Travel through time and become a member of the Warhammer Empire

The cold sea breeze tore at the tattered sails of the Golden Deer, and also tore at the hearts of the survivors on the deck.

The burning outline of Miragliano gradually shrank on the horizon, and was finally swallowed up by the surging inky sea and low-hanging leaden clouds, leaving only an ominous dark red on the sky.

The relief of escaping death was quickly replaced by great confusion and fear.

Although the Tyrells sailed on the oceans all year round, every time they set sail, they knew there was a place called Home to return to. But now their Home has become a den of rats, so where is the future?

Prince Giuliano lay in the cabin, breathing weakly and laboredly.

It is true that the Aurora potion saved his life, but his physical condition could definitely not be restored to its original state.

He forced himself to gather the surviving Tyrell high-ranking officials on the ship - several generals, big merchants and union representatives.

The atmosphere was heavy as if filled with lead.

"Everyone..."

The prince's voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible, and any attempt to speak louder inevitably caused chest pain.

"Miragliano... has fallen."

A hopeless silence enveloped the cabin. Eventually, the irrefutable facts, the weakened prince, and the diverging interests of the different groups inevitably erupted.

An adventurous merchant who had ventured to Lustria was the first to read out his declaration of independence.

"A new world! Lustria! There are vast jungles, unexplored lands, and the legendary golden city!"

"Rather than being devoured by ratmen and chaos in the Old World, it is better to set sail. Lustria has a swamp town opened up by us Tyrells to settle down."

They yearn for unknown hopes, but are also well aware of the deadly risks of crossing the vast ocean and the terrifying legends of the ancient lizardmen creations deep in the jungles of Lustria.

As long as there is one person who takes the lead in splitting, the separatist forces will immediately expand.

Led by a mature and prudent mercenary leader, a group of people, mainly mercenaries, do not agree to go to Lustria.

"The Border Prince Territory! Although it's chaotic, it's far away from the center of the ratmen's rampage! The land is barren but vast, and the numerous warlords also mean opportunities!"

"With our wealth, warriors, and technology, we can gain a foothold and even unite our forces! That's the edge of our homeland, where we're most familiar and most likely to rebuild our strength quickly!"

They seek a foothold in reality, but also face the risk of being drawn into the endless wars in the border princes' territories.

The last to speak were, of course, the already very weak scholars, who had close ties with the universities of the empire.

"Empire! Order still exists under Emperor Karl Franz! We have knowledge, technology, and art. We can survive and thrive under the Empire's protection!"

They seek the protection of powerful forces, but are also worried about the chaotic threat and internal strife within the empire itself, as well as the future of being dependent on others.

Arguments, trade-offs, and even fears about the future and accusations against their companions' choices took place fiercely in the cabin.

Ultimately, with the prince's painful and helpless acquiescence, the future of Miragliano, the largest city-state in Tirell, was torn apart.

A few days later, in a relatively calm sea, the Golden Deer became a temporary departure point.

The ships of the voyage group, with their sails hoisted, headed resolutely towards the vast waters of Lustria in the southwest, carrying with them both longing and fear for the unknown.

The ships of the northward migration faction turned around and headed north along the coastline, heading directly for the chaotic but possible border princely territory.

The scholars continued north in small boats, heading for the imperial ports, seeking the asylum of Emperor Karl Franz.

Windlo stood on the lead ship of "Hope of the Elves", surrounded by worried representatives of various elves.

Compared with humans, the three tribes of elves were actually united at this time and were willing to go to the next place together.

He felt mixed emotions watching the Tyrell fleet go their separate ways. He understood their choice, but his own path had already been determined.

"Our goal."

Wendlow's voice came clearly in the sea breeze, with unquestionable firmness.

"Bretonnia."

The elves looked puzzled. Bretonnia?

The elves may not understand humans, but they certainly understand Bretonnia.

The High Elves knew of Bretonnia's existence, for the cities of the various Bretonnian kingdoms were built upon elven ruins.

By importing food and exporting elven products, the high elves made a fortune in Bretonnia.

