The Norscans were in full retreat. Their reckless charge had obliterated their cavalry, and only now was the first skin wolf warband reaching the shore, only to be immediately forced back by Bretonnian artillery fire. The Norscan World Wanderers were trapped in the narrow confines of Chantilon, bombarded relentlessly, unable to break free and deploy.
Without unified command, the Norscans were doomed. Champions of each Chaos God could only command their own followers and treated the worshipers of other gods with distrust and hatred. Cooperation was minimal at best.
Meanwhile, their leader, Ulfric the Wanderer, was locked in a prolonged duel with Carad, utterly absorbed in the fight. The battle between them had raged for over four hours. Ulfric seemed oblivious to his army's collapse, reveling in the thrill of combat: "Fighting you is exhilarating, Knight King!"
Carad remained silent, focusing on the duel. Moving with the speed and precision of a phantom, he deftly parried Ulfric's brutal strikes. Sparks and bursts of flame erupted as their weapons clashed, leaving the ground beneath them battered and scorched.
"Keep me entertained!" Ulfric taunted with manic glee.
The exertion was immense; even Carad, a Saint Grail Knight, felt the toll. He sensed fatigue—a sensation unknown since drinking from the Grail—and his body was now aglow with pure golden flames, the light of the Lady of the Lake surrounding him.
Ulfric, too, had transformed. Surrounded by an aura of saltwater, snow, and bloodlust, he now towered at over eight feet. Fragments of fallen warriors' souls clung to him, feeding his strength. Horrified, Carad noted the twisted energy binding those souls to Ulfric: "Enslaving souls to bolster your power? That's a vile blasphemy."
"It seems we've only been warming up, Knight King!" Ulfric sneered, his twisted features contorted with savage anticipation.
The two champions locked eyes and roared in unison, "To the death!"
Golden and shadowy blue energy collided, incinerating everything in a ten-meter radius.
"I love this! This is what a duel should feel like!" Ulfric bellowed with satisfaction, lost in his bloodthirsty ecstasy.
Amid this titanic struggle, Regent Lauen and the Coronian army arrived on the battlefield. Lauen assessed the duel momentarily but then turned his attention to the larger battle raging in Chantilon.
Behind him, a line of Saint Grail Knights, along with a detachment of royal knights and questing knights, rallied in response to Lauen's call. The Knights of Corona assembled, ready to charge under their lord's banner.
Lauen raised his sword of Corona high: "Knights of Bretonnia!"
"We are here!" the knights roared back.
"Support Carad's forces! Defend our homes, protect the land given to us by the Lady!"
A thunderous charge swept across the battlefield, the sound of hooves pounding the earth as Bretonnian knights surged forward, forming a wall of steel. Even as Edjik, Tzeentch's Chosen, attempted to reform his forces with a wall of spears, Bretonnia's coordinated advance tore through their formation, the knights breaking the Norscan lines with lance and sword.
Meanwhile, the Green Knight led the regrouped Errant Knights in a renewed charge, their vigor restored as they fought to redeem their honor.
The Norscan forces fell into disarray. Enraged, Edjik summoned a torrent of blue fire that engulfed three errant knights and one kingdom knight, transforming them into writhing blobs of pink flesh. He attempted to unleash his ultimate alchemical spell, calling forth torrents of molten metal to sweep over the Bretonnian forces.
But he met resistance from the Lady's chosen. Three Damsels joined their power, casting The Lady's Radiance, dispersing Edjik's spell. Though he managed to slay several knights, his power was now significantly reduced.
Desperate, Edjik watched as his forces crumbled. Surrounded, his bodyguard obliterated, the Champion of Tzeentch lashed out with his daemon weapon, channeling Chaos energies as he sliced through Bretonnian knights. But soon, he found himself marked by the three Damsels, their spells illuminating him with a clear, green light.
Attempting to fend off the growing assault, Edjik deflected a spell only to be impaled by a gleaming lance—a blow delivered by a Saint Grail Knight. In a fury, Edjik hurled the knight from his mount. Yet before he could recover, a blade wreathed in green fire pierced his chest.
It was the Pain of Penitence, wielded by the Green Knight himself. The sword's power disrupted the winds of chaos within Edjik, shattering his defenses. Edjik fell to his knees, gasping: "You… you are…"
The Green Knight dismounted, silent and imposing, his gaze fixed on the fallen Champion. Behind him, the battlefield was littered with the bodies of Norscan marauders, trampled underfoot.
"Fool…" Edjik coughed, struggling to rise. "You have won nothing, mortal. We are but the beginning. The End Times shall come. Your kind will be erased from history. No one can stand against the Four—"
"Not today," the Green Knight said coldly. With a swift strike, he severed Edjik's head. "Bretonnia will endure as long as one of its sons remains."
Yet even decapitated, Edjik's head sprouted wings and talons, transforming into a monstrous creature that tried to flee.
It didn't get far. Regent Lauen's sword of Corona met it mid-flight, slicing through Edjik's skull. The holy power of the Lady's blessing incinerated his spirit, his eyes' blue flames sputtering out into nothingness.
The Norscan army crumbled.
Near the duel, Carad struck another mighty blow with Durandal, finally shattering Ulfric's shield. The Wanderer staggered, blood pouring from a wound in his leg as Carad stood over him.
"Your army has fallen, and you shall meet the same fate."
Ulfric chuckled, defiant even in defeat. "Perhaps. But I have my mission yet, Knight King. And though you have bested me today, I will return. I swear it."
"Do you still think you can escape?" Carad replied, sneering as he drove Durandal into Ulfric's side and kicked him backward.
Ulfric grinned through the pain, raising a hand to the sky.
With a deafening roar, his massive dragonship, Hag's Tooth, descended on a wind of Chaos, casting down a rope. Ulfric grabbed hold, rising up and out of reach.
"What? A flying ship?" Carad stared in astonishment.
But Chaos cared little for reason. As Hag's Tooth soared away, Carad lowered his sword, watching the Norscans flee in disarray.
With Lauen, the Green Knight, and the combined might of Bretonnia's knights, the Norscan army was forced into a full retreat, leaving over eight thousand dead on the field. The remaining dragonships retreated as well, carrying away their last survivors.
Ulfric the Wanderer was wounded, and Edjik, Tzeentch's Champion, lay slain.
Victory belonged to Bretonnia.
"Victory! Victory! Victory!" The triumphant cheer of knights and soldiers echoed across the battlefield. Though Bretonnia had lost about two thousand men—many due to the disastrous first cavalry charge—the battle was theirs.
Carad raised his fist high: "Hope lives on, my brothers! As long as warriors like you stand by us, Bretonnia shall never bow to darkness. We will never stop until all Chaos is defeated!"
Cheers erupted across the battlefield, knights roaring with pride and resolve.
Surveying the field littered with the remnants of their victory, Lauen approached Carad. "Well done, Carad. You held out until we arrived."
"This is just the beginning," Carad replied, breathing heavily. "We may have vanquished a portion of their force, but many still remain. At best, we've destroyed a quarter or a third of their army."
Lauen's expression grew serious as he sheathed his sword. "You're right. This was only the start. We must send word to the King immediately, requesting reinforcements."
"This isn't just a raid—it's the first wave of a full invasion."
"We must prepare Bretonnia for all-out war."
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