The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

"Welcome, Araloth. You and your troops will be crucial in this battle." Ryan jogged to meet Araloth, speaking fluent Elvish. "Very... very welcome!"

"Just remember, the Asrai are always watching the outside world," Araloth replied, his face showing a smug smile. "Including you. No one can escape the Asrai's gaze."

The Wood Elf reinforcements were a true lifeline. The Talon Guards led by Araloth the Brave were a core force in defending Queen Ariel of the Wood Elves and were entirely under his command.

"Thank you for your support. On behalf of my duchy and myself, we will always remember your help." François extended his hand in greeting. "Welcome."

Araloth, still holding his head high, was indifferent to François's gesture at first. After a couple of seconds, he finally shook François's hand. "This is a continuation of the ancient alliance."

Araloth couldn't help but feel secretly pleased with himself. He thought his demeanor was quite impressive and stylish. Lilith would surely like it. He wondered if the goddess was watching him. In truth, Lilith was watching the battle, but her attention was elsewhere.

Araloth had come to aid Brittany by the orders of Orion and Ariel, leading an elite force from Athel Loren. Contrary to what outsiders might think, the Wood Elves were very aware of the outside world's changes. They knew that to maintain their isolation, they needed to understand external affairs.

The Asrai had always seen the Bretonnians as useful. To the reclusive Wood Elves, the Knightly Kingdom was a buffer. If there were invaders, the knights would deal with them, keeping the forest safe. An alliance existed, and knights typically stayed away from the forest.

But what if Brittany faced serious trouble? That's when the Wood Elves would step in, seeing it as urgent to keep the conflict away from the forest.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Ryan said in Elvish.

"The rangers serving you sent messages. We know Kemmler and his army's target. We won't stand by and let this country become an undead realm or let Kemmler's plans succeed." Araloth's attitude toward Ryan was better, given that Lilith had chosen him as a partner. Since Lilith wanted him to get along with Ryan, Araloth obliged.

Despite Ryan's perfect High Elvish, which the Wood Elves disliked, Araloth decided to overlook it this time.

"We are honored to fight alongside you." Araloth turned, facing the knights of the Quenelles Brotherhood, holding his head high. "Once again."

...

The Wood Elf army joined Ryan on the left flank. Large groups of woodland guards and deepwood scouts replaced the Holy Guardians of La-Maisonel on the monastery walls. Araloth led a squad of cavalry and eternal guards beside Ryan, a handsome falcon perched on his shoulder. "Good evening, Ryan. Meeting you feels like just yesterday."

"Good evening, Lord Araloth. I'm surprised to see you here. It's said you, as Queen Ariel's chosen champion, rarely leave the forest." Ryan thought for the Wood Elves, a year felt like a day, especially with their long lifespans.

"I volunteered." Under the moonlight, Araloth, with his night vision, could already see the undead army's vanguard approaching the horizon. The distant, haunting horns announced their arrival.

"You volunteered?" With the battle about to begin, Ryan was calm. "I don't understand."

"I heard about a powerful undead Chaos champion resurrected, who held you and Duke François at bay in the Blackstone stronghold battle. I see him as good prey." Araloth played with his spear. "He will be my quarry. Lilith will be pleased."

"You won't get the chance," Ryan thought, either referring to Gur or something else. He spoke cryptically.

"Are you questioning my strength?" Araloth's pride ignited.

"Because I'll deal with Gur first. I'll use my hammer and sword to destroy that undead. The dead can't die again, so... complete annihilation it is." Ryan gripped his Thor's Hammer.

Nearby, Belagar stood on his rune stone, muttering. "I hate pointy ears. They love speaking their language. What are Ryan and that elf talking about? Not letting me know? I'll remember this!"

In the distance, the undead tide arrived.

Gur, the undead Chaos champion, wielded a black great axe, its serrated edge gleaming. He looked like a harbinger of destruction, bringing doom to Brittany. His decayed face and hollow eye sockets flared with blue soul fire. His blood-red Barrows armor gleamed with powers from the Chaos Gods, Nagash, and Kemmler, protecting him.

Behind him marched three barrow guard legions and two hundred undead Chaos chosen warriors, continuing forward under Gur's command. Following them were countless skeletal warriors.

Kemmler's undead army followed, including many cairn wraiths, crypt ghouls, and grave guard. Two terrorgheists flew overhead, while a bloodthirsty varghulf walked beside Kemmler, who stood on his black chariot.

On the left flank, Duke Matthew Bard of Mousillon led four undead knight legions, all heavily armed with lances and armor. A squad of blood knights also accompanied Bard, who remained silent.

Many undead knights still wore their former armor and weapons. The "Red Boar" family crest of the Artois family marked them as former knights of the Artois Duchy, slain or turned into vampires during the Dol Tower incident. The former Duke of Artois, Chilfroy, was among them. Bard regretted that Chilfroy's soul had gone to the Lady of the Lake's divine realm, leaving the resurrected Duke as a soulless puppet, otherwise, he could have bolstered the black grail knight ranks with a new member.

