The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

That night, the caravan camped in the valley.

The guards and mercenaries were bustling about, their spirits higher than the previous day. Ryan guessed this was due to the successful battle earlier; most mercenaries had likely reaped some rewards from the goblins.

In contrast, the merchants were less enthusiastic. On the way down, a wagon had overturned during a wolf attack, spilling barrels of black fire oil. Mats quickly calculated his loss to be over a hundred gold dinars.

The night sky was dotted with stars. In the distance, the forest-covered Skavell Mountain revealed a glimpse of its mysteries—the wild, overgrown forest and the white bones by the road told tales of terrible past events.

"Move quickly!" The guards were unloading cargo. A large wooden crate was being lifted off a wagon with the help of two people.

"Ouch!" The day's fatigue made the guards clumsy, and the crate fell to the ground, spilling some of its contents.

The stones that fell out were a mix of sea-blue crystals and rough rock, clearly unrefined magical ores.

"Seastone?" Theresa, leaning on her staff, approached. After resting for half a day, she looked much better. "Mr. Oliver? Is this your cargo?"

"Oh dear! What are you doing? Clumsy fools, quickly pick that up!" Mats hurried over, gesturing for the guards to clean up the mess. Then, with an embarrassed smile, he said, "This... this is my cargo, Ms. Trovik."

"What's going on, Mr. Mats? Our Garland has issued multiple proclamations in the Nord King's court, stating that we are willing to buy any seastone at high prices. Why is there still seastone in your cargo?" Seeing the ore in the crate, Theresa's expression changed visibly. Seastone is a highly precious magical mineral, essential for making many magical items. It also has the ability to help wizards' descendants awaken their magical talents. In critical moments, spellcasters can even draw energy from it to restore their magic.

"This... I..." Mats looked around awkwardly, noticing everyone in the caravan was watching him. He stammered, unable to find the right words.

Seeing this, Ryan stepped in to smooth things over. "Alright, Theresa, merchants have the freedom to sell to whomever they please, don't they? The Kingdom of Nord doesn't have laws explicitly prohibiting the export of such goods. After all, if these exports were banned, the king might have trouble funding the military, right?"

"But seastone is so precious. We at Garland also urgently need this magical mineral. We've already offered such high prices..."

"But the Imperial Royal Mage Academy is willing to pay even more, isn't that right?" Ryan interrupted Theresa, then smiled at Mats. "Am I correct, Mr. Mats?"

"...Yes."

"It seems we've been too lenient with you merchants. It's time to..." The sorceress was about to lose her temper, but a sharp pain in her abdomen reminded her of her condition. Seeing this, Ryan stepped forward and lifted the sorceress into his arms. "Alright, alright! Don't get angry. You can't change this, just inform Ms. Aurora later!"

With that, Ryan didn't give the sorceress a chance to speak and quickly carried her away. Surprisingly, the sorceress didn't resist, letting him carry her, which saved him a lot of trouble.

7:30 PM.

Lifting the tent flap, Ryan saw Emilia coming out with a basin of hot water, her face blank. Ryan stepped aside to let her pass and then asked, "Feeling better?"

"Much better. And don't you know that you should knock before entering a lady's tent at night?" The sorceress half-lay on the padded cushions, her mood clearly sour.

"...Sorry. Well, get some rest. Goodnight!" Ryan sighed, nodded, and left.

The tent fell silent again.

The sorceress thought Ryan was sulking, but he truly didn't return. After waiting for a long time without seeing him, a strong sense of disappointment welled up inside her.

Inside the tent, matters were left unspoken. Ryan informed the caravan and went to a nearby clearing alone. He took out the divine scroll he had bought in Ulan Town, the zero-level cantrip Light Spell, and fell into thought.

Unrolling the scroll, Ryan traced the energy patterns and symbols with his psychic energy, then raised his hand. "Light Spell!"

A small ball of light shot from Ryan's hand, illuminating the cold, dark surroundings. About ten meters away, the light ball suddenly vanished without warning.

"This isn't like a normal divine spell. A regular Light Spell would travel at least twenty meters before gradually fading, but my simulated spell only goes ten meters." Ryan thought aloud. "Is it because of the divine power?"

"Let's try this next." Ryan took out a magic scroll. This scroll had cost him quite a bit, as it contained a first-level spell—Magic Missile.

Magic scrolls are rarer than divine scrolls, and like other magical items, making them is incredibly challenging. Only high-level wizards know how to craft them. To complete a scroll, they must painstakingly copy the mystical spell patterns onto parchment and transcribe the necessary incantations.

Wizards then infuse the scroll with magic, a task requiring great skill. Too much magic, and the scroll might explode or activate prematurely, especially with destructive spells. Too little, and the spell might not activate at all.

A third-level wizard can only craft first-level scrolls, a sixth-level legendary wizard can make up to fourth-level scrolls, and so on. Notably, to use a magic scroll, the user must possess some magical talent and be able to read the text, making these scrolls even more exclusive.

"Magic Missile, a first-level evocation spell, shoots three energy missiles at a target. It's a basic spell every wizard apprentice can learn." Ryan muttered.

The principle of this spell is simple: condense magic into energy missiles aimed at a target. Ryan quickly analyzed the spell with his psychic energy and replicated it. "Magic Missile!"

As he expected, his psychic energy could simulate the spell, but the range was limited. The missiles dissipated after about ten meters, despite a normal spell's range of fifty meters.

"So, simulated spells can't extend more than ten meters from my body." Ryan recalled his father's teachings in his dreams. "Psychic energy, immensely powerful, yet a source of corruption. Use it wisely."

