The knights who departed took more than just their retainers; they also drained the morale from Matthew Bard's army.
Soon after, the appearance of the Green Knight caused panic within Matthew Bard's ranks. The rogue knights, rebellious serfs, and vile bandits that had gathered under Bard's banner could not help but feel a deep sense of fear at the sight of the Green Knight.
The legend of the Green Knight is a well-known myth to every Bretanian. When this embodiment of chivalric virtue appeared, radiating green light, the hearts of all Bretanian knights filled with unparalleled excitement, while those following Bard were engulfed in fear.
The Green Knight, mounted on a green steed, rode out from the army and spoke.
"Lawen-Leon-Cornwall's son, from the very beginning, you were shrouded in lies. You once possessed noble virtues and exceptional skills, but you failed to use them in the right way. Hatred and falsehoods have blinded you. Because of you, countless lives have been lost, and many knights have sacrificed their lives to stop you. You cannot be forgiven," the Green Knight said slowly. "The only way to save you is to completely destroy you. I hereby declare that you are stripped of all Bretanian titles and citizenship. You are no longer a part of this country."
The Green Knight's proclamation caused a commotion within Bard's army.
The rogue knights, rebellious serfs, and bandits began to feel fear and doubt.
Matthew Bard had always claimed to be the son of Duke Lawen, the kingdom's regent, the Duke of Connet, and the rightful Duke of Mousillon. It was these titles and promises that had drawn people to him.
But today's developments terrified them and made them feel betrayed. The true Duke of Mousillon was Ryan, not Bard, and the Green Knight's words destroyed the validity of Bard's claims.
If he had lost his Bretanian citizenship, how could he become king? How could he fulfill his promises?
Some began to retreat.
Bard's army had formed quickly because he could make grand promises, attracting opportunists. In this dark age, there were always those seeking higher status and more power.
However, these people came as quickly as they went. When there were benefits, they swarmed like sharks to blood. But knowing Bard could no longer deliver, they would not risk their lives for his revenge.
Matthew Bard sensed all this. Confusion filled his mind, his heart burned with the flames of revenge, nearly driving him mad.
He couldn't understand why this kingdom still existed, why the false chivalry and the elf goddess's false faith persisted, and why so many knights were willing to die for them.
Anger blazed in his heart. Bard knew he had to act, or his army would collapse. The Serpent of Mousillon drew his Serpent Sword from his waist.
"Ha! Very well!" Bard laughed wildly. "It seems we agree on one thing: one of us must die. The difference is whether we fall, or you become my servants."
"Send out your champion!" Bard's eyes swept over the Bretanian chivalric army, filled with an indescribable emotion. The Serpent of Mousillon knew that forcing a battle with shaky morale was unwise. But he also knew the Bretanians wouldn't refuse a challenge. According to chivalric spirit, knights must accept a duel if the status and timing were right.
He raised his Serpent Sword, pointing it at the chivalric army. "I demand a champion duel! Send out your champion for a true duel! Only the victor deserves this country!"
Bard's arrogant challenge angered many knights, but most could only glare in rage. The serpent had completed over thirty duels on his way to Curona, defeating more than thirty kingdom knights, questing knights, and even Holy Grail knights.
Fully integrating the powers of the Black Grail Knight, Bard now stood solidly at mid-Sanctuary level, a formidable opponent not easily challenged. Facing him now would be akin to seeking humiliation and death.
All eyes turned to the center of the army.
Under these circumstances, there were only four potential representatives for Bretania.
The Lady of the Lake's chosen champion, Ryan-Macado.
The Knight King Richard.
The direct descendant of the first Knight King Arthur, the esteemed Duke Berhemond of the Red Dragon.
And the mysterious Green Knight.
Richard was automatically excluded. In his youth, he was a valiant knight, but now he was too old. Many knights doubted he could withstand a single blow from Bard.
Richard, aware of this, subtly shook his head at Ryan, indicating it was all up to him.
Similarly, Berhemond shook his head. Though the Red Dragon Duke wanted to crush Bard, he controlled himself, knowing it was inappropriate.
Thus, only two candidates remained.
The Green Knight spoke, his voice like a dream within a fantasy. "Landuin's successor, champion of the Lady, it is time to end this."
"Indeed, it is time to end this." Ryan confidently rode out. The Duke of Mousillon accepted the challenge without dispute.
He would face Matthew Bard.
As he rode forward, Ryan received the knights' cheers. The will of the Lady's chosen champion was unbeatable, his authority unquestionable. The light and warmth of miracles illuminated his handsome face, his middle-parted black hair gently swaying in the breeze.
Ryan also preferred not to decide victory through a large battle outside Curona. Bard's demand for a champion duel was exactly what he wanted.
Now, the two stood face to face, dismounted, at the bank of the Sarnes River. Ryan and Bard had first met on the way to a banquet in Bordeleaux, eight years ago.
