The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

The entire audience was silent. No one had expected the battle to end with such a result.

Everyone was anticipating a spectacular duel of spells, but not one that would be decided within a few seconds.

It seemed that Serinus-German only managed to cast a Fireball spell and prepare three Flaming Skulls before Gelt turned him into a gilded statue.

Immediately, a thought popped into the minds of the spectators.

Could this match be rigged?

However, the audience quickly dismissed this idea.

There are many ways to rig a match. If it were indeed rigged, Gelt might have used some method or promise to make German give up the competition for the position of Royal Archmage, but not through a direct magical confrontation.

Casting spells carries risks! No one can guarantee there won't be accidents, and in a duel of this level, a slight mistake could be fatal. If Gelt and German were smart, they wouldn't rig a match in such a way.

So, if it wasn't rigged, it must be real?

Gelt really defeated German with one grand spell!

This was shocking. As is well known, once mortals reach the Sanctuary level, they undergo a qualitative change. Every Sanctuary-level warrior possesses a unique, personal ability. In Sanctuary-level duels, defeating an opponent is easy, but killing them is very difficult. Yet, it seemed that German had been turned into a gilded statue, and people didn't even know if he was still alive!

Archbishop Vikmar's face was grim. Gelt becoming the Royal Archmage was not what he wanted, but there was nothing he could do now. Seeing Gelt defeat German with one move, Vikmar was suspicious of Gelt. Though he had no means to deal with Gelt now, he would definitely send battle priests and witch hunters to investigate him later.

On the other side, Emperor Karl Franz stood up and applauded vigorously. He descended from the main grandstand and loudly announced, "It seems the outcome is decided! Let us congratulate our new Royal Archmage, our Grand Alchemist, Balthasar Gelt!"

"Congratulations!" The cheers grew louder and louder. Though they didn't witness an exciting magic duel, Gelt's years of efforts had paid off, and he had many supporters.

The Metal Mages of the Alchemy Academy were shouting Gelt's name enthusiastically, along with cries of "For the Emperor!", "For the Imperium of Man", and "For the Holy Terra".

Ryan, Emilia, and Sulia also applauded. Emilia was openly supporting Gelt because Nuln's Black Lady and Nuln's Military Factory were allied with him. Gelt was also young Frederick's magic tutor. Ryan supported Gelt secretly, and since Sulia had no stance, she clapped along with her husband.

"Congratulations, Gelt." Karl Franz approached the Grand Alchemist, smiling, "You are now the new master of Volan's Staff. From now on, you are the Royal Archmage, the highest dean of the Imperial College of Wizards."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." The Grand Alchemist was somewhat emotional. It would be a lie to say he didn't want to be the Royal Archmage. Achieving his lifelong dream made Gelt excited, and he bowed to the Emperor in submission.

Karl Franz, however, did not immediately hand over Volan's Staff to Gelt. The Emperor looked worriedly at the platform, "Tell me, Gelt, is German... alright?"

"He's fine." Gelt knew the Emperor was worried about the Flame Sanctuary Grand Mage's safety. German had served the Empire since the time of Karl's grandfather, Emperor Leopold. Despite Karl Franz's slight dislike for German, he didn't want him to be harmed. The Empire lacked enough Sanctuary-level warriors to lose one.

The Grand Alchemist chanted a spell, and German, who had been turned into a gilded statue, was restored to flesh. Just moments ago, the proud Serinus-German was back. Still unwilling to admit defeat, the Flame Academy's Grand Dean muttered, "This... can't be..."

Before he could finish, the magic-drained German rolled his eyes and fainted on the platform. It seemed he would need to rest for a few months.

The Emperor sighed in relief. Without further hesitation, he took Volan's Staff from his attendant and handed it to Gelt, "Congratulations once more, Gelt. Do you remember our agreement?"

The Emperor referred to their pact eleven years ago, after defeating the barbarians in the Nord Sea. He had then expressed his hope for Gelt to become the Royal Archmage.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Gelt nodded, accepting Volan's Staff and kneeling on one knee.

