Chapter 1077: The Battle for the Everqueen

Thud!

A cleaver slammed onto the cutting board, splitting a whole beef rib in two.

"Fresh beef offal stew! Twelve copper coins a bowl, add three more for extra noodles, twenty for a cup of apple cider, and thirty for a large bowl! Only a hundred pounds prepared, sold out when it's gone!"

The bustling streets were packed with people. The High Elves, though somewhat repulsed by the crowd, also felt a tinge of melancholy.

It had been many, many years since Ulthuan had seen such a crowded scene.

March 2520, early spring. The night was chilly, and this year's temperatures were unusually low. Yet, outside the city of Bretonnia, the atmosphere was anything but cold.

In the lively market of Guisoreux, the capital of central Bretonnia, a towering figure clad in master-crafted dwarf rune-adamantium plate armor, with the legendary axes Gorefather and Gorechild strapped to his back, stood behind a large stall. Angron, the Primarch of the World Eaters, wielded a massive cleaver made of fine steel, chopping beef ribs into pieces.

"World Eaters' beef offal stew! Cheap and delicious, simmered for eight hours until the bones turn to broth!"

Serfs and freemen alike crowded around with their coins. Lord Angron's beef offal stew was famous throughout the Knight Kingdom—delicious, generous in portion, and affordable. The only downside was that he only appeared occasionally. Now that he was here, who wouldn't rush to try it?

For the past while, Bretonnia had been in a state of grand celebration. King Ryan had announced the commencement of the Grand Canal Parade to mark the completion of the third phase of the Bretonnian Grand Canal. The Sun King, along with his court and army, would travel along the entire canal, showcasing the achievements of his reign. The parade would pass through most of the dukedoms of the Knight Kingdom and had invited numerous distinguished guests, including representatives from the Empire, the dwarves, the Wood Elves, and even the legendary High Elves!

After much consideration, the Everqueen Alarielle had finally accepted Ryan's invitation to "pass through" the Knight Kingdom and attend the Grand Canal Parade.

However, instead of directly addressing the challenge Ryan had posed, Alarielle turned the tables. Citing the dangers of the Chaos Sea and the Claw Sea, she deftly sidestepped the issue, rendering the grand celebration and highest-level reception Ryan had prepared in Couronne useless. Instead, she delighted the Empire's special envoy Count Metternich, the High Elf ambassador to the Old World Teclis, King Belegar of Eight Peaks, the Wood Elf envoy Spaelic, and a host of minor nobles from the southern realms.

The Sun King was furious. He had gone all out to host the Everqueen, only to be stood up at the last moment?!

But before Ryan could even vent his anger, things took a turn. In fact, over the past three months, the entire Old World had been undergoing tremendous changes.

In the autumn of 2519, the Old World was struck by a plague of insects. The Battle of Six Peaks required the combined forces of two Imperial provinces to defeat Morghur the Shadowgave and his Beastmen insect horde.

In the winter of 2519, earthquakes and seawater flooding devastated Nordland, turning vast tracts of farmland into saline-alkali land. Several large Redhorn Beastmen warbands ravaged Nordland, and the Skaeling tribe launched raids from the north. Nordland suffered over 13,000 casualties before repelling the invaders.

In January 2520, a great plague swept the land. A disease known as the "Weeping Plague" or "Red Eye" spread across the northern Empire, infecting hundreds of thousands. The symptoms began with bloodshot eyes and intense itching, compelling sufferers to scratch relentlessly. Within days, the condition worsened, with victims weeping incessantly, their eyes swelling until they lost their sight, becoming unable to work or fight.

The people of the northern Empire implemented the strictest measures to combat the plague, but to little avail. Fortunately, the Weeping Plague and Red Eye were not highly lethal, and most victims survived. However, the disease severely weakened the northern Empire's military and economy.

The southern realms suffered a great drought, with large numbers of people and livestock disappearing without a trace. Entire villages and towns vanished, leaving no ruins behind—only a triangular mark.

The Beastmen of the Broken Horn tribe formed several warbands and rampaged through Estalia for two months before being finally defeated by a coalition of Tilean mercenaries and the Cult of Shallya.

In February, large Redhorn Beastmen warbands appeared in Middenland and Hochland. The war continued to this day.

Across the Old World, there were increasing signs of Chaos cult activity. These damned heretics had resurfaced, spreading doomsday theories. Imperial witch hunters, priests of Sigmar, and even generals became the busiest people, suppressing riots and rebellions everywhere. The Imperial army was stretched thin, struggling to respond. Every Elector Count except those of Nuln and Middenheim pleaded for the Emperor's aid. Karl Franz, though exhausted, had to steel himself and address each crisis.

Given all this, it was only natural that the Everqueen had reservations. Even Sun King Ryan couldn't argue with that.

