Warhammer Fanfic: Starting with a Core Cabin

Since Duanmu Huai hadn't yet unlocked the [Inquisition Library], he couldn't analyze the [Antimatter Energy Core], so he first sent it back to the core module's storage via teleport beacon. After all, it wasn't practical to run around carrying something like that.

While the Old Ones' technology was undoubtedly stable, this was still an energy core. If it exploded, the consequences would be far worse than a nuclear meltdown—there had even been cases where some reckless players caused the destruction of an entire star system. Although the [Antimatter Energy Core] wasn't as dangerous as the [Dark Matter Energy Core], if it did go off… well, with Duanmu Huai's current level 22 frame, the result would be him getting instantly vaporized mid-joke without leaving a trace.

The dwarves didn't know what Duanmu Huai had obtained, but they didn't particularly care either—dwarves were straightforward by nature. In the battle, Duanmu Huai had charged ahead, attracting the bulk of the enemy's attention, and had even slain the Skaven hero. To the dwarves, that meant one thing—"This big guy is reliable. When it counts, he's the first in!"

What followed was smooth sailing. The dwarves not only agreed to let Duanmu Huai and his party cross the Grey Mountains en route to Bretonnia, but even resupplied them generously and gifted them a wagon. Brock patted Duanmu Huai's leg (he couldn't even reach the knee) and loudly declared him a friend of the dwarves forever. He even gave Duanmu Huai a token of friendship, allowing him to freely enter and exit the Grey Mountains from now on.

Actually, Brock had originally wanted to give Duanmu Huai a weapon. Among dwarves, it was customary to gift weapons as a symbol of friendship. For example, one of the first emperors of the Empire had once formed a deep bond with a dwarf king and was gifted a warhammer—this later became the symbol of the alliance between humans and dwarves.

Unfortunately, Duanmu Huai was just too massive. Any weapon forged by dwarves looked like a toy in his hands. In the end, Brock had no choice but to abandon that idea.

Duanmu Huai also obtained some intel about the outside world from Brock.

The Empire was still a complete mess. The three emperors were locked in a bitter civil war, and elsewhere, believers of the Gods of Tyranny and Decay were terrorizing the land. The dwarves hadn't received any requests for aid from their Imperial allies—which wasn't surprising, since no one even knew who the Emperor was at the moment.

As for Bretonnia, things were relatively stable. It was, broadly speaking, a peaceful nation. Its biggest threat came from the north—namely, the rampaging green-skinned orcs.

However, Brock pointed out another potential danger to Duanmu Huai.

"You'd better watch out for those twiggy wood elves of Athel Loren! They're dangerous!"

"Don't worry. I understand."

Hearing Brock's warning, Duanmu Huai nodded solemnly. As a veteran player, he knew Brock wasn't just saying this out of the age-old hatred between dwarves and elves.

Actually, at the beginning, the dwarves and elves were fairly friendly. But over time, various issues arose. The two sides fought, reconciled, and fought again, but among those issues, some particularly troublesome matters emerged.

The Wood Elves were one of them. These Wood Elves were originally members of the High Elf race. During the time of the Great Crusade, they were part of the High Elven army sent to battle against the dwarves. However, halfway through the campaign, the homeland of the High Elves was invaded by the Chaos Gods, causing great alarm among the High Elves. The commanders immediately demanded that the expeditionary army return to defend the homeland.

At that time, some of the High Elves in the expeditionary force were not pleased. You dragged us all the way from the island to fight, and now halfway through, you're telling us to turn around and leave? What about our dignity?

So this group of Elves broke off from the main force, disappeared into the forests, and ultimately became a splinter faction of the High Elves—the Wood Elves.

Of course, there's also a legend tied to this. It's said that long ago, when the High Elves were attacked by Chaos daemons, the High Elven Queen begged the spirit of the forest to save her two children. The spirit agreed—on one condition: I'll save your children, but in the future, half your people will belong to me.

If that tale is true, then the Wood Elves are essentially the debt repaid by the High Elven Queen.

Anyway, that's not the important part.

What matters is how dangerous the Wood Elves are.

The Wood Elves are pure extreme environmentalists—and not the type that flies around the world preaching at summits or waving protest signs at construction sites. They patrol the forests and kill anyone who dares venture too close. The corpses are then dragged beneath trees and buried as fertilizer.

See that? That's what real extreme environmentalism looks like! (Leans back dramatically)

Not only that, but Wood Elves also capture and brainwash human children who wander near the forest, turning them into loyal servants. They use many tricks to lure in victims—for instance, if a party of adventurers enters the forest, they may be warmly welcomed by beautiful Wood Elves, invited to a feast, serenaded with songs, and offered wine and fine food.

Then, once they fall asleep, they're dragged off and buried as fertilizer.

So, while Wood Elves are not Chaos worshippers, they are just as dangerous to humans. That's why Brock warned Duanmu Huai—so he wouldn't fall for their tricks.

