," and Ryan's slightly "left-leaning" policies had already brought the serfs to tears of gratitude.
After the award ceremony outside concluded, everyone returned to the conference hall of the Fontainebleau Palace.
Ryan, the Lady of the Lake, and Sulia sat at the head of the table, symbolizing the current tripartite rule of the knightly kingdom. Below them were the Lady's Enchantress Morgiana, the eight marshals, and several regional governors, followed by Ryan's personal advisors like Talleyrand and Beria, and then Ryan's court ladies, led by Veronica, with Theresa, Aurora, and Sylvie seated at the end. Olica, the personal maid, stood behind Ryan.
During the meeting, King Ryan and the Lady of the Lake, Lileath, further advanced several policies to prepare for the impending invasion of the Everchosen.
The first to be utilized were the veterans who had been forcibly retired or discharged. Ryan's approach was twofold: expanding resources and conserving them.
Expanding Resources: Outside the existing system, the current dual structure of standing and conscripted forces was insufficient for high-intensity warfare. The serf economy had limited recovery potential, and in the short term, aside from expensive standing army training, there were few ways to significantly boost combat effectiveness. A compromise was to train key personnel to infiltrate and strengthen militia forces, increasing training intensity and expanding other sources of troops.
Conserving Resources: Veterans were a precious resource, and wasting them was a shame. They could also be directed into other fields to promote semi-militarized development.
Overall Goal: Using veterans and new forces as the core, ensure rapid mobilization of new forces during the End Times (ET), avoiding the traditional Bretonnian model of quickly depleting war potential with disposable serf infantry.
1. Veterans: Severely disabled veterans would receive state subsidies and be assigned as instructors and local patrol forces. They would conduct training according to regulations, synchronized with farming seasons, ensuring rapid organization of local defense forces during ET. Patrol teams would have fixed bases (small fortresses), serving as evacuation points and storage for weapons, allowing civilians to fortify and arm themselves during wartime.
2. Expanding Standing Forces: Require Bretonnian foreign trade guilds to organize guard units, mandating the hiring of Old World and Bretonnian veterans as instructors to ensure training quality. Aim to create a standing force and establish waystations along trade routes, with the state retaining the right to requisition and store supplies (facilitating wartime logistics and training financial personnel for wartime logistics planning). These waystations could also serve as small fortresses during wartime, housing elite troops and civilians.
3. Increased Demands on Merchants and Duchies: Require merchants and knightly nobles to contribute to local defense through blood taxes or exemption fees, funding a small standing self-defense force and part of the garrison. Contributions could be in the form of warhorses, weapons, money, or hiring mercenaries, aiming to fully mobilize merchant resources without overburdening the lords' finances.
4. Utilizing the Badlands: Establish new mountain forces alongside traditional mounted squires, forming independent ranger units as standing forces to maximize the use of squire-class individuals unable to afford warhorses. Assign fixed ranger quotas to duchies near passes, ensuring trade route security and periodic clearing of Chaos forces in the mountains. These forces would be self-equipped, with food and pay shared between the central government and the duchies. Those unwilling to contribute would provide a set population quota, with the central government handling defense obligations and expenses.
Those willing to contribute would first train in the Badlands for a year before returning to their posts for further training and garrison duty, with training costs covered by the central government. This aimed to mobilize non-knightly squire-class individuals across the kingdom, ensuring trained and battle-ready reserves for rapid mobilization during ET.
5. Merchant Caravans in the Badlands: Require merchant caravans to organize guard units, hiring healthy veterans and training freemen. Ensure coordination with the Badlands' Three Guards to provide self-defense and reserve troops for long-distance caravans. Retired caravan guards could be settled with land or integrated into local security forces, ensuring key areas had trained personnel to lead local militias during crises.
6. Improving Serf Troop Quality: Require the serfs' religious orders and churches to provide priests and some clerics as army chaplains, in exchange for recognition by the Lady of the Lake. However, these religious personnel would only be involved in the serfs' pre- and post-battle activities, with no daily interference in their lives.
The knightly nobles were somewhat reluctant, but the chaos in the Old World was evident to all. Everyone knew how precious the current peace in the knightly kingdom was, and with the Lady of the Lake backing Ryan, these proposals were passed one by one.
Only Sulia seemed unhappy. Ryan's initiatives meant her kingdom's finances would take another hit. Her husband was always so extravagant.
But the Queen trusted her husband. Aside from a gentle squeeze of Ryan's hand, she said nothing.
"The news from Karak Kadrin is highly significant. Dwarf scouts and rangers report a massive Chaos army gathering in the northern Chaos Wastes under the command of the new Everchosen, Archaon. The visible forces alone stretch over a hundred kilometers, with no end in sight," Ryan addressed the assembly. "It seems the dwarfs of Karak Kadrin are once again seriously considering our proposed 'Great Retreat' plan."
"Damn it, it's only been a few years, and Chaos is marching south again?" Bohemond fumed, his beard bristling.
"Let them come!" Calard said coldly and calmly. "We'll kill as many as they send."
"What does Louen say?" The clear-headed father-in-law, Francois, leaned back in his chair. "Any news?"
"Giant King Throgg's thirty-thousand-strong Chaos army has appeared at the High Pass of the Mourning Mountains," Ryan nodded. "This is the vanguard, the precursor to the invasion."
