"Her Highness Catherine has understood her mistakes, please forgive her. ”

Cicero, the director of the Edgeworth of the Principality of Tubaro, who had a premonition that he was not in good shape, hurriedly knelt down on one knee and pleaded guilty to the Grand Baggage Officer. When he saw that Catherine was still standing stupidly, he was so angry that he pulled her hard, and the unruly princess had to half-kneel and bow her head in frustration.

"Then the Imperial Sword Director of the Principality of Tubaro, you are also a person who has experienced decades on the battlefield, you will not pretend not to understand the military law of the imperial court and the rules of the Great Holy War, right?"

The Imperial Court Commander named Guz coldly replied to Cicero's apology, and when it came to "Imperial Court Military Law", the Rick Guardian beside him also raised the steel halberd inlaid with the dwarven Mithril rune, and slammed it to the ground with its handle, sending out an astonishing shocking wave. These Rick Guards were covered with their face armor, and they could not see their true faces, but they exuded a sense of majesty that was completely disproportionate to their numbers. Hyde sensitively noticed that there seemed to be inexplicable magical fluctuations resonating with these guards, these people were no ordinary halberd bearers!

"I know...... But we have apologized to His Highness Hyde, and Tubaro is a self-governing and independent principality......"

Cicero became incoherent, his aura from the pressure and anger of the great official, beads of sweat broke out on his wrinkled forehead, and even his voice became quieter. This surprised Hyde as well, he didn't expect that this important officer, who was usually always smiling, would have such amazing power.

"This matter is not a matter of apologizing to His Highness Hyde, nor is it a matter of kinship, this is the military law of the Empire. The Holy Court respects the autonomy of each principality and municipality within their lawful domains, but this is not a place where autonomy can be reached!

The voice of the Imperial Court Commander carried an incomparable pressure, and everything around him became silent, only his old and stern voice echoed in the air.

"From the time the hammer of the Great Holy War was raised, all those who participated in the expeditionary force, whether he was a miscellaneous servant of the army or the son of an elector, whether he was a bandit in the border mountains or a priest in the imperial capital, all must obey the edict of the Holy Emperor and the scepter of the Imperial Commander, and the military law of the Imperial Court is their rule that cannot be violated! This is the law of the Empire since Marshal St. Marius established the Holy Code of Imperial Military Law two hundred years ago. ”

When the "Marshal of St. Marius" was mentioned, the old man's voice became solemn, because this name is the divine existence of the Empire, the mortal who is not a nobleman but is ranked with the Emperor and the top of the Imperial Temple, the immortal father of the reinvention of the motherland, this is - Divine Marshal Gaidaus Marius! The true legend of the empire two hundred years ago!

When the storm of chaos set off by the Lord of the Maggots more than 200 years ago ended with the champion warrior Theodore Bruckner and the darling of Chaos, Tamur Khan, the empire was almost scorched, and most of the empire's territory and the holy imperial capital of Aldolph were destroyed, ravaged, and polluted like hell on earth. Everywhere was the cries of the crippled, the roars of mutants, the whispers of the remnants of demons, and two-thirds of the population of the empire was reduced to bones in the midst of war, famine, and plague. Prosperous cities have become cemeteries of death, and noisy markets are left with ghostly complaints.

Fifty years after the fall of the Tamur Khan, the magic of the gods of nature has gradually healed the wounds of chaos pollution, the plague of death has dissipated, the forests have regained their tenderness, the land has grown clean grains again, the terror of demons has been forgotten, but the empire has almost ceased to exist. It was the time of chaos recorded in the gray letters of the parchment chronicles, and the time when the empire was on the verge of disintegration and extinction, an era of barbarism.

The remnants of the Electors have set themselves up as kings, and the countless civil wars of the past fifty years have tormented the empire into an empty shell, and even the various magic schools have been divided, the authority of the emperor is gone, and the imperial court has become a ridiculous ornament, and his control does not extend beyond the so-called half a league of the emperor's feet, and he is more of a richly dressed clown than an emperor. Emperor Rick became the domain of a group of petty warlords, each claiming to be the right.

But the rest of the world is not much better, with bandits and beastmen running rampant, the Darklings conquering hundreds of leagues of coastline, building huge colonial black cities, and thousands of Imperials being shackled and enslaved by the perverted desires of the Darklings, groaning under the torture of their brutal masters. The madness of the Darkelves is so long-lasting that they can even reach deep into the ruins of the Holy Imperial Capital of Aldolph for blood sacrifices and gladiatorial rituals, their feet clad in the scales of sea beasts trampling the shattered marble floors of the Holy Sigmar Temple, the remnants of a once-glorious Sanctuary.

