Chapter 47: The Imperial Council

Late at night on the mountaintop, the mountain wind howled, and the boundless Milky Way sparkled in the sky. Ryan elegantly finished his wine in one gulp, let out a satisfied belch, and then gently patted his warhorse. "Handir, are you full?"

The elven warhorse nodded heavily, still licking the bottom of its bowl and snorting at Ryan.

"It's complimenting your cooking~ hahaha~" Ryan meticulously helped his warhorse groom its mane, laughing. "Handir rarely praises anything. By the way, where's your warhorse?"

"I let a comrade ride it so they could escape." Ryan looked at the numerous gaps and damages on his chainmail, thinking that it might be hard to repair. He needed a new set of armor.

"A warhorse is half a knight's life. Are you willing to entrust your life to someone else?" Ryan immediately realized how dangerous the situation had been for those humans at the time.

"Isn't that part of a knight's vow? To protect the country, the territory, and loved ones." Ryan couldn't say it was because he had been distracted by staying with the garrison, so he changed the topic.

"Exactly… Nowadays, knights rarely have such awareness. To them, the Lady's teachings are not as important as their lives and prospects. The virtues of knights from the past have become shackles that hinder their pursuit of wealth and status." Ryan was diverted by Ryan's words and thoughtfully continued. "Do you know about the battle of Marienburg a few months ago? The war between the Empire and Bretonnia?"

"I know a bit, heard that… in the end, you negotiated with the Empire?" Ryan thought since Ryan brought it up, he could inquire more about it.

"Negotiated? Ha, it was a negotiation. It looked nice on the surface, but do you know? Bretonnia lost." Ryan shook his head, a bit of disdain showing on his face. "A completely failed war from start to finish. If the Emperor of the Empire hadn't spared us some face, who knows if Richard could have kept his throne."

"Could you explain in detail?" Ryan was intrigued.

The man in front of him was a high noble of Bretonnia and belonged to one of the three most prestigious families. These families' bloodlines could be traced back to the founding knight king, Arthur. The three families were "The Leaping Lion," "The Red Dragon," and "The Pure White Pegasus," from which most knight kings hailed.

But let's hear what this noble has to say.

"Upon receiving an invitation from Duke Schultz of Marienburg, our knight king 'Old Tiger' Richard, tempted by five cartloads of gold, decided to lead the army. Along went many wandering knights and rangers, as well as infantry and archers formed by serfs." Ryan shook his head, looking into the distance. "Apart from this, few dukes responded or even refused to respond."

Ryan laughed. "Do you know? Lord Antri only sent four rangers and fourteen soldiers, and an army of about fifty peasants to answer the call, not a single knight."

"Ha~ that's expected. Duke Winford frequently trades with the Empire and Marienburg. He surely wouldn't want to strain relations with the Empire." Ryan immediately caught the hidden meaning. "And sending no knights makes the message quite clear."

"So, the war wasn't necessary. The true knights didn't come, and those young hotheads eager for glory knew nothing. They thought the Imperial army was the same as the peasant uprisings they usually suppressed." Ryan didn't seem to notice the undertone in Ryan's words. "As you know, what was meant to be a mere standoff turned into a war because a bunch of glory-hungry youngsters rushed into the Imperial army."

Ryan nodded, understanding. The noble saw the core reason behind the kingdom's military action: it was meant to be a show of force, but due to various reasons, it turned into a war—an unnecessary and self-damaging outcome, a failed beginning.

"The front and rear of the army were severely out of sync. When the knights rushed the Imperial pike formation, the longbowmen hadn't even entered range. Without enough knights to command, what do those serf infantry know? Chaos ensued." Ryan sighed. "Before King Richard could order a reformation, Emperor Karl Franz of the Empire had already seized the opportunity and led his Reiksguard in a charge, routing the disordered Bretonnian army."

Ryan understood this as a failed process. Most knights charged into the Imperial formation, struggling against the prepared pikes, inevitably bogging down. Once the cavalry were stuck in a pike formation's prolonged engagement, the battle became unsalvageable.

"And the subsequent treaty…"

While the two knights, both named Lion, were deep in conversation.

The Imperial capital, Altdorf.

Majestic statues surrounded the golden and resplendent palace. Statues of Emperor Charlemagne and his twelve Carolingian knights stood guard around the palace. Charlemagne's statue held a sword in one hand and a book in the other, looking forward naturally.

On the fifty-meter-tall palace gates, every corner was engraved with ancient historical reliefs, from Charlemagne's uprising to the "War of the Long Beards" that cemented the human-dwarf alliance, to the Battle of Black Fire Pass against the greenskin hordes, to the Reik River battle against Nagash, the necromancer lord, and finally, the first Chaos invasion with Charlemagne wielding the Holy Sword against Morkar, the Uniter.

The Emperor of the Human Empire, Karl Franz Friedrich, was writing in his study.

"Bretonnia may have lost at Marienburg, but that was because their main force didn't participate. Regardless, they are our fellow humans. I hope our knightly friends do not become our enemies—not even the possibility." The Emperor wrote with a quill on parchment. "The Empire is vast, friends few, surrounded by enemies. In such circumstances, the Empire must unite its rare allies as much as possible. The power of the Grail Knights is essential."

"The Elector Counts tried to undermine me since my young ascension, hoping I'd relinquish power. However, after victories like the Battle of Bloodpine Woods and various suppressions, this victory against the knightly kingdom has finally earned me their temporary trust."

While Karl Franz was still writing, an attendant announced a visitor. A close attendant walked in. "Your Majesty, General Heinrich has arrived."

