The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

"Help! Help!"

"Where is Lord Villard's reinforcements?"

The situation was dire! Now, the dock defenders' morale began to waver. The militia, seeing the enormous Water Ghoul King, were filled with fear. The soldiers, who had been fighting for quite some time, swallowed hard.

The Water Ghoul King pulled out the head of a dead guard, letting out a triumphant roar. The defenders involuntarily took a step back. The chief guard, Lauritz, was anxious. The forty dock guards had been reduced to less than thirty. Their morale hadn't collapsed entirely thanks to the courageous Kingdom Knight leading them; otherwise, they would have already fled in panic.

"No matter if it's the Water Ghoul King, I'll defeat it!" Banda thought it was his time to shine.

"No, Banda, don't!" Vilt yelled. This was at least an elite mid-tier Water Ghoul King, and something was clearly off with the ghouls today.

Normally, the ghouls' eyes were black, but today, both the ghouls and their king had eerie red eyes.

Something was definitely wrong!

"Roar!" The Water Ghoul King quickly noticed the young human charging at it. It raised its large spiked club high and smashed it down at Banda.

"Grr!" Banda could only dodge to the side. Under Vilt's training, his basics were solid. The huge spiked club hit the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Covered in dirt, Banda was about to attack again when the club swung from below, the force of the air hitting his face. Even Banda realized he was in trouble. He quickly brought his sword up to defend.

"Bang!" The clash of metal and a scream from the young mercenary echoed. Through the thick smoke, a body was sent flying and crashed to the ground.

It was Banda. His longsword flew into the air, and his right hand was severely deformed. The young mercenary gritted his teeth, cold sweat covering his face, clearly in great pain.

Not far from him, the massive creature was slowly approaching, dragging its giant spiked club.

Each heavy step on the soft sand felt like a hammer pounding everyone's hearts.

"Banda!" The members of the Blood Axe Mercenary Group shouted. Vilt screamed in despair, kicking away a nearby ghoul and running towards his beloved apprentice, but they were still thirty or forty meters apart.

"Damn it." Theresa's silver eyes were fixed on the battlefield. Banda had run too far, out of the range of her pistols. She instinctively wanted to channel her magic, only to find herself empty. She had already overdrawn her bloodline power two days ago. Overdrawing again could even cause her to lose her rank—Theresa had just recently broken through to legendary rank. After a brief consideration, she decisively gave up. It wasn't worth risking her life for a weak mercenary who had nothing to do with her.

Just as Theresa gave up, the towering Water Ghoul King emerged from the dust, roaring wildly and raising its massive club: "Oooo!"

"No!" The giant club came crashing down.

Banda instinctively closed his eyes.

"Clang!" Instead of the expected pain, there was the sound of metal clashing.

"Life is precious. You can sacrifice it for a noble ideal, but throwing it away recklessly is not the same," a calm voice said before Banda. A tall figure wielding a warhammer blocked the giant spiked club: "Understand the difference between sacrifice and senseless death."

"Your recklessness could cost you your life, and once life is over, everything ends. I hope this moment helps you grow, Banda."

With that, Ryan put all his strength into the battle. He knew that everyone's hopes rested on him. His bravery and strength had kept the defenders going. If he fell, their morale would collapse entirely.

The time to decide victory had come.

The massive club and the warhammer clashed again, the sound and shockwave raising dust and debris, making it hard for the people on the dock to see.

When Banda reopened his eyes, he saw an unbelievable sight—the Water Ghoul King's spiked club had been deflected by Ryan's warhammer!

Ryan was stronger than the Water Ghoul King!

In another clash, the club was deflected again, and the Water Ghoul King stumbled back a few steps, unable to believe the human before it possessed such power.

"Great! As expected of 'Warhammer' Ryan, truly living up to his name!" Lauritz exclaimed excitedly. This clash had already determined the outcome.

What did low-intelligence ghouls have? Their attacks were mainly clawing and biting, relying on brute strength and sharp claws. But if Ryan could overpower the Water Ghoul King with sheer strength, he couldn't lose!

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Cheers erupted from the soldiers and militia on the dock. The ghouls realized even their king couldn't defeat this terrifying knight, so they began to flee in all directions. The soldiers and militia knew it was time to claim their glory and rewards, rushing to kill as many fleeing ghouls as possible.

Even the Water Ghoul King realized it had no chance. Unable to defeat the knight with its greatest strength, it desperately threw its spiked club at Ryan and fled, its enormous figure comically retreating.

Ryan blocked the incoming club, slowing his advance slightly, but he was not deterred. He pulled a yellow-tipped dagger from his belt.

This was a "legacy" from his previous comrade.

My knife is coated with poison!

Ryan took careful aim, his pupils narrowing, and with a flick of his wrist, the dagger flew.

Taste my blade of justice!

The shining blade spun through the air, piercing the Water Ghoul King's right knee from behind. It collapsed, rolling a few times on the beach before struggling to get up. But by then, Ryan was already upon it.

Throwing aside his warhammer, Ryan picked up a fallen standard longsword.

The Water Ghoul King, like a cornered beast, swung its claws at Ryan, but the blade cut through without resistance, severing its forearm. Green blood sprayed, and before it could scream, the cold blade pierced its chest.

The Water Ghoul King struggled for a moment before finally going still.

"Victory!" "Victory!" "Victory!"

"We won!"

When Villard arrived with his troops, he found the battle already over. The dock was littered with ghoul corpses. Soldiers were counting the dead and cleaning up. In this skirmish with the ghouls, three dock guards had died, and a dozen were injured, two of whom lost limbs and would have to retire even if they recovered.

