The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

"Drip-drip..."

The dark basement held only the faintest candlelight, where Ryan and Targris were greeted by piles of bones and a stalactite column dripping with water. The sturdy flagstone and the iron-cast walls were filled with golden runes, numerous scriptures, and sacred seals fortifying the place.

Other than that, there was nothing else; no opulence as imagined, nor the sanctity expected. If not for seeing it with his own eyes, Ryan would have mistaken it for a typical basement rather than the legendary treasure vault of the Church of Justice filled with accumulated wealth.

"It's said that Brunswick is built on a great city atop a swamp," Ryan remarked as he felt a cold breeze through his hair, hearing water nearby. "It seems to be true."

The long staircase led deeper underground as Ryan and Targris descended slowly.

"Before it was called Brunswick, this place was known as Rictor, home to the famous tribe of Carolin, the origins of the Carolingian tribe. After the Great Cataclysm, Charlemagne led the Carolinians to rise here. At that time, Charlemagne, then known as Charles, was just a peasant's son. He grew up herding cattle, experiencing the harshness of life but always loving it," Targris shared the story of Emperor Charlemagne. "You probably know that after the Empire of Human Wizards fell during the Cataclysm, the transmission of culture was completely destroyed. Although many books were preserved, very few could read or write. In that era, when humans lived almost savagely, if a barbarian could read the first line of a book, he was considered a great scholar."

"Humanity was mostly illiterate then," Ryan interjected. "How did Charlemagne learn to read?"

"At the age of twelve, while herding cattle, Charlemagne saved a cleric attacked by a troll. This was a priest of the God of Justice, albeit a regional bishop whose powers were severely weakened because the God of Justice had 'again' fallen," Targris continued. "Charles was very young but already keenly intelligent. He had a strong desire to learn. After heroically beheading the troll, he used milk and eggs to nurse the priest back to health. Fortunately, this priest was one of the few highly educated individuals at the time. When the priest asked what he wanted in return..."

"I want to learn to read," Ryan said softly.

"Correct," Targris's face flickered in the dim light, his calm ever-present. "The priest, named Alcuin, decided to stay and repay his debt by teaching Charles and his father, Pepin, how to read and write, along with basic arithmetic."

"As a result, Charles and his father Pepin became the only members of the Carolinian tribe who could read, write, and calculate. They read all the books collected by their tribe. Warriors eagerly sent their children to be taught by them, elevating the father and son's status until a terrible war ended with the chieftain dead, and Pepin was chosen as the new leader."

"By the time Charles was fifteen, he had read almost all the books the Carolinian tribe had gathered. At that point, he happened to lead a tribal army that rescued a group of dwarves captured by orcs, among whom was the future Dwarven High King, Kurgan Ironbeard. In gratitude, Ironbeard gifted Charles the rune warhammer, Ghal Maraz, adding 'man' to his name, signifying the dwarves' recognition of humans in the Old World... and you know the rest."

"What a great story," Ryan murmured. "Such history is now lost in the sands of time, with few books left to tell those tales."

"We've arrived..." Targris did not continue, as they had reached their destination.

Their destination was a complex of tombs adorned with vivid frescoes, depicting many great battles of the Empire's history.

The human and dwarf alliance defeating the Greenskins at "The Battle of Blackfire Pass."

The human and dwarf forces against Nagash's undead army at "The Battle of the Reik River."

The first Chaos invasion fought by "The Unifier," Morkar.

"The most recent story is of Emperor Karl-Franz leading the Imperial forces to ambush and defeat the marauding tribes along the coastline of the Kingdom of Nordland." Ryan did not dwell on each fresco because there were too many, and he and Targris were not here for sightseeing.

"Clearly, humanity has always been keeping their history updated," Targris noted as he sensed the aura within

 the building complex. "This way."

"Do elves do the same?" Ryan quickly followed Targris, wielding Thor's Hammer, its pale blue electric light flickering.

Targris didn't respond; instead, he directed his gaze toward a room.

This was surprisingly the bedroom of Archbishop "The Steadfast" Vicmar-Beckman.

Unexpectedly, Vicmar's bedroom was quite austere, with just a simple bed made from ordinary mattresses, a wool blanket, a worn wardrobe, and very few personal items. The Archbishop's life seemed very simple.

On the desk, there was a cold cup of coffee and half-eaten black bread, along with a transfer order; Archbishop Vicmar seemed to be planning to summon a battle priest named Luther-Hus to headquarters.

"The Empire's most powerful Archbishop of Justice lives so modestly," Ryan said quietly. "Yet many nobles and his political enemies constantly spread rumors that Archbishop Vicmar has succumbed to Chaos, but he never deigns to refute them."

"High Elves are similar; many lords are jealous of my brother Tyrion's position, always trying to spread unfavorable rumors about him. If not for Finubar's unwavering trust in us brothers, conflict might have been inevitable." Passing through the bedroom, Ryan and Targris finally reached their intended location.

It was a storage room filled with countless treasures.

"There!" Targris's eyes finally lit up.

Ryan looked closely.

There stood a stone pedestal with a sword embedded in it, the handle made of purple and white, with a red dragon forming the guard, carved so lifelike it seemed to leap from the sword. A necklace hung on the handle, set with a dazzling platinum gem that was among the High Elves' most favored stones.

"This is the Sword of Caledor, the personal blade of Caledor II who died in the Old World. I didn't expect to find it here." Targris spoke softly. "No protective spells, just take it."

"This is it, the first shard of the Crown of Lilith. We've got it," Ryan's face broke into a smile. He hesitated briefly before reaching out and taking the platinum gem from the necklace, feeling its power in his palm.

