Old World, Bretonnia, Duchy of Mousillon, Geneville, Ryan's ducal castle, Winterveil Festival.
After the great battle of Nuln, Ryan had planned to take a break and focus on rebuilding Mousillon, understanding that development was the key to stability. However, life seldom goes as one imagines, and just when Ryan wanted to enjoy a peaceful year, Mousillon was suddenly thrown into turmoil.
The unrest began at the canal construction site in Mousillon. The workers, upon hearing about the Old Guard medal ceremony, went on strike, demanding change, better benefits, more vacation time, and higher pay. They even demanded the formation of a union. As a result, the planned canal project connecting the Sauné River in Couronne directly to the Grismerie River came to a halt, just 50 kilometers from its goal.
Ryan was forced to immediately dispatch negotiators to the workers, only to be shocked by their demands—equal pay, minimum working hours, and more. Ryan wondered how these workers could come up with such ideas. Did they think this was a different era where everyone had meat to eat and didn't have to fight Chaos? It was already generous to provide food and some wages for canal workers. What more could they want?
Ryan sensed something was amiss and immediately sent people to infiltrate the workers and begin an investigation.
Sure enough, there were Chaos cultists among the canal workers, organized under the leadership of a secret leader from the "Purple Hand" cult.
The Purple Hand was one of Tzeentch's Chaos cults, and one of the largest in the Old World. After receiving a divine oracle from Tzeentch, this cult followed Imperial immigrants to Mousillon, secretly recruiting followers. They carefully concealed their presence and could have remained hidden for decades if not for Tzeentch's oracle.
By the time Ryan discovered the cult's influence, the Chaos followers had grown to number in the thousands, establishing branches in several baronies of the Duchy of Mousillon, and even within the city itself. When Baron Lucien of Spirehall led troops to suppress them, the Tzeentch cultists managed to summon a Tzeentch daemon, momentarily repelling Lucien's forces. It wasn't until reinforcements arrived that the cult was completely eradicated.
By this time, the situation had escalated significantly. The once-stable industrial belt along the river that Ryan had painstakingly built in Mousillon now showed signs of instability. Ryan had no choice but to assemble a standing army of 3,000 troops, along with the Old Guard, to march on Mousillon and eliminate the Chaos cult. Teresa accompanied the army.
No matter how powerful the Chaos cultists were, they were no match for Ryan. Within two weeks, Ryan had relatively easily uprooted all the Purple Hand cult's newly established strongholds in Mousillon, at least on the surface, erasing any trace of the Chaos cult's presence.
Unexpectedly, despite the extensive support Tzeentch had provided to the Purple Hand—including divine powers, revelations, and even daemons—the Chaos God quickly abandoned its followers once Ryan appeared, pretending nothing had happened and giving Ryan no chance to retaliate.
The most nauseating part came afterward.
First, since the Purple Hand had spread from Imperial immigrants, the native Mousillon population suffered greatly. This immediately undid half of Ryan's efforts to foster harmony and integration between Mousillon's natives and the Imperial immigrants. In areas most affected by Chaos corruption and sabotage, tensions flared between the locals and immigrants after Ryan's army left. Only Ryan's personal prestige kept things from escalating, but restoring mutual trust and cooperation would take much longer.
This deeply disgusted Ryan. The delay in the canal project was frustrating but tolerable. However, the erosion of trust between people was much harder to restore, and the rebuilding of Mousillon urgently needed the help of Imperial immigrants. It was as if Ryan had been painstakingly building a tower of blocks, only for Tzeentch to come along and knock it down with a smirk before vanishing.
Worse still, the kingdom's noble opposition soon followed.
The conservative nobles of Bretonnia seized the opportunity to vehemently oppose Ryan's reforms in the royal court, particularly his promotion of knights from the ranks of serfs, the proposed serf land redemption system, and the industrial development along the Grismerie River. The conservative nobles, led by Duke Talbot of Le-Angouleme, Duke Ford of Montfort, and Duke Casvain of Parravon, argued that Ryan's measures would not only fail to change Bretonnia but also invite disaster and the attention of Chaos Gods. They insisted that serfs should remain serfs and nobles should remain nobles, as it had always been in Bretonnia. After all, if serfs stopped farming, who would work the land?