In fact, Bretonnia couldn't guarantee it was entirely unaffected either. The Weeping Plague had once spread across the kingdom, but Ryan dispatched five Grey Knight recruits to purify the land. The cleansing psychic powers of Betan and his comrades eradicated the plague's influence. These five "Sons of Bretonnia" were hailed as "miracles of the Lady" by the serfs. Wherever they went, the afflicted were cured, and the Weeping Plague vanished from Bretonnia.

As for the Beastmen, their activities within Bretonnia were also alarmingly frequent.

In the Battle of Athel Loren in 2518, Bertrand and Marshal Rokossovsky defeated a large Beastmen army. Then Ryan personally led an army deep into the forest to wipe out the remaining Beastmen tribes.

What followed was relatively straightforward. In June 2519, a Beastmen tribe gathered in the Forest of Chalons and was quelled by Angron and two Custodians.

In October 2519, a herd of Brayherds gathered in the Forest of Chalons and was exterminated by Angron and three Custodians.

In January 2520, another large herd of over two thousand Brayherds formed several warbands in the southern Grey Mountains. Before they could attack Athel Loren, they were slaughtered by Angron, who happened to be out purchasing brandy (a special order for the Emperor).

Why is it always you?

By now, even the most oblivious nobles had realized that something terrible was happening across the world.

Bretonnia's current peace and stability were the result of multiple forces working together. The common folk especially cherished the tranquility they now enjoyed. The grand festival and the Grand Canal Parade, coupled with the lifting of the curfew, gave the people a chance to celebrate. Today, Guisoreux was particularly lively.

The Everqueen Alarielle, as delicate and exquisite as the finest jade, strolled through the market of Guisoreux under the protection of a group of handmaidens of Avelorn and High Elf mages. Alarielle seemed quite interested in everything human, stopping to look around and occasionally offering her thoughts.

The Everqueen's charm was beyond words. Her figure, beauty, and demeanor made her seem like a treasure fallen from the heavens. She was utterly untainted by the mundane world, her every movement captivating those around her. Wherever she appeared, the air seemed to sweeten, and the light softened.

Yes, Alarielle had indeed outmaneuvered the Sun King, but she had still come. The Everqueen skipped the welcoming ceremony and instead landed at the Mannan Drydock in Bordeleaux, making her appearance halfway through the Grand Canal Parade. This approach, both formal and informal, garnered maximum attention and diplomatic benefits while showcasing her sincerity in attending despite the dangers. Ryan couldn't even blame her for standing him up earlier.

Truly, the High Elves were masters of such tactics. Ryan felt the gap in skill keenly. He thought to himself that he was still too green—perhaps he needed his brother Guilliman to match wits with these pointy-eared folk. Nevertheless, he treated the Everqueen with the courtesy befitting a High Elf heir, arranging two large estates for her and her entourage.

However, Ryan wasn't entirely passive. He renamed the two estates "Cheong Wa Dae" and "Seobinggo." The High Elves immediately realized that the Sun King's actions must have some deeper meaning, but even the most learned mages of the White Tower and the High Elf ambassador to the Old World couldn't find any references to "Cheong Wa Dae" and "Seobinggo" in their extensive archives. The terms sounded elegant and refined on the surface, so they eventually let it go.

As the festivities continued and the streets came alive with the early night, the Everqueen and her entourage wandered about.

The Dragon Prince Torondil of Caledor looked upon everything with disdain, contempt, and impatience, his nose held high as he surveyed the scene.

The Archmage Alarielle of the White Tower viewed everything with goodwill, especially in Bretonnia. As one of the staunchest allies of the White Tower, Ryan's strength, character, and talent were all worthy of trust.

As for the noble handmaiden Yspharil Daltryen, assigned by the Everqueen to her daughter, her attention was solely focused on Alarielle. Her gaze first fell on the two annoying little monkeys, her eyes flashing with frustration and annoyance, then shifted to the giant man selling beef offal. Her face couldn't help but show a mix of wariness and tension.

A demigod? Selling beef offal on the street?

Was this reasonable?

"Princess Alarielle!" Frederick, dressed in a standard Nuln military uniform—white shirt, black robe, with an iron cross emblem, a black and gold lion-and-scales insignia on his shoulder, and the holy symbol of the war goddess Myrmidia—enthusiastically introduced the Everqueen to the city. "Guisoreux is where my father was first enfeoffed and where he rose to prominence. My mother also lived here for a long time. This is my second home, and I know it very well. If you'd like, I can take you on a tour tomorrow."

"Thank you, I'll consider it." Alarielle's delicate face showed a polite smile. Having just arrived in Guisoreux and attended a full day of diplomatic events and court banquets, the Everqueen remained poised and graceful. She handled Frederick's enthusiasm with ease but made no promises. "My schedule will be decided after discussions with my entourage. I can't make decisions on a whim."

