Knight Lord: Start with Daily Intelligence.

Chapter 514 Abundant and Shocking Loot and Promotion
The grand triumphant ceremony in the square temporarily concluded amidst prolonged cheers. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Su Li personally led Gilles, Constantine, and other core commanders of the expeditionary force, as well as Marshal Erstein and other important officials of the territory, into the magnificent Bauhinia Palace.

Outside the palace gates, a deafening clamor raged, but inside, a solemn yet enthusiastic atmosphere quickly filled the space. The grand banquet hall was already prepared; long tables were covered with pristine white linen, set with gleaming silver cutlery and goblets. Thick pine wood burned in the fireplace, its flickering flames illuminating the images of the goddess and the battle banners of the Hessian territories hanging on the walls. The air was filled with the aromas of roasting meat, spices, and rich wine.

However, before the feast officially began, Su Li first led everyone to a temporary spoils display area set up on one side of the banquet hall. Here, the most precious and symbolic spoils of the expeditionary force had been carefully arranged.

"Before we drink, let's see with our own eyes the proof of our warriors' achievements, earned with their blood." Su Li's voice echoed in the somewhat empty hall.

The sight that came into view was breathtaking:
The most striking item in the Greenskins' loot section was the grotesque head of Grudog the Skullcrusher, adorned with a massive metal jawbone, placed on a specially crafted wooden stake, its eyes wide open in fury, as if still unwilling to accept defeat. Beside it stood his iconic, massive battle axe, stained with dried blood and chipped. This axe was suffocatingly large; its handle was as thick as an adult man's thigh, crudely riveted together from a single piece of unknown, dark hardwood and rough, thick iron bars, its weight alone enough to crush an ordinary warrior.

The axe itself is more like a large, rough steel ingot forcibly forged than a meticulously crafted blade. Its double-edged blade is as wide as a door panel, and the edge is not particularly sharp. It is covered with huge, serrated notches and heavy obtuse angles designed for tearing and smashing, making it more for extreme crushing and destruction than for cutting.

It has no ornate runes or sinister luster, only the purest, most primal weight and hardness. The axe surface is covered with deep dents, chipped edges, and indelible dark red rust left by countless frenzied collisions.

The end of the axe handle was crudely inlaid with a ring of sharp animal teeth and bone fragments, serving as counterweight and additional striking points. The entire weapon exuded an almost tangible, ferocious fighting spirit and savage power, as if it would leap up at any moment and smash everything in its path.

"Grudog's City Crusher"—this is the name Gilles gave it based on its power. This battle axe is the embodiment of its former owner's absolute strength and pure destructive desire, a terrifying weapon that has reached god-chosen status through the most savage and pure physical force. It is placed heavily on a reinforced stone platform, its own weight making it as stable as a rock.

Several tattered orc warband banners, crudely painted but brimming with WAAAGH! energy, were hung crosswise, beneath which lay piles of rough plate armor stripped from black orcs and the twisted bone staffs and bizarre totems of earth shamans.

Su Li slowly walked past each exhibit, his expression solemn. He lingered the longest in front of the huge green-skinned battle axe, scrutinizing the destructive marks created purely by force and weight, and feeling the overwhelming, almost suffocating, savage aura emanating from it.

"This battle axe... truly is the ultimate embodiment of pure brute force," Su Li said in a deep voice. He could imagine the devastating scene when that green-skinned warrior wielded it. "It's... truly an astonishing creation. I'm afraid even the strongest knight among us humans would find it difficult to wield such a heavy weapon smoothly. It was simply crafted for inhuman strength." His tone carried a hint of awe for pure destructive power, as well as a faint regret that it could not be used by humans.

Constantine, standing nearby, smiled knowingly. He stepped forward and respectfully explained, “My lord, you are wise. As you said, most of what is displayed here is more symbolic than practical. This head, this battle axe, and those twisted Chaos armors are primarily valued for demonstrating the might of our army, deterring disloyalty, and serving as offerings to our lord.”

