The arrival of the Worldrider Army meant that the Bretonnian forces now had to face enemies from three directions.
On Calard's right flank, Wulfrik himself drove a Chaos Mammoth to charge the defenses. The leader of the Worldrider Army, wielding Frostbite, was desperately searching for his opponent.
Five Chaos Mammoths, enduring a barrage of artillery fire and bullets, charged toward the walls, followed closely by Norscan Giants.
On the right flank, Calard was still engaged in battle, while Marshal Davout commanded the defenses. Holding his knightly sword, Davout's expression was stern as he directed his troops, preparing for a grueling test.
Cannon fire and magic lit up the sky with bursts of flame and smoke. The rain over Albion suddenly lessened, and the Chaos winds formed demonic shapes in the clouds. Wave after wave of artillery fire rained down, sending groups of Norscan warriors and Wulfrik's carefully chosen champions flying. Norscan warhorses trembled, refusing to advance, but nothing could deter Wulfrik's resolve. The Wanderer ordered a full charge, with one goal in mind: the Sun King's head!
The war mammoths, riddled with wounds, charged forward relentlessly. One mammoth finally reached the walls. The four-meter-high walls were nothing to the towering mammoth, which shook the defenses with a single stomp. Hundreds of soldiers panicked and fled in the face of the massive beast.
Hooks and grappling claws flew onto the walls, and a rain of javelins followed. Marshal Davout urged his men to hold their ground. "Soldiers, hold fast! The Lady is with us! For the Lady and the King! For Bretonnia!"
"For Bretonnia!" Davout's legendary reputation across the Old World inspired the peasant infantry and free company soldiers. At that moment, a beam of light shot from afar.
The mammoth was struck directly in the head, and a fountain of blood erupted from its skull. The beast let out a final cry before collapsing, crushing hundreds of charging barbarians beneath its massive body.
"The Lady be praised!"
"Support from the Supreme Matriarch!"
"The witches are here to help us!"
On the Luminark, Veronica, clad in fiery red leather, gritted her teeth as she channeled her magic into the machine. Rows of magical instruments, each with a series of progressively smaller mirrors, lit up as Veronica and her witches poured their power into the device.
"Whoosh!" Another beam shot out, piercing the skull of a Norscan Giant wielding a massive club. The giant fell instantly.
One, two, three!
Three of the four Norscan Giants Wulfrik had brought were slain by Veronica's Luminark before they could even join the battle.
Wulfrik's reckless decision had cost him all his monstrous units.
But thanks to their sacrifice, Wulfrik and his forces had breached the walls. They now faced the Red Dragons of Bastonne, led by Marshal Davout himself. The brave warriors, armed with gleaming halberds and greatswords, stood in formation, their valor shining like the Old Guard.
The Red Dragons clashed with Wulfrik's champions and the chosen warriors of the "Frosthorn" tribe. Armor clashed, blades sparked, and the Norscans' spears and axes cleaved through the Red Dragons' breastplates and helmets, while halberds and greatswords pierced the skull-adorned, Chaos-marked faces of the enemy.
The arrival of the Worldrider Army sent Be'lakor into a fit of laughter. The First Daemon Prince ordered a full-scale assault!
The Prince's Legion descended upon the battlefield, thousands of ancient daemons standing beside Be'lakor as they charged the Bretonnian forces.
The Slaaneshi Greater Daemon, Korler the Debaucher, didn't feel ashamed for arriving late. Instead, the Slaaneshi creatures were thrilled by their tardiness. Korler led his Slaaneshi chariots and dancing daemons in a direct assault on Bretonnia's walls and formations. Every attack brought screams of pleasure from the Slaaneshi, and every wound made them tremble with satisfaction. Nearby, a choir and orchestra of Slaaneshi daemons played instruments made of human bones, skin, and sinew.
Sickly incense filled the air as the choir sang. Drums made of human skin, saxophones of skulls, and accordions of sinew played in unison. Today's performance: La La Land!
The Nurgle Greater Daemon, Black Death, led its plague-ridden daemons as they lumbered across Bretonnia's trenches and moats, eager to share Grandfather Nurgle's gifts. Dwarf mines and concentrated artillery fire exploded among the Nurgle daemons, but the bloated creatures quickly regenerated. Only the Dwarf flame cannons could drive them back.
