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Meanwhile, the empire was plunging headlong into absurd chaos.

The beginning of the incident was like this.

In mid-July, in the historic city of Regensburg, where the ancient electoral ceremony had been held, seven electors had gathered to elect the next Kaiser, the Griffin King.

The Lord of the North and Grand Master of the Livonian Order of the Sword, the Margrave of Brandenburg.

The Kaiser’s younger brother, ruling the Duchy of Saxe-Wittenberg in Oster Saxony.

The Kaiser’s cousin, ruling the Duchy of Saxe-Ostermark in Lower Saxony.

The Imperial Treasurer and Count Palatine of the Rhine, overseeing the Rhine River that runs through the empire.

The Duke of Bavaria, the most devout ruler of the noble duchy, also serving as the Imperial Foreign Minister.

The Duke of Bohemia, the most valiant ruler of the strong duchy, also serving as the Imperial War Minister.

And the Kaiser’s cousin, the Imperial Justice Minister, the Archduke of Austria.

Each of these electors, representing the empire without fail, gathered in the city of Regensburg, creating an indescribable tension and a strangely excited atmosphere.

People thought that with such noble figures gathered in this historic city, they would surely elect a wise ruler to lead the next generation of the empire. The peace and prosperity of the Holy Roman Empire would continue. Such vague expectations and hopes filled the hearts of the citizens.

However, the optimistic expectations and hopes of the citizens were soon betrayed in the worst possible way.

On his way to Regensburg for the electoral ceremony, the Count Palatine of the Rhine was attacked by a suspicious group.

“Who are you?”

“Hmph, it doesn’t matter. Just die here.”

“What? …No, it doesn’t matter. Seeing that you all hide your faces with hoods and masks, you must be those who cannot reveal yourselves. I will capture you and uncover your secrets.”

Although caught off guard by the unexpected attack, the Count Palatine of the Rhine, as a skilled swordsman, was confident in his abilities. He was determined to subdue the attackers and uncover their secrets.

But the result was devastating.

A few days later, those gathered in Regensburg searched for the missing Count Palatine of the Rhine and found a shocking scene.

It was the aftermath of a fierce battle, with the Count Palatine’s body beheaded and his hands and feet nailed to an X-shaped cross.

+++++

With questions and confusion left unanswered, the electoral ceremony proceeded with only six electors, one short.

Three candidates stood for the position of the Griffin King.

The current Kaiser’s eldest son, Count Friedrich Konrat Rotbart von Schwaben Hohenstaufen.

Friedrich’s sister’s husband, Count Einolf Ernst von Lucerne Württemberg.

The Kaiser’s cousin, Count Franz von Hessen-Kassel Albrecht, husband of the Kaiser’s much older sister.

Coincidentally, Count Friedrich of Schwaben, Count Einolf of Lucerne, and Count Franz of Hessen-Kassel were all connected to the royal families of Caledonia, Franquia, and Rotaringia, respectively. Thus, the election to decide the empire’s throne was essentially a battle of pride among the three powerful royal families.

The situation among the electors was also complex. The Margrave of Brandenburg, traditionally commanding the front lines against the Kalmar Union’s expansion, sought to use Caledonia’s power to counter the Kalmar.

The Duke of Bavaria, bordering Franquia, naturally wanted to avoid Count Lucerne becoming Kaiser. The Duke of Bohemia, bordering Rotaringia, was in a position to prevent Count Hessen-Kassel’s rise.

Amidst these private and familial ties and the complex power dynamics within and outside the empire, the six electors’ votes resulted in a 2:2:2 deadlock, leaving many in a quandary.

Ultimately, the unresolved election was postponed indefinitely, pending a decision by the princes’ council to determine the value of each elector’s vote. However, expecting a smooth resolution was difficult.

The number of influential princes in the empire was enormous. Excluding knights with manors, wealthy city nobles, and court nobles serving various principalities, the number of feudal lords and city mayors alone exceeded hundreds.