He paused, then continued, “As for the truly practical spoils of war that our army can use—the intact armor, the sharp weapons, the chests of gold and silver, and the fine packhorses—after rigorous inspection and preliminary sorting, they have already been escorted by heavy troops directly to the treasury and armory for registration and storage, awaiting your final judgment and allocation. The dwarven masters and our craftsmen will be responsible for handling them, ensuring that every resource is used to strengthen the territory.”

At this moment, Patriarch Ronne, who had been standing quietly to the side and seemed to be bathed in silent holy light, slowly spoke. His voice was calm but carried an undeniable and profound power: "Commander Constantine is quite right. However, my lord, please understand that no matter how rich these material gains may be, they are not the greatest reward of this holy expedition."

He turned his gaze to the spoils of war, especially the giant axe and the various Chaos banners, his eyes filled with piety: "These things, stained with evil and blood, are not pure in themselves, nor are they suitable for mortals to possess or use for long. After the display is complete, they will be sent to the Temple of the Goddess of the Sun and placed on the sacred altar. Through a holy ceremony, we will request the goddess Violet to personally descend with her great power to purify, decompose, and reforge them."

“The goddess will not accept mortal metals,” Ron’s voice was filled with absolute conviction. “She will take the ‘concepts’ they contain—the greenskin’s ferocious battle spirit, the chaotic whispers of blasphemy, the ‘existence’ left behind by countless evil lives that have been extinguished. In return, as a reward for our glorious victories as devout believers, she often bestows new banners imbued with divine power, or blessed high-level weapons and armor. These gifts will be perfectly suited for the use of us human warriors, and contain the light that restrains darkness.”

He finally turned his gaze to Su Li, his tone becoming extremely solemn: "My lord, please believe me. Although the fame of our Black Forest Territory has spread with the army, the true reward from the divine realm has not yet fully arrived."

"We responded to and won this sacred expedition in the name of Violet, the Goddess of the Sun. Such a glorious victory will surely shake the mortal realm and the divine realm. The goddess's gaze has never strayed from her loyal warriors and people. In the near future, you will surely see the blessings brought by this victory manifest in various forms—perhaps a permanent boost to the morale of the entire army, perhaps more soldiers gaining inspiration and breakthroughs through prayer, perhaps a bountiful harvest and peace in the territory, or perhaps... a more direct divine favor descending upon you or the most outstanding hero of this expedition."

"This," Patriarch Rongen nodded slightly, making his final assertion, "is the most precious and priceless reward that the Holy Crusade can offer to believers. It transcends worldly gold, silver, and swords; it is the supreme grace that will truly ensure the eternal stability of my Black Forest and grant me divine protection."

His words undoubtedly added another profound and sacred dimension to this glorious victory, making everyone realize that the aftermath and true impact of this expedition may have only just begun.

Then, everyone's attention naturally shifted to the other loot areas. The atmosphere in the Chaos Loot Area was oppressive. Several sets of twisted, deformed Nurgle Chaos Warrior armors, covered in disgusting pustules and oozing tissue, were propped up on stands, emanating a faint stench of decay. The clear battle dents on them testified to the intensity of the battles. An exquisitely crafted sorcery book, made from the bones and leather of an unknown creature, sat in a glass case; it had been seized from the "Rotten Walker" sorcerer. Most striking was a massive Chaos warband banner, stitched together from rotting skin and metal fragments. The blasphemous symbols on it were charred and curled by the Holy Fire of the Sun, yet their lingering malice was still palpable.

Other items included several Skaven armors draped in tattered cloaks, some mutant deformed weapons, and several open treasure chests containing gold coins and gems that gleamed alluringly in the firelight.

Su Li walked slowly past each exhibit, his expression solemn. He would stop occasionally to touch the deep slashes on the armor with his fingers, and at other times to carefully examine the evil creations. All the ministers and generals followed him in silence, holding their breath, feeling the powerful impact of these silent spoils of war—they demonstrated the cruelty and glory of the expedition far more directly than any verbal report.

These are the offerings Constantine spoke of, to be sent to the temple of the Goddess of the Sun, to announce the triumphant return of the expeditionary force, and to receive the glorious reward for the holy victory of the expedition!
"It must have taken a lot of effort to purify these filthy things, right?" Su Li turned to ask Constantine.

