Warhammer Divine Throne

The production of the Crown of Lilith is incredibly intricate, with materials to be gathered by Tygris and Alaros.

After the topic was discussed, Alaros wanted to ask if he could stay the night, but was told he couldn’t. He then pleaded with Tygris and Laine to leave him alone with his goddess for a while.

This left Tygris and Laine looking rather upset, one with a green face, the other with a blue face.

”He’s already lost sight of us, and he can’t hear what we have to say. To him, the Lady is everything,” Laine sighed, continuing, ”This might be beneficial for our plans in the short term, but if it continues like this in the long run...”

”You’re worried he might make some excessive demands on Lilith?” Tygris understood Laine’s concern, leaning on his magic staff as he slowly turned, ”... Indeed, it’s quite possible.”

Both quickly reached a consensus that Alaros is just a sycophant. This famous Wood Elf hero is indifferent to world threats and the Moment of Destruction; he’s willing to join them only because of Lilith the Lake Fairy.

For him, he’s willing to give anything for his beloved goddess.

”I seem to recall... Alaros already has a partner, doesn’t he?” Laine asked curiously while Alaros had yet to emerge.

”He has two daughters,” Tygris replied calmly. ”Actually... if obtaining Alaros’ assistance requires Lilith to sacrifice something, it’s acceptable, all for preventing the Moment of Destruction.”

Laine frowned at these words.

Tygris implied that if they could secure Alaros’ help, he wouldn’t mind his goddess offering herself to Alaros because it’s worth it.

Tygris is such a person. Unlike his brother Prince Terion’s zeal and sentimentality, Tygris has always been the epitome of rationality. For him, achieving his goals justifies many sacrifices. He might feel guilty but never regrets it.

”You seem to disagree with my view?” Tygris noticed Laine’s furrowed brow and asked proactively.

”A matter like this, once it starts, it won’t stop,” Laine said gravely. ”Whether the Lady is willing or not is beside the point. Do you think Alaros, having succeeded, would still have the drive to risk his life? All he wants is his goddess! He doesn’t care about the outside world at all!”

”What you say makes sense, but I think you’re just jealous,” Tygris maintained his calm demeanor, glancing sideways at Laine with his fish-dead gaze. ”You’re biased.”

”I’m not!” Laine immediately retorted.

”You are,” Tygris didn’t press further, nodding lightly. ”But I also acknowledge your point of view. Earlier, I overlooked that aspect; from Alaros’ actions, he’s to be used well, but not heavily relied upon.”

Tygris meant that many trivial and cumbersome matters could be entrusted to Alaros, which he would handle well, but never the most important ones. Alaros lacks reason; he is a brave warrior and mighty hero who prefers solving issues with his long spear and bow, not his mind.

While the two were discussing, Alaros emerged, looking somewhat dejected. ”She still rejected me.”

”Lord Alaros?” Laine was curious about what had transpired between Alaros and the Lake Fairy inside.

”It all felt like a dream, only to end in emptiness. Since I refused her in the forest, the outcome was sealed,” Alaros, still somewhat listless, was barely holding it together, the champion chosen by Queen Airel. ”I’m sorry, I need some alone time.”

”Please,” Tygris motioned for Alaros to feel free, and as he watched the Wood Elf hero leave in haste, the Supreme Grandmaster remarked bluntly, ”Clearly, a failed proposal example.”

”Did you expect this?” Laine’s tone changed, knowing all along the Lake Fairy was destined to give Alaros no further chances.

”Certainly,” Tygris looked meaningfully at Laine. ”I know Lilith has chosen a new future partner, but more importantly...”

”More importantly?”

”More importantly, sycophants end up with nothing.”

”Are you talking about yourself?”

”... Come here, Laine, I have something to show you.”

”I refuse!”

......

