The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

Ryan started by placing deer meat, wild vegetables, two spoons of flour, and various spices like pepper into the iron pot. Soon, a rich and fragrant venison stew was ready. Ryan and the sorceress sat opposite each other, enjoying the delicious stew. The kingdom knight scooped up a bowl full of the stew and offered it to Teresa first: "Ladies first."

The sorceress accepted the bowl without hesitation and tasted it with a spoon, then nodded, "Your cooking really is excellent. At least I don't have to endure those disgusting and inferior meals when I'm traveling with you."

Ryan paused, observing Teresa's beautiful face under the moonlight, her silver pupils looking through her black-framed glasses adorned with purple butterfly patterns. He smiled and said, "A kingdom knight with cooking skills like mine is rare, at least in Nord, unique with no second branch."

"Would you like some bread?" Teresa offered, pulling out a tin box containing several slices of dark bread, resembling the type eaten by the mercenaries outside. However, Ryan knew that a sorceress like Teresa wouldn't possibly settle for ordinary dark bread.

The most common and basic food across the continent was dark bread, but this wasn't the dark bread sold in stores on Earth. This black, loaf-shaped bread was made from a mix of some wheat, bran, germ, and very little endosperm, and often included wood chips and mud, baked to a rock-hard consistency if not consumed fresh. The proper way to eat it was to boil it in hot water, which made it soft enough to eat. The most disgusting part was that many loaves contained a high proportion of mud and sawdust, with dirt and other impurities mixed in, and most of it was fermented with the feces of saber-toothed tigers, a common predator in the northern regions, just a little of which was needed to ferment a large batch of bread.

There was a story about a thief who broke into a farmer's home, only to be killed instantly when the panicked housewife struck him on the head with a loaf of dark bread, blood splattering everywhere.

Ryan had little experience eating dark bread; at home, he usually ate rye bread made by the servants. This type of bread didn't include sawdust or mud and was made from a mixture of rye and wheat flour, to which the servants added a spoonful of sugar, some butter, and a bit of buttermilk, making it quite tasty.

But the dark bread Teresa held was nothing like that; it was Garon dark bread made from the sweetest sugarcane honey imported from Brittany and high-quality wheat flour from the plains near Brunswick, the capital of the Empire. The few pieces of dark bread in Teresa's hands were worth more than fifty silver coins. This bread was soft and delicious and could be eaten on its own without needing anything else.

"If it weren't for the fight this afternoon, I might have thought we were out here for a picnic, my lady," Ryan said resignedly, eating the meat from his fork and tossing the bones aside.

"I put it over here, help yourself if you want some." The sorceress was a bit embarrassed, "This is my first time acting alone. I was worried about not liking the food outside, so I brought some of my own."

"Keep it safe. In the wilderness, eat fresh when you can; turn to your supplies if there's nothing else," Ryan waved off her offer, picking up a roasted deer leg from the rack, "Want some of the roasted deer meat?"

"Sure." The sorceress didn't refuse, confident in Ryan's culinary skills.

Indeed, the venison was delicious—without the gamey taste one might expect, the meat was tender on the inside and crispy on the outside, making the sorceress close her eyes in satisfaction, "Not bad."

"Glad you like it." Ryan nodded, finishing off the leftovers after Teresa indicated she was full.

"Time is pressing, and I'm now no different from a normal person. Let's call a meeting," Teresa initiated, "We've delayed too long."

"Oh? I thought you hated being around smelly, bloody men," Ryan teased, seeing the usually fastidious sorceress taking the initiative.

"Don't think I can't tell, but you have an odd energy surrounding you, so there's no foul smell... As for the others, they can sit a bit farther away." Teresa lifted the tent flap to change clothes.

What she didn't mention was that the pale blue energy swirling around Ryan felt very clean and pure to her, making her quite comfortable, which is why she was willing to interact more with him.

"If the weather permitted, I'd find a way to get you some hot water for a bath. After all, you can't just jump into an icy river to bathe like I can," Ryan nodded, "I'll go call everyone."

"Okay." The

 tent flap dropped.

Ryan went ahead to the campsite to gather everyone for a meeting. The mercenary leader, Boris, was seriously injured. He had forced himself to exchange blows with the orc chief, damaging all the meridians in his arms and suffering several potentially fatal wounds.

Ryan had heard of Boris, the elite berserker who made his name with an axe, traveling far and wide as a mercenary, earning the moniker "Blood Axe."

If an ordinary-tier warrior was just slightly stronger and more skilled in combat than an average person, then an elite-tier warrior like Boris had further enhanced physical capabilities, particularly as a berserker, an advanced class of warrior that sacrificed most of their defense for offensive power. At his level, Boris could lift hundreds of pounds, and on the battlefield, he could handle a dozen fully armed soldiers single-handedly.

The racial advantage of orcs was clear, as seen with the orc chief who was approximately at the peak of the elite tier but dominated Boris in arm strength during their fight.

