Travel through time and become a member of the Warhammer Empire

The horn sounded from the top of Magnus's Tower like Sigmar's howl, like a double-tailed comet streaking through the night sky, creating ripples over the city of Uberik.

Loud and long, with a hint of the magic of ancient runes, it penetrated the masonry walls and entered every frightened or sleeping ear.

"Hey, I knew that the dwarven-crafted rune of sonorous voice has always been very reliable."

The city of Uberrick was alert.

Just as Windlow and the five heroes had expected, lights appeared behind the windows. It was no longer the dim light of the ratmen's scarlet eyes, but the tenacious sparks of human civilization.

Perhaps the ratmen are very scary in the dark and can take out a dagger from any unexpected position to assassinate.

But in the light, after only a brief moment of confusion and screams, there was the clang of unsheathed weapons, the low roars of men, and the urgent voices of women urging their children to hide.

Dwarves and elves will never know how angry humans will be when they are awakened in the middle of the night to find a mouse running around in their house.

The city of Uberrick, a war machine rusted by two hundred years of peace, is making a creaking but firm sound of starting up.

The people of Reikland are the third most warlike province in the Empire, after Nordland and Middenland.

However, for the five people on the top of the tower, the sound of the horn also became the signal for the start of the ratman hunt.

Perhaps the Rat people are afraid of death and would run away in other situations.

But now that they have failed in their mission, if they escape back, the punishment that the rat warlords can bring will far exceed death.

Thinking of this, the ratmen from all directions rushed forward with a determination to fight to the death.

"My lord! The ratmen are coming from all directions!"

Imperial Sergeant Kruber looked down through the battlements and took a deep breath.

"The tower is too high. Jumping out of the building is not an option."

As for the narrow streets below and the roofs of the adjacent buildings, countless red spots of light surged like a tide, quickly converging into a terrifying tide of rats.

The squeaking screams merged into one, filled with the fury of a disturbed nest.

"Hey strong man! Then let's kill them all!"

The dwarf slammed his battle axe down on the stone ground, sending up a few sparks.

The anger on his face was directed not only at the ratmen, but also at the unguarded tower and the soldiers who neglected their duties.

"Human craftsmanship, and humanity itself, are always unreliable, but you, strong man, and you, witch hunter."

"Thanks, huh? What do you mean by that?"

The witch hunter's eyes were as cold as iron as he quickly scanned the surrounding situation.

As the captain of the entire team, he must remain calm at all times, neither mocking the ratmen, nor scolding his teammates when they waste medicine, nor complaining when they are alone.

"Holding on to this place is a dead end. The horn has sounded, our mission is complete. We need to retreat now."

The only exit of the tower has been completely blocked by the ratmen. I am afraid that it will not be long before these five people will be completely swallowed up by the rat tide.

At this moment, perhaps due to Sigmar's blessing or because the Tower of Magnus had fallen into disrepair, a floor not far away collapsed, revealing a path leading down.

The elf was the lightest, walking in front like a cat and jumping down from the broken part of the floor.

The five people, one in front and one behind, all came to the first floor and found another lifting platform.

"Move, move, it's weird."

Imperial Sergeant Kruber kept tugging at the control lever of the lifting platform, and then slammed it, and the thing actually started to work, slowly moving downstairs.

Of course, as the dwarf said, any machine needs a power source, and that power source is naturally Windlow.

He was still in the power room, working as a laborer, pushing the disc in the opposite direction and slowly lowering the lifting platform.

"If only Mousse were still here, she could easily push this heavy thing."

"No, no, why would she push that? She must have gone out with a sword and killed all the ratmen. Whether they were ordinary clan rats or some storm rats, they were no match for her."

But just because of this distraction, Windlo's feet loosened and he fell to the ground, and the disc began to spin rapidly after losing control.

The lifting platform naturally lost control and fell rapidly towards the floor below, with sparks of metal friction erupting where it came into contact with the wall.

Fortunately, there is a safety device made by the dwarves, and there is a mechanism to cushion the rapid descent.

If a witcher carrying two swords faced this terrifying height, even nine lives would not be enough.

Although the lifting platform finally landed with a loud bang, stirring up a cloud of smoke, the five people were surprisingly not injured.

Seeing that nothing went wrong, Windlo immediately stood up and ran away. Now the surrounding ratmen were besieging the tower.

