Matthew Bard finally met his end, with Ryan's psychic vortex devouring his soul, ensuring he would never rise again. All the souls he had summoned with his necromantic arts returned to death—every ghost, zombie, skeleton, and ghoul trembled as their resurrected bodies crumbled into dust.
It was a bitter and grueling battle. Ryan, heavily wounded, used the Sword of Vengeance as a crutch, panting heavily with a mind in turmoil.
Matthew Bard had indeed been powerful. His talents were exceptional, and he had received the best training. Arkhan had channeled the power of the Black Grail Knights back into him, rapidly elevating him to a Saint-level warrior.
If it hadn't been for Ryan's sudden inspiration, the battle might have continued for a long time, and the outcome would have remained uncertain.
Blood, huh? Ryan silently gazed at the corpse on the ground.
He knew the power contained in his own blood well, and as he looked at his wounds, he shook his head repeatedly.
This was an extraordinary measure for extraordinary times; it couldn't be used often. Using his own blood as a weapon or smearing it on weapons was something the Chaos Gods did, a tribute to Khorne, the Blood God. Doing this once or twice was excusable, but doing it regularly would eventually turn him into a chosen of Khorne.
Alternatively, if he constantly used his blood or treated it as a holy relic, he would become a Blood Angel, not a Grey Knight. Ryan had never liked the secretive initiation rituals of those guys, even if they were necessary.
The warning of the Black Rage.
In the distance, the Green Knight, Duke Bohemond, and Duke François led the remaining forces in a sweeping assault. The remaining human troops had long become a rabble. Ryan noticed King Richard charging madly, using the most brutal tactics, with every strike being a life-for-life exchange.
He sought death.
Ryan understood Richard's intention and chuckled, though the movement tugged at his wounds, making his smile appear particularly grim. It was clear that the old knight king wouldn't get his wish. With the Green Knight, François, and Bohemond leading the charge, those rabble troops stood no chance.
Moreover, Karad was unswervingly protecting Richard, ensuring the old king faced no danger. With such a powerful guardian, Richard couldn't find the death he sought. His face showed his frustration, unable to berate Karad and only able to kill enemies with all his might.
"Hahaha!" Ryan laughed heartily.
"You're laughing? Damn it, you're seriously injured!" The sorceress approached quickly, leaning on her staff. Dressed in black leather that accentuated her figure, Theresa's long legs moved swiftly as she hurried to Ryan's side. "Are you alright?"
"Don't worry, he won't die!" Veronica, clad in fiery red leather, was much less anxious than the sorceress. With a touch of mockery, she said, "This level of injury is far from enough to kill Ryan."
Despite her words, Veronica's eyes were full of concern. She tore her expensive dress, worth dozens of gold crowns, to bandage Ryan's wounds without hesitation.
"Nothing serious, a few days of rest will do." Ryan, covered in blood and looking rather battered, used the Sword of Vengeance to support himself. As the battle ended and he saw his two female retainers approaching, he couldn't help but tease, "Don't believe me? Come over tonight, and I'll show you my..."
"Shut up! Ryan, by Tal's teeth! What are you thinking about at a time like this?" Theresa scolded, clearly unhappy with Ryan's antics. Veronica, on the other hand, gave him a light slap on the shoulder, ready to speak when a sharp cry came from afar: "Oh no! No!"
Fiona, the granddaughter of Duke Theodoric of Brionne, ran over, lifting her skirt. She bypassed the fighting crowd, and the knights, recognizing her noble attire, moved aside to let her pass.
"Matthew Bard... no! No!" Fiona, holding her skirt, ran into the duel area, immediately spotting Matthew Bard's corpse and his head discarded on the ground.
Her face turned deathly pale as she slowly approached the body, kneeling beside it. "Matthew Bard? No, you can't die like this. You can't die like this! Our wedding... what about our wedding that you promised?!"
By the end, Fiona's tone and expression had turned hysterical as she shook Matthew Bard's headless body violently.
The beautiful noblewoman was now in tears, but her lover could no longer respond.
"Who's this woman?" Veronica instinctively regarded Fiona with extreme caution, her grip tightening on her Wand of Endynion. A standard fireball spell began to form, the fire element burning hot in the air.