“Reporting to Your Excellency,” Constantine said solemnly, “thanks to the glory of the goddess, all items containing strong chaotic contamination have been thoroughly purified by sacred fire by myself and the accompanying priests to ensure their safety. What remains are now just cold blocks of iron and historical witnesses.”

Su Li nodded in satisfaction.

Afterwards, everyone moved to the main table in the banquet hall and took their seats. The waiters immediately poured everyone's glasses of fine Blacksmith's brandy. Su Li did not rush to announce the start of the banquet, but instead raised his glass to Gilles.

“Gilles, now that the outside noise is over, pick up your battle reports and tell me in detail. From the first day you left Blacksend Territory, I want to know how our warriors won these honors step by step in every important battle. In particular,” he glanced at the newly crowned champion knights and the two chosen knights, “I want to hear the story of each of them.”

Gilles took a deep breath, stood up, and unrolled the thick parchment. He didn't simply read from the book, but like a true epic chanter, he began to narrate in a steady and captivating tone.

He began by recounting the arduous march of the army across the border princely territories, describing the initial skirmishes with small greenskin scouts; he spoke of the first large-scale engagement on the outskirts of "Bonecrest" Valley, how the Knights of the Crimson Night launched a deadly flanking attack under the cover of night; he recounted how the Knights of the Suncrown, in an ambush, withstood a charge from a Beastmen many times their size, holding their ground until the main force arrived; he described in detail the fierce street fighting during the siege of the dwarven outpost occupied by the Nurgle Warband, how Constantine led from the front, using his burning warhammer to purify the mutated monsters, and at the last moment, using himself as a catalyst to guide the Sunfire to burn the source of the plague…

He not only described the overall battle situation, but also, at Su Li's request, personally recounted the highlight moments of several champion knights.

Gilles' voice echoed through the magnificent banquet hall. He set the parchment scroll down slightly, his gaze sweeping over the newly crowned champion knights who stood solemnly, their breastplates gleaming in the firelight. "My lord, my comrades," Gilles' voice was filled with respect, "the numbers in the battle reports are cold, hard data, but forged from them are living examples of courage and sacrifice. Allow me to introduce to you a few exemplary figures who, through unparalleled bravery and unwavering faith, have emerged victorious from the crucible of this expedition!"

He first looked at a knight who wasn't the tallest, but whose stance was as firm as a steel nail. The knight's armor was covered with deep claw marks and a terrible dent that almost went through his breastplate, but his eyes were as calm and sharp as an iceberg.

"First and foremost, it was the 'Shield' of the Sunfire Knights, Bartolome Lionel!" Gilles' voice boomed like a war drum. "In the bloody battle of Riftbone Valley, our flank was met with a fierce attack from the Chaos Warband led by a terrifying Nurgle! As the lines crumbled, it was Bartolome! He witnessed the squadron's banner about to fall, roared in the name of the goddess, and single-handedly faced that putrid behemoth!"

"He abandoned all dodging and parrying, using his massive shield emblazoned with the sun's emblem to withstand the full force of the Nurgle's attack—a blow powerful enough to shatter city walls! The shield shattered! His arm bones were broken! His breastplate was dented! Yet, with his mortal body, he withstood that inhuman force, not retreating an inch! Just as the monster showed a tiny opening due to the pause in its attack, he hurled his remaining right hand, imbued with all his faith, the warhammer, precisely smashing the head of the Chaos Wizard who commanded the monster!"

Gilles' voice trembled with excitement: "The Nurgles were thrown into chaos by the warlock's death, and our army seized the opportunity to counterattack, turning the tide of the battle in one fell swoop! Bartholomew, he was saved from the brink of death by the priest. The goddess's grace not only healed his wounds but also bestowed upon him unparalleled power! Now, he has been promoted to 'Chosen Shieldbearer,' and his very existence is the Legion's strongest bulwark!"

Thunderous applause erupted. Bartorem bowed slightly, his face showing no pride, only absolute resolve born from having survived a near-death experience.

