At the same time, inside the royal palace, the banquet was underway.
Under the sound of music, men and women dressed in fine clothes and heavy makeup danced gracefully. Yet, though each of them tried to act as if they were enjoying themselves, their tense eyes and stiff expressions betrayed the truth. The guests were far from at ease.
Their gazes were fixed on the three figures seated at the high table.
"Elder brother's reclamation of Mordheim was a great achievement."
The second prince smiled as he raised his goblet toward the broad-shouldered youth before him.
"Now it seems only fitting that you should be emperor of the empire."
"Hmph, naturally."
The crown prince leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine, his eyes fixed on his younger brother. He had always despised this skinny, monkey-like sibling. Even now, watching him play the sycophant, his heart held no joy.
"Heh, heh heh, everyone knows big brother is the strongest."
The third prince, meanwhile, was buried in food and wine as always. His body was round like a ball, stretched so tight that even the finest silks from Cathay seemed about to burst. He looked more like a human balloon with stubby arms and legs.
Two useless fools.
The crown prince hid his disdain and looked at them again.
"Well then, since you admit it, according to our agreement, you should hand me the relics you possess."
"Of course."
The second prince placed upon the table a scepter as long as a forearm, inlaid with white diamonds. The third prince, struggling, lifted a necklace from his nearly invisible neck, a pendant bearing a round disk.
They were the other two relics: the Scepter of the Wind God and the Wrath of the Earth God.
The crown prince's brows arched as he reached to claim them—but at that moment, the second prince suddenly snatched the scepter back.
"Wait, elder brother, aren't you forgetting something?"
"What?"
"According to imperial law, only one who possesses all four relics is qualified to be emperor. I trust the Hammer of the Fire God is in your hand… but where is the Water God's Gift?"
"..."
At this, the crown prince's expression darkened.
"That is none of your concern. In fact, I consider it meaningless. Without an heir, whether the Water God's Gift exists or not matters little. And besides, I believe this method of choosing an emperor is unworthy of the empire. I intend to reform the succession system."
"This system is indeed painful. For brothers to be forced against one another for the throne is truly tragic… but rules are rules. So I wish to see the Water God's Gift."
The second prince narrowed his eyes, smiling faintly.
"Or could it be, elder brother, that you stirred up such trouble in the City of Silver… only to return empty-handed?"
"...hmph!!"
The crown prince's snarl betrayed the truth. He had indeed marched an army to reclaim the City of Silver in search of the Water God's Gift. His source had told him it lay within the temple there. Yet, though he drove out both plague cultists and skaven, when he reached the temple, the relic was already gone.
Who took it?
"To be honest, I wondered that myself."
The crown prince's gaze shifted to his younger brother, ignoring the third prince who still gorged himself.
"When I entered the temple, the relic was missing. You and I both know the barrier guarding it could only be broken by one of royal blood."
"Oh?"
The second prince feigned surprise.
"Are you suggesting I took it?"
"This is Altdorf."
The crown prince's voice was cold.
"And here you both are. I want an answer. Whoever holds the Water God's Gift, hand it over, and this ends here. Submit to me, and I will guarantee your rank and privilege remain untouched."
"But with a single thought from you, our heads could fall."
The second prince chuckled softly.
"Do you truly think I'll wait quietly for death?"
"You have no choice."
The crown prince's words were icy.
"Heh, heh heh…"
The second prince laughed aloud.
"You've always been like this, elder brother—believing only your way is best, never caring for others' thoughts. But did you really think everything was yours by right? No… even you know father never favored you. Otherwise, why did you conspire with the northern tribes to assassinate him?"
"You—!!"
The crown prince's face twisted in fury. He slammed the table and rose. The nobles below, already trembling, froze as if turned to stone. Even the music had stopped without notice.
Yet the second prince sat calmly, swirling his wine, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Strange, isn't it? How do I know? Truthfully, I was shocked myself when I first heard. To think my iron-willed brother would stoop to such a sordid trick."
"You…"
"You wish to know how I found out? The reason is simple—"
The crown prince never heard the end.
From behind him, a blade suddenly pierced forward. Years of battle saved him—he twisted instinctively. Even so, the dagger rammed into his back, punching through a lung.
"Ghh—!!"
Blood spurted from his mouth. He turned, eyes wide, and saw his most trusted retainer, smiling viciously as he buried the dagger deeper.
"You—!!"
Before he could finish, the knife twisted. Agony wracked him, and he collapsed howling onto the floor.
Screams erupted.
Guests shivered in terror. But the second prince rose unhurriedly and stepped to stand over his brother.
"Elder brother, you never imagined it, did you? In truth, compared to you, I am the true devotee of the Changer of Ways. You thought you could wield Chaos without paying the price? How foolish."
"So… it was you who planted him by my side… and lured me to worship the dark god?"
The crown prince glared in pain, teeth clenched. His brother only smiled.
"'Lure'? How harsh. I never lured you into anything. You sought the Changer yourself. I merely used your plan for my own ends. And now, it's over, elder brother."
He leaned closer, staring into his dying brother's eyes.
"This palace, this kingdom—everything is mine. In the end, you were only a clown dancing in my palm. Oh, and the [Warpstone] you struggled so hard to obtain, and the ritual—don't worry. I'll complete it in your place, and offer the sacrifice to the Changer of Ways."
"Heh… heh heh…"
But his words were interrupted by a dumb, vacant laugh. Annoyed, he turned to the third prince, still cramming a chicken leg into his mouth.
"My foolish brother, don't you understand what's happening? Or are you too stupid to see?"
"I… I know, heh heh…"
The fat prince nodded, cheeks wobbling.
"But I don't like it… heh heh… we're brothers… why fight? If we stay together… it's better."
"So you truly don't understand."
The second prince sneered at him.
"But it doesn't matter. Just obey me, fool."
"No… no, that's wrong."
The third prince shook his head violently.
"Together is better! Together! Yes, together!!"
"Bang!!"
At his cry, the roast turkey before him burst apart. From it crawled countless insect-like vermin, scattering in every direction.
All around, nobles who had feasted suddenly screamed in agony. They clawed at their flesh as their well-kept skin swelled and rotted. Swarms of flies and gnats poured from their mouths and ears. With every shriek, clouds of green plague-mist spewed forth, filling the hall.
At the same time, the third prince raised his arms high. His clothes and flesh sloughed away, revealing a bloated, festering body covered in sores.
"Praise the Father of Plagues!!!"
.....
(End of Chapter)