As the Nurgle daemons closed in, the Unicorn Guard was ordered to confront them. The battlefield soon filled with rotting flesh and Nurgle's yellow-green pus, as the two sides seemed evenly matched.
The Khornate Greater Daemon, Kuris the Bloodhound, roared in fury. The stench of the battlefield and the Slaaneshi choir's annoying songs made Kuris feel as if a thousand trumpets were blaring in his head. The Khornate daemon ordered all Khornate lesser daemons, Bloodletters, and Flesh Hounds to charge the walls. Dozens of soldiers fell in moments.
Ryan ordered his Grail Knights—Count Raen, the newly ascended Julian Cahon, and Count Devon, Hecks de Hys—to lead the Coldstream Guards and two units of Kingdom Knights to face these formidable foes.
As for the Tzeentchian forces? They didn't engage directly. The Tzeentch Greater Daemon was absent from the battlefield. The Tzeentch sorcerers, Pink Horrors, and swarms of Blue Horrors, Fluxmasters, and Fateweavers were left to the five Grey Knight recruits and their Genevian regiments.
Orders were issued, and troops were deployed to meet the enemy. Ryan remained seated on his throne, the Sun King gazing at the sky.
Be'lakor and its elite "First Prince's Legion" hovered in the clouds, unmoving.
Ryan and his Old Guard also remained still. Everyone was waiting.
Then, worse news arrived.
From Castle Carcassonne, the defenders, led by Egrimm, launched a full-scale assault, targeting every weak point in the siege walls!
Now, the Bretonnian army was completely surrounded, facing attacks from both sides.
Yet Ryan remained calm. He simply said, "Armand?"
"Here, my King." The Sun King's standard-bearer, Grail Knight and Baron of Merovingian, Armand, saluted Ryan.
The standard-bearer had always been a quiet presence in Ryan's court, as his personality was reserved. As a devout Grail Knight, Armand spent most of his time praying in the castle or organizing military supplies. During campaigns, he rarely spoke, only following orders.
"Deploy all reserves," Ryan ordered coldly. "And transfer command to Juan. He will direct you."
"Yes, my King!" Armand accepted the order but hesitated for a moment. "And you, my King?"
"I have my own enemy to deal with," Ryan said, his gaze fixed on the sky.
Armand left.
Today, the Bretonnian army would face its most brutal battle yet.
The fierce fighting lasted for hours. Though the Bretonnians fought valiantly, the dual assault from the Chaos daemons and the defenders of Castle Carcassonne gradually eroded the siege walls, leaving the Bretonnian forces like the last bastion of purity in a sea of Chaos.
Ryan deployed all his reserves, ordering every man to join the fight.
The Old Guard charged into the fray, their halberds and greatswords cutting through the daemonic horde. Under Raymond's command, the Bearskin-clad soldiers advanced, their gunfire turning Khornate Bloodletters into sieves. Raymond parried a Slaaneshi daemon's curved blade, sliced open its chest, and crushed its skull under his boot.
Even in the direst moments, the Bretonnian army held firm. The daemonic legions, upon which Be'lakor had pinned its hopes, were halted by the Old Guard's unyielding formation. Dwarf runes shielded them from the Horrors' flames, and the deaths of hundreds of soldiers left the Nurgle Greater Daemon, Black Death, severely wounded, its body riddled with hundreds of wounds and scorch marks.
Wulfrik and Calard once again engaged in their fated duel, their battle shaking the heavens. The Norscans were ecstatic, knowing the gods were watching. This was their chance to earn glory and divine favor. Every barbarian's blood boiled with excitement, for fighting alongside Chaos daemons was an honor many could only dream of.
The Bretonnian defenses wavered under the relentless assault. Many sections of the walls were completely destroyed, and soldiers used their bodies to plug the gaps. Yet, no one broke.
As long as their king stood with them, the Bretonnians would not retreat!
New soldiers rushed to fill the breaches, and the enemy paid a far higher price. Wulfrik's Worldrider Army had lost over half its numbers, but the remaining barbarians fought like madmen.
Be'lakor's expression shifted slightly as it watched Ryan in battle.
Ryan had joined the fray, facing a Khornate Bloodletter. Wielding Ghal Maraz, the Sun King moved like a dancer in a waltz, his hammer striking with such force that the Chaos daemons' bodies corroded as if doused in acid. One by one, the daemons fell, and not a drop of their blood stained Ryan.