"What does Frederick know about Guisoreux? Let me tell you, no one knows this city better than I do, Your Highness." Devonshire, dressed in a full set of new-style knight attire—a blue, gold-trimmed coat, white shirt, and red breeches—looked both majestic and elegant. His outfit bore the family crest of Ryan—a white field with a golden fleur-de-lis, a chalice, and a sword—as well as the pegasus emblem of his mother Sulia and the moon and cloud patterns of his mother Lilith.

Seeing that the Everqueen didn't respond, Devonshire grew anxious and quickly added, "We were both born here, and I grew up here. I know every blade of grass, every street, every building. I can definitely do a better job than him."

"No! I'm better suited! I can be a great guide!"

"That guy's no good. I've spent more time here, and I can even take you to my secret cabin in the woods to show you my treasures!"

Devonshire and Frederick glared at each other, neither willing to back down, both vying to be the Everqueen's guide.

Ever since they first met Alarielle in Bordeleaux, Devonshire and Frederick had been in this strange state.

"Whether we'll go out tomorrow, visit the Lady of the Lake's tower, or meet with our Asrai kin will be decided after discussions with Torondil and the others tonight." Alarielle watched the two brothers argue for a while before finally speaking with a hint of hesitation. She blinked her star-like, diamond-bright eyes. "Is this the beef offal Devonshire recommended?"

"Yes, yes! Uncle Angron's beef offal is the best in the world! Your Highness, you must try it." Devonshire shot a triumphant glance at the lagging Frederick, the young baron emphasizing, "You won't regret it."

"According to Asur customs, we rarely eat meat." Alarielle looked at the bubbling broth in the large pot, hesitating. Her radiant face showed a trace of confusion as she focused on Angron. "Why are you here? This isn't a place for someone like you."

"I'm just a simple farmer." Angron smiled faintly, and as he bared his teeth, handmaiden Yspharil Daltryen instinctively gripped the hilt of her curved blade. The Primarch of the World Eaters, a demigod, glanced indifferently at the elven handmaiden. "Want a bowl of beef offal? I made it. Guaranteed to be delicious."

"Elven tastes may not align with human preferences." Alarielle glanced at the ingredients, her expression showing reluctance.

The World Eaters' beef offal stew was made from beef heart, lung, liver, tripe, and pancreas. Seeing that Alarielle didn't want to eat, Devonshire took a large bowl from Angron and started eating enthusiastically. "It's really good. Even Grandpa says Uncle Angron's beef offal is the best."

Devonshire's words only made Alarielle even less inclined to try it. The Everqueen took a delicate step back and shook her head. "I'm a bit tired. I'm sorry, but I'd like to return."

"Will Your Highness come out tomorrow?" Frederick pressed.

"Tomorrow's plans... we'll discuss them when we return!" Alarielle took another step back, shaking her head. "Thank you for showing me around the market today. I enjoyed it."

With that, the Everqueen departed under the protection of the Dragon Prince, the Archmage, and the handmaidens of Avelorn.

"Did you hear that, Fred? She said she enjoyed it!" Devonshire quickly finished his bowl of beef offal, the young baron excitedly turning to his brother. "Looks like I did pretty well!"

"She enjoyed it, huh? Well, I enjoyed it too!" Frederick stared blankly at the Everqueen's retreating figure before snapping back to reality, grumbling, "Wait, what does that have to do with you? You little brat! If anyone did well, it's me, not you!"

"It was clearly my doing!" Devonshire's anger flared, and he shouted at Frederick, "I was the one who invited her!"

"Ha! You invited her? All you did was ask if she wanted to go out after the banquet!" Frederick sneered. "Look at what you did—taking her to eat beef offal? Idiot! You scared her off!"

"What? Fred, you moron, she was just tired!"

"You scared her off!"

"She was tired!"

"You Ostermark jackass!"

"You Carcassonne bumpkin!"

The two boys tussled, their pristine clothes quickly becoming dirty and wrinkled. Neither was willing to let go. Devonshire grabbed Frederick's chest, while Frederick clutched his shoulders.

Angron watched the scene without intervening, instead bursting into laughter.

"Ah, youth! Hahahaha!"

"Enough, both of you!"

At that moment, a stern and displeased voice rang out from a distance, accompanied by the sound of silver bells.

"Dad, Mom! He started it!"

"Dad, Mom, and Mom Lilith! Fred was the one who started cursing!"

Sun King Ryan arrived with the Lady of the Lake Lilith, Queen Sulia, Imperial Baroness Emilia, and his personal maid Olica. The four women laughed heartily at the sight of the two boys fighting, while Ryan's expression darkened.

What on earth was wrong with these two brats?

Since when were they interested in pointy-ears?

Where did this bad influence come from?

This won't do! They must be disciplined!