The vast coalition forces on land and sea pressed against the nest where the Dark Spirits were entrenched, and the Eagle's forces obscured the horizon. Artillery fire and magic ploughs ploughed the dark black walls, buckshot and crossbow arrows rained wildly, spears and halberds slammed into sparks of death, knights' horses tangled with dark elves' chill lizards. Flesh and blood were everywhere, and colonies of dark spirits were razed to the ground, and thousands of freed slaves from their shackles and torture instruments crowded in front of Emperor Julian, chanting indescribable hymns that brought smiles to the faces of young emperors and marshals.

Eight months flew by, the Imperial Eagle Banner planted the fort towers of the seven Dark Spirit Colony Cities, tens of thousands of Dark Spirits were either dead under the city or drowned in the sea, their military flags and weapons were thrown into the blazing flame in front of the altar of the God Emperor Sigmar, their desecrated symbols were completely erased, suppressed with the Holy Seal of Sigma and the Holy Seal of Yurik, the light of the Eagle Banner swept through all the ugly ruins, and the magic hand of the Dark Spirit and the Old World seemed to be completely cut off.

But the last colonial city – and the largest stronghold of the Darklings – Trumberg Fortress – is difficult to breach. It has a triple blackstone wall built with the labor and blood sacrifices of 100,000 slaves, a poisonous beehive filled with ballistas and magic catapults, it has forty towers as tall as pins, a whirlpool of magic that flies between razor-sharp spires and gargoyles, a natural harbor between two mountains, guarded by a huge black ark and undulating sea serpents and monsters. Its owner is the beautiful and brutal Dark Spirit Pleasure Sect's Chief Witch Tersaga, a terrifying magician who hides his identity as the Chosen One.

But nothing could stop the will of the young emperor, and the final general offensive unfolded in an unstoppable rhythm. Bloodthirsty mutant cold beasts screamed and fell under arrows and buckshots, towering black towers crumbled under the roar of siege cannons, and trampled over the corpses of countless Emperors and Darkspirit warriors, and Emperor Julian himself led Rick's guards from the southern wall into the Trumborg fortress. The walls of the three black stones were broken through one by one, the blasphemous banners were trampled and dusted, Marshal Marius, the Lord of the White Wolves, and the elven army also ascended the north wall of the fortress from the ports of the North Sea, and the torrent of imperial armies rushed from all directions to the last central castle of the dark spirits, and it seemed that the time of end and victory was coming.

So the chief witch of the Pleasure Sect fell into madness, and she made a terrible final decision. Under the pretext of convening the final military breakout meeting and the skillful use of the magic of seduction, her sacrificial officers and shrine maidens, her chief champion martial arts chief and male favorite, and her own young and beautiful daughters, were all set up by her, and one by one they threw themselves into the altar of slaanesh that was ** and tortured in the darkness. For twenty years she had offered thousands of carefully selected, beautiful and strong sacrifices to that altar, but had never received a response, and now it was the last sacrifice she could make, the most precious and the most terrible.

The precious sacrifice and the shrine maiden's devotion made the celestial god of chaos smile, and she decided to bestow on the devout believers and gifts. So between the naked-naked ** and the frequent wails of death, a beautiful face with horns and pincers, a hideous face with death and a charming face, a troll with pink skin and a black carapace---- the projection of the Great Demon of Slaanesh in the human world--- the Great Demon Keeper appeared in the central castle, pushed through the city wall and rushed to the spear forest of Rick's Guard, a group of small succubi and Slaanesh's seeker beast, together with a huge ancient multi-legged kraken "Kraken" Together, they fought their way out of the vortex of chaos that rose from the inner harbor in the northern part of the fortress and pounced on the stunned alliance of humans and elves.

The Empire's vanguard was in disarray, the Great Demon Keeper's claws and flames were beyond human means, and the sixty-foot-tall Great Demon of the Castle swept through everything like a hell of action, and hundreds of warriors rained blood under her giant pincers and whips. But the Emperor summoned his Sun Dragon, and he climbed onto the young dragon's back, and the Sigmar Seal spread out of his body like a god's wings, and then slew like a demigod at the figurative projection of the Chaos Realm and the servants of Slaanesh. The Royal Mage and the Griffin Guard Knights followed him as they marched in a moment that was truly epic for the Empire.

This indescribable battle lasted three hours, and in the end the young emperor emerged victorious, but it was an unbearable victory. When Marshal Marius and Count Rutgers, Lord of the White Wolves, rushed to the Emperor after slaying the giant Kraken and succubi who stood in their way, they saw Julian standing atop the mountain-like wreckage of the Slaanesh Demon with the head of the Chief Witch, but three giant pincers and countless sharp teeth pierced his body, and the poison of the Dark Spirit had turned half of his body black. The young Emperor gave his friend Marius one last smile, and then fell heavily to the battlefield, and at that moment, the sun of the Empire was eclipsed.