Then Gilles' gaze fell upon another knight. This knight possessed a distinct air; he was agile, with eyes as sharp as a hawk's, and even in the midst of a grand banquet, he seemed ready to draw his sword at any moment. His armor bore a few signs of corrosion, but was remarkably well-preserved.

“Next up is 'Sun Vanguard' of the Crimson Night Knights, Kaslan Otto!” Gilles’s tone became low and intense. “During the darkest hour of the siege of the Plague Outpost, we were trapped in a maze of underground tunnels. The evil Nurgle wizards lurked deep within the labyrinth, constantly summoning corrupted creatures and spreading the plague. Our soldiers fell in droves, and hope seemed fading.”

"It was Kaslan! He volunteered to lead a small team on a near-suicidal mission—to traverse abandoned mine tunnels filled with mutated monsters and deadly poisonous fog, to outflank the enemy, and behead the evil wizard! The group of ten set off, enduring unimaginable hardships, but in the end, only Kaslan, with the almost instinctive insight into filth bestowed upon him by the goddess, successfully reached the wizard's lair!"

Gilles took a deep breath, as if he could still feel the tension of that moment: "He faced a wizard and his entire army of Chaos Guardians! But he did not hesitate! He roared the name of His Lord, channeling the power of the Sun Goddess and the energy of the Mooncrown Flower into his longsword, clearing out the outer guards before the enemy could raise the alarm! In the final confrontation with the wizard, the evil magic almost tore his soul apart, but he withstood it with his will, and finally, at the last moment of the spell's completion, he plunged his longsword—'Twilight Judgment'—into that rotting heart!"

"The wizard's death interrupted the ritual, drastically reducing the pressure on the front lines, which allowed us to breach the fortress in one fell swoop! Kaslan, he accomplished the impossible; his indomitable spirit and unwavering will are beyond the reach of ordinary people! The goddess has favored him; now, he has become the blazing vanguard, the goddess's sharp blade to purify evil!"

The crowd's gazes were filled with awe. Kaslan nodded slightly, his eyes as sharp as ever.

Gilles' gaze then fell upon a knight standing ramrod straight, his demeanor calm and serene. The knight's armor was standard plate armor, but it was meticulously maintained, covered with fine scratches and repair marks, telling the story not of a single earth-shattering duel, but of the accumulation of countless battles, large and small.

“And the next one,” Gilles’s voice carried the solemnity of recounting the beginning of a legend, “is the best proof of the meritocracy of my Hessian army! He was not of noble birth, nor did he inherit a vast fiefdom or private army. He initially joined the expedition as an ordinary knight with a dozen or so armed squires. Now, he is the commander of the 'Bastion Regiment,' commanding over five hundred soldiers, and is respectfully called by his soldiers the 'Bastion of Despair' and the 'Wall of Sighs'—Sir Heinrich Wolfgang!”

Gilles began to depict Heinrich's step-by-step climb to the top:
"In the early stages of the expedition, on the muddy paths of the border prince's territory, his squad was always assigned the most arduous outpost and rearguard duties. At 'Blackwater Creek,' his eighteen-man squad encountered eighty goblin wolf riders. He neither fought to the death nor fled, but instead ordered his men to hold the rocky slope, using a halberd formation to draw attention, while he personally led four of his bravest attendants in a lightning-fast flanking attack, directly targeting the goblin alpha wolf! The decapitation was successful, and the goblins instantly collapsed. He led his squad to retreat unscathed. Although this battle was minor, his grasp of timing and his strategy of achieving maximum results with minimal losses were already beginning to show his talent."

"His turning point came in the 'Bone-Cracking' Valley. An infantry company commander had been killed in action, and the front lines were on the verge of collapse. Heinrich, then just a platoon leader, was passing by on a supply mission. In this critical moment, he took command without hesitation! He weaved through the fleeing soldiers, issuing concise orders in a calm, almost ruthless voice, quickly rebuilding the shield wall and deploying crossbowmen for precise, deflecting fire. Like a boulder thrown into a torrent, he single-handedly held off a frenzied attack by several times the number of Greenskins with just over a hundred exhausted soldiers for half an hour, until reinforcements arrived. After this battle, he was promoted ahead of schedule and began commanding a company independently."

