In the initial chaos, hundreds of cavalry and over a thousand infantry managed to flee alongside Tsarina Katarin. Most were Boyar nobles, Ice Witches, Ice Guard, and several dashing Ice Palace Guardsmen.
But on a chaotic battlefield, infantry couldn't match the speed of cavalry, and they scattered, desperately fleeing. Chaos riders pursued, their roars growing louder, but Sigvald the Prince of Slaanesh had only one target in sight: the Tsarina's sled. Raising his sword, Sigvald sneered, "There is but one prize, the Tsarina herself! My palace has been starving too long!"
The sled careened forward, Katarin fiercely steering the reindeer with her own hands as the Chaos cavalry and their vile calls closed in. She cracked the reins, urging the animals onward.
Behind, war cries and the sound of lashing hooves grew louder. Merciless Chaos riders threw javelins and axes. Although poorly aimed, the weapons added to the terror of the chase, whistling past and lodging into the snow.
As the reindeer surged ahead, Katarin saw the bodies of her soldiers scattered across the bloodied snowfields, her kingdom brought to ruin. Yet she drove on, her heart heavy but resolved. "Faster! Faster!" she shouted.
Now less than a hundred meters away, a wave of Slaaneshi marauders with swinging axes and gleeful jeers pursued the sled. Among them was Sigvald himself, along with two companies of Slaaneshi mounted knights, grinning madly as they closed the gap.
"Take her alive! The Dark Prince demands it!" Sigvald taunted, grabbing a spear from a follower and flinging it. The weapon sailed through the air, piercing the top of Katarin's sled before striking her driver.
The driver fell dead, leaving Katarin to seize the reins herself. The shrill laughter of her pursuers echoed behind her as she urged the sled onward, deftly avoiding the grasping hands and tossed ropes of the Chaos marauders.
As they galloped further from the battlefield, her retinue dwindled under the relentless assault. Ice Witches and guards fell, ensnared by ropes, dragged from their mounts, or felled by axes.
At last, only a few dozen of her Ice Palace Guard rode alongside her. Among them was her loyal captain, Alexei, his face ashen with fear yet unwavering. "My Tsarina, we are with you!" he cried.
Katarin, relieved yet frustrated by her guard's lack of firepower, snapped, "You carry muskets on your backs—use them!"
"Empty, my Tsarina!" he called, holding up his gun. "Your Kremlin Guard believed us only worthy of blank rounds!"
"Fire them anyway!" Katarin shouted in desperation, her eyes widening at the bloody chase behind them.
Yet, despite their loyalty, her men could not keep up. The boyars and Ice Witches veered away to scatter, while only a handful of guards rode on with her.
Just ahead lay Zedvika—hope flickered in her heart. She urged her sled forward, hoping for reinforcements in the town, enough to hold off the Chaos forces and give her a chance to escape.
But Zedvika was no sanctuary. As she drew closer, Katarin's heart sank. The town had fallen to Nurgle's forces, and twisted, bloated bodies decorated the walls. Festus, Nurgle's chosen champion, was busy chanting a foul incantation, turning the entire town square into a festering pit of corpses.
"Turn around! Avoid Zedvika!" Katarin commanded, her guards attempting to pivot. But Sigvald's voice rang out again as he closed in.
"Don't run, dear Tsarina! My palace awaits with the finest of pleasures!" Sigvald sang, throwing his head back with laughter.
Katarin fought the terror welling up inside her as Festus's spells sent plumes of green energy exploding across the snow, leaving trails of filth and sickness in their wake.
The Ice Witches and guards beside her fell one by one, overtaken by Sigvald's knights or smothered by Nurgle's spells. Desperation pushed Katarin to her limit. As night fell, she miraculously kept just ahead of her pursuers, her sled carving tracks through the frozen plains. Her reindeer, exhausted but relentless, plowed on.
Finally, only a handful of Ice Palace Guards remained. Captain Alexei, breathless, shouted, "Tsarina! Our horses can't go on any longer!"
"Then fight! Prove your loyalty!" she ordered.
The guard pulled their blades, halting their mounts to make a final stand. But as Sigvald's knights charged, they scattered, panic overtaking them. The knights cut through them mercilessly.
Meanwhile, Katarin and her sled reached the banks of the Lynsk River, where the ice was thick enough to attempt a crossing. Her heart raced as she urged the sled onto the frozen surface.
Alexei limped behind, his horse collapsing, as he cried out, "Tsarina, let me join you on the sled!"
"Stay back and delay them!" she shouted, her voice breaking. She raised her sword and, in a moment of frenzied panic, severed the hand he extended toward her sled.
Captain Alexei, shocked and betrayed, was left alone, swiftly overtaken by Sigvald and his men. His cries faded as Katarin forged on across the icy river.
Katarin cast a final spell—a wall of ice surged up behind her, briefly blocking her pursuers. Sigvald, caught off guard, slammed into it, his nose bloodied. He growled in anger but soon gave up the chase as night fell, murmuring with a twisted smile, "I'll catch up to her at Kislev…"
With that, Sigvald and his remaining knights turned back, leaving Katarin to flee into the night.
Five days and nights of frantic flight later, a battered Katarin and her worn sled finally reached the gates of Kislev. Her once-proud reindeer had died of exhaustion, and in their place were three weary mules she had commandeered from a supply line. Her sled had become a mere shadow of its former glory.
As she entered Kislev, the city was in the midst of a grand celebration, unaware of the crushing defeat that had befallen their armies. A procession in honor of their supposed victory in Zedvika filled the streets, a premature commemoration inspired by Katarin's last orders before her retreat.
Katarin knew it was futile to muster more soldiers for another campaign against Chaos. Shaken and traumatized, she had lost her will to fight.
Back at her palace, Katarin issued two edicts.
First, she announced her intention to lead her people southward in a strategic "migration," urging all citizens to flee before Chaos's inevitable advance.
Second, she ordered the execution of General Pavlov of the Plague City defenses and Bear Cavalry Marshal Rokossovsky, citing incompetence and cowardice. The head of her secret police hesitated to carry out her command, but under her insistence, the orders were dispatched.
After hastily packing her belongings, Katarin left Kislev with her court for the Empire's southern borders, marking the end of Kislev's last stand.
What followed was a massive exodus of refugees fleeing south to the Empire.
—— Meanwhile, far to the west... ——
As Katarin's forces lay decimated, a different scene unfolded in Mousillon, where Ryan the Knight-King had not yet learned of the battle's outcome. On a peaceful autumn day, he prepared to picnic with his family on a cliff overlooking the sea.
The breeze carried a hint of salt and the call of seagulls as Ryan stretched, letting out a yawn. The ancient intuition that had served him so often flickered, warning him of events far beyond the horizon.
"Hmm… feels like something big is happening somewhere," he muttered, resting on the cliffside.
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