The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

It took considerable effort, but the Empire's various provinces finally reached a loose alliance agreement: autonomous governance as usual, but united against any large-scale invasions by the forces of Chaos.

The Emperor was not surprised by this outcome. The imperial provinces facing the threat of Chaos already made up half of the empire, and he only needed to apply a little pressure, along with the support of the High Elves, to get the agreement passed.

The Emperor knew better than to bring up the matter of the Council of Light, so he simply didn't mention it.

Instead, Emperor Karl turned to discussing support for the infamous female pirate, Areinasa Saltwater-Hate, in her planned raids along the coasts of Norsca and the northern barbarian tribes. This notorious pirate aimed to exact continuous revenge on the northern barbarians and fulfill the will of the sea god, Manann.

Areinasa's hatred for the Norscans knew no bounds. She vowed that her revenge would not cease until every Norscan was extinct.

This sentiment resonated well with the people of the Empire, especially those in the north. Whether it was Nordland, Ostland, or the Middenland, these provinces had suffered from the constant raids of the northern barbarian pirates. After two thousand years, reconciliation with the barbarians was impossible for the Imperials, leaving only eternal blood feuds. Despite regular trade with the Norscans, when it came to fighting, neither side showed any mercy, each wishing for the other's extinction.

Other provinces, though not directly threatened by barbarian pirates, also despised Chaos. To them, any pirate who fought against the barbarians was a good pirate, and if some extra barbarian tribes were wiped out in the process, the Electors wouldn't mind granting a knighthood or two.

After some discussion, the Electors designated several military ports along the coast where Areinasa could resupply, granting her a formal license to operate.

"It seems the Emperor doesn't agree with the Council of Light," Sulia whispered to Ryan, sitting beside him. "Lord Targris had planned to bring it up, but the Emperor never mentioned it during the council."

"I wouldn't have brought it up either," Ryan felt Targris's pleading eyes on him and simply shook his head. "Such matters can only be announced by Emperor Karl himself. If I were to say it, I might be seen as a traitor."

"Pfft, it can't be that serious, can it?" Sulia couldn't help but giggle.

"I'm not joking," Ryan was serious. "Humans are humans, Elves are Elves... We might form alliances, but we are ultimately two different peoples. On the battlefield, Dwarfs and Humans can fight together without any reservations, but Elves and Humans... it's difficult, at least at this stage. I can accept on behalf of all humanity, isn't it because I am human?"

"That makes sense," Sulia pondered the logic. She knew that despite its diversity, the Empire was a human-supremacist nation. Ryan's ability to command respect from the Imperials and spread his renown was primarily because he was a human.

The Imperial Council continued, but what followed was mostly trivial content: territorial disputes among the Electors, bickering, debts owed by many northern Electors to those in the south. Elector Boris proposed organizing an army from Carroburg to sweep through the Drakwald Forest, while Grand Duke Steir of Steirland traditionally "begged" the other Electors to help feed his starving populace. The leaders of Hochland and Ostmark expressed their inability to assist, but the Lord of Averland offered some support in the form of grain, on condition that Steirland increased its free militia serving in Averland.

Then, Emperor Karl-Franz introduced Ryan to all the Electors, announcing that as Prince Rick, he would form a strategic partnership with Count Ryan. Moving forward, they would deepen the alliance between the Empire and Brittany, contributing significantly to humanity's grand future.

In the midst of all eyes, and perfectly suiting Ryan's plans, he gracefully smiled and signed his name on the "Mutual Aid Pact."

Seeing this, Elector Boris immediately proposed signing a trade agreement and a defensive alliance with Ryan, who did not hesitate to sign.

With that, the day-long Imperial Council was concluded.

As night fell over Brunswick, the city was brilliantly lit, stars sparkling above. The Great Cathedral of Justice was always bustling, with pilgrims arriving continuously, especially with the Feast of Winter Veil approaching—the capital was crowded.

Dressed as a noble, Ryan and Targris, wearing his High Elf Archmage robes, were inside the Great Cathedral, pretending to tour the cathedral while chatting intermittently.

"Why didn't you bring up the Council of Light?" Targris asked with a calm expression, having refused Archbishop Vicmar's

 offer for a guided tour, claiming he had visited before and now wanted to show Ryan around.

"Because it wasn't necessary," Ryan gazed at a wall in the vast hall.

The wall was adorned with countless family crests.

These crests represented military honors as well as remembrance. Countless heroes had died defending the Empire, their deeds and greatness respected forever.

Their only aim was survival, ensuring humanity's continued existence in this world. Victory was always temporary, with evil soon resurfacing.

"There was no need. Why would you think it necessary?" Targris too looked up at the wall of crests.

He remembered some of the family crests from the Great Crusade, including the golden griffon of Savior Ludwig.

"Right, you must have already discussed forming the Council of Light with Emperor Karl?" Ryan whispered.

"I have."

"Then, since the Emperor didn't mention it during the Imperial Council, it indicates either too much resistance or the Emperor himself is reluctant. From the behavior of all Electors at the council, it's clear the resistance is massive. Look, even an alliance agreement against Chaos faced so much opposition; imagine the difficulty in establishing the Council of Light. And... Lord Targris, the Dwarfs haven't even arrived yet," Ryan shook his head. "Can you convince the Dwarfs?"

"160 years ago, it was easy to persuade the Dwarfs, Humans, and Elves to unite," Targris understood Ryan's point.

During the Great Crusade, when Chaos had penetrated deep into the Old World, it was easier for the races of Order to temporarily set aside past conflicts and grievances to unite tightly together.

Now, the situation was different.