Duanmu Huai trusted the dwarves greatly. Among all the races on the noob planet, the dwarves were one of the two with the highest resistance to Chaos. Honestly, if you had to fight Chaos, putting your back in their hands was the safest option. After all, the dwarves were originally created by the Old Ones to combat the threat of Chaos, with their Chaos Resistance stat maxed out. But eventually, the Old Ones gave up on them—because they were too rigid, too stubborn.

So, the Old Ones went on to create a new species—one that was not only powerful and highly resistant to Chaos, but also excelled in both magic and physical combat, had insanely high reproduction rates, and became the ultimate vanguard against Chaos.

Hmm? You want to know what species that was?

Oh—Ogres.

Duanmu Huai would have to be brain-dead to try getting chummy with them.

Have you ever seen a roast chicken on the dinner table trying to strike up a friendship with you?

Bunnies are so cute—doesn't adding chili make them even tastier?

"Whew… Finally freeee—!!"

After crossing the Grey Mountains and stepping onto Bretonnian soil, the Elf Scout was the first to leap into the air. She raised her hands high and stretched lazily, not caring in the slightest that her graceful figure was now fully on display. Even the old knight, Alisa, and Lady Christine showed visibly relaxed expressions.

And no wonder—ever since leaving Silver City, everyone had been constantly on edge. First, they were hunted by Cultists of Decay, then wandered into a land of death and silence. Although Duanmu Huai's highly "anti-evil" presence kept them safe from harm, just being in a land crawling with undead was taxing on everyone's mental state.

Things eased up slightly once they entered dwarven territory, but even then, there was still an undercurrent of unease.

Only now, having stepped into Bretonnia, did they truly feel at ease.

At the very least, this was a land under the protection of the Lady of the Lake, free from most of the troubles and threats that plagued the world.

This reputation wasn't without reason. Though Bretonnia wasn't a large country, it was known across the continent for its honorable image. Often described as a pastoral paradise, the nobility here were said to uphold the chivalric code and knightly virtues, governing a peaceful and orderly society. To outsiders, it was a veritable heaven on earth… Of course, to players, this always came off as a bit ironic.

Sure, all that praise wasn't exactly false.

But there was a major caveat—peasants not included.

From a player's point of view, being a peasant in Bretonnia was worse than being a flunky for the Chaos cultists.

Take taxes, for example.

Everyone knew about the famous tithe system. Most countries on this planet collected a standard tithe—one-tenth of a farmer's harvest went to the state.

But in Bretonnia, the peasants didn't pay a one-tenth tithe—they paid a nine-tenths tithe. That's right—ninety percent of their crops went to the nobility. The peasants were allowed to keep only ten percent for themselves.

Even Huang Shiren would've called that "expert-level exploitation."

Not only that, during times of war, the peasants would be drafted into the army and sent to the frontlines—put bluntly, as cannon fodder. In other words, in Bretonnia, peasants not only held the lowest status and were exploited, but also had to be sent off to die by those noble knights. It was like squeezing oil out of their bones.

Because of this, many players found it deeply ironic. Quite a few had gone on forum rants condemning Bretonnia's fake nobility and hollow virtues. After all, these knights would loudly proclaim their chivalric ideals, then turn around and send the very citizens they swore to protect to their deaths. It all reeked of dark humor.

But from Duanmu Huai's perspective, this was perfectly normal.

After all, that's how history worked.

Take the Roman Republic, for example—citizens could elect their leaders, but slaves were only fit for entertainment in the gladiator arenas.

In the Western Zhou dynasty, vassal lords could vote for a sovereign, but the peasants outside the city walls had nothing but tax obligations—no rights to speak of.

Even in modern times, when British gentlemen in tailcoats with curled mustaches puffed their pipes and sipped champagne, they couldn't care less about the lives of serfs in faraway colonies.

Otherwise, how was the British Empire's "Sun Never Sets" fleet built? Was it powered by cheat codes spawning resources out of nowhere? No, it was built on the backs of colonies and the slave trade. Those noble-looking officers in their pristine uniforms, oozing naval tradition and gentlemanly charm aboard their warships, were all supported by the blood and labor of the oppressed.

And that didn't stop them from heroically shouting "For Britannia!" as they died in battle, did it?

So a country like Bretonnia, which might seem absurd to the modern mind, isn't really that surprising when you think about it.

It's like how in Westerns, cowboys are glorified for defending their towns from "savage" Indian tribes—while conveniently forgetting that it was the white settlers who came to steal, kill, and plunder in the first place.

Or how movies praising Caesar never mention how much slave labor his conquests were built on.

At the end of the day, showing off takes capital, and a knightly nation like Bretonnia, with its medieval-level civilization, is no exception.

And really, what else can you expect from a medieval-level civilization… this is just how it is.

Of course, Alisa and the others didn't come all this way to become peasants. They were planning to head to Carcassonne, settle down there, and open a small business to make a living—yeah, being a merchant in Bretonnia was actually a pretty decent choice.

As long as you didn't become a peasant.

That said, walking along the countryside paths of Bretonnia really did put one in a good mood. Lush trees and meadows stretched out to either side, birds sang in the branches, and small animals darted about playfully. It really did look like a paradise on earth—especially after wading through lands cursed with filth and teeming with death.

But before long, they ran into a small unexpected incident.

(End of this chapter)