Ryan laughed, motioning Veronica to relax. The chosen champion of the Lady of the Lake chuckled, "Don't worry, dear. Do you think I need help?"
Veronica nodded and stepped back. She had inexplicable confidence in Ryan. Despite Fiona being around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, neither Veronica, who was at the pinnacle of Legendary rank, nor Theresa, who was at a high Legendary rank, felt any pressure from her.
"What are you?" Fiona interrupted, lifting her head from Matthew Bard's body. "You're a murderer! Ryan-Malcador! You killed my fiancé; you destroyed my marriage!"
"If you say so." Ryan couldn't care less about Fiona's accusations. Instead, he looked at her like a child throwing a tantrum.
At this moment, what could this girl do to him?
After this champion duel, Ryan's momentum was like a raging sea, unstoppable in the entire knightly kingdom.
Gazing at Matthew Bard's corpse, Ryan sighed. He had been a worthy opponent. The duel with Matthew Bard had deepened Ryan's understanding of combat techniques and experience.
"Yes, you won. You completely won. No one in this kingdom can stop you now." Fiona's voice dripped with venom. "You have everything now. You're a duke, you have the legitimacy, you murderer. You've won everything you wanted. Are you satisfied? Are you happy?"
"I've lost everything. You took everything from me. You took my fiancé. Do you know we were about to get married?!" Fiona stood, hysterically shouting at Ryan: "You destroyed my happiness. Are you pleased?"
Fiona's outburst displeased Theresa and Veronica. They couldn't fathom how this noblewoman could say such things.
Did she not see the immense loss caused by Matthew Bard's rebellion? Thousands of knights and countless people had died. The kingdom had shed too much blood to resist him. Did she not understand?
"She doesn't care." Ryan shook his head, signaling Veronica and Theresa to hold back. "She only sees herself. That's how selfish people are."
Ryan turned his gaze to Fiona, smiling faintly. "Dear Fiona, do you think this is fun? Do you think your words will make me feel guilty? Do you think I'll sympathize with you?"
"You're mistaken. I almost laughed." Ryan said coldly, "Matthew Bard deserved to die. I carried out justice on behalf of the kingdom and the Lady. He and his ambitions are in hell. Simple as that."
Fiona's face twisted, her complexion turning from red to purple. "You... you... inhuman scum! Trash! Beast!"
The noblewoman quickly ran out of insults.
"Are you done?" Ryan squinted, sighing. "If you're finished, there's a room in the Goddess of Mercy's hospital for you to spend your days."
He signaled two kingdom knights standing guard to take Fiona away.
Ryan had never sympathized with Matthew Bard. He felt no pity for a traitor who chose to become a vampire.
He respected Matthew Bard's resolve and goals, recognizing him as a worthy opponent. In their duel, they respected each other, understanding that respecting an opponent meant respecting oneself. Matthew Bard earned that basic respect. His life was driven by revenge, his determination and persistence moving even Ryan. He was willing to sacrifice everything, even his humanity, for his revenge.
Thus, Ryan respected Matthew Bard by showing all his power and erasing the serpent from both the mortal world and the warp!
"No need." Fiona's lips bled black. "He's dead. I... don't want to live either... you all hate me... only Matthew Bard was good to me... only him..."
The girl lay atop Matthew Bard's body, seeking the last bit of warmth, and gradually stopped moving.
Ryan, Theresa, and Veronica watched in silence. The Duke of Mousilon observed Fiona's suicide. This noble girl had brought him much trouble and was despised for her selfishness and arrogance.
But faced with Matthew Bard's death, this selfish girl chose to die with him.
Human emotions are unpredictable, Ryan thought. Love is the most selfless thing, yet the conditions for it are the most selfish.
The sky was clear blue, with the battlefield still burning below. The remaining rabble had surrendered, and the knights were cleaning up. Matthew Bard's rebellion had ended, and the chaos and pain he brought to the knightly kingdom were over.
A new chapter in Brettonia's history had begun.
... I'm the dividing line in history ...
That evening, Ryan and his companions were settled in the palace of Couronne for rest.