He must move as fast as he can to the evacuation point arranged by Lona.

"Run! Don't stop!"

The carriage driver growled in front, saying that she had stopped the carriage here according to Lona's instructions and came here to pick up a few people.

After successfully pulling Wendlow onto the car, the driver breathed a sigh of relief.

"Olesya, the driver hired by Lona, Keith..."

"I can tell by your accent, Mrs. Kisley,"

Just as Olesya was still wondering how her accent had been exposed, she felt a sudden sinking sensation at the back of the carriage, and all five heroes had boarded.

Okay, now go back to the Red Moon Tavern!

Olesya, the tough driver from the Kislev glaciers, displays driving skills as wild as the blizzards of her homeland.

The carriage raced through the burning streets of Ubberek, its wheels churned over rubble and the remains of the unfortunate, the car creaking painfully as it jolted.

The screams of the rats and sporadic sounds of fighting were quickly left behind. Occasionally, some short-sighted ratmen tried to stop them, but they were crushed into meat paste by the terrifying charge of the carriage.

Windlow clutched the armrest next to the driver's seat tightly, his face pale. This journey was more exciting than any sea storm he had ever experienced.

If I had such driving skills and speed when I was doing business, I would definitely be the richest man in the empire now.

In contrast, the five heroes appeared much calmer, using this brief respite to check their weapons, bandage their wounds, or simply close their eyes to rest.

After such a long journey and battle, the five men didn't even take a breath. Their physical strength seemed to be bottomless, and it seemed that they could recover most of their physical strength in just one second.

Finally, the carriage made a sharp turn, rushed into a relatively intact alley, and suddenly stopped at the back door of the Red Moon Tavern.

"We're here! Come on in!"

Olesya growled, jumped off the carriage swiftly, and glanced at the alley entrance vigilantly.

Her vigilance was unnecessary because there were no ratmen nearby. It felt like a strange magic had enveloped the carriage, shrouding it in shadow.

Everyone got out of the car quickly. The witch hunter took a final look at the surroundings before signaling Sergeant Kruber to come forward. The tavern owner could not be fully trusted at the moment.

The peephole on the door slid open, a pair of vigilant eyes scanned outside, and then there was the heavy sound of the bolt being pulled open.

The wooden door opened a crack, and everyone entered in an orderly manner. Olesya skillfully drove the carriage into a hidden shed next to it, feeling as if it had merged directly into the night.

The door closed heavily behind him, temporarily isolating him from the noise and danger of the outside world.

The air smelled of ale, smoked meat, and old leather.

The tavern owner slowly came forward, holding bacon and ale, to fulfill his previous promise.

Lona's eyes quickly swept over the five people, and after realizing the witch hunter's distrustful look, he cleared his throat.

"Ah, it seems Sigma hasn't abandoned our unfortunate city yet."

"Welcome to the Red Moon Tavern, warriors. We all heard the horn sound. Well done. I am Lona, the owner of the Red Moon Tavern and a loyal taxpayer of the Empire."

The witch hunter nodded slightly in response.

"Victor, Victor Saltzpyre, witch hunter of the Church of Sigmar. My original mission was to escort prisoners to stand trial."

His self-introduction was concise and powerful, with unquestionable authority.

"Marcus Kruber, former Sergeant Captain of the Third Greatsword Regiment of Osterland, now a hired thug."

The imperial soldier straightened his chest and gave a standard yet not particularly standard imperial military salute, then turned his head and looked to the side.

"Damn, Wendlow, you're not dead. I rarely see an imperial merchant as long-lived as you."

This is indeed a true expression of his feelings, because the empire is full of dangers, and every time an imperial merchant goes on a long business trip, he is gambling his life on tomorrow.

Even in the cities of the empire, there are various dangers. Perhaps in Marcus's understanding, Windlow escaped from the hotel arson and his whereabouts were unknown.

"Sienna Fergenassus, I am the prisoner."

The fire mage nodded slightly, a flame leaped out from his fingertips, and then he looked at the witch hunter named Victor with one eye, one large and one small.

"Can I apply for parole for my meritorious service in the crime I just committed?"

"Badin Gaureksh,"

The dwarf ranger had already finished a full mug of ale.

"By the way, your beer...tsk, it's barely drinkable."

Despite his picky tone, he still tilted his head back and took another big gulp.