On the undead army's right flank were numerous bandits, outlaws, jobless wanderers, starving beastmen, trolls, and many Chaos-tainted mutants. Kemmler, offering large sums and promising rewards, had no trouble recruiting them. He spared no expense, using his last coins to satisfy them.

Desperate, Kemmler, with his broken Skull Staff, now wielded the Chaos Tomb Blade without hesitation, openly accepting Chaos cultists. Bard, realizing this, refused to stay with Kemmler and chose to lead the left-wing undead knights, ready to unleash his wrath on the monastery's defenders.

On Brittany's side, François led his troops close to the monastery's base. The serfs prayed loudly in the darkness, seeking blessings from the gods. Many serfs trembled in fear, seeing the formidable enemy. Some had already wet themselves. All they could do was pray, hoping the human gods would help them.

The victory at the Blackstone stronghold had boosted the serfs' morale. Most, though afraid, didn't plan to flee. The reduced numbers of the tomb legion gave them some confidence. François, learning from Ryan's reforms, loudly declared that any serf showing great valor would be considered for knighthood—a significant honor for a serf, driving them to fight fiercely.

On the right flank, knights eagerly awaited the clash with the undead. Led by Anselm, Karad, and Jerrod of the Quenelles Brotherhood, they felt immense pride.

François began his pre-battle speech.

"Knights of Brittany, soldiers, my fellow countrymen, our dwarf friends from the mountains, and our allies from the forest!"

"Today, we stand together to face Kemmler and his tomb legion. This battle will decide if we can break free from this undead wizard's shadow that has loomed over us for decades. It will determine if we can protect the land the goddess has bestowed upon us. If we fail here, the entire kingdom will be engulfed by the undead tide!"

"We cannot let that happen. This land is a gift from the goddess, and it belongs only to us. A thousand years ago, the Bretonnians endured countless hardships to establish roots here. We have thrived and grown strong, reaching this day."

"Now, for the people we love and cherish in our hearts!"

"For our unwavering faith in the Lady of the Lake!"

"For the most glorious and holy Brittany in the world!"

"Draw your swords and raise your lances."

"Warriors! We will utterly destroy Kemmler and his ambitions! For the Lady! For Winford! For Brittany! Fight!!!"

"For the Lady! For Brittany!!!"

Amidst the army's roars and howls, the undead tide advanced.

"Grrrrr~" Gur, at the front of the undead army, raised his black great axe. Under his command, the undead halted just outside the dwarf cannons' range, gathering together. At Gur's signal, they howled, spewing blue soul fire.

"Whoo~ whoo~ whoo~" Gur swung his axe, then pointed forward.

With a roar, the undead charged toward the monastery.

The war began.

Dwarf cannons and Bretonnian catapults opened the battle, bombarding the undead vanguard. Continuous cannon fire and massive stones shattered the leading barrow guards and skeletal warriors. In the moonlight, the frontlines were littered with broken bones and scattered limbs.

Despite heavy losses, the undead showed no signs of retreat, continuing their charge.

"Fire!"

"Shoot!!!"

As the undead army neared the frontlines, archers, crossbowmen, dwarf handgunners, and Wood Elves let loose volleys of arrows, blanketing the undead. The undead, lacking long-range weapons, could only endure the rain of arrows. Only the bandit merc

enaries from the gray mountains had bows and crossbows, while the rest of the undead were defenseless.

"Return fire!" The mercenaries, ruthless and willing to sell their swords to anyone, obeyed Kemmler's orders. They launched a counterattack, sending bolts and arrows towards the center, hitting many serf soldiers who couldn't raise their shields in time.

The center held firm. François, aware of the serfs' fragile morale, had positioned the seasoned Winford Penal Regiment at the front. These veteran soldiers stood tall, inspiring the rest. The serf archers fired flaming and regular arrows at the mercenaries.

The mercenaries, unable to withstand the chaotic rain of arrows, suffered heavy losses. Some tried to retreat, only to find the undead blocking their way. Kemmler's message was clear: fight and earn rewards or die.

Reluctantly, the mercenaries continued shooting.

As the undead army closed in on the left flank and center, the slaughter began. Ryan watched as his pikemen and the Wood Elves' eternal guards fought side by side. The brutal clash with the skeletal warriors and barrow guards forced them to retreat. The undead fought silently, while the soldiers cursed and stabbed, trying to hold the line.

"So, it begins," Ryan said, gripping his hammer, his eyes glowing with psychic power.

"Yes, it begins. I can't wait," Belagar Ironhammer banged his shield with his Angrund Hammer, grumbling loudly. "Damn, Ryan, I can't see from here! What's happening?"

Even on his rune stone, Belagar was only about 1.6 meters tall, unable to see the battle clearly. He only knew that the frontlines had engaged the undead.

"Our moment will come soon," Ryan smiled.

"Hehehe~ I like that answer." Belagar gripped his hammer, laughing heartily.

"Let's go!"

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