Emperor Julian's tenacious vitality sustained him through the last two hours. Facing the different faces of the electors and nobles, he calmly dictated his last words, the original text of which is as follows, which are still engraved on the walls of the imperial temple and left for thousands of people to ponder and remember.

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－

"My friends, now that my life is probably coming to an end, thank the Divine Sigmar and the gods, who, as the highest reward, bestowed death on those who possess virtue. I know that I have received this reward because I have not given in to difficulties, much less brought myself to shame, and I have overcome all difficulties and obstacles, because experience has taught me that difficulties conquer only those who are cowardly, and those who are firm and brave will overcome them!

I have no regret for what I have done today, nor do I have a grave mistake to regret it, and I have always kept my heart as pure as the Holy Sigmar gave me strength in the first moments, both in my humble and poor years and in my reign. I always think twice before I go to war against the state. But deliberate planning does not always produce inevitable success, because fortuitous fate always governs the outcome of all plans.

I tell you honestly that I knew a long time ago that God Revelation said that I was going to die on the battlefield. Therefore I thank the gods that I did not die of a dark conspiracy, of pestilence and disease, nor of useless old age, but that I left this world nobly, having won great honor and the favor of the true God! As for those who do not deserve to die, but who want to die by all means, and who are about to die, but who do everything to avoid it, there is no difference between those who are weak and cowardly.

I know this is my last voice, and I am not afraid of death, but I can no longer finish the responsibility that the gods have entrusted to me. Although the bloody hand of the dark spirit has been cut off, the land of the motherland is still full of wounds and alien enemies, and I have not been able to make the people live and work in peace, but I hope you can do this! I want you to remember that your sword is forged to kill the enemies of the empire, not to humiliate and trample on the weak, and I never want you to use it to kill each other and stain the blood of the people of the empire! The pace of the Great Holy War is always only to expel the aliens, demons, and beasts of aggression. I am sure this will be etched in your hearts, for this is my last plea to you.

My life was simple, there was no personal property, the only precious thing was the 100,000 troops belonging to the motherland, because she was built up bit by bit with my hands. I entrust the scepter of this army to Marshal Marius, my most trusted brother and friend, and I believe that he will hold it up to victory for the Empire. For no one knows better than I do about Marius's talent and courage, and only he can raise the banner of the Great Holy War. My wife and only daughter have also entrusted Marshal Marius as their guardian, and I have promised before I go out to marry my daughter to the marshal's son, and when I have finished speaking, I ask you to step down except Marius. ”

In this way, the young emperor calmly dictated his last words, and then used his last strength to hold the hand of his young brother Marius in armor, and passed away quietly. Marius burst into tears, kissed the Emperor's hand, and half-knelt before the body of his great brother until twilight, and then he rose again, raised the Emperor's eagle banner and gave orders to the Electors, his voice lit up the gloomy sky like wildfire.

"I will fight for the ideals of His Majesty Julian, and I will fight for the expulsion of the enemies of the Empire! Her Royal Highness is now the new Empress, and the 100,000 soldiers of Rickland will always be loyal to her. Until the ugly enemies of the empire are destroyed, the Great Holy War will not end, the fire of the God Emperor Sigmar will burn the demons, and the soul of His Majesty Julian will guide us forever!"

The noise was like a muffled thunder rolling across the land, and the dissatisfaction of the nobles was palpable. But the Lord of the White Wolves silently walked up to Marius's side, bowed his head and pledged Midland's allegiance, and the Rickland's army roared like thunder, and the might of this iron army made all disgruntled. So between the purified flames, the electors and nobles held a funeral for the emperor.

Although the Emperor is dead, the Great Holy War is not over, and the Empire is not divided, for Marius's coldness and Reckland's sword have sent chills down the spine of all the conspirators. The young marshal loyally held the eagle banner high, fought for Julian's unfinished ideals, and the army of six Great Holy Wars in twenty years shook the entire Old World, the army marched south to Tyrir to destroy the invasion of the dark elves again, swept away the armies of countless green-skinned orcs, sacrificed the Sigmar Temple with the head of the Great Horned Rat, cleared the conspiracy of the Night Goblins, crushed the advancing fortress of the Chaos Dwarves, and reduced the army of Chaos south to ashes, until he crossed the waves of the Sea of Talon and joined forces with the High Elves to expedition Nagarus! All the enemies under the eagle banner were fearless, and the prestige of Marshal Marius shook the entire empire.

But the exploits of the marshal, who is revered as the father of recreation, did not end there, he established the sacred imperial code and the civil code, as well as the rituals of the nobility and the imperial court, and he knew the dangers of chaos, so he had to use discipline to check and balance. The empire can no longer be a mess, the empire must have its iron soul.