The Dark Elves also knew of Bretonnia's existence, and had the same military system as theirs, with a large number of slaves used to delay the enemy and elite full-time soldiers used to launch decisive attacks.

The Wood Elves certainly knew about their neighbor Bretonnia, and they even had hundreds of years of experience kidnapping Bretonnian boys.

With no one objecting, Windlo took command, and under his guidance, the fleet sailed along the rugged coastline of Bretonnia.

Tyrell's clipper sailed on the calm sea, as if there were no ratmen anywhere except the city of Miragliano.

A few weeks later, Goronni's iconic wetlands, stretching along the entire coast, appeared on the shoreline, and the territory with its sturdy stone castle and busy fishing port came into view.

"why you?"

The Holy Grail Knight whom Windlow had known in the past was still tall and majestic, his silver armor gleaming in the sun, but there was a deep worry between his brows, far from the image of a pioneer who was passionate about new technologies in Windlow's memory.

At the same time, he looked over Wendlow's shoulder and behind him.

"Where's your elf? Do elves undergo mitosis like the greenskins? Don't tell me that all the elves behind you were split from your elf, and don't tell me that all the elves were born from you two like piglets."

The Holy Grail Knight's voice was filled with surprise, and it looked like he really didn't understand.

Windlow stepped forward and gave a brief account of the fall of Miragliano.

The Grail Knight sighed, wishing Miragliano was a Bretonnian city.

Because the farmers of Bretonnia will not waste food, they naturally will not let the ratmen steal the food. Without food, the ratmen cannot reproduce to such a large scale.

He then immediately gave orders to arrange for the elves and human refugees to be stationed in a temporary camp near the port, providing them with food and clean drinking water.

Finally, finally, a group of people who understand technology have arrived in my territory.

In the castle's simple but sturdy reception room, Windlow described in detail the horror of the fall of Miragliano: the endless army of the ratmen, the terrible war machines, the deadly plague and poison gas, and the devastating warpstone lightning.

The Grail Knight didn't seem to care, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the oak tabletop.

"Compared to the Skaven threat, the Bretonnian civil war is the most pressing issue."

"civil war?!"

Wendlow was shocked. Hadn't Bretonnia always been ruled by King Laun? Who would dare to rebel against King Laun?

"Yes,"

The Grail Knight spoke calmly.

"In the Principality of Lyonness, there is a man named Marubode who claims to be the illegitimate son of Laun."

"My God, almost every knight has a bastard. I think there's a high probability that guy is really Lawn's bastard."

"That guy questioned King Laun's rule, accusing him of weakness and incompetence. He said King Laun failed to grant fiefs to valiant knights and failed to reward knights who made outstanding contributions to the kingdom. He was clearly a Holy Grail Knight, but he didn't provide guidance to the adventuring knights. A large number of knights and lords who were dissatisfied with the status quo supported him. There were even rumors that he used forbidden necromancy."

Windlo's heart sank. Bretonnia descended into civil war? This was simply adding insult to injury.

"Where's King Lawn?"

Wendlow asked eagerly.

"While fighting against Malubod's rebels, he was shot dead by Malubod and died on the spot."

The Grail Knight stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the vast land outside the castle, shrouded in the shadow of war.

"According to the reconnaissance of the mounted squires, Marubod's large army is heading towards the capital, Goronni. I am waiting for the other knights who are still loyal to Laun and preparing for a counterattack."

"The threat of the ratmen is not the most important thing. I have to deal with that illegitimate son of Marubod, and then find a new king for the Kingdom of Bretonnia as a Holy Grail Knight."

As he was speaking, four knights walked in from outside. They were the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse that Windlow had known in the past. They had all become Knights of the Kingdom and were serving the Holy Grail Knights.

"My lord, the other knights of Cologne have already joined us. We have a larger number of conscripted serfs, as well as a full 1000 elite troops composed of kingdom knights and adventure knights.

Windlo's choice was naturally very clear. He and the elves under his command were willing to join the Holy Grail Knights and end this civil war in Bretonnia.

