The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

In the Old World, Altdorf, the capital of the Empire, at the top floor master bedroom of the Royal Hotel.

Ryan, feeling relaxed, had just enjoyed a bath with the help of the dark elf. After donning a loose-fitting robe, he opened the door to find the room dimly lit by a magical lamp. Sulia, clad in a floral rose-embroidered white fox fur nightgown, lay on the bed, her long, slender legs adorned with white garter stockings. Her golden, curly hair flowed over her shoulders and onto the sheets. Seeing Ryan enter, Sulia looked up and smiled warmly, "Ryan, are you done?"

Sylvia, the head maid, sat nearby, unusually dressed in a simple white shirt and fitted trousers, rather than her typical maid outfit. She had been conversing with Sulia. Little Devonshire had already been put to sleep in another room.

This scene differed from what Ryan had imagined. Sulia's demands for her son were extremely strict, not even allowing Ryan much say in the matter. At just a few months old, she wouldn't let Devonshire cling to her, hoping he would grow into a formidable knight rather than a coddled child hiding behind his parents.

Not even the Lady of the Lake, residing within Sulia, could persuade her otherwise. Sulia's expectations for young Devonshire bordered on obsessive.

"All done, my lady," Ryan said, relaxing as he leaned against the headboard, looking lazy. "What were you discussing, my lady? Sylvia?"

"We were talking about you and Emilia. You've been attending banquets with her, sharing your glorious deeds. Have you thought about not coming back?" Sulia teased, her tone playful yet slightly dangerous. "Let me guess, were there many people suggesting you divorce and marry Duchess Emmanuelle?"

"Hahaha," Ryan laughed, knowing Sulia was a bit jealous. As his wife and the primary spouse, she had every right to feel that way. He gently teased back, "I kept asking if you'd like to come, but you always refused. I was in a bit of a bind."

"I told you to keep Emilia busy, so she wouldn't learn of anything!" Sulia gently pinched Ryan's hand, speaking softly. "I hope you understand, Ryan. You draw too much attention. Everything you do is closely watched, so you couldn't be involved in our investigation with Olica."

"I understand," Ryan nodded.

After Sulia made her decision, Olica and Sulia informed Ryan and requested he keep the secret and distract Emilia.

The Pleasure Seekers' Association was notoriously elusive, having infiltrated Nuln for over a thousand years. Even the savior Ludwig couldn't fully eradicate them, demonstrating how deeply they were embedded.

This Chaos cult avoided court politics and warfare, rarely holding large gatherings or rituals, making them hard to capture. Sulia and Olica decided to eradicate the cult entirely, an idea Ryan supported.

Thus, they split their efforts: Ryan attended various imperial banquets with Emilia, engaging in diplomacy and diverting attention from the Chaos cultists. Meanwhile, Sulia and Olica investigated the Pleasure Seekers' Association in Nuln.

"Did you find anything these past few days?" Ryan asked casually.

"Sylvia, why don't you explain?" Sulia smiled, gesturing for Sylvia to speak.

The serious maid nodded, placing her hands on her knees, and began methodically, "The soul fragment of Werner von Lach has been interrogated by the dark elf. Unfortunately, he was only a minor figure and knew little."

Upon encountering the dark elf, Werner had tried to self-destruct to keep his secrets, but the Chaos God rejected his soul, and Olica captured a fragment.

"We've learned that the Pleasure Seekers' Association has allied with the largest Chaos cult in the Empire, the Purple Hand. They plan to use a 'Twisted Changeling' summoned by the Tzeentch cult to replace young Frederick," Sylvia summarized. "Besides that, we only know that the leader of the Pleasure Seekers in Nuln is called the 'Soft Lady,' but we have no information on her appearance, age, personality, or position."

"So, the Masquerade Plan is still on?" Ryan frowned, annoyed by the daunting task of finding a single woman in Nuln, a city of over 300,000 people.

"Yes, the plan has only been temporarily halted," Sulia agreed, frowning as she held Ryan's hand, resting her head on his shoulder. "The Slaaneshi cult won't abandon their plan just because of a setback. Failure is just another experience for them."

"That's how the Slaaneshi cult operates," Ryan's face darkened, inhaling the scent of his wife's hair. "What else have you discovered?"