If they all acted according to their own interests, it would take an eternity for the princes’ council to reach any meaningful decision.

The problem was that the empire had no time to wait.

Amidst heightened suspicion and distrust following the assassination of the Count Palatine of the Rhine, the tangled web of personal interests and pride left the political situation strained, eroding people’s reason and patience.

By late July to early August, the first official clash occurred.

The trigger was the death of the Count of Düsseldorf without an heir. The last lord of the La Marck family, ruling the Düsseldorf region on the east bank of the Rhine, died, leading to a conflict between the Wittelsbach and Neuburg families over the succession.

Normally, the Kaiser would have mediated through the electors’ council or the imperial diet, but the Kaiser was now bedridden and unconscious, and the Griffin King had yet to be elected. The electors were also one short, unable to fill the vacancy.

In this unprecedented power vacuum, the lesser princes had two choices: rely on a stronger power or seek self-reliance.

Amidst the rumors surrounding the Count Palatine’s death, the Wittelsbach and Neuburg families, divided in their support and alignment, escalated their conflict from skirmishes to full-scale war.

“Rotaringia’s western lackeys!”

“Franquia’s eastern bumpkins!”

With mutual hostility, the two families mobilized their forces, totaling about 3,000 troops. The war soon drew in others, like Vienna sausages being pulled into a swamp.

First, the Duchy of Bohemia and Bavaria and their supporters intervened. Then, the Dukes of Saxe-Wittenberg and Saxe-Ostermark, dividing Saxony, began to support their respective allies.

As the anti-Franquia and anti-Rotaringia factions clashed, the Margrave of Brandenburg and the northern lords, eyeing an alliance with Caledonia, had their own dreams.

The Margrave of Brandenburg wanted to replace the deceased Count Palatine and become a key figure in the next Kaiser’s election, seeking the rich Silesia region as a reward.

Meanwhile, the northern cities of the Hanseatic League sought to monopolize the salt trade from Salzburg.

Originally, the salt trade involved the imperial highways near the Autobahn and the middle and upper Rhine regions. For the Hanseatic cities downstream, the middlemen’s margins were a thorn in their side.

The empire-wide stagnation was a trial for the commercial cities, but they also saw it as an opportunity. They decided to join forces with the Margrave of Brandenburg to achieve their goals.

However, the other factions’ reactions to the Margrave and the Hanseatic cities’ demands were cold.

“Profiteers chasing profit over the greater good!”

“Wasn’t aligning with the island nation enough?”

Of course, it was natural. Silesia, demanded by Brandenburg, was a rich region, contributing 20% of the Hohenstaufen family’s revenue.

If their faction’s Kaiser emerged, that revenue would go to the Kaiser. No one would easily give it up, even in a politically and militarily tense situation.

The Hanseatic cities’ demand for the salt trade monopoly was met with even fiercer opposition. Those profiting from the Autobahn and Rhine trade routes, whether anti-Franquia or anti-Rotaringia, were numerous.

Meanwhile, the Archduke of Austria, another elector supporting Count Friedrich of Schwaben with Caledonia’s backing, was furious at Brandenburg’s defection.

“An honorless fool from the borderlands! Count Friedrich, the rightful heir, is not only a wise ruler but also a man of unblemished honor under the Walong Law. How dare you betray the greater cause now?”

Brandenburg and the Hanseatic cities’ shift was a thunderbolt to Friedrich’s supporters.

With their backs against the wall, they sent envoys to persuade Brandenburg and the Hanseatic cities. However, the Margrave’s ambition for Silesia and the Hanseatic cities’ desire for the salt trade were not easily replaceable.

In this complex web of interests, while the anti-Franquia and anti-Rotaringia factions clashed in the south, the Archduke of Austria’s central imperial faction and the Margrave of Brandenburg’s northern faction collided in the north.

If the Church had not urged restraint on foreign interference in the empire’s internal affairs, Franquia, Rotaringia, and Caledonia would have surely intervened. Even the hostile Mezerolsag and the dual kingdom of Lechitz-Lietuva were amassing forces near the border, watching for an opportunity.

