The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

"I found him, but before that, can the Archbishop answer a question for me?"

"…Please go ahead."

"What exactly is going on with Mr. Butte?"

There was a silence from within the bracelet, then the authoritative voice spoke slowly, "Ryan, as you may know, Butte is a witch hunter."

"Yes, I know… Was he corrupted by Chaos? A renowned witch hunter of twenty years, just like that, corrupted by Chaos?" Ryan's name was mentioned as he listened intently to the Archbishop's tale, recalling the intelligence he now possessed.

One hundred fifty years ago, barbarians from the northern Chaos Wastelands rallied under the call of Chaos, forming a massive army of over half a million. They marched southward, destroying everything in their path and even breaking through the imperial capital.

After the Battle of Fasha, a new empire was established from the ruins. The imperial council elected Ludwig as the new emperor. Since the original capital, Weismenitz, was utterly destroyed, Ludwig made Brunswick the new capital. However, the corruption of Chaos did not fade from the land. Corruption, disease, mutants, and cultists roamed freely, and the imperial army could not be dispatched for every minor incident.

Thus, the profession of witch hunters emerged. The internal cultural decay and the spread of heretical beliefs among the populace needed forceful cleansers in these dark and murky times.

Witch hunters roamed, clearing heretics and monsters, battling against Chaos.

Butte was such a witch hunter, famous twelve years ago for single-handedly eliminating an entire cult of the dark gods, earning him a legendary reputation and the title of Grandmaster Hunter.

However, Ryan was here to pursue Butte!

Throughout his career, this Grandmaster seemed increasingly reclusive and unwilling to communicate, even avoiding regular meetings. He was always secretive and continuously collecting something.

Five months ago, the Archbishop of the Nord Kingdom's Church of Justice, Innocent, received a letter from Grandmaster Butte, asking for help. He wrote that he constantly heard demonic whispers and saw endless seas of blood and slaughter in his dreams. Sometimes he couldn't control his actions; he was going mad and begged the Archbishop for help.

This Grandmaster, usually independent and having several disputes with the Church of Justice, made Archbishop Innocent hesitant at first, but he decided to see what was happening.

Surprisingly, upon arrival, the Grandmaster outright denied ever sending such a letter and told the Archbishop not to use it as an excuse to interfere in his life.

Innocent left in anger and declared that he would no longer involve himself in Butte's affairs.

However, being the Archbishop of the Nord Kingdom's Church of Justice, Innocent quickly realized something was amiss. When he returned to Butte's residence, the Grandmaster had vanished, leaving behind a horrific experimental site where he had used living humans to create numerous half-human, half-beast creatures.

"I can imagine what happened, but what I want to know is why the Church didn't use its holy protection spells on this Grandmaster?" the young knight asked from his bed, puzzled.

"Because he was unwilling to pay the 'price,'" the Archbishop said before turning off the communication, as sustaining it consumed a lot of energy.

"…The price, huh?" Ryan, being astute, knew all too well what this "price" entailed.

The Church of Justice was neither a charity nor an altruistic force against evil; it emphasized that "justice has its price," and many of their services had a clear cost.

Grandmaster Butte was unwilling to pay this "price."

The Church was willing to incorporate witch hunters, offering vacations and regular holy blessings to ensure they were not corrupted by Chaos for those who accepted integration. They worked six months a year, but in return, 40% of a witch hunter's earnings had to be given up as "protection fees." Many were reluctant to sign such contracts, which required swearing an oath on sacred scriptures under the eyes of the gods, with dire consequences for breach.

Many witch hunters found these terms unacceptable, including Butte.

After the strongest witch hunter in the Nord Kingdom, Grandmaster Bent, was found nailed to a pine tree outside, Archbishop Innocent realized the gravity of the situation and turned to Ryan.

Ryan maintained a good relationship with the Church of Justice. He appreciated their straightforward dealings and their standards of not covertly persecuting others or demanding hidden fees, thus he had always maintained good relations with them.

"Much better than the medieval Crusaders!" he thought, realizing further thought would be futile.

After disarming his chainmail and setting multiple alarms, Ryan placed his war hammer and longsword by his bedside within easy reach, leaned back on his down pillow, and sighed softly, "A stranger, huh…"

Indeed, Ryan was not a native of this world; he was a stranger.

By chance, he had crossed from that blue planet, only to find that such crossings were not

 as splendid as imagined.

He had traversed a bizarre pathway filled with illusions for three days!

In that passage, he met a mysterious man with long black hair dressed in golden armor, marking the beginning of his own extraordinary adventure.

Upon arrival in this world, Ryan found himself transformed into a three-year-old child, eyed hungrily by a street dog.

His foster father—Lord Norman of Otenia—found him then, adopting the child and naming him Ryan, meaning lion, inspired by Ryan's brave struggle against a pack of dogs.

Twenty years swiftly passed, and at eighteen, Ryan embarked on his travels. His footsteps covered much of the Nord Kingdom, from the frontline Storm Fortress against the northern barbarians to the capital, Winter City, and from the crowded Nord spellcaster's holy site, Skyfort, to his current location in Wulan Town. Ryan hunted monsters and the fallen to exchange bounties with the Church of Justice, taking on various lords' commissions. By now, he had amassed a considerable fortune.

What would the future hold?

Lying in bed, Ryan slowly drifted into sleep...

In his dream, he seemed to return to his homeland, under the red flag of his nation, the traffic as congested as ever. He squeezed into the subway for work each morning, working hard just to support his family, saving diligently to buy a house. His aging parents were fortunate to live in the same city; he visited them on holidays and took them out, cherishing his father's advice and his mother's nagging. Although work was hard, it wasn't suffocating.

But everything slowly became blurred. After twenty years in this world, his memories of that other world were clear, yet the familiar faces of his parents and friends dimmed, as if covered by a shadow. Confused and slightly saddened, he seemed to endlessly fall into darkness...

Waking in the middle of the night, his cheeks were wet with tears.

The next morning, Ryan got up early, had breakfast, and sat in the inn's lobby while it was still dark outside, staring into the snow.

"If only I truly were a stranger, better a well-off dog than a displaced person," he sighed softly.

"Sir, you're up early!" The innkeeper, washing dishes behind the bar, noticed Ryan sitting in the lobby and casually remarked, "You went to bed early yesterday. Later, the bard started telling the story of Nord's hero, 'The Hammer' Ryan. It was really exciting; the atmosphere was electrifying. It's a shame you missed it."

"Haha, 'The Hammer' Ryan, huh? I hear his story every day, even see it with my own eyes." The young man merely smiled, facing the innkeeper's repeated inquiries about whether he had been "The Hammer" Ryan's knight attendant, he just smiled without answering, instead asking, "A few days ago, was there a tall, thin man here, cloaked, wearing a high, round hat, long trousers, and black boots?"

"I don't know." The innkeeper immediately showed a wary expression, setting down his dishes and turning serious: "Sorry, guest, but not revealing other guests' information is the rule of our business. If you're here for that, then you might as well give up!"

After saying this, the innkeeper reached under the bar, but the knight was quicker, shaking his hand to show he meant no harm, then sweeping back his cloak to reveal something.

A silver wolf's head badge appeared before the innkeeper.

"Sir, you're a White Wolf Knight! My apologies, please forgive me!" The innkeeper, seeing the badge, paled and quickly apologized.

"You're right not to disclose guest information; adhering to business rules is correct. But I am now commanding you as a knight of the kingdom, tell me the details," Ryan said sternly.

"Yes!" The innkeeper quickly put down his hand crossbow and shared what he knew.

"Three days ago, indeed, a strangely dressed tall, thin man came here..."

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