Everyone fell silent. Was it happening again? The last invasion by Morkar had been so brutal, and now, just six years later, Chaos was on the move again, and this time on a much larger scale!
Seemingly unwilling to dwell on the topic, Ryan turned to Talleyrand. "Talleyrand, what's the situation with the High Elves?"
Talleyrand stood with his cane, smiling. "Lord Tyrion exchanged thirty chests of jewels and various goods for a large amount of military rations and supplies from us. However, he declined our offer of the Chivalric Army, stating that... this army was unworthy of joining his rescue mission."
"Let him be," Ryan also sneered, shaking his head.
He understood Tyrion's meaning. Tyrion wanted Ryan to personally lead an army, bringing along Bohemond, Francois, Calard, and other Grail Knights, along with the Old Guard, to rescue the Everqueen.
But Ryan had made it clear that he was severely wounded in Albion, and the Old Guard had suffered heavy losses, making it impossible to join the rescue mission.
After being politely declined by the Sun King, Tyrion, feeling his pride wounded, said no more. The High Elf expeditionary force only stayed in Bordeleaux for half a day to replenish supplies before swiftly departing, refusing even to meet. The "Chivalric Army" organized by Francois's cousin, Sir Jerrod, was explicitly told it was unnecessary.
You're not worthy.
If they weren't worthy, so be it. Although it damaged relations with the High Elves, Ryan truly had no desire to wade into this mess.
"One more agenda item."
---
Meanwhile, in the Old World, south of the World's Edge Mountains, the undead mega-fortress, Nagashizzar.
Mannfred von Carstein appeared in the cold, desolate, and decaying prison cells.
The Everqueen, Alarielle, was bound by iron bars and chains reinforced with necromantic runes and special metals. Alarielle could feel no trace of magic or divine power here. The anti-magic bracelets on her wrists and the collar around her neck prevented her from using any spells, leaving her powerless as she watched the newcomer.
Surprisingly, Alarielle was relatively clean, and her clothes were tidy, thanks to the courtesy of the Liche King, Arkhan. Arkhan had been polite to the Everqueen, stating that this was an "invitation" for Alarielle to "contribute" to Nagash's resurrection. As long as Alarielle cooperated, Arkhan promised she would not suffer. The Liche King even collected Alarielle's belongings and had his Nehekharan court guards regularly launder and change her clothes, providing food fit for the living.
Seeing Mannfred appear, Alarielle closed her eyes, feeling as if a piece of rotting meat had entered her presence. The Everqueen was utterly repulsed and had no interest in conversing with Mannfred.
"Someone's coming to rescue you," Mannfred grinned maniacally, stepping up to the iron bars. "The Tyrion brothers and a group of High Elves are on their way. They're coming to save you, my little queen. Aren't you thrilled?"
"They will kill you and bathe your soul in the blazing sun," Alarielle said coldly.
"Many have said that, yet I still live," Mannfred pressed his forehead against the bars, sneering. "We'll see, my little queen."
"Spit!" Alarielle spat in Mannfred's face, then grabbed a stone from the cell and hurled it at his bald head. "Get lost, scum!"
"Scum? Scum! You dare call me that?" Mannfred instantly unlocked the cell. He grabbed Alarielle's ankle, clad in white lace stockings, and slapped her across the face. "Slap!"
The Everqueen spat out blood, her cheek swelling as she glared at Mannfred with eyes that could kill.
"That expression! I love that expression! Good, good, very good! Excellent!" Mannfred roared in anger, seemingly realizing he was being despised. The last Vampire Count paced around the cell like a madman before calming down. "Good, very good. I love that expression—firm, faithful, and filled with contempt for me. Excellent."
Mannfred clapped his hands, and two undead beasts emerged from behind him. One was a bloodthirsty bat-wolf, a mutated wolf, and the other was a sky terror, a mutated bat.
They opened the cell door, and more creatures poured in.
A dozen vampires, dozens of zombies dripping with pus and drooling, and scores of undead dire wolves, mutated bats, gargoyles, crypt horrors, and crypt ghouls.
"Keep it up, keep that expression. Oh, how sacred, how noble, how refined our little queen is," Mannfred laughed maniacally, his face twisting with utter loathing for Alarielle. "I wonder if you can maintain that holy expression after a hundred men and a hundred monsters have had their way with you?"
"You?!" Alarielle backed away in terror.
"Today, I, Mannfred, will do our little queen a favor and let her experience it firsthand. Everyone, feel free to indulge. If she breaks, it's on me," Mannfred waved his hand, and a hundred undead and a hundred undead beasts charged at Alarielle, their eyes glowing with hunger. "Just don't kill her."
Dozens of vampire hands, zombie hands, and various monster claws reached for Alarielle. The Everqueen was pinned against the wall, her hands restrained, as a dire wolf licked her face.
"Rip~" The sound of stockings tearing echoed through the cell.
"HAHAHAHA!" Mannfred laughed maniacally.
Nothing brought him greater satisfaction than utterly destroying and defiling something beautiful.
Alarielle's expression shifted from unease to fear, then panic, and finally despair.
"No!"
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!"
Her screams echoed throughout Nagashizzar.
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