And amidst this turmoil, evil began to stir in the shadows.

+++++

Seven days and nights after the first official battle.

In the quiet village of Ratingen near Düsseldorf, a once idyllic village of farmers and shepherds was now a dead village. The Wittelsbach and Neuburg armies had passed through, conscripting and requisitioning twice, followed by marauding deserters.

A group of about a dozen men entered the desolate village. Their faces were weary, but their eyes glinted with the dangerous madness of those who had seen blood.

They were armed with quilted or chainmail armor, carrying bows, spears, and crossbows. Their mismatched gear suggested they were not regular troops but likely deserters with looted equipment.

“Damn, I thought we could make a quick buck in this village, but it’s empty? Looks like others got here first.”

“Stupid fools, they should have left something for us. What’s left for us now?”

Initially excited, they soon grumbled at the lifeless village.

But it couldn’t be helped. Deserters like them were common in Düsseldorf. As the empire-wide conflict escalated, such men would soon roam everywhere.

“Well, nothing we can do. At least the buildings are intact. Let’s stay here tonight and move on tomorrow. It’s late.”

Kicking aside a corpse, a bearded deserter spoke. The others agreed, gathering the bodies and choosing buildings to sleep in.

Though just humble huts, sleeping indoors was better than the open road. Finding no loot, they consoled themselves with a place to rest.

That night, the piled-up corpses outside the village began to twitch. Soon, nearly a hundred staggering shadows moved through the village.

Shouts and the clash of weapons echoed from the huts. Before long, the staggering shadows added more to their ranks.

+++++

About two weeks later, as chaos spread across the empire, the city of Hanover remained peacefully untouched.

If non-imperial observers wondered how a single city could remain peaceful amidst empire-wide turmoil, they would find that in the empire’s federated structure, even during a civil war, some regions could maintain neutrality and peace.

Moreover, while Hanover was an important transport hub for iron and silver from the northern Harz Mountains, it was not the only route.

With decent defensive capabilities, capturing Hanover would be costly, and the military and economic benefits of doing so were relatively low. Thanks to competent leadership, Hanover maintained its neutrality and peace.

But that was the limit of Hanover’s capabilities.

The empire’s economic stagnation caused essential goods like food and necessities to be blocked, cut off, or halted everywhere.

Normally, if a regional conflict disrupted supply routes, finding alternative sources would suffice. Competent leaders could find solutions despite difficulties.

But with the entire empire in bloody chaos, Hanover’s leaders had no clear solution.

“A disaster. The festival is approaching, and the food situation is dire. What can we do?”

“Indeed, it’s a disaster. We’ve been reaching out, but no one is willing to trade.”

“Even if they agree, transporting the goods here in this chaos is another problem.”

With the traditional quadrennial festival approaching, the city’s leaders were in agony. Missing this festival would mean waiting another four years, deeply disappointing the citizens. For elected leaders, this was no trivial matter.

As they struggled with the problem, a caravan arrived from the south, requesting entry to Hanover. The caravan carried grain and other essential goods.

“The gods have blessed us! We must see if we can purchase their goods!”

The city leaders quickly acted, persuading the caravan bound for the Duke of Swabia to sell most of their goods to Hanover.

The festival was four days away. Thanks to the timely supply, the city decided to proceed as planned.

As the date approached, Hanover’s streets buzzed with festive excitement. Unlike other regions filled with blood, filth, and fire, Hanover, spared from war by capable leaders, enjoyed peace and revelry.

Delicious food was prepared, and essential goods were distributed freely. Citizens, freed from tightened belts, roamed the streets, enjoying the festival’s offerings.

Laughter, cheers, and music filled the festival for seven days and nights. But after the festival, the city faced a new crisis. Black spots, high fever, and rashes appeared, followed by death. The dead rose, attacking the living.

Within ten days, Hanover became a city of the undead.

 

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