The situation was particularly frustrating for Laun, who was overseeing the kingdom's affairs in Couronne. The old king Richard, who was about to retire, unexpectedly came to Ryan's aid. Richard had Laun reject the opposition's complaints, reasoning that Ryan was only implementing these reforms within his duchy and his father-in-law François's duchy, without imposing them on other duchies. As such, the regent of the kingdom had no authority to intervene.
Richard's solution was clumsy but effective. Ryan was initially surprised that the old king was willing to speak up for him, but he quickly realized that Richard was hedging his bets. If Duke Talbot had supported Ryan, Richard would have likely opposed him instead.
Duke Bodric of Bordeleaux, Duke François of Winford, and Duke Hubald of Carcassonne naturally supported Ryan. The kingdom's regent, Duke Laun of Connétable, and Duke Adahad of Lyonace covertly expressed their support but made it clear they wouldn't openly back him.
Other dukes were still on the fence, observing the situation. They saw both the unrest in Ryan's lands and the vitality brought by the reforms. The most conflicted was Duke Berchmond of Bastogne, who, as the most direct descendant of Arthur, was displeased with Ryan's constant changes. However, he couldn't ignore the positive changes Ryan had brought to his lands, especially since Kalad was Devonshire's godfather. After much deliberation, Berchmond decided to wait and see but had already begun forming his elite infantry regiment, the "Red Dragon Guard."
The fierce opposition and backlash from the conservative nobles left Ryan deeply troubled. While these opponents couldn't derail his plans, they could refuse to cooperate.
All they needed to do was oppose him, while Ryan had to solve countless problems, all while under the scrutiny of many eyes, waiting for the slightest mistake to pounce on.
Is Ryan powerful?
He is indeed strong. He holds many titles: the uncorrupted Primarch of the Grey Knights, the noble Son of the Emperor, the Lady of the Lake's chosen champion, the Duke of Mousillon, the perfect knight who embodies the Eight Virtues, the Grandmaster of the Holy Grail Knights, and even a traveler from another world. He has, in practice, gained control of the nation, and his various identities and immense prestige have given him the means to realize his ideals.
Yet, despite all this, the recent series of events had left him with a pounding headache.
Clearly, Tzeentch had played its part in orchestrating these events. The Chaos God didn't aim to defeat Ryan but merely to disgust him. And it had succeeded—this bout of harassment had left Ryan deeply frustrated.
As Ryan prepared to return to Geneville, his face was clouded with dark energy, and his expression was one of palpable annoyance.
"What's wrong, Ryan? I've rarely seen you like this," asked the sorceress Teresa, who found Ryan's demeanor quite amusing.
For this campaign to suppress the Chaos cult in Mousillon, Ryan needed magical assistance. Sulia and Sylvia were both preoccupied with Devonshire, Olica was busy with an important magical experiment, and Veronica was in seclusion, attempting to reach the Sanctuary level. In the end, Teresa accompanied him.
"Too many troubling matters," Ryan said, shaking his head in frustration. Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, settling on his head. The Duke of Mousillon, dressed in full ducal regalia, looked grim. "I must admit, Tzeentch really got under my skin this time. Just thinking about the mountain of tasks ahead gives me a headache. Next fall, on the Lady of the Lake's Day, I will ascend the throne in Couronne as the next Knight King. But when I think about the countless things that need to be done…"
Teresa could sense Ryan's frustration, though she wasn't skilled in offering comfort. After a moment's thought, she decided to tease him instead. "What's this? Our great hero, the Duke of Geneville, renowned throughout the Old World, is troubled by worldly affairs?"
"I'm a normal man too," Ryan said, casting a sidelong glance at Teresa. Her teasing had momentarily lightened his mood, allowing him to set aside his frustrations. "Otherwise, I should just find a Grail Chapel, stay inside, pray when there's nothing to do, and fight when there is."
"That won't do! If you did that, I'd have to become a nun," Teresa pouted. Although she knew Ryan was only joking, she was still slightly displeased. Due to her busy schedule and magical studies, she and Ryan were often apart. Having finally found an opportunity to spend time together, the sorceress wasn't thrilled to hear Ryan make such remarks.
