The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

"Ahem, now that everyone is here, let's get down to business." Oliver gestured for his guards, Fak and Masse, to clear the food from the table. A circle of parchment was spread out on the table. "The lord refused to send troops, but after hearing we are friends of Mr. Ryan, he gave us this."

"A map?" Boris, the leader of the Blood Axe Mercenary Group, arrived, as did the deputy leader, Vert. Due to Banda's severe injuries, Vert looked worried.

"Exactly." In the light of candles and oil lamps, the group sat around, listening to Oliver's introduction.

"We have twenty-three wagons and over a hundred guards. The druid 'Tree Planter' Eldrad from the Church of Nature will travel with us. With Mr. Ryan and Miss Theresa, both legendary-level powerhouses, our safety should be assured."

Oliver unfolded the entire map, placing it on the round table, pointing out the route from Karlzenhaven to Myotenhaven. Ryan glanced at it, noting the two mountains they had to pass and potential threats like bandits, goblin tribes, and other monsters. The map highlighted a beastman tribe, causing the convoy to take a considerable detour.

"We continue with Bilger and his wanderers scouting ahead. If there's any situation, they will report back to us immediately." The small, cloaked middle-aged man raised his hand. Ryan nodded slightly.

"Boris's mercenary group and our guards will walk on the outer layer of the convoy. If enemies approach, they will be the first to engage." Oliver added. The mercenary leader raised his large axe. "Let those bastards come! I'll chop them to pieces!"

"Miss Theresa and Mr. Aestel will be in the middle of the convoy. Mr. Aestel will use his keen vision to monitor nearby movements and provide protection with his bow. Miss Theresa will also support us. The rear will be guarded by several wandering knights riding with us, providing additional protection."

"Very comprehensive plan, very detailed action scheme." Ryan approved of the plan, pointing to the front of the convoy sketch. "I'll ride at the front, ready to respond to any..."

"No, Mr. Ryan, you should stay with us! It's safer this way, isn't it?" Oliver quickly added. Ryan's eyes flickered, and he smiled. "That works too."

"Let me continue." Matz took over.

"The first day, we plan to reach the foot of Hordaland Mountain..." Matz's finger moved slowly over the map, detailing the schedule. "The third and fourth days are challenging. On the third day, we will ascend Scareveil Mountain. There's an abandoned fortress in the valley, possibly occupied by bandits or goblins. To pass safely, we might need to launch a frontal attack or give a small gift to the fortress occupants." Matz scratched his golden beard, causing the half-elf ranger to complain, "A small gift? Constant concessions will only breed more greed."

"I agree with Aestel. We have no reason to yield to a rabble. If necessary, I'll show my strength to ensure safe passage. What's the challenge on the fourth day?" Ryan supported the half-elf's stance. Appeasement only led to worse outcomes.

"On the fourth day, we'll enter a dense forest in the latter part of Scareveil Mountain. Reports indicate beastmen roam this area. We've designed the route to avoid them, but who knows if we'll encounter them on a mountain path?" Oliver pointed to a black-marked spot on the map. "The guard captain, Lauritz, told us several knights have disappeared after setting out to exterminate the beastmen. We need to be especially cautious here."

The sorceress furrowed her brows. Beastmen included very powerful entities, and they were tough, resistant to magic. If several knights couldn't handle the beastmen, could Ryan?

Now, they could only trust him.

Hearing the name of beastmen, mercenaries and guards alike hesitated, faces showing fear and reluctance. Beastmen were notorious across the continent, their savagery legendary. Only the Bretonnian knight kingdom, through the sacrifices of several generations of knight kings, had cleared beastmen from within its borders, though they still lurked in ancient forests.

The Empire and Bretonnia regularly purged beastman tribes. Without these purges, the beastmen would overrun the land in a few years. However, even the Empire's mightiest forces rarely ventured deep into the forests, where endless ambushes and harassment, coupled with fragile supply lines, would often cause armies to disintegrate without a fight.

Having recently battled a beastman tribe in the Mien Forest, the Blood Axe Mercenary Group was particularly apprehensive. Boris still shuddered at the memory of that fight.

This was the biggest challenge on the route, plunging everyone around the table into silence. The flickering candle flames danced as the basic plan was set. Finally, Oliver broke the silence. "Mr. Ryan, we might stay another day here to recruit more companions, including wandering knights willing to join us, to improve our chances of success."

"Those people are not entirely trustworthy, Oliver. Make sure you discern who can travel with us and who cannot." Ryan frowned, observing the noisy environment in the longhouse. Cups clinked, beer foam floated in the air, people reveled. The wandering knight Eck was bragging to a group of soldiers, "Have you ever heard of Bugman's beer? Wow, just thinking about it makes me drunk~"

Wandering knights, also known as rogue knights or scoundrel knights, often posed a local security threat while seeking regular positions, engaging in robbery and banditry.

"I understand!" Oliver agreed readily. As a merchant, he had his own plans. Ryan couldn't say much more. In some ways, he did need Oliver to organize a caravan. The sorceress's body hadn't fully recovered, and setting out rashly was unwise.