The river flowed, the fields covered in grass and wildflowers. Before the two armies, Ryan and Bard finally stood face to face. Ryan gripped the Vengeance Goddess. "We meet again."
The wind blew, the water flowed, the wind stopped, but the water's sound remained.
"Yes, we meet again. I always felt we were alike," Bard smiled faintly, his handsome face unhelmeted, staring at Ryan. The Serpent of Mousillon seemed calm. "Don't you think?"
"No," Ryan shook his head. "You are a disgrace to chivalry."
"Really? Is that what you think?" Bard moved sideways, smiling. "I think we're alike. Both abandoned children. You were left in the icy wilderness of Nord, and I was left on the desolate road to Curona."
"You were lucky. Lord Norman of Outremer found and adopted you, naming you Ryan. I was also lucky. The Lich King Arkhan found and named me Bard."
"We both grew up in these environments. You became a White Wolf Knight of Nord, and I a wandering knight of the Duchy of Connet. We both fought our way up. You made your name in the harsh lands of Nord through your valor, and I earned the title of Holy Knight with my skills and so-called virtues."
"Yes, in that sense, we are alike," Ryan admitted, gripping the hilt of the Vengeance Goddess. "But you eventually strayed."
"In your eyes, strayed?" Bard gripped his Serpent Sword. He seemed unwilling to argue further, continuing, "Before I met you, I believed I should be the protagonist of this story. I saw through your goddess's true nature. I learned everything. My godfather told me my heritage. From then on, I vowed revenge on this country. I must save it from a grand lie. This is my vengeance."
Ryan's heart stirred. He understood how Bard had uncovered the true identity of the Lady of the Lake—it was Arkhan's doing. But he cleverly said, "Your way of saving this country was to approach Sulia, then participate in the knight tournament?"
"That was just part of the plan." Bard nodded. "Pursuing Sulia wasn't necessary, but it greatly aided my plan. I considered many things. For a great noble lady like Sulia, pursuing her wasn't easy. As a duke's daughter, she had high standards. I had to seize the rare opportunity."
"So you joined the knight tournament." Ryan understood. "Winning the tournament's crown was one of the few ways to impress Sulia. You knew that."
"But you ruined everything," Bard's eyes turned venomous, his tone filled with deep hatred. "You met Sulia before me and impressed her first. If you hadn't been severely injured in your battle against the Nurgle Great Demon, Sulia wouldn't have been pushed to her limits and defeated me."
"So, it's my fault?" Ryan remained calm, signaling Bard to continue.
"After that, you repeatedly thwarted my plans, ruining the intricate schemes my godfather and I designed. It's all because of you!" Bard knew Ryan was renowned for his unwavering will and pious faith. Words alone wouldn't shake him. "But now, none of that matters. I will defeat you here, enter Curona, and expose that whore's lie in the Holy Grail Cathedral! I swear it!"
"Even now, you remain deluded," Ryan sighed. "Have you ever considered that being adopted by Arkhan was never a coincidence? He's using you, your bloodline, your hatred, and your strength?"
"Of course I know." Bard's resolve remained unshaken by Ryan's words. He chuckled. "My godfather is very purposeful. All his actions serve his master. Yes, he may be using me, but without him, I'd have died in the wilderness. He raised me. I'm grateful. Compared to that man, it was my godfather who saved me. Everything I have is because of him. I'm willing to be used, as it
means I have value. I seek revenge on that man and to expose the kingdom's lie. I willingly let my godfather use me."
Ryan knew Bard referred to his father, Lawen, who was critically injured and missing.
"I always believed being used means I have worth, and that's enough." Black deathly aura emanated from Bard, having fully absorbed the powers, skills, and experiences of the Black Grail Knights. "I can't wait any longer. Everything I do is for revenge. Without my godfather's help, how long would it take to amass the power for my revenge? He gave me this chance."
"Who are you to criticize me, Ryan Macado?" Bard's tone turned playful. "Without that whore's help at critical moments, you might have lost that championship duel. Look at you now. Without her full support, could you have advanced your reforms so smoothly? Could you have become a duke in just ten years?"
"No one is more righteous than the other, Ryan." Bard summarized coldly, his voice becoming sinister. "In the end, we all become what we once hated."
"Serpent," Ryan sighed after hearing Bard's words. "You're not likable... Yet somehow, not entirely hateful. Yes, we are alike, but we stand on different sides."
The Vengeance Goddess slowly unsheathed, silver flames burning in the air.
"This is Lord Landuin's final wish..."
"I must pull Mousillon and Bretania back from the abyss of the undead." The blade turned, shimmering with pale blue light.
"So, serpent, I must kill you! Enough talk, fight!"
"Yes, fight!"
With simultaneous roars, Ryan and Bard charged at each other, the clash of the Vengeance Goddess and the Serpent Sword ringing out!
The battle for the throne had begun!
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