"The cult's ritual implements often feature Slaaneshi symbols or idols, with snakes and reptiles frequently appearing at gatherings. Common motifs include chains, masks, belts, jewelry, and piercings. The more piercings and heavier the studs, the more devout and fanatical the individual is considered," Sulia explained. "After two strongholds were destroyed, the remaining cultists in Altdorf went silent. Olica and I investigated several locations but found nothing; they've gone into hiding."

Sulia leaned on Ryan's shoulder, closing her eyes. "Olica suspects that Altdorf was never the main site for the Masquerade Plan; the Pleasure Seekers were only scouting and confirming targets. The real plan likely remains in Nuln."

"Mm," Ryan nodded, considering the information. "Do you think Olica's theory is accurate?"

"She understands Chaos and the Slaaneshi cult better than any of us," Sulia hesitated before continuing, "At least she... has always been on our side. From that perspective, she can be trusted."

Ryan sensed that Sulia might be withholding something about Olica or not telling him the whole story. However, he trusted Olica completely, knowing she bore his soul mark, and decided not to press the issue.

Turning his attention to Sylvia, he asked, "Sylvia?"

"R-Ryan?" Caught off guard, Sylvia's face turned red, her voice growing nervous. "What is it?"

Recently, the head maid had begun "pre-marital training" under Sulia's guidance, making her unusually shy. She would not have stayed in the master bedroom that night if not for her fear of a certain dark elf.

"I've spoken with Elector Count Wulfric about Mr. Vincent," Ryan said with a smile. "If all goes well, Mr. Vincent will meet us in Nuln."

"W-what?" Sylvia was stunned, looking between Ryan and Sulia in disbelief. However, their serious expressions reassured her this wasn't a joke.

"Thank you," the usually stern and proud maid bowed her head, overwhelmed with emotion after being separated from her father for over a decade.

Sulia, smiling, took Sylvia's hand. "Just saying thank you isn't enough, Sylvia. You need to show it through actions!"

"W-what actions?" Sylvia's face turned beet red, her voice barely above a whisper. "Madam, I..."

"Just like I taught you," Sulia teased. "Didn't I just show you? How could you forget so quickly?"

"I-I understand..." Sylvia nodded resolutely, despite her embarrassment. She seemed determined to do something.

She gave Ryan a quick, light kiss on the cheek, then fled the room, blushing deeply.

Ryan chuckled, not expecting a return favor but merely wanting to do something for the diligent head maid. Now, he could only accept what had happened.

Leaning against the pillows, Ryan casually asked, "My lady, who do you think will win tomorrow?"

Sulia found Ryan's question amusing, playfully chiding him, "Ryan, my dear husband, do I look like a seer?"

Ryan laughed, embracing his wife. "Sulia?"

"Yes?" Sulia's ocean-blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

"You've worked hard these past few days," Ryan said apologetically, feeling guilty despite their division of labor. He and Emilia had attended various banquets, while Sulia had spent much effort investigating the Slaaneshi cult with Olica.

"Do you really think I've worked hard?" Sulia asked, gazing intently at Ryan.

"Yes, truly."

"Then show some sincerity and effort, or I might get angry!" Sulia teased, her smile lighting up the room. "My husband spending days at banquets with his little maid, leaving his wife behind... I can't just let that slide, can I?"

Ryan laughed, knowing exactly what to do.

**[Sincere and Energetic Efforts Division Line]**

The next day, at the Imperial College of Magic, in the Light College's Pyramid of Light.

The "Night of a Thousand Spells," the competition to determine the Imperial Archmage, was held here.

The top floor of the Pyramid of Light was a large arena-like space made of pristine marble, with the stage and seating areas constructed from this material. The structure, reinforced with layers of Light magic, was extremely sturdy and resistant to magical influence.

The stage was about 1,000 square meters, with seating for around 1,000 spectators. Today, the Pyramid of Light was packed with renowned figures from across the Old World, all eager to witness the "Night of a Thousand Spells" showdown. This included several Elector Counts, numerous nobles, Duke Ryan of Mousillon, and Duchess Sulia from Bretonnia, as well as distinguished guests from Estalia, Tilea, and even dwarfs and elves.

Intentionally, Ryan's seat was placed near the Emperor's, with Emilia on his left and Sulia on his right. Both women, highly influential in the Old World, were dressed elegantly, drawing

 envious and admiring glances from the assembled nobles, who couldn't help but acknowledge Ryan's charm with women.

