After the dinner, Emilia, Theresa, and Aurora headed to the private bar in the Royal Guest House for a few drinks. With all the Imperial guests having departed and no new guests arriving, the entire city of Couronne was busy preparing supplies for the upcoming campaign. The famous private bar was a bit empty, which suited Emilia and the others just fine—they disliked noise.
"How was the dinner?" Emilia asked with a smile as she gracefully seated herself opposite Aurora and Theresa. "I hope the dishes prepared by my court chefs were to your liking."
"Thank you, I was very satisfied."
"You're spoiling us, Duchess."
Theresa and Aurora both expressed their gratitude, making Emilia smile. The three women each ordered a cocktail and settled into their conversation. The private bar was dimly lit, with only a bartender and a waiter present, creating an intimate atmosphere.
Their conversation was light. Aurora was curious about the politics of the Empire, Emilia's courtly entertainments, and the famous Death Sorceress Elspeth von Draken, known as the "Black Lady of Nuln." However, Emilia knew little about the Black Lady and couldn't share much about the inner workings of Nuln's court. As a result, the conversation shifted.
Theresa, unlike Aurora, was quite eager to join Ryan on the expedition. "Duchess, I heard you're planning to accompany Ryan on the campaign?"
"Just call me Emilia, as before," Emilia replied casually, though her tone was somewhat indifferent. "I'm only going with him to Bordeleaux to see him off before returning to Nuln by ship. But what about you, Theresa? Are you not joining Ryan?"
"No, the climate in the Badlands isn't suitable for ice magic," Theresa said, sounding a bit regretful. "Ryan thought it wouldn't be a good fit for me. After discussing it with my mother, I agreed it was best to focus on my strengths and avoid my weaknesses."
"I see," Emilia replied, maintaining her graceful demeanor. Her mature makeup and opulent attire made it hard to reconcile her with the pure young maid she once was. Outwardly, Emilia seemed understanding, but internally, she was somewhat disapproving.
Theresa's flaw was her reluctance to actively pursue opportunities and her tendency to be easily satisfied. She also didn't like facing difficulties. Emilia wasn't sure how much of this was influenced by Aurora, but she believed it was to some extent. In Emilia's view, the upcoming expedition to Eight Peaks Mountain was a historic campaign that could define the future of the knightly kingdom. Even if Theresa and Aurora weren't suited for the harsh conditions, they should have volunteered to participate. This would leave a positive impression on Ryan, even if he ultimately declined their offer.
From Emilia's perspective, the mother and daughter's decision not to participate in the campaign was a strategic mistake.
Of course, everyone has their flaws, and Emilia had no intention of pointing this out to Aurora and Theresa. There was no benefit in doing so. She subtly shifted the conversation away from the expedition. Emilia tucked her golden hair behind her ear and propped her chin on a hand adorned with gold and silver jewelry, exuding the aura of an Imperial Duchess. "Since you're not going with Ryan, what are your plans?"
"Well, after this..." Aurora and Theresa exchanged glances. The affairs of MI7 were confidential, so Theresa spoke up instead. "I plan to enter seclusion again, trying to find a way to reach the Sanctuary level. As for my mother, she intends to gradually move some witches to Bretonnia, and we'll establish branches in Mousillon and other locations."
The conversation had shifted to a topic Emilia was less familiar with. After a few minutes of polite listening, she seized an opportunity to change the subject. She clapped her hands, and a maid presented two gift boxes. "Theresa, Aurora, this is a small token of my appreciation. I hope you like it. Please, open them."
"These are..." Theresa and Aurora opened the boxes, and their eyes lit up.
"This is a set of luxury Wolford stockings that Sulia and I co-founded," Emilia said with a smile. "They're ultra-thin, elastic, and incredibly smooth to the touch, with a transparent toe design. These are the latest products, and there are five pairs in different colors in each box."
"Thank you!" Both Theresa and Aurora were excited. Wolford stockings, co-created by Sulia and Emilia, were true luxury items in human high society, often out of reach for ordinary nobles.
Theresa was less enthusiastic about stockings unless she was with Ryan, but Aurora, who was rarely seen without them, had long wanted to ask about them. Emilia's gift was perfectly timed.
"Aren't they delicate? They seem easy to snag," Theresa asked, a bit hesitant. "Thank you, but I'm almost afraid to wear them in case I ruin them."
"They're not meant for everyday wear," Emilia replied with a mischievous smile. "You know when to wear them, Theresa. It's a shame Ryan is about to go on an expedition."
"Um!" Theresa's face flushed red. "I... I know."
"That deadbeat..." Aurora, noticing her daughter's embarrassment, quickly changed the subject. "Still, thank you, Duchess Emilia."
After a few more words, Emilia bid farewell to the mother and daughter. She calculated the time, assuming Ryan should have finished his meetings by now, and decided to head to the palace to find him.
In the hallway, Emilia encountered Morgiana, the Lake Witch. As before, she had a maid bring an identical gift box and presented it to Morgiana, who accepted it gracefully. "You're here to see Ryan?"
"Does he have time?" Emilia's expression was less optimistic, suspecting that Morgiana's presence meant Ryan was still occupied.
"He's meeting with Blackheart Repp and his deputy Durant. King Belegar is also there, discussing the expedition," Morgiana replied. "The Empire and Bretonnia are allies now. You should join us."
"Alright," Emilia sighed. She was beginning to feel the complexity of her situation—wanting Ryan to be as great and powerful as possible, yet also wishing he had more time for her and their children.
Pushing open the meeting room door, Emilia found Ryan, Belegar, Sulia, Veronica, Blackheart Repp, and Juan gathered around a large map. Blackheart Repp was introducing the situation in the Border Princes. Ryan greeted Emilia briefly before returning to listen to Repp's report.
