Warhammer Divine Throne

Ancient Saints, Creators, whether in religious holy scriptures or historical records, all land-dwelling creatures acknowledge the Ancient Saints as the creators of this world, who created (or at least accelerated the evolution of) Elves and Dwarves; whether humans are also their creation remains unclear.

However, beyond this, there is no detailed record of the Ancient Saints in any books Laine can read, only some fragmented words. Laine has also asked many people, even deities, such as the frequently responding God of Justice.

Regrettably, it is not that they intentionally hide things from Laine, but they themselves do not know. The God of Justice is a foreign god and knows nothing about the Ancient Saints; however, he told Laine that Yurik might know something about them.

Laine knew this was not an appropriate time to ask questions, but the matter of the Ancient Saints was too important to him; it was directly related to his mission.

Suddenly, the white Divine Fire sparked with fiery bursts, falling upon Laine, scorching his skin. Laine gritted his teeth, endured the scorching pain, aware that this was the price for being slightly offensive.

Mortals under normal circumstances should not make requests to deities; this is blasphemy, sheer audacity.

Especially with the fiery-tempered Yurik, Laine was gambling.

He was confident.

First, as a White Wolf Knight, this inquiry tone was not considered as making a demand. Yurik cherished his White Wolf Knights greatly, unlikely to punish or take his life.

Secondly, he gambled that Yurik viewed him with special regard.

”Regarding the Ancient Saints, I am not very knowledgeable, but I know some things. However, boy, do you know? I hate answering people’s questions, really hate it!” Yurik said impatiently, the white Divine Fire flickered with light: ”Enough talk! Bring the head of that unclean being to my temple, then I shall pardon your offense!”

Finished speaking, the white Divine Fire completely vanished in the cold air.

Laine exhaled lightly, the plan succeeded; Yurik laid out his conditions, which Laine had to abide by. Bargaining would be courting death.

Upon thinking of this, Laine’s bracelet suddenly lit up: ”Laine, where have you all reached?”

It was Archbishop Innocen of the Nord Justice Church.

”We are now at the foot of Scavell Mountain, Archbishop.” Laine raised his wrist.

”Then you are heading to Mijordenhaven; the Justice Church’s paladin team has already arrived there ahead of you. Laine, your old friends are also here.” Archbishop Innocen’s voice remained stern: ”They will join you; anything else?”

”How is the northern warfare?”

”The Barbarians have split into three paths moving south, led by their leader Ufric the Wanderer, totaling about twenty thousand. Currently, the Nord Navy is fiercely battling the Barbarians at sea.” Archbishop Innocen stated the situation was still under control.

”That’s good.” Laine exhaled lightly.

The Northern Barbarians originally posed little threat to the south, but since Chaos descended, everything changed.

The Barbarians’ ships were directly ”created” by the Chaos Evil God, and their heavily armored full plate armor was bestowed by the God of Chaos.

When a Barbarian Warrior has gone through countless bloody battles and pleased the Evil God, he will truly degenerate into a Chaos Warrior; the Chaos Armor will directly appear upon him, requiring neither technology nor forging; it is simply unreasonable.

However, once becoming Chaos Warriors, these Barbarians can no longer live as normal people. For humans, even the bravest and most warlike individuals can find solace in the warmth of a fireplace, the embrace of a wife, and delicious food during wartime lulls. Chaos Warriors, however, cannot; once truly degenerated, coldness and slaughter will forever accompany their lives. These worldly pleasures can no longer affect them; only constant carnage and sacrifices to please the Evil God can grant them some relief—though such relief is exceedingly short-lived. They quickly lose this feeling, crazily craving the next sacrifice.

Food is no longer essential for their survival; bloodshed is.

After the logistics pressure eased, the Barbarians gathered armies southwards for raids; the northern Nord Kingdom, western parts of empire ports headed south, and the Brittania even beyond southern realms have their presence. However, due to logistical limitations (as the number of Chaos Warriors in the army is still few), lately, only the Nord Kingdom is their perennial plundering target.

