The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

At this moment, Count Dulin and Count Larot were both sitting in a booth on the first floor of the Grail Praise, enjoying the famous red wine Latour brought in from Winford. Both counts were already in their fifties and sixties. They were not Grail Knights, but both had participated in the Grail Quest and were legendary powerhouses, representing the old Mousillon nobles from the southern region of Lyonesse.

After complex negotiations, the newly appointed Duke of Lyonesse, Adalhard, agreed to cede the old territory of Mousillon in exchange for a sum of 10,000 gold crowns, assistance in suppressing rebellion, and food support. The cession contract was now set in stone, and the two Mousillon nobles hurried to Gene to meet the true Duke of Mousillon, Ryan Malcador, to discuss the merger.

With Ryan holding the most legitimate claim to Mousillon, these old Mousillon nobles naturally believed they should belong under his rule. The predicament facing Lyonesse was now well known in the Old World, and these nobles, having preserved a bit of their strength, did not want to get involved in the turmoil. It was quite normal for them to come.

Unfortunately, upon their arrival at the ducal castle, they were rebuffed. Duke Ryan was said to be meeting them in the evening, only to be postponed to the next day by a mere maid—a clear sign of disdain. The two counts had no choice but to retire to an inn in the city. Feeling restless in their rooms, they came to the famous tavern Grail Praise for a drink and to discuss their current predicament.

Count Dulin, with chiseled features, was a battle-hardened knight. Over his sixty-year life, he had experienced many wars, including the Red Eye Egil's invasion of Lyonesse, where his army suffered heavy casualties. This led him to refuse any further calls to arms from the Duke of Lyonesse, despite Duke Aldred's repeated pleas.

In contrast, Count Larot appeared more refined with his wavy brown hair, perfumed scent, small eyes, and large nose. His shirt cuffs even had lace trim. However, underestimating him as a non-combatant would be a mistake. His ornate knight sword had also tasted the blood of enemies during the Red Eye Egil's invasion and the subsequent suppression of serf revolts, having slain beastmen chiefs and green-skinned brutes.

Unlike the Empire, Bretonnia's great nobles had all seen battle.

"Why do you think the Duke won't see us?" Count Dulin said, frustrated. "We came with full sincerity, yet we haven't even seen the Duke, his steward Carsonberg, or even the maid captain Sylvia!"

In Ryan's absence, Sylvia and Carsonberg usually managed the territory. To get things done or see Duchess Sulia, one had to find these two, a well-known rule.

"Is the Duke in the castle?" Count Larot was also puzzled.

"Our sources confirm he is." Count Dulin nodded.

"Then it's clear. The sudden change is the new Duke giving us a taste of bitterness," Count Larot said, helplessly nibbling on snacks. "You know, Dulin, we chose the wrong side."

Speaking of this, even the battle-hardened Count Dulin could only sigh. 

They had believed in Marcellus, thinking he was the true Duke of Mousillon, leading them to follow him in his northern campaign. Marcellus was indeed confirmed as the illegitimate son of the kingdom's regent, Lawn, giving him a weak claim.

But both counts knew that even without Marcellus, their relationship with Lyonesse was strained. After the Red Eye Egil invasion, the northern Lyonesse nobles shifted their losses onto them, plundering and occupying their estates. It wasn't surprising that the old Mousillon nobles, feeling marginalized, would make such a choice.

However, these were no excuses for siding with Marcellus the traitor. Despite switching sides at the sight of the Lady's unblemished light before Couronne, their betrayal was still unforgivable, making them feel inferior and guilty before Ryan.

"So what now? Meet him tomorrow?" Count Dulin felt a headache. "I feel something is off."

"The key is that Duke Ryan is surrounded by those Winford people!" Count Larot also whispered discontentedly. "I'm worried..."

"Count Dulin, Count Larot!" A cold, stern female voice interrupted their whispers. The two counts shivered and looked up. "Sylvia?!"

The maid captain here?

"Ryan is upstairs. He invites you up for a talk." Sylvia's face was stern and cold, making the two counts very uneasy. Unknown to them, her displeasure stemmed from their date being interrupted, ruining a subtle, special moment.

Soon, Dulin and Larot were seated across from Ryan. Sylvia wanted to stand by Ryan to serve, but he pulled her to sit beside him. "Bonsoir! Welcome to Gene, gentlemen from Lyonesse."

"Greetings, my Duke!" The two counts saluted in knightly fashion, quite surprised to meet Ryan in a tavern. "We didn't expect to meet you here."

"Something came up tonight, needing time to handle. I felt it wrong to keep you waiting too long, so I postponed it to tomorrow. Apologies for the poor hospitality."

"No, no! Duke Ryan is busy. We came on short notice," Dulin quickly said, unsure of Ryan's intentions and emphasizing, "As the rightful heir of Landuin, you are our liege. We come to pledge our allegiance and present our grievances."

"Allegiance? That comes after the cession agreement with Adalhard. Let's talk grievances first, which is why you're here, right?"

Dulin and Larot exchanged glances, and Count Larot spoke first. "We old Mousillon nobles want to know what you expect from us and how you plan to rule these lands."

