As the Slaanesh army began to collapse, the morale of the human coalition soared. The knights surged forward with unmatched enthusiasm, and the ranks quickly descended into chaos as everyone raced to claim as many enemy heads as possible.
A head meant merit!
The frenzy was further fueled by the shimmering vision of the Lady of the Lake in the sky, signaling the goddess's attention to the battle. Knights and their squires were ecstatic. Even Ryan's commands were ignored in the pandemonium. For the serfs and freedmen, this rare opportunity to gain recognition in the eyes of the Lady was nothing short of a once-in-a-lifetime chance—or perhaps, a once-in-a-millennium miracle.
Everyone surged forward, fighting desperately to earn their place in the annals of glory.
"Order everyone to stop! No reckless pursuit!" Ryan commanded immediately, but it was too late. Only the Old Guard, and the forces led by Morgiana, Bohemond, and Lawn, heeded their commanders' restraint. The rest of the army charged ahead in a reckless pursuit.
This proved to be a fatal error.
The weaknesses of Slaanesh's forces were well known: poor siege capabilities, distraction by endless debauchery, and a tendency to lose discipline.
But their strengths were equally notable: they excelled in chaotic battles, hit-and-run tactics, rapid maneuvering, and quick battlefield reorganizations. Their individual combat skills were unparalleled in disarrayed skirmishes.
Moreover, the psychological advantage of Slaanesh devotees was their twisted pleasure in defeat. For them, failure was another form of ecstasy, a novel sensation to relish.
Disorganized yet unbroken, adept at counterattacks and guerilla warfare—this was the hallmark of Slaanesh's followers.
"Hold your ground! Do not pursue! Old Guard!" Davout, the deputy commander, galloped past the ranks of the Old Guard, urgently relaying Ryan's orders. "The King commands—no pursuit!"
The disciplined Old Guard immediately halted, forming an orderly line.
"Cease the pursuit!" Duke Bohemond bellowed. The veteran Duke, nearly a demigod at the peak of his Saintly Domain, commanded his troops to halt. "Lawn, rein in your men!"
But the rest of the army was already beyond control, recklessly surging ahead.
At that moment, the retreating Slaanesh forces, led by the champion Baglay the Twisted Calamity, reorganized with astonishing speed. Assuming command, Baglay launched a ferocious counterattack.
Caught off guard, the pursuing human forces encountered fierce resistance. Slaanesh devotees clawed knights from their saddles, impaled them with crab-like pincers through chest and throat armor, and tore apart eager serfs and freedmen vying for glory and the favor of the Lady.
Chaos cavalry, the Lust Knights, refused to retreat alongside Prince Sigvald. Clad in exquisite purple Chaos armor adorned with intricate embellishments, they charged from the northern flank, slaughtering Bretonnians like livestock. Disorganized and isolated, the pursuers were picked off one by one.
By the time reinforcements arrived, over a thousand Bretonnians lay dead on the battlefield.
The magnitude of the disaster began to dawn on the pursuers. Without Ryan's presence, the vanguard would likely have crumbled entirely.
Fortunately, Morgiana and her Priestesses of the Lake intervened with powerful magic, shielding and supporting their allies. Aurora and Theresa unleashed Frost Novas to slow the Slaanesh counterattack, while Veronica's Banishing Light targeted the Chaos Daemons, banishing them back to the Warp. Despite the chaos, the Slaanesh forces remained at a disadvantage overall.
Ryan hovered in the air, observing coldly. The Knight King knew that after their glorious victory in the Battle of the Three Kings, his forces had grown complacent, believing all enemies were beneath them. Such arrogance was intolerable; he could not afford an undisciplined army.
In the chaotic melee, the Slaanesh forces seemed to fight with increasing ferocity, feeding off the disorder.
At this critical moment, reinforcements arrived. The Middenland army joined the battle from the rear, while the Hochland forces, under Elector Count Aldebrand, raised their long-barreled arquebuses and fired disciplined volleys. The converging human armies overwhelmed the Slaanesh troops, further shaking their morale.
The Sword of Ulric joined the fray. The Middenlanders, with their ferocious and primal swordsmanship, led the charge. Elector Count Boris Todbringer vowed to stain his Runefang with Chaos blood. Even Morgiana, seeing the dire situation, commanded the Grail Guardians to advance. The once-dominant Slaanesh army faltered. As the tide turned, Ryan ordered the Old Guard to advance methodically, reentering the battlefield.
Baldwin, a knight from Le-Angouleme, fought his way into the thick of the melee. He drove his lance deep into a Slaanesh daemon's chest, discarding the shattered weapon to draw his knightly sword. With a swift motion, he decapitated a Chaos warrior, then spun to dispatch a second.
The spray of blood and the severed heads filled Baldwin with exhilaration. This was the life he craved—not idly collecting rents as a useless noble, but earning glory and wealth through battle, serving his king and offering loyalty to the Lady.
Not far away, two knights and their squires were under siege. Recognizing their banner as fellow knights of Le-Angouleme, Baldwin charged to their aid. Empowered by healing magic from Morgiana, he felt renewed vigor and fought with gratitude.
Baldwin's life had once been marked by misfortune; he had suffered from leprosy, a grim disease beyond even the mercy of the goddess Shallya. Only the Lady of the Lake's divine intervention, through Morgiana, had saved him. This miracle had given Baldwin new purpose and unwavering devotion.
"For Le-Angouleme! For the Lady!" Baldwin roared, his sword cutting through two Kurgan warriors. His warhorse reared, kicking a lesser daemon of Slaanesh into the air.
Having rescued his comrades, Baldwin received their knightly salutes before they rejoined the counterattack.
His next target revealed itself: Baglay the Twisted Calamity.