The mercenaries had just finished their dinner and were relaxing. Ryan could tell they were all very tired. After the battle, they had asked what to do next, and Ryan knew that having been delayed by the orc tribe, they had lost track of Bert. He had suggested they first find a place to rest properly.

Upon hearing Ryan's call, everyone perked up a bit and gathered around the fire. Even the severely injured Boris forced himself to listen, and Vilter, with his apprentice Banda, sat down. Seeing the perplexed look on Ryan's face, Vilter explained, "He's my apprentice, learning some skills."

Ryan didn't comment.

A breeze scented with lavender wafted by as Teresa appeared before everyone. She had changed out of her battle gear into a sea-blue mink coat that beautifully outlined her figure. The coat's hem nearly reached her calves, a pearl necklace lay on her chest, and her silver high-heeled boots accentuated her long legs, her height easily over 1.70 meters. Ryan well knew the Garon Council women's love for luxurious living.

"Now that Teresa is here, let's begin," the sorceress sat next to the kingdom knight and signaled him to start. Ryan announced, "First, some bad news: we've lost track of Bert. Before encountering the orcs, we were three to four hours behind him, but now, we're at least a day behind."

"Second, Teresa has exhausted her mana and will need a few days to recover. We can't rely on magic right now," Ryan continued, and everyone looked at the sorceress, who silently nodded.

"What are your thoughts on the current situation? Any information you can provide?" The flickering firelight illuminated their faces as they sat around the fire. Boris, injured and silent, Vilter seemed contemplative, and all that could be heard was the crackling of the fire.

Everyone sat cross-legged, except for the sorceress, for whom Ryan had arranged a seat because Teresa certainly wouldn't tolerate her clothes touching the dirt. To Banda, it seemed the kingdom knight was making a special effort to please Lady Trovik. Seeing no one else speaking, Banda thought it was his moment to shine. He had concocted a plan that would surely impress Lady Trovik.

"I have a plan, Lady Trovik!" Banda blurted out, ignoring Vilter's disapproving look and continuing, "I think we should pursue them aggressively!"

"Chase them down?" Ryan was intrigued, gesturing for Banda to continue despite Vilter's attempt to intervene.

Banda, feeling Teresa's gaze on him, spoke confidently, "There's a clue, an important one you overlooked—the Wickedstone. Didn't Lady Trovik mention she sensed the power of the Wickedstone? So, that fallen hunter must be near the Wickedstone. The orc tribe has been defeated by Lady Trovik, and I've heard from the captain before that once an orc chief dies, the tribe will fall into prolonged infighting and chaos. So, if we scout near the Wickedstone tomorrow, we're sure to find something."

Ryan exhaled slowly, his eyes wandering for a while as Boris coughed violently, Vilter remained silent, and Teresa looked at Banda as if he were an idiot.

Finally, Ryan spoke, "Mr. Banda, if I were leading a full knightly order, I might consider it, but we have only twenty or thirty people, all injured."

"You may not understand what the Wickedstone is; let me explain."

"The Wickedstone, also known as a Chaos Core, is a sacred totem for orcs, usually hidden in the darkest, most inaccessible forests, cave sanctuaries, or treacherous mountain peaks. Anyone daring to enter the area around a Wickedstone will face the merciless wrath of all orcs within a hundred miles."

"Powerful doom bulls usually guard the vicinity of

 a Wickedstone. Even I would be at a disadvantage against a doom bull, let alone our group of twenty or thirty mercenaries. Going there is simply suicide."

While Banda greatly disliked Ryan, he valued his mercenary group, having grown up among them. After hearing Ryan's assessment, he muttered, "Who's to say who will die?" and fell silent.

"It's like this, Mr. Ryan," Vilter interjected, pulling out a map. He pointed to a giant castle on the map, "Seven days ago, Bert escaped from the capital, Winter City, heading west."

Vilter's finger traced left to a town symbol, "Five days ago, our Blood Axe Mercenary Group and Lady Trovik spotted Bert in the town of Lutop, but he vanished into the snowfields. Despite our desperate chase, we lost his trail near Grantham Path."

"Then, it's the Min Forest." Vilter placed his hand on a large forest area on the map, covering about one-eighth of Nord's territory, where they had been attacked by the orcs.

"So, Bert has been consistently moving west; that's the pattern we've identified," Vilter explained, "What do you think, Mr. Ryan?"

"Bert is definitely trying to escape Nord; the entire kingdom is hunting him. Though he could hide in the deep forests and live with orcs, subsisting on raw meat and blood, he wouldn't choose that," Ryan said seriously, sensing something.

"Why not?" Banda couldn't help but ask.

"Evil gods don't want a useless follower, whether it's the Blood God who revels in bloodshed and slaughter, the Lord of Trickery who delights in deceit, or Salaris who pursues corrupt sensory pleasures. They all reject useless followers, only the Father of Decay and Disease accepts all," Ryan explained, "So there are only three possible directions for Bert."

The plot of the new book will unfold slowly, as the Hammer itself is a vast universe shaped by many creators.