"Then, how about this?" Ryan gathered his psychic energy into his hand, spreading his fingers. The energy formed silver-white lines, illuminating the dark forest. Under the intense psychic glow, the corrupted trees underwent a transformation. The black Chaos energy dissipated, and new branches and leaves grew.

No, it wasn't that the black Chaos energy dissipated.

Ryan's psychic energy had completely obliterated it!

But soon, the intense psychic light not only drove away the Chaos energy but also burned the newly healed trees to charcoal.

The smell of charred wood filled Ryan's nostrils, making him feel uneasy.

"Excess is just as bad. My psychic energy can purify corruption, but it is inherently a destructive force. I need to practice controlling it. Perhaps this is the trial my father intended." Ryan nodded, preparing to leave when a sudden gale blew from the depths of the forest.

White holy fire appeared in the forest again, swirling in the wind. Ryan's eyes widened, and he instinctively knelt on one knee. "My lord!"

In the dead of winter, white flames signaled the will of the White Wolf God, Ulric!

The holy fire did not materialize. It hovered above and then slowly entered Ryan's mind.

"Boy, we meet again." The white flame spoke in Ryan's mind.

"I offer you my respect, great wolf god. White Wolf Knight Ryan listens to your teachings!" Ryan's face was filled with both surprise and joy. It was well known that Ulric rarely responded to prayers, delivered prophecies, or descended into the mortal world. His only known descent was during the first Chaos invasion, when he personally fought against Chaos.

Since then, the wolf god had not sent an avatar into the mortal plane, treating his followers with relative indifference. He rarely responded to the prayers of the weak, except for his beloved White Wolf Knights' Grandmaster and the High Priest of the White Wolf Church.

After Emperor Charlemagne killed the Chaos Chosen One Morkar and repelled the Chaos army, Ulric blessed Charlemagne and his empire, demanding a "worthy" temple be built in the north of the empire. The Empire had no reason to refuse, given that the wolf god had personally fought against the Chaos army. Thus, one of the world's most magnificent temples, the White Wolf Temple, was built on a cliff in the northern province of Middenheim. Over the centuries, humanity built one of the most prominent cities in the mortal realm, White Wolf City, around it.

"You are Ryan, that bald Norman's adopted son? I must say, you look nothing like him." Ulric's first words left Ryan stunned. "Next time, tell your foster father to stop praying to me to regrow his hair. That's something he should ask Shallya for, not me."

Shallya, the goddess of mercy and healing.

All Ryan could do was smile awkwardly and express his compliance. "Understood, I will heed your command, my lord."

"Alright! I didn't send my avatar just to talk about that. Boy, your previous offering indicates that there's a major Chaos creature in these mountains. Go, bring me its head. That would be the best Winter's End gift for me." The white flame began to fade, and Ryan hurriedly spoke up. "I... I encountered some puzzling things."

"Speak!" The white flame wavered.

"...Understood." Ryan lowered his head, indicating he understood, and then hesitated before speaking. "I've heard that my great lord possesses long life and vast experience. Do you know anything about... the Old Ones?"

"You know about the Old Ones? I thought after thousands of years, only the long-ears and a few bookworms remembered them." Ulric's tone wavered for the first time.

...

...

"Boom!" A heavy battle axe cleaved through an entire tree, splitting the trunk in half. Thorns and branches shattered instantly. The giant minotaur's every step made the ground tremble. Its face was obscured by a white skull, making its expression unreadable, but its mouth and nostrils emitted thick mist. "Huff... kill!"

"Spirit of the Forest!" Eldrad swung his staff, and the nearby trees transformed under the green light, rising to charge at the minotaur.

The giant minotaur moved without the slightest hesitation, striding towards Eldrad. A treant rushed from the left, but the minotaur didn't even glance at it, its battle axe slicing the treant in two. Eldrad's summoned treants couldn't halt its advance.

Every step of the minotaur's heavy hooves made Eldrad feel a crushing pressure.

A minotaur?

No, minotaurs are highly emotional creatures, but this one remained calm.

Then, a great horned bull of the highest level?

"If that's the case..." Eldrad planted his staff firmly into the ground and took a deep breath. His already tattered clothing strained as his body transformed. Hair appeared on his wrinkled skin, his nose elongated, his hands turned into claws, and his body expanded. In a few seconds, he had taken on the form of a bear.

Druids' magic lacks powerful offensive spells, so Eldrad decided to fight with his claws and teeth.

As Eldrad was about to fully transform into a bear, the giant minotaur's mouth twisted into a peculiar smile. Filthy energy gathered around it, as if it would devour everything.

"Barbaric Charge!" The skill activated, and in the blink of an eye, the giant minotaur covered nearly fifty meters. The magical barrier created by Eldrad's staff crumbled like paper. The giant shadow loomed over the still-transforming Eldrad.

The battle axe swept across, leaving a deep, bone-revealing wound on the druid's chest, stretching from his right waist to his left shoulder. Blood poured from Eldrad's chest as he was sent flying dozens of meters. Fortunately, the remaining treants swarmed the beastman, temporarily binding its limbs.

"Uh, uh..." Eldrad's beastly form quickly receded, reverting to his human appearance. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest. The pain nearly took his breath away, his wrinkled face contorted further, blood pooling on the ground. Eldrad didn't hesitate to crush a green gem, clutching his chest and crawling backward.

The giant minotaur laughed maniacally, blood-red liquid dripping from its mouth, filthy energy glowing brighter. It slowly approached Eldrad.

Gasping, Eldrad watched the minotaur's slow, deliberate approach, each step like the tolling of a death knell.

"You... you are... Doomsday..."