Ryan single-handedly slew sixteen Chaos daemons.
Then, a Khornate Bloodletter tackled him, pinning him to the ground. The Grey Knights' primarch grunted as he fell, the daemon's blade stabbing into the soft earth of Albion.
A flash of light, and Ryan appeared behind the Bloodletter. He grabbed the daemon's tail, lifting it like a club, and swung it into six other Khornate daemons. With a flick of his wrist, his psychic blade emerged, piercing the Bloodletter's skull. Hot blood sprayed over Ryan.
The Bloodletter struggled briefly before going limp.
Ryan sheathed his blade, seemingly satisfied. He stood still, glancing up at Be'lakor in the sky.
Why aren't you coming down?
Be'lakor sneered, the First Daemon Prince amused by the unfolding events. Then, something happened that even Be'lakor didn't expect.
Without turning, Ryan drew the Sword of Justice, its blade burning with white-gold flames. With a swift motion, he slashed behind him, then sheathed the sword.
Behind Ryan, the form of a Tzeentch Greater Daemon slowly materialized. The Changer of Ways was frozen in mid-sneak attack, its bird-like head still wearing a triumphant grin.
A second later, the head tilted and fell to the ground. The Tzeentch Greater Daemon was banished from the mortal world, its blood soaking Albion's soil.
Interesting. Be'lakor suddenly found this human intriguing.
This was a worthy prey, a worthy vessel!
The Dark Master spread its wings, descending to the mortal realm. Its black form seemed to absorb all light, the Chaos star on its chest flickering. The skulls hanging from its body were trophies of once-great mortal heroes, and Ryan even spotted a Skaven skull among them.
"I am Be'lakor, the Shadow Lord, the Dark Master, the First Daemon Prince, the Ancient Daemon Prince, the inheritor of the Primordial Chaos," Be'lakor declared as it landed, lightning crackling behind it.
The Old Guard moved to protect their king.
A shadowy purple mist descended, engulfing the front lines. The Old Guard soldiers caught in the mist screamed in agony as their weapons, flesh, and bones dissolved into bubbling sludge.
"Everyone, fall back!" Ryan shouted urgently. "Get out of the way!"
The remaining soldiers retreated, and Ryan raised his sword. A brilliant psychic light illuminated the battlefield. "Dispel!"
"Boom!" A psychic wave rippled across the battlefield, sending the surrounding Chaos daemons flying. Be'lakor grunted, forced back into its physical form as the shadows around it dissipated.
This human... could dispel its shadow form, preventing it from remaining intangible?
No matter. Be'lakor drew its Chaos blade, black energy and lightning crackling along the edge. The First Daemon Prince beckoned Ryan forward.
Ryan wielded Ghal Maraz in one hand and the Sword of Justice in the other, both weapons burning with white-gold flames. His body glowed with a pale blue light, shining brightly as the clouds over Albion parted. The sun shone down on Ryan, just as the Sun King had always illuminated the Old World.
Ryan charged at Be'lakor like a bolt of lightning, while the Dark Master transformed into a stream of black fire. The two collided in an explosion that shattered the ground for hundreds of meters, sending Chaos daemons flying. Ghal Maraz clashed with Be'lakor's Chaos blade, and the Sword of Justice shot a beam of pure light at the daemon's chest.
But as the blade touched Be'lakor, a shield of Chaos energy protected it. In an instant, the Dark Master vanished, its body dissolving into shards of black glass. A shadow twisted in the air, stepping into the void and reappearing behind Ryan.
A massive, ink-black hand gathered dark energy, and dozens of Chaos beams converged into a single punch.
Ryan's psychic shield shattered.
The Sun King turned just in time to block Be'lakor's strike. The Sword of Justice clashed with the Chaos blade, pure psychic energy meeting pure Chaos in a fiery explosion.
Then, everyone witnessed it.
Be'lakor stood tall in the air, while Ryan was sent flying like a ragdoll, crashing into the ground and sending mud and water flying.
"You are strong, mortal," Be'lakor said, looking at the smoking wound on its chest. "But you are not unique. I know the source of your power now."
"You think you're special? How laughable." Be'lakor split into two streams of dark, twisting shadow, charging at Ryan. "Witness my power, mortal!"
Ryan quickly stood, two claw marks on his forehead smoking before fading away.
So, this was the power of a demigod, the First Daemon Prince?
The two forces clashed once more.
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