"Alright, let's not talk about this. How do we infiltrate the Sanctum of Relics?" Targris knew he was being somewhat wishful. Achieving this level of cooperation without a major war was already impressive.

"I have a plan," Ryan spoke softly, "but I need your magic to help me."

"Okay." Targris and Ryan moved closer to the Sanctum of Relics, which was less crowded. The Sanctum was strictly off-limits to outsiders, so it wasn't usual for people to approach. Ryan and Targris, as guests of the Emperor, aroused suspicion with their curiosity, but it was understandable.

The area around the Sanctum was especially filled with penitents.

These penitents were a unique occupation within the Empire, particularly in the capital. Dressed in ragged robes, speaking holy words, adorned with scriptures, and carrying flails, they formed a distinct sight. They were often homeless and destitute, their homes destroyed, their lands desecrated, left with nothing but themselves, yet enveloped by a dreadful future.

However, they did not fall into Chaos, for the Church of Justice brought faith. These people believed in an apocalyptic end, all things eventually destroyed by Chaos, and the only way to salvation was through bloody penance and self-mortification. They took up arms in wars, believing this was the only way to bring hope to humanity. In times of peace, they prayed and practiced asceticism, surviving only on water, vegetables, and a bit of black bread.

Convincing these people to clear a path for Targris and Ryan was impossible. After observing for over an hour, Ryan and Targris noted that besides the large groups of battle priests, holy warriors, and a few demon hunters patrolling, at least several hundred penitents continually circled the Sanctum, praying for redemption.

"The Sanctum has only two entrances, the main gate and a side gate. Either way, we'd face over a hundred guards, including some of legendary power," Ryan and Targris discussed their options. "Damn, we can neither disguise ourselves, nor sneak in, nor turn invisible."

"I can cast a concealment spell... but do you see that barrier?" Targris pointed to a barrier outside the Sanctum. "That barrier has a divine blessing. Except for powerful curses, all other magic fails beneath it. My magic can shield us from divine detection but can't hide us from mortal eyes within the barrier."

"There are no patrol blind spots or visual dead angles; they have too many people!" Ryan complained, frustrated. This was hardly a standard infiltration mission! The area around the Sanctum was crowded with enemies!

Ryan and Targris couldn't just storm in!

After further discussion and seeing the impossibility of their situation, Ryan considered other options: "Who has free access to the Sanctum?"

They returned to the main hall of the Church of Justice, as lingering near the Sanctum too long would arouse suspicion.

"The Archbishop of the Church of Justice, his two chief chanters, Emperor Karl-Franz, and the Emperor's uncle, Maximilian, as well as Marshal Rick Helberg," Targris pulled out a list.

"Maximilian resides in Talabheim... one chanter

 is currently lecturing at the Emperor's court, the other far away in Nuln, and Helberg is in the Rick Guard Headquarters Castle," Ryan shook his head in resignation. "No need to mention the others."

The two discussed many failed plans. The Sanctum was right there, yet they had no way to enter.

"Lilith really should have..." Even Targris, usually unflappable, showed a hint of complaint. "She should have sent her son Aris instead of asking us."

"The Shadow King Aris, he's Lilith's son?" Ryan was curious now.

"Not exactly... Shadow King Aris is blessed by the Hunter God Khurnous and the Moon Goddess Lilith, hence he is known as the son of the Hunter and the Moon Goddess. It's an honorary title, not to say he's actually their son. Aris has his own parents, who, along with his wife, were killed by the Witch King Malekith during the Elf schism," Targris explained.

"Aris is over seven thousand years old?" Ryan continued, surprised. Even for a High Elf, such longevity was rare; ordinary High Elves lived about a thousand years, the powerful ones two to three thousand.

"Over six thousand, Aris is already a demigod," Targris said, stopping there as some information touched on High Elf secrets he could not discuss further. "Khurnous and Lilith both granted him a priesthood, which Lilith has complained about a few times. She already had few priesthoods and had to share one, which made her quite resentful towards the celestial gods, especially Khurnous and Asuryan."

"Hmm, I see," Ryan nodded.

With nothing more to say, the Sanctum remained densely populated, bustling with activity. Facing such strict defenses, unable to wreak havoc, disguise themselves, or use magic, Ryan and Targris were at a loss.

Just then, a cheer erupted within the main hall of the Church of Justice.

The Archbishop of the Church of Justice, "Steadfast" Vicmar, was making his way along the corridor to the main hall, surrounded by a throng of battle priests and holy warriors, apparently to deliver his daily sermon and listen to the prayers of the faithful. Crowds of pilgrims surged forward, each eager to voice their sins and seek redemption from the Archbishop himself.

The scene was chaotic, but Archbishop Vicmar listened attentively to the voices of the faithful, surrounded by people.

Targris and Ryan exchanged glances, Ryan's cunning eyes meeting Targris's confident expression.

With a smile, Targris silently recited a spell, bestowing a series of buffs directly onto Ryan.

Invisibility, agility, dexterity, magic resistance enhancement, divine art resistance enhancement, spell penetration, line of sight obstruction, enhanced damage, dispersal of bystanders, illusory disguise...

Ryan disappeared into the crowd.

As Archbishop Vicmar advanced through the crowded corridor, an unfamiliar pilgrim somehow broke through the throng and was pushed next to him. His face was plain, the kind that would be instantly forgotten if you turned away.

Some holy warriors and pilgrims thought to grab him, but somehow felt it unnecessary—"No need to hold him," "He's not a bad person," "We can talk to him next time."

Thus, the pilgrim reached the Archbishop's side, appearing behind him and then covering his mouth, whispering in Vicmar's ear.

"You are a heretic."

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