In the smoke-filled, besieged town of Borovska, the appearance of Manfred von Carstein brought despair to almost everyone's faces. In fact, the elves had long been aware of the undead, especially the Tomb Kings and vampires. When Nagash was still a high priest of Nehekhara, he had captured several Dark Elf sorceresses, tortured them, and forced them to teach him magic. Using dark magic as a foundation, he eventually developed necromancy.
However, the humans of the Old World were different. Long before the reign of Emperor Karl Franz, there had been traces of vampire activity, but humans stubbornly refused to believe in their existence, adhering to the principle of "not spreading rumors." Even when Karl Franz himself defeated Nagash, most people still believed he was merely a powerful sorcerer.
It wasn't until the late era of the Three Emperors, after the Vampire Wars had raged for over a century, that the people of the Old World finally realized that vampires and necromancers were not mere legends.
Yet, even then, nearly half of the Old World's population, particularly the ignorant and backward serfs, as well as those in southern regions like Estalia, Tilea, and the western parts of the Empire where undead sightings were rare, still refused to believe in vampires. They thought these vampires were merely powerful "rebel nobles" who had been demonized for opposing the ruling class. They believed these vampires were champions of democracy and heroes of justice!
But the figure before them, riding a zombie dragon, with gray skin, clad in black cursed armor, and with white eyes devoid of eyebrows, bore no resemblance to any democratic champion or hero of justice. The humans hiding in their rooms were terrified, some even collapsing in fear, crying out, "Please, don't kill me!"
"Manfred von Carstein, the last Vampire Count, the most cunning and treacherous of the three Vampire Counts, what brings you here?" Alarielle's bright green eyes gazed at Manfred as he descended from the sky. The Everqueen's clear, melodious voice rang out as she attempted to negotiate her way out, or at least buy some time.
"Deep within the World's Edge Mountains lies a place called Nagashizzar. My dear Alarielle, I, along with the von Carstein family, have united with the Lahmian, Blood Dragon, and Necrarch families. Together, we extend an invitation to you to visit Nagashizzar. We will prepare the grandest feast and the most elaborate welcome ceremony for your arrival," Manfred said with a courteous bow.
"I appreciate your sincerity, Lord Manfred, but I have already made arrangements with the High King of Everpeak," Alarielle replied with impeccable grace. "The von Carstein family is noble and elegant, and under the leadership of Vlad von Carstein, it has flourished. I believe you, like him, will understand and accept our proposal. Once we conclude our visit to Everpeak, we will certainly consider your invitation. What do you think?"
"Does the Asur consider the name von Carstein so insignificant?" Manfred asked with feigned sincerity. "Not worthy of comparison to the dwarfs of Everpeak? That truly shames me, the head of the von Carstein family. It seems I must personally escort you to Nagashizzar."
"Alarielle has never looked down upon your family. It is simply that the invitation from Everpeak came first. This is all a misunderstanding, and it seems we lack proper communication. I promise you, Lord Manfred, that once I conclude my visit to Everpeak, the Asur will sit down with you to discuss these matters."
"My lady, it seems I have not made myself clear," Manfred said with a smile. "You may not have the privilege of visiting Everpeak after all."
As soon as Manfred finished speaking, the dwarf envoy, Dorin Ironhelm, a kinsman of High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer, was beheaded by Krell with a single swing of his axe. The dwarf's blood spilled across the ground.
Alarielle clenched her teeth, her face pale.
Manfred was not just killing; he was breaking their spirit.
The Everqueen knew the dwarfs well. Even if the Asur managed to escape today, if all the dwarfs perished, the conditions for future negotiations between the high elves and dwarfs would never be the same.
Manfred laughed heartily. "My lady, since you refuse, I must apologize for what comes next."
The undead army advanced, with Krell nearly unstoppable. Alarielle watched in anguish as the sisters of Avelorn, carefully chosen by her mother, Alarielle, fell one by one to Krell's axe. The high elf forces were gradually overwhelmed by the undead, and her own kin were resurrected to fight against her.
"My lady, we must break through!" shouted Yvraine, the Everqueen's handmaiden, urgently. "We can die, but you must not fall into enemy hands. We must seek reinforcements!"
"It's too late," Alarielle said calmly. "We did not call for aid when the greenskins and beastmen attacked. Now, it's too late... but perhaps there is still a chance."
As soon as she finished speaking, Alarielle was enveloped in a shower of white and green light.
Her clear voice rose in song across the battlefield.
It was the famous high elf war hymn, The Phoenix Banner Never Falls.
"Oh, have you seen, through the dawn's early light,"
"What we hailed, with cheers so bright?"
"Whose banner, through the night's fierce fight,"
"Still waves proudly, standing tall and bright?"
"The teachings of Aenarion, we hold dear,"
"Dragons soar, magic thunders near,"
"They witness the Phoenix Banner, ever clear,"
"In this land of the free, home of the brave,"
"Forever it waves~"
The song spread across the battlefield, and to their astonishment, all the high elves found themselves lifted into the air!
A great high elf spell, Tread the Clouds!
The remaining hundred or so high elves ascended into the sky. Alarielle, pale-faced, raised her staff and pointed. "Asur, break through to the west! Retreat to the Sea Gate!"
"Yes!" the elves shouted in unison. Prince Tyrion led the cavalry in an aerial charge, breaking through the swarm of Blood Knights and clearing a path for the elves.
The remaining dwarfs watched in anger and despair as the pointy-ears fled, leaving them to be overwhelmed by the undead and slaughtered by Krell.
The thousand-strong dwarf army sent by High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer was wiped out, with no survivors.
Alarielle silently whispered an apology.
The high elf envoy group flew westward at full speed, nearly breaking through the encirclement.
Manfred was caught off guard by the elves' maneuver. If the high elves broke through, all would be lost!