The Sylvanian vampires, who had been dissipated for hundreds of years, climbed out of their long-dormant tombs and towers, the banners of death boiling in the night wind, and the greenskinned storm shook the entire south, only because of the existence of the dwarven federal kingdom and the frantic fighting between the greenskins, they were not enough to occupy the entire southern part of the empire. The mouth of the Skaven's tunnels exploded in the markets and farms, leaving corpses everywhere and the never-ending screams of the missing. Even Bretonnia and Kislev took the opportunity to annex large swathes of the frontier of the empire, and the civil war of six or seven self-proclaimed emperors of the electors did not stop, chaos did not appear, but the world has been reduced to a chaotic Colosseum, and the Holy Empire of Sigmar, which has lasted for 2,000 years, seems to be about to become an eternal geographical term.

But two men changed all this, and that was Julian, a distant young nobleman of the House of Rickland, and his close friend, --- Gaydaus Marius! When they met, Julian was fifteen years old and was often reprimanded by his mother as an adventurous teenager, and Gaydaus did not have a surname, for the future Holy Marshal was only twelve years old at the time, the son of a lowly tenant farmer. No one took the friendship of this broken aristocratic boy and the tenant farmer to heart, but the friendship of the two teenagers turned into a huge wave that changed the entire empire.

After a year of acquaintance, Julian gave the surname Marius to his friend Gaidaus, which means Adamantite, and he hoped that their friendship would be as immortal as Adamantite. Soon they disappeared together and went on adventures far away, and there are countless stories and legends about all of them. Some say they discovered the vaults of gold and silver beneath the castles of the ancient dwarves, others say they acquired magical weapons from ancient elven ruins, and others say they sailed to the mysterious land of Aurora, the eastern land ruled by the Holy Dragon Emperor. However, all this is a mystery, because no one can be sure what is the truth of history.

Four years later, they returned to the old land of Reckland, accompanied by a half-elven archer sister. Unexpectedly, Marius married her sister. Soon Julian announced that he had received a revelation from Emperor Sigmar that he would raise the banner again and restore the glory of the Empire! That year, Julian was twenty years old, and Marius was seventeen, and they had thirteen warriors in armor, plus their two companions and themselves, for a total strength of seventeen.

The incident was originally told as a joke. But the rampant bandits soon discover that this is no joke, and that they will either surrender and accept the incorporation, or become the ghosts of Julian's warhammer and Marius's sword. The self-proclaimed lords of the petty warlords were still dismissive of this, but it wasn't long before their wooden forts and stone barricades quickly fell under the Eagle banner of Rick's new army, so they had no choice but to surrender and become loyal warriors under the Rick Eagle banner.

The head of the Minotaur Chosen Champion was shattered under Julian's hammer, the body of Mork, the great wizard of the Beastmen, was cleaved by Marius's sword, the army of 120,000 Beastmen was wiped out, and the epic Battle of the Rick River was over. Seventeen warriors became an army of 45,000 men of steel, and the new army of Rick covered most of the territory of Emperor Rickland, and it took only three years to do so. Legend has it that Julian is the reincarnation of Holy Sigmar, and the rade of warriors, from farmers to mages, threw themselves under the eagle banner of the young Prince Rick, and the ecstatic cries of the ascetics shook the earth.

In the spring of the fourth year, Julian and Marius pointed their banners at the holy imperial capital of Aldolph, which had been repeatedly ravaged by the Darkelves and the Greenskins, and less than three months later, the corpses of the Darkspirits were piled up in the ruins of Aldolph, and Prince Julian and his champion warrior, the Blood Alliance, Chief Marlius, stepped into Aldolph under the flying eagle banner and the Holy Cross of Sigmar. The young earl officially proclaimed himself the sole Holy Emperor, and solemnly sat on the throne of the former emperor among the ruins of the imperial palace. His edicts flew in all directions, ordering the Electors to come and renew their ancient covenants and allegiances.

The Electors roared one after another, they could not recognize a wild boy of undetermined origin, and they could not recognize an unelected emperor. But Rick's army did not stop for a moment, and Julian led an army of 80,000 into the Duchy of Midland--- the land of the white wolf god in the land of the wild warriors inherited for thousands of years. The principalities of the south and east were expecting a terrible battle to crush the boy's ambitions, but the end of the march was unexpected.

Earl of Elector Rogers, a distant relative of House Rickland, Lord of the Northlands and King of the White Wolves---- led an army of 50,000 Midenland to meet the army of Riqueland on the outskirts of Middenheim. The old Elector ordered his knights and foot soldiers to halt their advance, and then rode his griffon alone to the endless array of eagle banners. He declared that he no longer wanted the blood of the human warriors to be shed worthless, and that the fate of 100,000 people would end with two people.