"The original 'Night of a Thousand Spells' involved many wizards competing, with multiple rounds to select the Archmage," Emilia explained to Ryan and Sulia. Dressed in a standard Imperial Elector Count's formal attire, paired with black sheer stockings and red lace-up heels, she continued, "But about ninety years ago, in one such event, hostility between the colleges erupted into violent conflict. The wizards attacked each other, filling Altdorf's night sky with fireballs, lightning, and spells of every color. After a backlash killed six of the eight archmages in various cruel and terrifying ways, the competition format was changed to only involve a few candidates."

"I see," Ryan nodded, though he couldn't ask more before a cheer erupted from the northwest corner of the stands.

"German! German! German!" The crowd chanted a name, the sound reverberating through the arena.

A tall, over-two-meter wizard with brown hair and burning red eyes entered. His body exuded a faint smoke, his broad shoulders and sculpted beard giving him a fearsome presence. Wearing a red-and-black robe, he held a black skull-topped staff, with his arms marked with flame magic runes. As he channeled his magic, his hair and beard ignited, becoming living flames.

This was Thyrus German, the Archmage of the Bright College, a powerful flame wizard, and the current Imperial Archmage.

Across the stage, the Empire's Great Alchemist, Balthasar Gelt, stepped forward. He wore a luminous magic cloak, a radiant molten gold robe, and a golden mask, with an amulet of sea gold hanging from his chest. His golden staff in hand, his face was hidden behind the mask, giving him an air of mystery.

The two exchanged respectful bows as the golden Staff of Volans, its head a griffon clutching a key, was placed nearby. This staff, imbued with great power, would soon have a new master.

As the Emperor gave his speech, Light College wizards activated magical barriers around the stage, with the candidates preparing themselves for the contest.

Balthasar Gelt stood on the stage, his eyes behind the golden mask focused on Thyrus German, memories flooding back.

It had been eleven years since his fateful encounter in the Nordland.

Finally standing on this stage, the Great Alchemist felt a sense of fulfillment, recalling his conversation with the god-like being in that ancient ruin.

"Your ultimate goal is noble, for the future of humanity. Continue your loyalty to humanity and the Empire," the being had told him, its presence illuminating the night sky. Then, ancient and sacred spells, profound and vast knowledge, had entered Gelt's mind.

Casting spells was no longer difficult; the metal winds now embraced him, his power growing ever stronger, ready to turn the impossible into the possible.

Becoming the Imperial Archmage was just the first step, Gelt thought. He had many things to do, fighting and researching for humanity, for the Old World, and for that supreme being.

"The competition can begin!" The sound of a bell echoed through the venue, and the new Supreme Patriarch and Light Wizard, Konrad, signaled for the duel to commence.

Amidst the anticipation, Thyrus German began casting spells, seemingly prepared in advance. He pulled out a scroll and tore it, chanting as a massive fireball, over three meters in diameter, materialized, burning with explosive and deadly energy.

"An eight-ring spell, Fireball!"

"An opening Fireball!" A knowledgeable wizard exclaimed in surprise. "In just three seconds! Unbelievable!"

In mere moments, a massive fireball was ready, its destructive power almost unavoidable.

Meanwhile, Gelt appeared unfazed, continuing his incantations, the golden staff in his hand channeling the winds of magic around him.

Emperor Karl Franz watched, his brow furrowing. What was Gelt doing? Daydreaming?

The Emperor remained silent, clenching his fists.

Thyrus German finished his preparation, pointing his staff at Gelt as the fireball shot towards him. At the same time, three giant flaming skulls materialized, circling German as his next spell prepared.

But then, Thyrus' expression froze.

The entire stage was bathed in golden light, emanating from Gelt.

"Fire cannot compare to molten metal!" Gelt declared from behind his mask, a brilliant light radiating from him as a wave of heat swept through the arena.

"Celestial Spell of the Heavens, Void Dragon's Forge!"

The spectators shielded their eyes from the blinding light, the only sound being Thyrus German's screams.

As the light faded, the sight before them left everyone stunned, mouths agape.

The marble floor of the stage was covered in molten gold. Balthasar Gelt stood triumphantly in the center, while Thyrus German had been transformed into a golden statue, his face frozen in disbelief and agony. The fireball and flaming skulls had also turned into molten gold, pooling on the stage.

In mere moments, the "Night of a Thousand Spells" had concluded, with the Staff of Volans finding a new master.

The entire arena fell silent.

Many in the audience could only think one thing:

"Wdnmd, he just wiped him out with one move, really just gave up without a fight!"

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