Lost in his fantasies of ascension, Baglay reveled in his role as the commander, dreaming of taking Prince Sigvald's place and achieving daemonhood.
But his daydreams were interrupted by a thunderous volley from Hochland's long rifles. Three lead balls struck his chest and waist, leaving smoking holes that gushed blood. As he reeled, Baldwin's knightly sword descended on him.
Caught off guard, Baglay raised his arm to block, forgetting that his shield had been shattered earlier. Baldwin's blade severed his arm clean off.
"Baldwin de Clément of Le-Angouleme! Name yourself!"
"Champion of Prince Sigvald, Baglay!"
The duel began, drawing the attention of the battlefield. Baldwin, encased in heavy armor, fought with traditional sword-and-shield techniques, while Baglay's swift and agile style relied on precise strikes and nimble footwork.
Initially, Baldwin's heavy blows missed their mark, making him appear clumsy. But he adapted, focusing on defense and letting his wounded opponent exhaust himself.
After several exchanges, Baglay began to falter, his movements slowing as blood loss took its toll. Seizing the opportunity, Baldwin drove his sword through Baglay's left eye, then followed with a thrust that pierced the Chaos champion's chest. Baglay collapsed.
With their champion slain, the Slaanesh forces crumbled once more. Ryan entered the battlefield, knowing his troops had learned a harsh lesson. Losses were acceptable, but excessive casualties were not the mark of a wise king. With the combined might of the Bretonnian and Middenland forces, bolstered by Hochland's flank attack, the Slaanesh army broke. After leaving over 10,000 dead, the remaining 8,000 fled toward the Central Mountains.
This time, no one pursued.
Ryan sighed at the wasted opportunity. But considering the coalition's forced march of over 30 kilometers, the exhaustion of the troops, and the late hour, he relented. The Battle of Hergig was over.
The human coalition had suffered over 6,000 casualties, including 2,500 dead. Bretonnia lost over 200 knights, while Hochland's losses exceeded 3,000.
Slaanesh's forces, originally over 45,000 strong with 8,000 beastmen allies, were reduced to fewer than 10,000 survivors. The Chaos Prince Azazel was banished.
As Ryan surveyed the smoke-filled city walls and corpse-littered fields of Hergig, he sighed. "Another victory, but it does little to change the larger war."
Duke Bohemond approached, his blade still stained with daemon blood. "Your Majesty, don't be so harsh on yourself. We've won countless victories along the way. Your fame now spans from the Wastes to Araby."
Ryan chuckled. "Perhaps I'd prefer less attention. Fame is a double-edged sword." He then scowled. "Bring everyone here. Who authorized the unauthorized pursuit?"
The knights gathered, and those responsible for the reckless chase received a stern rebuke from Ryan. Shamed, they hung their heads. Morgiana, representing the Lady of the Lake, also delivered a scathing reprimand.
Despite the victory, the casualties were staggering—higher than those from the Battle of the Three Kings.
After the reprimands came rewards. Twelve freedmen who had distinguished themselves in battle earned places in the Old Guard, replenishing its losses. Among them, three members were knighted on the spot by Ryan himself, in recognition of their exceptional bravery.
Meanwhile, Elector Counts Boris Todbringer and Aldebrand Ludenhof embraced warmly. The normally stern-faced Aldebrand managed a small smile. "It's been a while, old friend. How have you been?"
"Good! Very good!" Boris laughed heartily, uncharacteristically jubilant. "We've won! We keep winning! Victory after victory!"
Aldebrand sighed, envious. "Three Kings, huh? I'll admit I was worried Hergig would fall before you arrived."
"We marched over 30 kilometers in half a day to get here," Boris said with a grin. "Don't expect us to do much more after that. How fares the situation, Alde?"
"Not great," Aldebrand admitted. "Most of Hochland's forces were engaged in the defense of von Zhukov and were wiped out. Talabecland and Stirland are more concerned with the undead and refuse to deploy troops. As for Karl Franz and Emmanuelle, they've only just reached Talabheim. That bastard Helmut vetoed every city council motion to send reinforcements and claims his hands are tied."
"Impossible!" Boris's grin faded, replaced by disbelief. "These are decisions made at the Imperial Council. Helmut can't ignore them unless he no longer wishes to remain Elector Count."
"He sent the Order of the Taal's Fury," Aldebrand added, "under his personal banner."
"That's enough," Boris said, his eyes brightening at the mention of Taal's Fury.
Helmut Feuerbach, Grand Duke of Talabecland and Count of Talabheim, was notorious across the Empire for his underhanded methods. Even so, his personal knightly order was a formidable force.
A few moments later, Ryan finished admonishing his knights and returned. Boris greeted him warmly, introducing him to Aldebrand.
"This is Aldebrand Ludenhof, Grand Baron of Hochland and Elector Count. His son Konrad studies at Nuln University and the Nuln Gunnery Academy alongside your son, young Frederick," Boris explained enthusiastically. "And this is Ryan Macador, the Knight King of Bretonnia. I hardly need to introduce him—the Battle of the Three Kings, the Marsh of Sorrows, and now this battle have seen him rout Chaos forces time and again."
"Thank you for your support, Knight King from across the mountains. The people of Hochland will never forget this act of friendship," Aldebrand said, extending his hand.
"As your ally, comrade, and friend, it was my duty," Ryan replied, shaking the Elector Count's hand firmly.
Another victory had been secured, and the forces of humanity continued to advance. Hergig now stood only 150 kilometers from Wolfenburg, the next major objective in the war against Chaos.
"We have new intelligence to share with you, Your Majesty. Please come inside for a detailed discussion."
"Of course," Ryan agreed, following them into the war tent.
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