He could feel the power of the Lady of the Lake flowing through the necklace, resonating with the "Heart of Lilith" around his neck.

"Lilith gave this to you as well? Do you know what this means?" Targris looked at the Heart of Lilith around Ryan's neck.

"What does it mean?" Ryan knew the Heart of Lilith was incredibly valuable, likely a token of affection from the Lady of the Lake.

"Elairellye gave the Heart of Avalon to Tyrion..."

"I understand." Ryan nodded, then fell silent. He picked up the necklace, thought for a moment, and motioned for Targris to take it.

"It went smoother than I expected. I thought we'd have to go to the very bottom of the underground, facing countless gatekeepers before seeing this shard, and then we'd have to defeat a powerful ancient guardian," Ryan handed the first shard of Lilith's Crown to Targris, smiling.

"That sounds like the plot of some third-rate knight's novel..." Targris frowned. "We can't get out just yet, let's check out the other collections."

"Right."

They moved on to a pedestal displaying a rusty halberd filled with filth and the corruption of Chaos. The halberd was adorned with a human skull and a full skeleton, with green light emanating from the hollow eyes. Many sacred scriptures and seals fortified it, securing it in place.

"It's the weapon of the Nurglite Champion," Ryan pointed to a "Nurgle" symbol on the halberd. "This is the 'Morning Star' of Harvester Varnir, a Nurglite champion defeated in the Great Crusade. Blessed by Nurgle, this chieftain, supposed to have died, was reborn after suffering complete bodily decay and escaped the battle. We only captured his weapon... I didn't expect it to be stored here."

"Can't it be destroyed?"

"No, it's a blessing from Nurgle. It can only be sealed, not destroyed," Targris shook his head.

"Now it can."

Ryan placed the cursed weapon on the ground.

Thor's Hammer came down hard: "Thud!"

The halberd broke under the impact, the blessings of Nurgle on its shaft completely shattered by Ryan's psychic powers. Deprived of Nurgle's blessing, the weapon quickly turned to dust before Ryan and Targris.

In the subspace, Nurgle's Garden:

"Ah!!!" Nurgle, who was busy stewing in his large pot, suddenly felt a pain in his rear, shouted loudly, and tried to scratch it but found his hands couldn't reach.

"Annoying... what the, what the heck, must be, must

 be Tzeentch's, conspiracy." Nurgle roared but couldn't pinpoint the source. He muttered to himself and went back to his cooking: "Alright, let me continue."

Ryan and Targris continued to explore the storeroom, encountering several artifacts from the Great Crusade and the Vampire Wars, as well as from the provinces of the Empire and gifts from the dwarves. Unquestionably, many of these artifacts were incredibly precious and also very dangerous.

"Blue Beloved." Ryan approached a display case that held a pair of blue rune pistols, double-barreled and marked with the symbol of the vampire family Lanius.

This was a relic of a Lanius family vampire.

"Rune pistols, magically fortified and transformed by vampires," Targris noted as he observed the weapons. He knew Ryan had an idea: "Can you purify it?"

"I think I can, and I think Teresa will like this gift," Ryan took the rune pistols from the display case.

The room was engulfed in a pale blue psychic light.

When Ryan put away the rune pistols, the Lanius family emblem on them had changed to the Grey Knights' symbol of a skull pierced by a sword.

After inspecting a few more items, Ryan's eyes lit up again: "I can purify this one too!"

A purple staff embedded with a powerful fire gem was sealed on a high pedestal. The mighty magic contained within could elevate Veronica's mastery of magic to a new level.

"The staff of Yndyntee, captured from a Champion of Slaanesh," Targris recited.

This staff, too, was purified by Ryan, the Champion of the Lady of the Lake, and Targris did not think to stop him.

Veronica's gift was secured.

They were about to continue when footsteps sounded outside the room.

"Vicmar is coming! We need to hide!"

Archbishop Vicmar entered the underground of the Sanctum of Relics looking grumpy, holding his golden staff of command and griffon war hammer, cursing as he approached. He first hung the staff on the wall of his bedroom, then headed to the archives.

Ryan and Targris hid in a corner: "It seems the commotion outside has ended. We should get out."

"How? There are guards everywhere," Targris whispered. "My spells won't work within the Sanctum."

"Don't we have a pass?" Ryan said calmly.

"A pass?"

"Right in front of us." Ryan's gaze mischievously settled on Archbishop Vicmar.

Vicmar was irate today. To think that heretics had truly infiltrated the Church of Justice and caused chaos in such a sacred place enraged the Archbishop. The heretics were killed on the spot in the cathedral, and the battle priests used divine magic to bind a Tzeentch cultist for brutal interrogation.

The results were shocking. A noble family in Brunswick had completely turned to Chaos, planning an assassination of the emperor. A small Tzeentch cult had developed a group of over a hundred members in the city's northern docks' slums. Vicmar immediately sent word to Emperor Karl-Franz and dispatched hordes of witch hunters and battle priests to eradicate the Tzeentch cult.

The infiltration of Chaos deeply pained Vicmar, who knew that while the Empire's armies were strong, they could only protect themselves and were unlikely to defeat the Chaos in the north. Thus, he had come to the basement of the Sanctum to continue perusing the forbidden books and scrolls.

Vicmar was painfully aware that only within these books and scrolls might he find the true nature of Chaos and how to eradicate evil, and only under the repression of countless holy relics and the power of the God of Justice could he safely study this knowledge.

Just as he turned a page, Vicmar suddenly felt something was amiss, a prickling sensation on his back—his body's instinctive alert.

His hand, which had just turned the page, immediately grabbed the war hammer on the table, power of the Twin-Tailed Comet surging.

"Who's there?!"

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