A few days later, they passed through the Arden Forest in the center of the kingdom and arrived at the Lyonesse Plain.

This should have been a prosperous pasture, but now it has become a bloody battlefield.

A loyalist army mainly composed of knights from the principalities of Cosquet, Paraon, and Bordreau.

The rebels of Marubode, mainly based in the duchies of Lyonnes, Artois, and Bastogne, will engage in a brutal decisive battle here.

The loyal knights held high the lily banner, and the silver torrent dispersed the conscripted serfs at the forefront of the rebellion with just one wave.

"These lowly serfs actually chose to join the rebellion just to make a living. They really don't know what's good for them. They betrayed their country just for a meal. Shame on them!"

The knights murmured curses as the loyalists' horses' hooves crushed the first wave of serfs.

"It's our fault."

Amidst the curses of the loyalists, there was one exception: the self-blaming Knight of the Holy Grail.

"We can't expect people who can't even get enough to eat to truly love this kingdom. If the serfs had enough food to eat, why would they join the rebellion?"

The conscripted serf infantry were like fragile straws, struggling to hold on under the aftermath of the knights' charge and the pressure of the rebel infantry.

Their spear formations could still be effective against light cavalry, but when faced with the charge of the enemy's heavily armored cavalry, they often collapsed at the first touch, resulting in heavy casualties.

This is Bretonnia's tactic: use serf troops to deplete the enemy's physical strength, and then use knights to launch a decisive attack.

At this moment, the serf troops on both sides were either dead or fled, and only the knight troops were left on the battlefield.

Marubod stepped forward, lance and sword raised high, an idea the Bretonnian knight wished to discuss.

The leaders of both sides communicated with each other. Since the opponent was also a Bretonnian knight, chivalry required the knight not to refuse whether it was peace talks or a duel.

Seeing the Holy Grail Knight walk out, Malubod laughed out loud.

"Haha, you treacherous fellow! Your existence is a disgrace to the goddess herself!"

The Grail Knight said nothing, because standing there was indeed an insult to the Lady of the Lake.

After drinking the water from the Holy Grail, all Grail Knights must swear a new oath of chivalry, one of which is not to participate in the conflicts in Bretonnia, but to serve only as advisors in the rear and not to step onto the battlefield during the civil war.

King Laun was an exception. Although he was a Holy Grail Knight, he was more of a king. The Goddess of the Lake allowed the king to personally quell the rebellion.

The Holy Grail Knight in front of him was at a legal disadvantage when he appeared here.

The Holy Grail Knight did not say much, but just raised his head. His aura suppressed every knight and serf present.

"I want to duel with you!"

Once this was said, it became the rule in Bretonnia.

The Lady of the Lake stipulated that if there were internal conflicts between Bretonnian knights, they could seek mediation from a third knight. If mediation was not agreed, a duel could be conducted.

But there is a rule: Chivalrous Knights are not allowed to duel with Kingdom Knights, Kingdom Knights are not allowed to duel with Adventure Knights, and Adventure Knights are not allowed to duel with Holy Grail Knights.

Knights are not allowed to duel against opponents of higher rank.

No one is qualified to challenge the Holy Grail Knight to a duel, and the existence chosen by the Goddess cannot be questioned by anyone.

But in the same way, when faced with a duel initiated by the Holy Grail Knight, all the knights of Bretonnia except the Holy Grail Knight could only accept it.

Only then did Malubode realize that he had been fooled. The rebel faction he led originally had an advantage in military strength, but here they could only force a duel.

If he refused to duel, all the knights on his side might turn against him.

But, dueling is not a problem.

Not long ago, he was met by a Nehekhara undead named Akhan the Black, who promised to empower Marubod with the power of Nagash.

The price was only to let Musilon, who was originally controlled by the vampires, be handed over to the followers of Nagash. Vampires and Nagash are enemies, and Marubod had no reason to refuse such a blessing.

"Accept, I accept your duel."

A huge and evil dark aura is gathering—Malubod's trump card is about to be revealed!