Chapter 206: The Strength of the Chosen Champion

"A very young knight," Morgiana observed, watching Konir intently. "For such a young knight to be promoted to commander, he must possess extraordinary abilities."

"Yes, indeed. I didn't expect this youngster to have grown so much," Ryan commented, his eyes reflecting a hint of nostalgia as he observed Konir, whose face still bore the soft fuzz of youth.

In the White Wolf Knights, there was no concept of nepotism. For Yurik, the only worthy qualities of a White Wolf Knight were ferocity, rashness, and a bit of the cunning of a wolf. Glory could only be proved by earning sufficient military merits and spoils of war to present at Yurik's temple.

Yurik also emphasized the importance of close combat, so White Wolf Knights never equipped themselves with ranged weapons. Moreover, carrying a shield into battle was seen as cowardly, leading many to forsake helmets and shields. They would proudly chant Yurik's name and charge head-on into battle.

Ryan initially struggled to adapt to this, but when he saw a White Wolf Knight shout Yurik's name, disregarding a volley of arrows to crush a Chaos warrior's skull with his warhammer, he understood this was a world driven by ideals. Thus, Ryan also started to shout the Emperor's name in his heart before battles, significantly enhancing his combat abilities.

A cold breeze swept through the arena, fluttering Aldred's red lion cape and Konir's white wolf pelt. Aldred, as the Duke's son, also received twenty minutes of rest, during which he drank a whole bottle of wine in one go, followed by a loud belch, seemingly invigorating him further.

The fight resumed.

Konir raised his warhammer, and as he gripped it tighter, a violent and angry will began to manifest.

Aldred, his face flushed with the warmth of wine, looked like an enraged lion: "For the Lady!"

"For Yurik!" Konir's momentum built like a great wolf hunting in the cold northern forests, baring its sharp fangs.

"White Wolf's Battle Fervor!" Ryan murmured from the stands.

Konir attacked first, with swift movements and his silver skull warhammer shining brilliantly. He aimed directly at Aldred's left shoulder with a tricky maneuver.

Aldred instantly realized Konir's intention. The angle of Konir's warhammer made it difficult to block with his usual shield technique. If he retracted the shield, he would lose the initiative.

Aldred roared like a lion. Not retreating, he advanced with his sword tracing a beautiful arc towards Konir's chest.

"For Yurik!" Their weapons collided almost simultaneously. Konir's warhammer struck Aldred's shoulder, while Aldred's sword cut through Konir's armor and flesh.

Both warriors recoiled, their minor wounds igniting their knightly fervor.

"By the Lady!" Aldred bellowed. His sword and shield attack was like a lion's pounce, heavy and forceful. Konir became increasingly frenzied, sparks flying as their weapons clashed.

Konir's fury burned like a fire in the cold winter night, proud, stubborn, unyielding. This fiery will tormented both his enemy and himself. Using this power, Konir unleashed a flurry of heavy blows with his warhammer.

Aldred began to falter.

"Indeed, so young yet a commander of the knights; Konir truly has something special," Ryan acknowledged from the stands. "To grasp the White Wolf's Battle Fervor at such a young age is impressive. Let's see how well he can control it."

"I can feel his wolfish scent even from this distance," Morgiana commented, frowning, obviously disliking the odor. "Don't these White Wolf Knights understand personal hygiene?"

"My lady, please don't generalize," Ryan thought, unable to respond as he had once been a White Wolf Knight himself.

"I didn't mean you," Morgiana realized her mistake.

The atmosphere turned awkward. This issue was common across human realms. The Empire was essentially a confederation of states, and the Emperor's command's effectiveness depended on his strength. Similarly, Bretonnia comprised several duchies, like Francois defying the king's orders. Thus, people proudly adhered to their customs and dismissed others' cultures as worthless.

Morgiana seemed to want to apologize but didn't know how. Ryan, meanwhile, tactfully changed the subject: "Aldred, the heir of Duke Lyonnesse, is losing!"

In the arena, Aldred was retreating. Despite trying to grip his sword and shield firmly, his arms were numb from repeated blows. The effect of excessive drinking waned, and he stumbled, sword trembling.

"Ah!" With a clang, Konir's warhammer swept the lower half of Aldred's sword, then flicked upward. Aldred lost his grip, and the sword flew into the air.

Relying solely on his shield, Aldred's situation worsened as Konir's relentless hammering deformed it.