The wedding day was fast approaching, and the grand nobles from Brittania and the Empire, alongside emissaries from the Dwarves, Wood Elves, and High Elves were arriving. Laine’s wedding would be an unprecedented spectacle, unmatched by any assembly but the Emperor of the Empire’s coronation.

The wedding venue had been prepared weeks in advance, with Holy Grail Knights of the Holy Grail Knight Order and Lake God Prophets of the Saintess Order arranging both inside and out of the Lake Fairy Cathedral thoroughly. Mounds of barley, wheat, oat flour, oats, soybeans, and peas were stockpiled for the feast, and hundreds of livestock awaited slaughter. Additionally, Lake God Witch Mogiana had opened her storerooms, releasing a bounty of sugar, honey, cheese, and butter, while Francois contributed his stock, shipping cask after cask of Winford’s finest wine to the Lake Fairy Cathedral.

Brittania seemingly hoped to dispel the Chaos Invasion shadows from earlier in the year with the grand wedding, further elevating Laine’s standing in the country, rendering him unrivaled for the time being. Even the Lords were now treating their peasants more kindly during this period.

The Marchioness Surya would not marry alone. She would bring with her an entire Servant Corps and over a dozen Guardian Knights, numbering nearly two hundred people in total, from servants to maidens, chefs to stewards and guards. The lady knight would possess her own independent establishment from Laine, including her two villages within the Winford Duchy’s territories, which would remain under her control.

These people had no ties with Laine; just because Surya married him did not mean they became his subordinates. Everything was delineated clearly; the Servant Corps was accountable only to the Marchioness, unrelated to the Count. The two villages would provide taxes solely to the Marchioness, with funds bypassing Laine, managed by the Marchioness Surya’s steward and court maiden official.

Two days before the grand wedding, the final, most crucial guests finally arrived at Count Glamorgan’s domain.

Late autumn, Charon Forest, Angerong’s forest cottage.

Five beams of colorful light descended from the sky.

The Primarch of the World-Devourer already stood waiting: ”Brothers, you’re fashionably late; it’s just two days before Laine’s wedding.”

”Angerong...” An extremely cold voice assessed the bright-shining Dwarf Secret Silver Plate Armor of the man standing there. ”You’re here at last... two days until Laine’s grand wedding.”

With several wounds recently bandaged, Angerong stood there, his bright, reflecting armor showcasing his scars.

A twisted, withered voice muttered, ”Trai...tor...”

”You made it through! Brother! Angerong, have you fully reverted to your original self?!” a voice filled with enthusiasm and inspiration called out.

Clad in blue masterwork power armor, the Primarch Kiliman of the Ultimate Warrior, Roboute Kiliman, stood there, his expression ambiguous. ”And you have changed back completely, Angerong. Magnus, what’s that thing on your neck?”

Wearing all yellow power armor, Magnus replied, without hesitation: ”A bloodthirsty great demon, here to disrupt Laine’s wedding, and newly discarded by Khorne, who hangs his blazing trophy at that cottage door.”

Near the forest cottage lay the remains of a Great Demon of Khorne, its head displayed gruesomely near the cabin door, its body cleaved into several pieces.

Inside its cramped walls, Alaros stands prepared, the Primarch of the World-Devourer, having eagerly awaited the procession of his brethren: ”Brothers, you finally are late!”

An extremely cold voice observed Angerong, who was waiting: ”Traitor...” it muttered dryly.

”We are here! My brother Kiliman! It seems you have completely reverted to your shining self, Angerong?!” A voice full of passion and inspiration boomed from an Ultimate Warrior armored figure.

”Switch... in whose hands?” Angerong burst into laughter.

”In Zhuangsen’s,” Roboute Kiliman, the Primarch of the Ultimate Warrior, replied.

A Bloodthirsty Great Demon under Khorne had come to disrupt Laine’s wedding, only to find its head mounted above the forest cottage’s doorway, its bull-like face, complete with four horns, still dripping blood, and its body lying in pieces beside the cottage.