Volan was the first Royal Archmage, and inheriting his staff symbolized immense authority for any mage. The staff could subdue the winds of magic for its wielder, drastically reduce spell failure chances, store more magical wind, and even absorb an incredible amount of magic in crucial moments!

"Remember your mission and stay true to your purpose!" Karl Franz nodded.

"Yes!"

Thus, the Night of a Thousand Spells ended in an unconventional manner, and the capital of the Empire returned to its usual calm.

Ryan and his companions prepared to depart for Nuln.

...I remember my mission...

At the same time, across the massive, eternal warp storm surrounding the planet.

In the Material Universe, Holy Terra, the Imperial Palace, the Throne Room.

The spacious, deep hall bathed in golden light remained unchanged. Countless tech-priests and monks worked tirelessly to maintain the Golden Throne, the air filled with the smell of ozone. Hundreds of cables connected to the throne, sparking and emitting faulty noises.

The area in front of the Golden Throne was empty, apart from patrolling Custodes and armed servitors. This was rare for the overcrowded Holy Terra.

After many long years, the Primarch Magnus the Red could hardly recall what Holy Terra looked like during the Great Crusade. His memories were sometimes clear, sometimes hazy. Deep within, he sensed a lurking darkness, hearing the angry roars and curses of Tzeentch, the God of Change, condemning the Emperor for taking away its favorite toy. After brief curses, Tzeentch would try to lure Magnus back.

Having served as a daemon prince for Tzeentch for ten thousand years, Magnus was well aware of the trickery. He knew Tzeentch's promises might not be lies, but the Chaos God would never fulfill wishes as hoped. For now, Magnus could control himself, closing his eyes to block out the dark whispers, which quickly receded in the golden light and orderly aura of Holy Terra.

Sitting on the Golden Throne, Magnus often dreamed of the burning of Prospero, witnessing his sons being slaughtered repeatedly. At the end of each vision, Leman Russ's ugly face would appear in his hallucinations.

Indeed, he hated him the most.

Likewise, sitting on the Golden Throne, Magnus began to understand the achievements of the former Imperial Chancellor Malcador. The Emperor always managed the empire from the throne room, being the undisputed ruler who resolved all issues. He could suppress the overreaching authority of the Inquisition, veto the High Lords' decisions, curb the most ruthless actions of the Grey Knights or Dark Angels, and handle the endless diatribes of Rogal Dorn and the Ecclesiarchy. Only the Emperor and Malcador could manage these tasks.

If Magnus were honest, he might tell his god-like father that he now understood Malcador's greatness. In just a few years on the throne, Magnus had witnessed countless people coming to see the Emperor: Primarchs, Chapter Masters, Administratum heads, Ecclesiarchs, Mechanicum Magi, Inquisition representatives, Astra Militarum commanders, Arbites, Navigators, Astropaths, Assassinorum agents, Imperial Navy officers, Imperial Guard generals, Commissars of the Schola Progenium, Battle Sisters, Rogue Traders, Custodes with completed missions, and Imperial Merchant Guild spokesmen.

These people came wave after wave, never-ending, with requests and suggestions for the Emperor. Some were crucial, others worthless, all needing the Emperor's attention and orders passed through the Inquisition and High Lords to every corner illuminated by the Astronomican.

The Inquisition saw the Emperor's return as a chance to assert and refine their rules, while the High Lords saw it as a guarantee to regain control. The Ecclesiarchy, too, sniffed out opportunities for their gains. Undoubtedly, they all had to follow the Emperor's will, but that didn't mean they lacked their agendas.

The Emperor remained calm and cold, handling everything. Regent Guilliman was on his Indomitus Crusade, leaving matters for the Emperor to manage. The time seemed to lose meaning in the throne room as the Emperor showed no signs of fatigue.

Finally, after an unknown period, the Emperor finished his tasks, staring at a report, "Is it bothering you again?"