Fortunately, he was not alone.
The Lich King, Arkhan the Black, appeared on the other side. He raised his staff and slammed it into the ground, unleashing two powerful spells.
"Wind of Death!"
"Purple Sun of Xereus!"
The high elves flying in the air were struck by the spells, falling to their deaths one after another.
"Today, not a single elf shall escape," Arkhan said coldly, his voice echoing with soulfire. "The Lord of Undeath must be resurrected, or our undead kingdom will fall."
The powerful spells swept across the battlefield. Alarielle's magic was no match for Arkhan's, and the high elves fell from the sky.
Only two great eagles remained airborne.
Arkhan noticed the eagles and cast another spell.
"Curse of Years!"
One eagle was struck, rapidly aging into a skeleton. The other seemed doomed as well.
At that moment, Prince Tyrion of Caledor stepped forward. He leapt into the air, shielding the eagle with his body. The Curse of Years struck his chest, and within seconds, the prince aged into an old man.
"For Caledor!" With his dying breath, Tyrion looked at the soaring eagle, his usual arrogance replaced by a smile. "For Ulthuan."
The eagle escaped, flying toward the Sea Gate.
Meanwhile, Alarielle sat on the ground, trembling with fear. The Everqueen watched as the undead closed in from all sides. She swallowed hard. All the high elves had been slain.
Manfred approached her, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up. "My lady, do you believe in my sincerity now?"
"Asuryan curse you!" Alarielle said coldly. "The Asur will hear of this. You'll pay, Manfred."
"Hmph!" Manfred snorted. The Vampire Count suddenly smiled and clapped his hands. Dozens of foul-smelling, dripping zombies approached. "It seems our lady needs to learn a lesson before she'll keep her mouth shut."
"What... what are you doing?" Alarielle's face turned pale. She instinctively tried to back away, but Manfred grabbed her leg, clad in white, gold-embroidered stockings. "I'm simply curious about the differences between elven and human anatomy. And how the Everqueen's body differs from that of a common elf."
"No! Stop! Please, no!!!" Alarielle was terrified. A grotesque, slobbering zombie leaned in, its tongue lolling as it tried to lick her face. The Everqueen burst into tears.
"Enough, Manfred," Arkhan finally intervened. "The task is complete. We must hurry and take her to Nagashizzar."
"Mmhmm!" Alarielle struggled.
Tomb Guards brought golden chains, binding her wrists and ankles behind her back. They blindfolded her, gagged her, and placed her on an undead chariot.
"Mmmph!" Alarielle, bound and blindfolded, could only struggle helplessly.
The capture was successful.
Now, it was time to prepare the sacrificial ritual and deal with the high elves' inevitable rescue attempt. The high elves would not sit idly by while their Everqueen was taken.
Thinking of this, Manfred couldn't help but laugh.
As the saying goes, fighting against heaven brings endless joy, fighting against earth brings endless joy, and fighting against people brings endless joy!
---
Meanwhile, on the Isle of Albion, King Ryan and his knightly army were oblivious to the events unfolding thousands of miles away.
Instead, Ryan sat atop the walls, with Olica standing behind him, serving tea.
The rain continued to pour on Albion.
The siege had lasted nearly three weeks.
During this time, the knightly army had repelled three attempts by the defenders of Castle Carcassonne to break through.
Ryan realized that this was reminiscent of Caesar's legendary siege of Alesia in the Gallic Wars. A double wall, besieging the besiegers?
In truth, it wasn't quite the same. Unlike Caesar, Ryan had an additional advantage: hundreds of cannons and two thousand rifles.
Due to limited ammunition, Ryan ordered the cannons not to waste shots on the sturdy walls of Castle Carcassonne. This gave the defenders hope for a breakout. After several days of siege, with their food supplies dwindling, Harold, who had lost his courage and his manhood, ordered a cavalry charge.
Hundreds of cavalry were instantly mowed down by a volley of gunfire and crossbow bolts.
Harold was too terrified to attempt another breakout.
A few days later, Egrimm van Horstmann, the Champion of Tzeentch, after studying the siege walls, found a weak point. With food supplies nearly exhausted, Egrimm decided to lead his forces in a breakout.
Under a hail of arrows and gunfire, Egrimm and his Tzeentchian warriors reached the walls, only to be met by Veronica's Luminark, which burned through his shoulder armor. The Tzeentchian warriors then clashed with five Grey Knight recruits led by Bedivere. Magic proved ineffective, and in close combat, the Tzeentchians were outmatched. Egrimm was forced to retreat.
The siege continued.
With food supplies nearly depleted, the barbarians, who had never been good at stockpiling food, began to turn on each other. Cannibalism broke out among the militia and civilians, and the defenders descended into chaos.
Egrimm then proposed a ruthless plan. Ryan, the so-called paragon of knightly virtues, and Bretonnia, the land of chivalry, would surely balk at harming civilians. Egrimm ordered the expulsion of roughly 20,000 elderly, sick, women, and children from the castle, hoping to either break the knightly army's lines, deplete their supplies, or at least burden them with guilt.
Egrimm was mistaken.
King Ryan coldly ordered the slaughter of all barbarian civilians. These were enemies, regardless of age or gender. Against followers of Chaos, there was no room for mercy or chivalry.
"Only the Lady can grant forgiveness. Anyone who questions my decision can join her now."
"Exterminate the wicked!"
Egrimm's plan failed. The 20,000 barbarian civilians were either shot by arrows or starved to death between the walls of Castle Carcassonne and the knightly army's siege lines.
This severely demoralized the defenders.
But then, the skies above Albion began to churn, and the earth trembled under the thunderous hooves of approaching cavalry.
The Chaos reinforcements had arrived.
Now, Ryan knew.
The real battle was about to begin!
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