So the temporarily assembled and half-read teams and battalions disappeared, and were replaced by stable, well-organized regiments, flag teams, wings, brigades, and squadrons. The various chaotic configurations disappeared, and the cavalry, infantry, artillery, mage, and sappers were all integrated into a single legion, while the twelve standing legions of steel became the core of the Imperial Sword. When the Great Holy War was convened, all the Electors had to advance under the banner of the Imperial Court, and the power of the Emperor's Law shocked everyone.

The scattered organization of witchers no longer exists, and is replaced by the Imperial Inquisition, which dominates the northern outskirts of Yenjing Aldolph, and has become a powerful institution directly under His Majesty the Emperor and the Elector Council, responsible for cleaning up the pollution of chaos and vampires, and hunting down spies for the Darklings and Nezumi. Countless relics and materials, as well as a select selection of monks, warriors and assassins, gathered in the black hall of the Inquisition, who will vow to wipe out the enemies of the Empire with every inch of their souls.

The regular army of the Electors was subtly limited, and after stipulating that the maximum standing force of each principality should not exceed five legions, a uniform imperial salary standard was established, based on the purchasing power of food, cloth, and iron. This approach prevents the poor principality from expanding its army on its own, and also ensures that it has an elite rather than a ragtag crowd. At the same time, the minimum standing force of the Elector Principality must not be less than two legions, because the pillars of the empire must not be weak and useless.

The rights of the major temples, the Academy of Magic, and the Order of Knights are respected, and the Imperial Court never interferes in the autonomy of their realms. But the condition was that people should be sent to serve the empire on a regular basis, and at the same time, it was absolutely forbidden to have more than ten people in private civil wars. Those who do not respond to the Imperial Service and initiate a private war against other knights or temples will be punished without hesitation, and those who do more than three times will be banned from the realm and sentenced to life exile, and those who kill their opponents will be punished by death. While prohibiting private fighting, a grand racecourse and arena were established in Yanjing, and the triennial Imperial Knight Contest and the five-year Imperial Magic Contest were formulated.

"When the marshal raises the military flag, his feet are full of devastated country, and when the marshal puts down the military flag, he has a sea of flowers and a happy motherland under his feet!"

It was a poem by the poet Narcès to Marshal Marius at the ceremony of the Imperial Empress's pro-government, and this verse was returned by Marshal Marius, but it was well deserved. In twenty years, the Empire has restored all its territory, cleared countless entrenched vipers, and the sword of the Empire has terrified all its enemies! Cities have risen in ruins, wastelands have become fertile wheat fields, green skins have been driven far from the borders, the Dark Spirits are no longer a nightmare on the coast, wild beasts cannot be rampant, the avenues of the Empire are filled with caravans, and the peasants can sleep in peace. Yanjing Aldolph restored her beauty, like a jewel shining in the center of the empire, and the empire, which had been inherited for nearly 2,700 years since the Holy Sigmar, also stood at the pinnacle of the old world in the West!

The price of all this was that during these twenty years Marshal Marius devoted all his energy and strength to the Empire, to the young empress --- the only daughter of his brother and comrade-in-arms. He used to be lively and wide-ranging, but now war and government affairs were the only note of his life, he ate the same meals as the soldiers, stood at the front of the battle columns, remembered the names of every squadron leader and all the meritorious soldiers in the imperial army, and knew the economy and finances well. He had been wounded eighteen times, had lost a hand and an eye, had been assassinated nine times, had been poisoned three times, had exploded twice, and had almost died again and again, but he was still alive as steel, unbelievably alive, raising his iron hand to crush all enemies, whether he was in the light or in the dark.

At last it all came to an end, and at the ceremony of the imperial empress's pro-government, the forty-four-year-old Marshal Marius was almost a white-haired old man, his face twenty years older than his age, but his steps were still full of strength. The marshal, dressed in gray heavy armor, solemnly raised the imperial army scepter, solemnly placed it in the white hands of the twenty-five-year-old beautiful empress --- his son's wife, and then raised the glorious royal eagle banner covered with bullet marks and damage, and stood it beside the empress's throne, his heavy voice resounding throughout the hall.

"Twenty years ago, when His Immortal Majesty gave me the scepter of this fatherland and the eagle banner of this fatherland on his deathbed, I understood the hope that His Majesty had for me at that moment. Divine Sigmar and the gods, now I can proudly say that I have lived up to the wishes of Your Majesty, that I have lived up to the trust of the gods, and that I can now rest. ”

So Marshal Marius sat down on a chair beside the throne, leaned back in peace, and closed his eyes. The Empress did not disturb her father-in-law, for she knew that he usually slept for only three hours, so she smiled and continued the ceremony, while ordering everyone to be as silent as possible, and the silent ceremony continued for two hours, until someone noticed that something was wrong. The immortal marshal sat silently in his chair and fell asleep forever, not even the empress's top-notch sharya magic and her pearl-like tears could not undo it.

-------------------------------- this chapter is relatively long, equal to the usual two chapters, but this is necessary because separating would spoil the plot.

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