"Wouldn't that be something, Sister Teresa? Hahaha~" Ryan laughed.
Though she didn't understand what Ryan found so amusing, Teresa instinctively rolled her eyes at him. She knew Ryan was likely thinking
something inappropriate; it was a woman's intuition. "You're definitely up to something weird again, aren't you?"
Today, the sorceress was dressed in a black swan high-collar witch's robe. Her long, slender legs were clad in tight brown riding pants and black high-heeled boots. Since their return, she had slightly trimmed her glowing black hair, shortening it from waist-length to back-length. Her butterfly-patterned black glasses remained unchanged. Clutching the reins of the horse Ryan had given her, she sat atop a half-elf warhorse. Having such a mount was a prestigious symbol among the Garland Council, and Teresa had named the horse "Laurel." Laurel was often borrowed by her fellow witches for breeding, but their attempts had been unsuccessful, leaving them with only the smell of the stable on their clothes.
Ryan led his 3,000 troops onward, crossing the Grismerie River before dusk and entering Bastogne. The army approached a village where they prepared to make camp, replenishing their supplies from the local serfs.
The village in Bastogne couldn't accommodate so many troops, but when the locals heard that a Grail Knight was among them, they all rushed out to witness the spectacle and were willing to sell some of their surplus grain to Ryan's army. Many serfs seized the opportunity to sell their produce and livestock, earning a small bag of silver coins. The village elder offered the best house in the village for Ryan and his companions to stay in.
After settling in, Ryan and Teresa entered the large house. The Old Guard and knight attendants had already laid out carpets in the inner chamber. With some time before dinner, the two looked around the simple interior and dim lighting, exchanging a knowing smile.
Fourteen years ago, after leaving the Nord capital, they had also arrived at a village, where they shared a candlelit dinner and talked late into the night. Teresa, with her boots on, crossed her long legs and leaned back in her chair. "You know, this doesn't feel so bad."
"What doesn't feel so bad? This simple environment?" Ryan asked with a smile, sitting on the bed. Fourteen years ago, he had nothing but a knight's title and a set of armor. Fourteen years later, he was a hero known across the world. The idea of embarking on another adventure with Teresa seemed almost impossible now.
"Simple environment?" Teresa looked around the room nostalgically. The wooden walls weren't particularly sturdy and occasionally let in drafts, but she found it all strangely comforting. The sorceress touched the table, the walls, and didn't mind that her gloves got dusty. "But I find it very warm, warmer than my bedroom in the Wizard's Tower."
"And why is that?" Ryan asked, understanding her sentiment.
"Why? Do I need a reason?" Teresa stood up from her chair and walked over to Ryan, sitting down next to him and gazing at his increasingly mature face. "Wherever you are is warm."
"Teresa…" Ryan took the sorceress's hand. He was about to say something when Teresa closed her eyes.
"Alright." Ryan closed his eyes as well, and they leaned closer.
Just then, the sound of footsteps outside the room made them quickly pull apart.
"Teresa, Ryan?" Aurora's voice came from the other side of the door.
The Sanctuary Sorceress was dressed in a floral mahogany-brown, belted, slit dress. Beneath the skirt, a glimpse of her leg wrapped in sheer black stockings and a pair of nude strappy heels with a butterfly bow on the back of the heel could be seen. Her elegant demeanor and stunning beauty filled the room as she opened the door. Initially, she seemed somewhat impatient, but upon seeing her daughter and Ryan, she immediately understood what was going on. Blushing slightly, Aurora coughed softly. "Dinner's ready. You should… eat first. There's no need to rush…"
"Mother, we were just…" Teresa's face turned crimson as she quickly stood up. "We were just talking!"
"Talking?" Aurora glanced at the bed, deciding not to argue with Teresa. "Alright, whether you're talking or planning something else, let's have dinner first."
"… Let's go, Ryan." Teresa, too embarrassed to continue, quickly stood up.
Ryan could only follow them to dinner.
Damn, I forgot she was coming along!
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