"Let him in." The Emperor, appearing in his thirties, raised his head. His voice was deep and powerful, his demeanor commanding, and his appearance handsome and vigorous, like the morning sun.

"Yes!"

Shortly after, fully armed Count Heinrich von Plauen entered the Emperor's study, kneeling on one knee. "Your Majesty, the Elector Counts have arrived for the Imperial Council."

Hearing "Elector Counts," the Emperor's fingers trembled slightly.

"Understood, I'll head over now." The Emperor stood up, looking at the light filtering through the stained glass windows, sighing. "Wars never cease, neither in the past nor now. Who knows about the future?"

"By the way, has the Magic Guild been notified?" The Emperor suddenly asked while walking down the long corridor, his boots treading softly on the plush carpet.

The Magic Guild was not the Magic Church. The Magic Guild consisted of wizards from the Imperial College of Magic, directly under the Emperor's command. The leader of the Magic Guild was the Imperial Royal Chief Wizard. The current Chief Wizard was Thenuus Germaine, a great fire wizard with unfathomable power. Many believed he had advanced to the Sanctuary, but no one dared to test the strength of this grand wizard.

"Yes, Lord Germaine is on his way to the palace." The attendant replied.

"Summon Gelt as well. I wish to see him after the meeting." The Emperor added.

"Understood." An attendant hurried away.

The Imperial Council determined the Empire's politics, but it wasn't a large place. Located within the Imperial Palace, it was a separate large courtyard with a three-story mansion. Inside, there were guards every five steps, with war tribunal guards in golden armor monitoring any movement.

Karl Franz signaled his guards to step back and gently pushed open the door. All the Elector Counts were already seated, including the Elector Count of Brescia—a boy in his teens, nervously glancing around. The council hall wasn't crowded, each Elector Count accompanied by a single attendant. The hall wasn't narrow; many Elector Counts were even enjoying refreshments.

However, the atmosphere was suffocating.

The Empire's legacy had continued since Charlemagne's time, with only four of the twelve Carolingian knights' bloodlines surviving to the present. The remaining Elector Counts were military nobles enfeoffed after Ludwig. Each Elector Count was a war hero, formidable in their own right. Their imposing presence filled the hall, making attendants and maids delivering refreshments pale and wish to flee quickly.

Additionally, the High Priest of the Church of Justice, Volkmar Beckmann, was meditating, while the High Priest of the Church of Life was discussing grain seed improvement with Elector Count Manfred of Whirlwick. The High Priest of the Magic Church was examining his gem ring, lost in thought.

Seeing the Emperor enter, all the Elector Counts stood up. Karl Franz motioned for them to sit. "Gentlemen, today's council has two matters to discuss."

"Please, Your Majesty, go ahead." The speaker was Roland Otto Fechenbach, Elector Count of Altdorf and "Horn of Victory." His daughter Helena was the Emperor's wife. This Elector Count seemed young,

 but those in the know were aware he was nearly a hundred years old. As a direct descendant of one of the twelve Carolingian knights and the Emperor's father-in-law, he had the right to speak first.

"The first matter is simple. It's a letter from Prince Tyrion of the High Elves." The Emperor sat at the head, placing a letter on the red velvet tablecloth.

"What does the long-eared one's letter say?" The speaker was Umberto Corleone, Elector Count of Toscana and "Lion of the Sun." This brown-haired, full-bearded Elector Count was over 270 years old, the only one who had been an Elector Count since the Great Holy War and still held the position. A legendary human hero and a Sanctuary powerhouse, he was the first noble to respond to Ludwig's call, handing over his military power and personally fighting in the Battle of Fascia, where he single-handedly killed two demon princes.

"The envoy from Ulthuan brought greetings from the Phoenix King and a 'small request'." The Emperor's face showed a sneer. He handed the letter to an attendant, who passed it to Umberto.

"Hmph!" Umberto slammed the table after a glance. "Outrageous! What do these pointy ears want?! They seek Electorship!"

The hall erupted like boiling oil.

"Absolutely not! Human affairs should be resolved by humans!"

"There's no precedent for High Elves interfering in Imperial matters! I oppose it!"

"Impossible!"

"The Emperor of the Human Empire should be elected by humans!"

The Elector Counts roared in indignation, vehemently opposing any suggestion of High Elf involvement in Imperial affairs.

Karl Franz signaled for quiet. "Gentlemen, we will vote on this proposal in ten minutes."

The Emperor then sat, watching the intense debate. Only the High Priest of the Magic Church remained silent, while almost everyone else expressed their absolute rejection of the proposal.

Karl Franz thought, as long as the Elector Counts were rational, they wouldn't agree to such a disgraceful proposal, even though Tyrion promised more magical and technological secrets if passed.

But what about the young Elector Count of Brescia? The Emperor noticed the boy, Gianni Bernardino, whispering to his attendant.

"What should I do?" the boy asked nervously.

"You should vote no, my lord."

Ten minutes later, the Emperor signaled the vote.

Fourteen votes against, one abstention.

The abstention was from the High Priest of the Magic Church, which didn't surprise the Emperor. The Magic Church hoped to learn more magical secrets from the High Elves. An abstention was already a concession.

"Very well, this matter is rejected by the Imperial Council." Karl Franz nodded, unsurprised. "Now, the next matter."

The Emperor's face turned grave. "The Storm Fortress has been breached by northern barbarians. Two thousand defenders perished! About four thousand barbarians have entered Nordland's interior, and Nordland has called for aid!"

The system of Elector Counts wasn't created by Warhammer but by the Holy Roman Empire. I found it interesting upon looking at the history.