The militia had fewer casualties, which didn't surprise Ryan. Militiamen were useful for rallying and boosting numbers. In battle, their priority was survival, ensuring their safety before attacking. Getting them to charge or fight to the death was nearly impossible unless the battle was decisively in their favor.

Without proper leadership, militias would likely collapse at the first sign of trouble.

"You are an excellent warrior, Ryan, just like your father in his youth," Villard said, approaching with his axe. "Thank you, Ryan. Without you, many fathers and husbands would have died in this battle."

"No problem. Just remember to give me my share of the ghoul teeth. That's my due," Ryan replied with a smile, sheathing the longsword.

"Of course!" This was an unspoken rule on the continent. Those who provided key information and those who killed the enemy leader each received a share of the spoils.

Ignoring Banda, who was receiving treatment, Ryan walked over to Theresa. "Theresa? Are you alright?"

Despite the fierce battle, Ryan's clothes were undamaged, only stained with green blood. The sorceress hadn't let any ghouls get within twenty meters of her. Seeing Ryan return, she raised her pistol. "I thought you'd finish faster."

"It should have been faster. You noticed, too. These creatures are unusual. Their eyes are blood red. I sensed the power of the Blood God. The ghouls were controlled and driven to attack the dock. If it weren't for Villard's sea ban..." Ryan shivered at the thought.

"Then we would have encountered these ghouls at sea. Our ship would have been sunk, and we'd have to fight them in the water!" Theresa's reaction was quick. The thought made her scalp tingle.

Fighting ghouls in the water was a terrible idea. Humans weren't great swimmers to begin with.

"We shouldn't let Lord Villard know these ghouls might have been attracted by us. This way, we might start our journey sooner," Ryan whispered to the sorceress, who nodded in agreement. Villard and his soldiers were busy cleaning up. Ghoul teeth were alchemical materials often collected by passing spellcasters at the lord's residence. Some things were better left unsaid.

Although the Blood Axe Mercenary Group arrived first, they were the last to join the battle. Besides a few like Boris and Vilt who had killed ghouls, most mercenaries hadn't even bloodied their blades when the fight ended.

Because of this, there was a heated argument over the spoils between the militia and the mercenaries.

"Everyone fought, so why do we get so little?" a mercenary with a short knife and a longbow argued with the militia. He had short, curly blond hair, a face full of freckles, and a scar. Ignoring these, he was quite handsome.

Ryan recognized him as Simon, an ordinary ranger in the mercenary group.

"Everyone fought? You greedy mercenaries showed up last and killed a few monsters, yet you shamelessly demand a larger share! Get lost, or I'll call the soldiers!" an elderly militia member snapped impatiently.

"I personally killed a water ghoul!"

"I killed three myself!"

"In any case, this is mine. Hand it over!" The young mercenary, Simon, lunged to snatch the bag of ghoul teeth. Such a bag could fetch several dozen silver coins, a considerable sum.

"Not giving it up!" The old militia man clutched the burlap bag to his chest. Simon, desperate, tried to grab it, and the two began to wrestle.

Their struggle drew everyone's attention, and the scene fell silent.

The elderly militia member was pushed to the ground, and the bag tore open, scattering ghoul teeth everywhere.

Even Ryan and Theresa, who were discussing their next steps, were drawn to the commotion.

The sight of the fallen militia member revealed a wooden prosthetic leg protruding from beneath his cloak. As he fell, the prosthetic detached from his right leg, lying forlornly on the ground.

The elderly militia man was a disabled veteran!

Struggling on the ground, the old militia man looked at the scattered ghoul teeth, trying to get up, but with one leg missing, it was difficult. After several failed attempts, pain forced him to stop.

"Enough, even cripples go to battle? Are you trying to use that leg to claim a war injury?" a mercenary jeered.

"Yeah, old man, here's something you might need!" Simon laughed and tossed a wooden stick at the old militia man's face. "Be careful not to fall again, haha!"

"… I told you, Old Terry, you're too old for this. You shouldn't be fighting," some soldiers whispered. "He might have been a great soldier twenty years ago, but now he's just a cripple."

"You old cripple, go home and raise pigs! The pigsty is where you belong," a mercenary mocked loudly. "Feeding pigs doesn't need two legs, right, everyone?"

"Yeah, but fighting sure does!"

"Enough, enough. Old Terry is a retired veteran. Show some respect! Do you want to be mocked like this when you're old and crippled?" a soldier stepped forward, trying to defuse the situation.

"Alright, alright!" Simon gathered the ghoul teeth and threw the bag at Old Terry. "Fine, old man, take these as my charity. But remember, cripples like you should stay home and not embarrass themselves."

Old Terry silently lowered his head, gripping the sand with his fists, tears streaming down his face. He felt deeply humiliated.

When did he become so fragile? He had once been an excellent soldier.

"What will the future bards say about this?" Old Terry cried in humiliation and pain. "A veteran who lost his leg defending his home, now just a joke for these damned mercenaries? Without us, what are you people?"

"You overestimate yourself, old man. No bard will write a story about you. If you ask me, you might…" Simon started, but a strong arm grabbed his throat, lifting him like a chicken.

It was Ryan, suppressing his anger, speaking softly, "Apologize to this man. Now."

"Sir Ryan?!" Simon was stunned, unable to comprehend why the Kingdom Knight was intervening.

"Apologize. Now!"

"Sir Ryan, I—"

"Apologize immediately, or I'll crush your throat!"

"Yes... yes!!! I'm sorry!!!" Simon gasped.