With the general plan set, Ryan relaxed, joining in the banquet's revelry, eating and drinking to his heart's content until he felt a tug on his shirt.

"Huh? Theresa?"

"Want to leave?" Ryan noticed her impatience and led her away from the table. "Tired? Want to leave early?"

"How long will this banquet last?" The sorceress indeed felt weary.

"Probably until morning... Should I escort you out?" These rural banquets often lasted until morning. With limited entertainment after dark, only wealthy nobles could afford magical lighting. Oil lamps weren't much better, so people turned to banquets for nighttime fun, often reveling until dawn.

"Why don't you leave with me? Or are you planning to satisfy your ugly desires with some woman?" Theresa stood before him, her face full of disdain.

Ryan blushed. He had indeed planned a rendezvous with a widow, unbeknownst to Theresa. "Well, if you insist."

"Then let's go!" The sorceress unceremoniously grabbed his collar. Ryan apologized to the lord, "Sorry, I have to leave."

"Hahaha! Go ahead, no need to stay with us old folks!" Villard laughed, beer foam flying from his beard. He turned to his courtiers, "I heard Garon's women like to find a demon hunter after the banquet... why did this one change her taste?"

"Hahaha! Maybe she likes this one! Ryan's definitely better than those bloody demon hunters. Such a handsome young man!" A few officers joined in.

"Or maybe they just have a good relationship."

Amidst the speculation, Ryan and Theresa left the longhouse together. It was late at night, the sky dotted with stars, the air frigid. Ryan shivered, sobering up a bit. "Why did you pull me out suddenly?"

"I hate their gazes. Men always stare at me... at various parts of me." The sorceress stomped, her thin heels leaving imprints in the mud. "It's disgusting, especially that wandering knight Eck. His eyes were glued to my legs!"

"My eyes are always on your legs too. Beautiful things are meant to be admired, aren't they?" Ryan teased, navigating the dark environment with his psychic senses.

"... I know you like stockings. Remember the banquet when we met for the second time?"

"I... I remember." Ryan had a bad feeling.

"My mother and I were seated nearby. Halfway through the banquet, she went outside to discuss matters with Harald…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Dear Theresa, please don't bring that up!" Ryan pleaded, hands clasped in apology, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

"Humph! Then you know what you should do." The sorceress's face was also a bit red, but in the darkness, neither could see the other. They walked in the vague direction of their destination.

"What should I do?" Ryan looked embarrassed. He had done something inappropriate in his youth, and now the sorceress had caught him.

"By the way, I saw Vert looking worried when he spoke to you, then he seemed relieved. What did he say?" Ryan changed the topic, genuinely curious.

"Vert asked if we'd face another tough battle like before. If so, he'd consider terminating our contract," the sorceress said nonchalantly.

"How did you respond?" Ryan suspected as much; the task was too dangerous for a mercenary leader to accept.

"I told him we wouldn't. Belt has set sail, so we shouldn't face such battles again, right?"

"If only things were that simple..." Ryan frowned. The sorceress had a point, but he felt uneasy.

"Ryan."

"Hmm?"

"Be my partner, okay

?"

"Emmm... you want a partner and not a... (whispers)?"

"Ryan!!!"

The night in Karlzenhaven was far from quiet.

The ocean roared with waves.

A narrow strait separated the Nord Kingdom and the Northern Wastelands. The sea between them was called the Chaos Sea, where countless bodies lay buried after centuries of war between humans and northern barbarians.

The western seaport of the Nord Kingdom faced the Dark Sea, notorious for raids by Dark Elf pirates. Whenever their black-sailed ships appeared on the horizon, it spelled doom for merchant vessels.

In the dark night, a fast ship sped along the route.

"Faster, faster! Don't worry about pirates or sea monsters! Faster!" A middle-aged man stood at the bow, wearing a tall hat and high collar, his voice deep and hoarse.

"We're already at full sail, sir!" A sailor retorted, frustrated. This employer never seemed to sleep, constantly urging them to speed up.

The sailors were exhausted, many working over sixteen hours a day.

"Enough, shut up. You'll be rewarded for this trip!" The first mate shoved the protesting sailor aside. "After this run, everyone gets turkey!"

The sailors dispersed, grumbling.

The middle-aged man watched them return to their posts, his scimitar slowly sheathing.

He couldn't wait to offer blood and glory to his new master.

The first mate sensed something amiss, keeping other sailors from approaching him. This deterred the man from indulging in a quick kill.

Ah, such powerful strength.

After revealing the weaknesses of the northern fortresses to his terrible master, he was richly rewarded. Years of stagnation shattered effortlessly under his master's power.

Despite his body's worsening changes—redder skin, growing horns, gray veins covering his flesh, and burgeoning claws—he enjoyed it.

Everything he saw was tinged with the color of blood, the hue of life. The Blood God didn't care about the source of blood, only that his followers relished it, vying for supremacy.

Belt swore he was ready.

"Now, let's give those pursuing scum a taste of real power!"

The fallen hunter's crimson eyes glowed ominously.

He had connected with a terrifying being.