"Enough! We concede this match!" Although Aldred refused to surrender, Duke Lyonnesse conceded for him.

"Fine, I admit defeat."

"This victory belongs to Yurik!" The Empire's side erupted in cheers, only calming when Aldred was carried away, revealing his bruises.

In the cold void, two gods watched the duel in the arena.

"Ha ha ha! Even without Ryan, I have plenty of outstanding young men!" Yurik, in his ancient silver armor and wolf pelt, couldn't contain his pride, addressing the opposite goddess.

The Lady of the Lake, in her silken dress, remained silent and unresponsive to Yurik's remarks.

"Listen, my brethren, my Elector Count! I have won a victory, but not my best, not yet!" Konir, holding his warhammer, addressed his cheering supporters, quieting them down.

"I have one more opponent to defeat! As champions, shouldn't Bretonnia send theirs to face me? Or do you lack the courage to accept my challenge?" Konir, warhammer in hand, looked directly at Ryan.

Morgiana was about to scold Konir for his impudence, but Ryan interrupted with a cold laugh: "My lady, I'll be right back... Konir Reisfeld? I accept your challenge!"

Seeing Ryan enter the fray, King Richard sighed unhappily, while Duke Lyonnesse glared disapprovingly. In contrast, Francois and Lauen encouraged Ryan with their gaze.

"Excellent! Today, let's decide who is the true champion!" Konir revealed his yellowish teeth.

Ryan donned his etheric precision-engineered power armor and took up his hammer. Facing the enthusiastic Champion of Yurik, he sized up Konir and asked, "Do you exercise daily? You seem quite sturdy."

"I haven't been doing anything special, just hunting Beastmen," Konir replied.

"Got a girlfriend?" Ryan inquired further.

"Not at the moment," Konir answered, surprised by Ryan's casual questions.

"No girlfriend? When did you last have one?"

"Last... last year?" Konir seemed sheepish.

"So you occasionally relax, right?" Ryan chuckled.

"Definitely!" Konir perked up.

"What's your favorite...?" Ryan began, but was interrupted by an angry voice in his mind: "Ryan!!! My champion, what are you discussing during a duel? Is the arena a place for such exchanges?"

"Guess I'm still too straightforward..." Konir wanted to continue, but suddenly paled. Yurik had intervened.

"Let's save this for later. Now, let me knock you out of the arena," Ryan smirked, getting serious.

"Don't underestimate me!" Enraged by Ryan's words, Konir charged.

Pale blue etheric energy surged from Ryan, powering his armor. With explosive energy in his muscular arms, he prepared for a powerful strike.

"Higher output," Ryan silently commanded.

As Konir, like a cannonball, charged, Ryan, immovable as a rock, waited. Konir drew closer.

Ryan swung his Griffon Warhammer from below with thunderous force, striking Konir's abdomen first.

"Clang!"

Konir, the White Wolf Knight's seventh commander, flew into the air, vomiting and then fainting upon landing, dust billowing around him.

Silence fell over the arena.

After a minute, Bretonnia's side erupted in thunderous cheers.

"Fantastic! Long live Sir Ryan, the Lady's Chosen Champion!"

"Just one strike, only one! By the Lady!"

"See, mountain dwellers, this is the strength of Bretonnia!"

"Praise the Lady!"

"In the Lady's name! Champion, champion, champion!"

With such a decisive and effortless victory, the morale of Bretonnia soared. Even Richard, not a fan of Ryan, smiled. The Bretonnian nobles stood tall and proud.

"Damn it," Boris rushed to check on Konir, knowing Ryan had held back. If the blow had been to the chest, Konir might have been fatally injured. "Quick, take him for treatment."

Konir was carried off, and Boris, begrudgingly, acknowledged Bretonnia's victory: "Impressive, Bretonnia. We admit defeat today. The glory is yours."

"The strength of the White Wolf Knights is commendable. Having such powerful allies pleases Bretonnia," Richard quickly added.

The duel ended in Bretonnia's victory. The Lady of the Lake, satisfied and smiling, departed, leaving an irate Yurik: "That meddler! Stealing my man and using him against me!"

"Ah, this infuriates me!"

___________________

(Support with power stones, comments or reviews)

If you guys enjoy this story, In support me on Patreon and get access to +200 advance Chapters

Read Ahead

Patreon.com/INNIT