Gillespie paused, her tone becoming more somber, as she entered the legendary battle that cemented Heinrich's reputation as the "Fence of Desperation."

"However, what truly made Heinrich's name resound throughout the legion and attracted the favor of the goddess, who bestowed upon him the grace to help him break through the limits of the mortal world, was the desperate ambush at 'Wailing Valley'!"

"At that time, the main force was engaged in a decisive battle with Grudog. A flanking force of over three thousand men (including several terrifying Anaric spiders) led by the night goblin shaman 'Slippery' Mog attempted to cross the Wailing Canyon and ambush our rear. If they succeeded, the annihilation of our entire army would be imminent!"

"The interception mission fell to Heinrich, who at the time commanded only five hundred infantrymen! The troop ratio was more than one to six, and the enemy had giant beasts!"

"In dire straits, Heinrich saw a glimmer of hope for victory. He made a bold deployment that surpassed everyone's imagination!"

Gilles' voice was full of tension: "He did not pile all his forces at the mouth of the valley. He left only two hundred men to put up an initial resistance before feigning defeat and retreating, luring the main enemy force into the narrow canyon. He secretly deployed his main force—halberdiers, swordsmen, and crossbowmen—behind a naturally formed 'bottleneck' in the middle of the canyon, and set up countless tripwires, traps, and oil traps."

"When 'Slippery' Mog and his main force of giant spiders had fully entered the heart of the canyon, and the vanguard reached the 'bottleneck,' Heinrich gave the signal!" Gilles waved his hand, "The ambush troops on the cliff top ignited the fire barrier, instantly cutting the enemy's ranks in half! The enemy troops in front panicked, while those in the rear were overwhelmed!"

"At the same time, Heinrich personally led his most elite swordsmen, sealing off the 'bottleneck' exit like an impregnable wall! He himself stood behind the shield wall, his eyes cold, issuing each command clearly. The crossbowmen, following his orders, unleashed a breathtaking three-stage barrage of arrows, the rain of arrows landing precisely on the heads of the enemy troops who were densely packed together in chaos!"

"Giant spiders charge the front lines! Heinrich remains calm under pressure, ordering halberdiers to advance and sacrifice themselves to attack the joints, while simultaneously sending assassins to hurle oil canisters to set the giant spiders ablaze! The burning monsters thrash about wildly, creating even greater chaos within the enemy ranks!"

"He was like a conductor standing at the gates of hell, precisely controlling every rhythm of the battlefield. Under his command, five hundred men transformed into a true, despairing 'Wailing Wall'! Every enemy charge was met with bloodshed, yet they could not budge him an inch!"

"In the end, after slaying the fleeing 'slippery' Mog, this massive flanking force completely collapsed, either being annihilated or fleeing in disarray. Heinrich Wolfgang, with only five hundred men, nearly wiped out an enemy ten times his size, perfectly achieving his strategic objective!"

"At the very moment of victory, as Heinrich calmly ordered his troops to mop up the remaining enemy," Gilles' tone became incredibly reverent, "all the soldiers witnessed—a beam of light as blazing as the sun pierced through the smoke and precisely enveloped him! The goddess's gaze lingered on him! Grace descended! His weary body was infused with strength, and his perception was elevated to a whole new level—the slightest movement on the battlefield, the subtle shifts in morale between friend and foe, even the enemy's next possible move, all unfolded in his mind like a clear painting! The goddess recognized the ultimate art that his mortal tactics could achieve, bestowing upon him the supreme grace of 'divine strategy' and 'immovable fortress'!"

"From this day forward, Heinrich Wolfgang, this commander of commoner origin, transcended class barriers and was crowned Champion Knight in the name of 'Fortress of Despair'! Wherever he was, he became the Legion's strongest line of defense and the source of confidence for all soldiers!"

The banquet hall erupted in an unprecedented roar, a cacophony of admiration and fervent cheers. Heinrich's story was a true inspirational legend, proving that before goddesses and lords, talent and achievement were far more noble than bloodline. His titles, "The Bulwark of Despair" and "The Wailing Wall," were imbued with power and a reassuring aura of dominance.

(End of this chapter)