Finally, it was the elf. She gracefully put down her longbow and leaned against the wall. Her voice was cold and a little distant.

"Kerillian, from Athel Loren, the Wanderer, hum."

She didn't say much about herself, as elves always do.

Wendlow also briefly introduced himself

"Wendlow, an imperial merchant and a fellow villager of Marcus, originally came here to do business, but this situation arose and he is now trapped in the city."

He noticed that when Kerillian and Bardin heard each other's race, they both snorted at the same time, and the elf even cursed with his head down.

But after having fought together, at least the two sides did not quarrel immediately.

"Okay, enough pleasantries."

Lona clapped his hands and led the group to a more private underground room at the back of the tavern, where a huge map of Uberrick was spread out on the table.

"The horn has awakened the city, but the war is far from over. The ratmen are well prepared, and their offensive will not stop because of a single alarm. We have bought time, but winning the war requires three things: steel, food, and confidence."

His finger pointed heavily at the southern part of the map, where there was a large, clearly marked area.

"The Southern Market, Uberrick's largest food and supply distribution center. The city's defense forces and militia are facing enemies everywhere. They need food to maintain their strength, the wounded need medicine, and the defenders need arrows and spare weapons. More importantly, if we have to engage in long-term street fighting, or... are forced to be trapped in certain areas, food is our lifeline."

Witch Hunter Victor immediately understood the seriousness of the situation. A tavern owner asked, "What does this mean? The ratmen are well prepared? Are they under siege?"

"who are you?"

"He's a tavern owner. It's not like Ubberek hasn't fought in battles before. No matter what problems he faces, as a merchant, it's reasonable for him to stockpile goods and sell them at full price even if he doesn't make a profit, right?"

While speaking, Lona glanced at Windlow, who was not at all alert and completely forgot what Lona had just said about being forced to be trapped. He only paid attention to the stockpiling of goods.

"Yes, it's normal for merchants to stock up. Now we are trapped in the tavern. More supplies and more confidence."

"exactly."

Lona looked stern.

"According to the last chaotic news I received, from several people who had fled, the situation in the southern bazaar is unclear, but it has definitely become a battlefield. The defense there is weak, mainly consisting of market security and some temporarily recruited militia."

"I need you. The Empire needs you. Sigmar needs you to go there and find out the situation. If possible, help the defenders control at least some of the granaries and supply points, and clear a safe route for the transport team to pass. I will organize the personnel to follow up the transportation."

Marcus leaned closer to the map, frowning.

"From the Red Moon Tavern to the Southern Market, damn, we have to go through most of the city center. Can we take a car or a boat?"

Bardin wiped all the beer foam from his beard and pointed to a winding blue dotted line on the map.

"Perhaps... we can use a tributary of the Reik River. This canal, built by us dwarves, runs through the southern part of the city. Some sections of the river have abandoned barges and maintenance passages, allowing for concealed passage all the way to the market."

Kerillian was the first to retort the dwarf.

"There might be something underwater, so I chose to walk on the ground."

However, Lona had already made his own judgment and told the whole plan himself.

"We're going by land. Set off now. Olesya's carriage will be waiting for you outside the market. As for you, Wendlow..."

He looked at the young Imperial merchant.

"You'll be with us, responsible for coordinating supplies and keeping records. You'll also do accounting and cashiering, as well as rationing. This is indoor work, and it's very safe."

It was clear that Lona had grasped everyone's needs and demands.

Wendlow could only take a deep breath and nodded.

He touched the documents and roster that Lorna had stuffed into his arms, feeling a heavy responsibility, but at least extremely safe.

"Three minutes to prepare."

Lorna raised his voice and clapped his hands.

"Replenish food and water, take all available medical supplies, and go to the bathroom if you need to. Bring back food and survivors, and move quickly and quietly."

Everyone immediately took action, and the tavern was filled with a tense and busy atmosphere.

While complaining that there would be no problems with the river channel built by the dwarves, Bardin carefully wiped his one-handed axe and shield with an oilcloth. In this situation, the two-handed axe was of no use.

Kerillian checked her quiver, placing each arrow neatly.

Marcus and Victor discussed in low voices the possible obstacles and solutions.

Siena closed her eyes and concentrated, allowing the flames and heat in her body to slowly subside. Then she opened her eyes and returned to her previous calmness, with no more flames coming out.

"Three minutes are up! Let's go!"