The Nord Kingdom has long prepared defenses against the Barbarians, constructing substantial, sturdy fortresses in several major northern port cities for protection. Ever since the founding of the New Empire, the southern push by the Barbarians failed to gain advantage against the Empire, making them turn towards farther places like the Knight Kingdom of Brittania facing consecutive Barbarian attacks in recent years.

In the camp, all was silent; exhausted mercenaries and guards had found spots to rest, only burning bonfires and Night Watchers remained beside the fire pit conversing.

”Such cold weather, ah ah ah!” Leading were mercenaries from the Blood Axe Mercenary Corps, with Viert, Simon, and others warming themselves by the bonfire.

”No choice; Nord will be colder in the future, within one or two months, the sea and river surfaces will fully freeze; by then we’ll return to base for nights.” Viert thrust a branch into the bonfire.

The bonfire was granted by the White Wolf War God Yurik; as long as it continued burning, ordinary Chaos creations would not voluntarily approach its vicinity at night, receiving the White Wolf War God’s protection.

The Blood Axe Mercenary Corps’ base camp was positioned in a corner of Frost City. Unlike the empire with expensive land prices, Nord was vast and sparsely populated—even the Royal Capital’s land price was relatively affordable.

”Ah, I miss the times of celebrating the Winter Festival in Frost City, and Aunt Lina’s baked bread.” Simon gazed at the burning fire pit, thoughts seemingly traveled back to last year’s blissful times when a whole Blood Axe Mercenary Corps stayed in Frost City for rest, celebrating a wonderful Winter Festival.

Now with the Blood Axe Mercenary Corps’ manpower halved, even if they complete commissions and receive a large sum of money, it was tough to return happily to Frost City for New Year’s celebration. Furthermore, due to Boris’ resolute attitude, not wanting further cooperation with Jialan, Blood Axe faced inevitable suppression from the Jialan Council. These women wield significant influence in both Nord and the Empire, rendering future peaceful coexistence in Nord uncertain.

”Do you all think, we could use this opportunity to establish relations with the Imperial Royal Wizard Academy? Wizards...probably need some manpower too, right?” A mercenary corps member asked.

”You mean the Sea Heart Stone? This...” Viert furrowed his brow.

It’s indeed a choice; Mats intended to sell the Sea Heart Stone, bound to engage with the Imperial Royal Wizard Academy personnel. Blood Axe could attempt to leverage this occasion for introductions, seeking some work.

”This truly is worth trying; I’ve heard the Empire’s Alchemist Grand Mage Biersaze Gaert is seeking mercenaries to help complete a task. Moreover, we may contemplate abandoning staying in Nord altogether. If we wish to raise Blood Axe’s name...staying in Nord achieves nothing; perhaps, follow trade caravans to Marinburg?” Viert murmured.

”Master, I’m saying, the captain’s wound can’t be healed anytime soon; it’s time for you to make decisions, isn’t it?” Banda said beside the fire pit, its flames bright and warm, illuminating the Little Mercenary’s face.

As Banda finished speaking, a mercenary immediately stood up: ”Banda! What do you mean? That’s disrespect towards the captain! As long as the captain is Boris, you should not speak such words!”

”But the captain isn’t here! At this time, master is the vice captain, he should be making decisions, shouldn’t he?” Banda also stood suddenly, confronting the mercenary.

During the confrontation, Viert suddenly signaled everyone to stop.

”Wait~ what’s that sound?”

”The ground, the ground is shaking~”

”An earthquake?”

Mercenaries all stood up, and among them, the experienced Viert saw horses tethered nearby continually whinnying, sensing something amiss. He immediately shouted: ”Enemy attack! Enemy attack!!!”

Just as he finished speaking, a few robust Minotaurs emerged from shadows near the camp, wielding large axes, rushing into the camp.

”It’s Beastmen!!!”