"The Border Princes survive under the constant threat of Greenskins, mainly due to the protection of Barak Varr," Blackheart Repp explained, pointing at the map. "The Greenskin tides from the Badlands are largely intercepted by Barak Varr, but even so, no part of the Border Princes is safe from the Greenskin menace—it's just a matter of degree."
Ryan and the others nodded as they examined the map, which clearly marked the border between the Badlands and the Border Princes, with the Black Gulf and Barak Varr cutting the region in two. Repp's "duchy" of Blitzka was located just north of Barak Varr, a shrewd location that capitalized on the Dwarf fortress's protection, allowing him to thrive in the Border Princes with his unique mercantile status.
East of Blitzka, following the Blackwater River upstream, was the Dwarf capital, Karaz-a-Karak, with Barak Varr trading directly with it via the river.
"Barak Varr is well-fortified, but that doesn't mean the area around it is free of Greenskins," Repp continued, describing his findings. "In fact, there's a Greenskin stronghold just twenty kilometers east of Barak Varr, called Arsenal Fort."
"Arsenal Fort?" Ryan questioned. "That doesn't sound like a Greenskin name."
"Correct. Arsenal Fort wasn't originally a Greenskin fortress. It was once the furthest outpost of the Nehekhara desert kingdoms. To demonstrate their might, the Tomb Kings built a fortress here," Repp said with some pride. "I found my sword there... ahem, and later, Emperor Sigismund II the Conqueror also reached this point, annexing the Border Princes into the Empire and naming it the province of Lichtenberg. At that time, Arsenal Fort was the Empire's southernmost outpost. However, neither the desert kingdoms, the Empire, nor the Bretonnian knights who later ventured into the Badlands managed to hold the fort for long."
"So, if we want to rely on Barak Varr's strength to establish a supply line, we must capture and hold Arsenal Fort?" Sulia examined the map. "It's far... Eight Peaks Mountain is still a long way from Arsenal Fort."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Repp responded obsequiously. "You're absolutely correct."
"Even if we take Arsenal Fort, we're still over a thousand kilometers from Eight Peaks Mountain. Southeast of Arsenal Fort are two large Greenskin strongholds, Iron Rock and Black Crag. The good news is that my scouts have learned that Black Crag was destroyed in the last joint military action between the Dwarf High King and the Iron Peak Dwarfs. The Greenskin warlord Skarsnik, or in Dwarvish, Gorbad Ironclaw, has been slain. The High King gifted his head to the Iron Peak King, Kazador the Dragonslayer, so we don't need to worry about reinforcements from Black Crag for now," Repp continued. "But to be honest, the Badlands are full of Greenskins. They won't be much help to us."
"Six or seven hundred kilometers south of Iron Rock lies the Gate of Valaya, also known
as Valaya's Sorrow. It's another Greenskin stronghold. From there, Eight Peaks Mountain is quite close," Repp was about to say more when Belegar interrupted him. "We must take the Gate of Valaya! There's an ancestral path there that leads directly to the Gates of Titans at the foot of Eight Peaks Mountain. Only by capturing it can we ensure our supply lines remain secure!"
"If we can push to the Gates of Titans, the Dwarfs of Iron Peak will respond to my call, and Master Rune Smith Thorek Ironbrow will lead his Anvil Brotherhood to support us," Belegar's thick fingers pointed to Eight Peaks Mountain on the map. "But we must reach the Gates of Titans first."
"This will be an incredibly difficult campaign," Ryan said, crossing his arms. "A thousand kilometers of advance can't be completed quickly. I'm sure that as we approach Eight Peaks Mountain, both the Greenskins on the surface and the Skaven below will be ready for us."
"Indeed! This is the perfect opportunity to settle old scores! Skarsnik! Quik! Wait for me—Belegar will avenge my kin!" Belegar's voice was filled with deep-seated hatred. "In the end, Eight Peaks Mountain will be reclaimed! The glorious history of Clan Angrund will open a new chapter!"
"Only the heads and blood of Greenskins and Skaven can wash away our shame! The time for settling old scores has come!"
…
Ten days later, in the Old World, in the capital of Bordeleaux, the Duchy of Bordeleaux.
The entire city was gripped by a frenzy. Thousands of knights, accompanied by their retainers, had gathered in the city, driven by an endless fervor for war and unwavering devotion to the Lady. Under the new king's orders, they assembled here.
The noise was deafening, the shouts shook the heavens. Knights from every corner of Bretonnia had traveled tirelessly, heeding the king's call. It was the will of the Lady, a deep sense of honor rooted in their bloodlines. The great chivalric crusade called to them. Mounted on their beloved warhorses, shields emblazoned with family crests, and lances raised, they marched to Bordeleaux, answering Ryan's summons.
Now, atop the walls of the castle in Bordeleaux, Ryan stood fully armored, wearing his crown. The king smiled as he looked down at the colorful steel tide of knights advancing toward the city gates. The ranks were perfectly aligned, and the countless faces looked up, gazing at their king. It was a vast chessboard, a sea of lances and armor proclaiming Bretonnia's ancient glory and formidable strength.
In the sky above, Pegasus knights soared through the heavens, their family crests and emblems—indigo, deep red, sable, silver, and golden fleur-de-lis—clearly visible. Large regiments of foot soldiers and infantry retainers formed solemn ranks, waiting for the king's review.
Listen as the bells of the River Chanon toll, the war song of the knights echoes across mountains and seas.
Knights vow to forever be the sword and shield of the mortal realm.
Even if the gates of paradise no longer open for them.
Now, war has come.
It is time for the fleur-de-lis to bloom again in the mortal world!
_________________________
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