"Used to it." Magnus opened his eyes, knowing what the Emperor meant, "Feels like a joke, quite amusing. It used to annoy me, but now I look forward to what it will say next."

"Tzeentch, always with new tricks." The Emperor didn't elaborate, pouring himself a glass of wine from a stasis field cabinet. If anyone recognized it, the wine bore the Winford Duke's family crest "Pure White Pegasus" and the name "Lussalus

".

This wine, exclusively for the Emperor, was the most luxurious on Holy Terra. Its taste was unknown, but it was the Emperor's favorite, making it valuable.

Only three people besides Primarchs had received a bottle of this wine: Commissars Sebastian Yarrick, Ibram Gaunt, and Ciaphas Cain.

Notably, the first two drank their bottles immediately in gratitude, while Cain called friends to share and even sold a cup to a Rogue Trader.

Cain almost got burned by the Ecclesiarchy and Sisters of Battle, despite the Emperor stating that once gifted, it was Cain's to use as he pleased. The Ecclesiarchy and Sisters still held a grudge.

Magnus licked his lips, "Father, could I have a glass?"

"You can only drink this." The Emperor picked up a green can.

The cylindrical can floated towards the Golden Throne, stopping near Magnus through his psychic power. Magnus took the can, reading the label.

"Green Bull Canned Liquid Boosting Supplement Drink (Mechanicum Prototype), Make Your Muscles Bullish!"

"Is this... a new Mechanicum product?" Magnus examined the six-legged, two-tailed, four-horned "Bull" image, hesitating to drink. He read the label aloud, "The Departmento Munitorum's only approved liquid energy drink! All-natural ingredients! Provides healthy energy boost! Delicious and deadly, feel the Emperor's blessing!"

After thinking, Magnus felt this drink might cause trouble. He put it aside, shaking his head mockingly, "Can't be anything good. Father, you'd think of Ryan, not us, for good stuff."

"Jonson tried it; he liked it." The Emperor read "The Regiment's Standard" newspaper, "His Green Bull was made from milk taken from Angron."

"Angron..." Magnus grumbled hearing the name, "Father, why let Angron farm at Ryan's? We need manpower now!"

Envy and jealousy spread in the throne room.

"A disobedient Angron? Mindless brute?" The Emperor's tone was cold, "He is less useful than a common Custodian."

Magnus raised an eyebrow, wanting to ask more, but the Emperor changed the topic, "You have two more questions, Magnus."

"... Can you tell me about your conversations with the Eldar's Reaper and Guilliman's Eldar wife?" Magnus pondered, "And the Laughing God Cegorach, I sensed you spoke with him in the Webway!"

The alert Custodes glared at Magnus, preferring Guilliman's competence over Magnus.

"No, and Magnus, serving Tzeentch for ten thousand years has indeed addled your brain. That's two questions, not one." The Emperor watched a floating servitor, "One question left."

"Heh~" Magnus thought, "You cold-hearted father, deserved ten thousand years on the Golden Throne."

The Primarch decided to vex his father.

"Father, congratulations on your first grandchild~" Magnus laughed, "Aren't you going to see him? Your grandson calls that alien god 'mommy'~ What do you think? Isn't that alien god getting too bold?"

The Custodes stationed at Ryan's domain regularly reported to the Emperor, recently sending a baby picture, now framed in the throne room. The Emperor occasionally gazed at the image before resuming work.

"... Magnus, if you aim to anger me, you failed." Surprisingly, the Emperor remained calm and cold.

"I want you to answer, Father!" Magnus was furious, "You haven't answered!"

"If I wanted her dead, I had countless chances." The Emperor spoke, staring at Magnus, "It was a threat, I never intended to kill her. Want to know why, Magnus?"

"Of course, Father!" Magnus felt curiosity outweighing annoyance.

"Because I discovered..."

_________________________

[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! $5 for all!!] 

[w w w . p a t r e o n .com / INNIT]

[+50 PowerStones = +1 Chapter] [+5 Reviews = +1 Chapter]