"It's simple. I have three main requirements," Ryan said calmly. "You can choose to accept or not, but bear the consequences."

"Please, go on."

"First, tariffs must be unified in my domain. I have a list, and any taxes beyond it must be abolished. I also require all to switch from tithe to fixed tax, which I will audit. Can you do that?" Ryan raised a finger.

"Yes!" This didn't surprise the counts. They knew of Ryan's reforms and chose to support them, despite some immediate losses. They had no power to resist and hoped for similar changes in their own lands.

"Second, regarding vassals, my requirement is no inter-vassal wars. Disputes should go to the ducal court. Vassals must contribute a small portion of their income to the ducal treasury annually. For treason and blasphemy, I can revoke all titles and lands without compensation. Other crimes will be discussed with the kingdom's court and Lady Morgiana. Severe offenders can lose their noble status." Ryan raised a second finger.

Sylvia was quite surprised by Ryan.

What was he doing? Challenging the unwritten rule that nobles were always nobles!

The counts were hesitant, unsure what to say.

"No rush for decisions now," Ryan said. This was a big challenge to existing noble privileges, shaking the very foundation of Bretonnian nobility.

But as he said, he had the power and status. He was a Holy Grail Knight and the Lady's chosen champion! With the prestige of saving the nation and restoring Mousillon, now was the best time to establish new rules.

If Zhao Kuangyin had won big at Gaoliang River and the Yongxi Northern Expedition, reclaiming Yanyun, he could have used his supreme prestige to counter the overgrown civil officials. But he didn't.

If not now, then when?

The counts looked grim. They had expected the first condition but found the second hard to accept.

Noble knights were accustomed to their status. In the feudal system, no matter how hard a serf worked, they could never become knights. A knight, regardless of his downfall, remained noble. History had rare cases of knights losing their status, but there had been fewer than ten knight assemblies for such reasons in a thousand years. The fact was, knight status was nearly unshakable and irrevocable. A knight could be executed, but even in death, they retained their nobility.

Counts Dulin and Larot immediately requested time to discuss.

Ryan quietly leaned back, waiting for their response. He could give them time—a day, two days, a month. But if it took too long, he would move on. Many aspired to be counts, and he didn't lack candidates.

"My Duke, one question," Count Dulin bit his lip. "Are these rules only for us old Mousillon nobles, or for all your vassals and future kingdom knights equally?"

"Everyone equally," Ryan's voice was cold.

"Then... we agree!" Surprisingly, the old Mousillon noble representatives decided immediately. "Please tell us the third point!"

"Third, vassal military. As my vassals, upon my call, you must leave only a garrison and a small mobile force. All other troops must join me, under my command. I have the right to appoint military commanders. Even if a commander's rank is lower or equal, you must obey their orders. Can you do that?" Ryan was a bit surprised by their quick agreement and tried to keep his expression calm.

"Yes." Having accepted the previous conditions, this one posed no further objections.

"Good." Ryan nodded, the first step of the reform taken. "You can inform all local nobles. Those who accept these three points are welcomed to pledge allegiance. Those who don't can continue as Lyonesse knights,

 but ceded lands belong to Mousillon, and they must find new fiefs."

Ryan sneered, "If some nobles claim the land yet refuse allegiance or leave, identifying as Mousillon yet not Lyonesse, that'll be interesting. Bretonnia has only these duchies. If they don't want to be Lyonesse or Mousillon, they might as well not be Bretonnians at all!"

"What do you think of my proposal?" The Duke's blue eyes bore into the nobles, his youthful face contrasted by his sharp, sword-like gaze, making the veteran knights shiver.

"Some nobles are just confused, thinking this an opportunity for more autonomy. We will surely persuade them to pledge to you," Count Larot gulped and hurriedly said. "The stubborn ones are few. We, old Mousillon nobles, certainly follow you."

"Wanting rights without duties, craving freedom, I'll grant it." Ryan nodded. "I always respect personal will... Now, it's your turn to make requests."

"We need your support to quell internal rebellion," Count Dulin eagerly said. "And food aid. We hope you can send troops to help control the rebellious areas soon."

"Sure, I'll send a regiment of old guards, two serf infantry regiments, and a dwarf artillery unit to support you," Ryan agreed. "After quelling the rebellion, join forces to support Lyonesse!"

"Yes!"

After discussing details, the counts left, feeling both relieved and burdened. They would return to their lands and convey Ryan's will.

After they left, Ryan relaxed from his duke demeanor, noticing Sylvia still looking fearful. He smiled. "What's wrong, Sylvie? Scared?"

"Just a bit... fearful," Sylvia's face was pale. "You seemed unlike Lady's husband."

"There's a difference between home and outside." Ryan laughed, leaning back. "Now, the date continues!"

"Huh? Continue?" Sylvia's face flushed. "Shouldn't we head back?"

"No, we continue." Ryan nodded, smiling mischievously. "There's a performance in town tonight!"

"A famous clown artist, Percival Waters, is performing his act. Let's go see it!"

"Remember the guards!"

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