Warhammer Divine Throne

”Th-then… all right.”

Teresa struggled for a while, then finally closed her eyes.

In her mind, countless memories flowed past in the long river of recollection like running water.

From Frost City to Kaltenhaven, from Mijordenhaven to Marinburg, from Celestial Vault Castle to Count Glamorgan, from Brunswick to Hemgart…

She could no longer keep recalling, because Laine was already gently kissing her.

A dizzy, world-spinning sensation drowned out the female sorcerer’s will.

…(omitted below)…

By the time Laine had settled everything and came out of the church, it was already noon.

Emperor Karl Franz was leading a great army encamped within Hemgart. Inside the purple-gold four-cornered command tent everything was fully arranged; whole stretches of tents covered the open space before the church and the top of the city walls.

Half-Griffin Knights and the Rick Guard ringed the Emperor’s command tent. The atmosphere in the camp was extremely tense; the soldiers were bringing water and food to the refugees, who had hastily thrown down their weapons and were burying their heads in gorging themselves.

Aside from the joy of surviving disaster, what remained was endless bleakness.

Hemgart was on the verge of annihilation. The great fire that engulfed the city had drowned out its former prosperity; less than a tenth of the hundreds of houses remained undestroyed. Everywhere lay the corpses of humans and Ratmen. The bustling market of a day ago was now gone; all the goods in the marketplace had been thoroughly looted. When the Imperial Army swept the city, all they found were bones.

Bones gnawed clean by Ratmen.

The Count’s castle had already been razed to the ground. The Skaven Ratmen had carried off everything they could from the castle; what they could not take, they destroyed. The Great Swordsmen were vainly searching for any possible descendants of the Count or surviving kin, but all they could find were corpses, and a pockmarked, riddled wall.

The slum of shacks had turned into a gigantic cesspit and stinking drainage ditch, piled with excrement and silt, as well as the dimensional stone poison belonging to the Skaven Ratmen. The merchants’ shops and the rich men’s terraces had all been destroyed. Under the army’s protection, the refugees were searching for their kin and property; cries and wails rang everywhere through the whole city.

After the search was over, the Imperial army would ”purify” this city completely—that is, raze it to the ground with fire, and only then consider whether to rebuild.

Laine walked in silence toward the Emperor’s command tent. He noticed that the two Rick Guard recruits, Rudolph and Wagner, were receiving a hero’s welcome. They were surrounded by Rick Guards in the crowd. In such a desperate situation, they had not disgraced their mission; they had not only completed the task of protecting Laine’s family, but had also, without fear, rallied the remnants and put up a stubborn resistance until reinforcements arrived. They had proven their ability. This battle was their fight for fame. Even the strictest of them all, Marshal Rick Heilberg, kept a stern face as he thumped Rudolph and Wagner hard on the shoulders twice. ”Well done!”

Rudolph and Wagner almost did not recognize Heilberg; both of them felt flattered and overwhelmed.

Imperial Captain Huber also received preferential treatment; at this moment he was the highest-ranking survivor in Hemgart.

”Lord Laine, you’re finally here. The Emperor is waiting for you in the tent.” Seeing Laine appear, Heilberg put away his look of approval and said solemnly, ”Please hurry. His Majesty has been waiting a long time. Come with me.”

”My apologies, my female courtier was wounded and poisoned.” Laine gave a brief explanation.

”That’s not important. What matters is that His Majesty has been waiting for you all this time. I have no intention of digging into why you were delayed.” Heilberg was not appreciative in the least; his expression was like a stinking stone in a cesspit. Fully armed, the Rick Marshal walked at a rapid pace. ”Please be quick.”

Laine shook his head and quickly followed Heilberg. He noticed that at Heilberg’s waist hung a Prince-Elector’s Holy Sword—the Rune Fang, ”Hater.”

Hater was once the Prince-Elector’s Holy Sword of the Sol Territory, an Imperial Province of old. But during the Three Emperors Era, the famed Green-skinned Warlord ”Ironclaw” Gobad invaded the Empire through Black Fire Pass and fought all the way to the walls of Brunswick City. At that time, Duke Adelred, Prince-Elector of Sol Territory, died in single combat against Gobad; the Prince-Elector’s crown and the Rune Fang were both taken. The Sol Territory’s army was wiped out, the entire Province razed to the ground.

Gobad was ultimately defeated beneath the walls of Brunswick City. After Sol’s line of succession was cut off, the entire Province was incorporated into the Weisen Territory, and from then on became a part of Weisen. Many years after Hater, the Rune Fang, had been lost, it was unexpectedly discovered in a Green Skin stronghold in the World’s Roof Mountain Range during a Dwarf assault, and was returned to the Empire.

From then on, the Rune Fang Hater became the symbol of Marshal Rick’s office. A Prince-Elector’s Holy Sword is not only a symbol of rank and status, but also an extremely powerful Divine Artifact. One of the crucial reasons for the eventual defeat of ”Ironclaw” Gobad back then was that Adolphus, the Brescia Prince-Elector and Duke of Avey Territory, before dying a heroic death, drove his own Rune Fang, ”Mother of Destruction,” deep into Gobad’s chest, grievously wounding this mightiest Green-skinned Warlord in history. Even for a creature like a Green Skin, the wound inflicted by a Prince-Elector’s Holy Sword took a very long time to heal. Plagued by his injuries, Gobad not only saw his strength greatly reduced, but could no longer effectively unite the Green-skinned Army, and in the end he was defeated.

(Creatures like Green Skins have almost no sense of pain, and injured limbs regenerate on their own; only the gravest injuries can cause them agony.)