The chosen champion of the Lady of the Lake was gravely injured, with his lung punctured, several broken ribs, and two shoulder wounds. He was arranged to recuperate, with the Lake Witch Morgiana applying ointment and bandages. She fed him porridge spoonful by spoonful, insisting he finish two bowls.
Morgiana had many duties and left after feeding him, leaving Veronica to talk with Ryan by his bedside.
"This room is truly luxurious," Veronica remarked, sitting in a plush chair by the bed. "Ah, if only my wizard tower were this lavish."
"You're dreaming," Ryan chuckled, leaning back against the soft pillows. "This is the result of centuries of accumulation."
The room was indeed opulent, almost to the point of excess. Supposedly, it had been reserved for Landuin himself, though later generations had clearly misunderstood the true essence of knighthood, seeking luxury and indulgence instead.
Veronica wore an elegant Élysée Angel Dream butterfly orchid dress, a low-cut gown with a high slit. A white silk ribbon was tied around her neck, adding a touch of ethereal charm. Her long, slender legs were encased in sheer white stockings, and she wore sapphire blue strap heels. Ryan couldn't help but admire the lace tops of her stockings peeking out from beneath her dress.
"Do you like it?" Veronica asked, noticing Ryan's gaze and smiling mischievously.
"Of course, I love it. You look beautiful in anything..." Ryan's eyes darkened with desire.
"Do you want to..."
"Knock, knock." The door interrupted them, and François's voice came from the hallway. "Ryan? Are you in there? May we come in?"
They quickly separated, and Ryan called out, "Come in."
François and Duke Bohemond entered the room, and Veronica stood to greet them. François acknowledged her with a nod, while Bohemond got straight to the point: "Ryan, there's an issue we need you to decide on."
"What issue?" Ryan knew it must be serious for the dukes to visit him together.
"King Richard says he is ready to abdicate," François explained. The older duke stroked his goatee, smiling elegantly. "He asked us to see if you're prepared as well. If you are, we can arrange the coronation while most of the dukes are still here."
Veronica's eyes sparkled at the thought of her man finally becoming king.
But to everyone's surprise, Ryan shook his head after a moment's thought. "No, I can't become king yet. Not for another two or three years. Please inform Richard that I must decline the throne for now."
The new Duke of Mousilon's face darkened.
"The conditions for becoming king have not yet been met!" Ryan added firmly.
François and Bohemond exchanged glances, taken aback by Ryan's refusal. Bohemond, known for his fiery temper, was the first to speak up. "What conditions are you referring to, Ryan? You've already proven yourself as a leader and warrior. The people are ready to follow you."
Ryan sighed, knowing he had to be clear. "There are still threats to this kingdom that need to be dealt with. The vampire counts in Sylvania, the greenskins in the mountains, and the lurking dangers within our own borders. If I ascend the throne now, I'll be confined to court politics and ceremonies. I need time to secure our land and ensure the safety of our people. Only then can I be the king this kingdom deserves."
François nodded slowly, understanding Ryan's reasoning. "You have a point. The responsibilities of a king go beyond leading armies and fighting battles. Very well, we will inform Richard of your decision."
Bohemond grumbled but eventually conceded. "Fine. But don't keep us waiting too long. This kingdom needs a strong leader now more than ever."
"I understand," Ryan replied, his tone resolute. "I will continue to fight for Brettonia and prepare for the day when I can truly lead as king."
With that, François and Bohemond left the room, leaving Ryan and Veronica alone once more. Veronica looked at Ryan with a mix of pride and concern. "You're making the right choice, but it's not an easy one."
Ryan reached out, taking her hand in his. "Nothing worthwhile ever is. But with you by my side, I know we can face whatever challenges come our way."
Veronica smiled, leaning in to kiss him gently. "We'll face them together."
As the night settled over Couronne, Ryan knew that his journey was far from over. The road ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but he was determined to see it through. For his kingdom, for his people, and for those he loved, he would not rest until Brettonia was safe and prosperous.
And so, the new chapter in Brettonia's history began, with Ryan and his loyal companions ready to face whatever trials lay ahead.
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