Chapter 205: The Arrival of the White Wolf Champion

"Ugh!" About twenty minutes later, a knight of the kingdom named Torlan was at his wit's end, barely holding on under the fierce blows of Becker's warhammer.

The knights of the White Wolf, who follow Yurik, often have a characteristic: the longer they fight, the more vigorous they become. Initially, Torlan could match Becker, but as time passed, the kingdom's knight, clad in plate armor and wielding a sword and shield, began to falter.

With a solid strike of his warhammer, Becker hit the shield hard. The shield, with its red and blue emblem of Cacassonne, featuring a long sword in the center, was now badly deformed. Becker, drenched in sweat, exclaimed, "Thrilling, exhilarating! Come on, Bretonnian fellow, aren't you supposed to be formidable?"

"Knight from the mountains! Don't underestimate our strength! For the Lady!" The kingdom's knight charged forward with his shield, pushing Becker back.

Torlan, gasping for air, took this chance to quickly recover. The intensity of the continuous fight had exhausted him, and he greedily breathed in the fresh air of early spring.

Becker, the White Wolf knight, was also drenched in sweat. His beard and sideburns were soaked, and he was rapidly tiring from the high-intensity battle. "Bretonnian knight, you're impressive to have lasted this long, but I will defeat you in Yurik's name!"

"For the Lady and the King, for Bretonnia!" Torlan shouted, raising his shield again to continue the fight.

Up in the grandstand, Ryan sat next to Morgiana, the Lake Witch. For some reason, she seemed to have taken a liking to him, and he hadn't had a chance to speak with Francois, as Morgiana had insisted on sitting with him.

Morgiana, like a fairy from the lake, exuded the fragrance of irises, which was refreshing. Ryan, sitting beside her, frowned. "This knight named Torlan is no match for Becker. It looks like he's going to lose."

Morgiana's emerald eyes flickered with displeasure, not towards Ryan, but towards Torlan. "Torlan is already an elite senior knight of the kingdom, skilled in cavalry and using a lance. His swordsmanship is decent, but he's clearly no match for this White Wolf knight. Yurik's knights are indeed formidable."

"The White Wolf Knights, along with the Griffon and Grail Knight Orders, are known as the three great knight orders of the Old World. In the north of the Empire, having a son become a White Wolf Knight is considered a supreme honor," Ryan simply commented, choosing not to elaborate further.

Morgiana nodded, her cool voice becoming serious. "This will be an eye-opener for the kingdom's knights. The knights from across the mountains in the Empire are not necessarily weaker than ours."

While they spoke, the battle concluded. Torlan's shield was knocked away, and the exhausted knight signaled his defeat.

"Ha ha ha ha!" The young White Wolf Knight, though also tired, laughed heartily before gasping, "Praise... the White Wolf... Yurik."

Torlan, red-faced then pale, reluctantly accepted defeat. The Lady's teachings encouraged knights to be honest, and he knew that persisting would only bring more humiliation. So, he silently retreated.

The faces of the Bretonnian nobility darkened, especially those of the dukes. They exchanged reproachful glances with the defeated knight, realizing the difficulty of their situation.

Among the assembled nobility, there were several legendary figures, as the gathering included about a third of the kingdom's major nobles. However, the problem lay in the demand made by the Imperial ambassador Boris - a duel among the young.

To the eye, the young White Wolf Knight appeared to be no older than twenty-five or thirty. Boris had specifically requested a duel among the young, so it wouldn't be appropriate for older individuals to participate.

Francois looked especially troubled. His son, Julius, had not come today. Although the king had commanded all counts and higher nobles to participate, Francois had ignored this order. Julius was busy instructing his sister Sulia in the rules and techniques vital for her upcoming Knight Tournament, so Francois had decided that only he would attend.

"Damn, the Empire came prepared," Francois said to Lauen, his face a mix of caution and contemplation. "The Elector Count first demanded a foot battle to weaken us, then insisted on choosing young combatants as part of his strategy. He certainly came prepared, but we cannot refuse. Combat on foot is indeed a skill all knights must master, and the young knights are the future of the kingdom."

"Those humans from across the mountains are always so aggressive," Lauen agreed, looking serious. "Then, we have no choice but to send Ryan..."

"No!" Francois immediately rejected this idea. "Send Ryan now, against a mere White Wolf Knight? If we Bretonnians have to resort to our Lady's chosen champion to face an ordinary White Wolf Knight, even if Ryan wins, we've already lost!"

Lauen nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He himself, over forty, still had no heirs.

"Are there no young knights among our allies capable of matching a common White Wolf Knight?" Boris said loudly, his feathers rustling proudly.

Boris' provocative gaze swept across several dukes: Francois of Winfort, Dalheid of Lyonnesse, Lauen of Connaught, the Knight King, and Richard of L'Anguille.

Finally, Dalheid of Lyonnesse couldn't sit still any longer. He signaled to a young knight beside him, who stood up resolutely. "Aldred of Lyonnesse, son of Duke Dalheid, representing the Lady, I accept your challenge!"

This young man, with flowing brown hair, slender black eyes, and a high nose, looked haughty and proud. Clad in gleaming enchanted plate armor and holding a cross helm, he stepped out from the crowd. "Aldred de Lyonnesse, faithful servant of the Lady, son of Dalheid!"

"Mmm?" Morgiana sounded surprised. The Lake Witch held her chalice of potions, her face showing an unclear expression. "He's here too?"

"This knight is Dalheid's eldest legitimate son?" Ryan asked, curious.

"Yes, Aldred is Dalheid's eldest son. But Dalheid was quite old when Aldred was born, and he couldn't handle his son's... issues. So Aldred gradually became a drunkard and a haughty fool," Morgiana sighed. "Therefore, Dalheid sent Aldred to Breleone, which was at war with Estalia, hoping the continuous warfare and rich artistic atmosphere there would change him. He thought that under Theodoric's strict tutelage, Aldred would learn piety and discipline, and stay away from his drinking friends."

"It didn't work, right?" Ryan said, smiling.

"No, it didn't," Morgiana replied, a hint of helplessness in her beautiful green eyes. She shifted her posture, revealing her white boots under her long dress. "Sadly, Aldred immediately found like-minded drinking buddies in Breleone and formed a club. Despite Theodoric's strict punishments, they never gave up drinking... Despite this, Aldred's skills are commendable. It's not surprising that he's stepping up to the challenge."

Aldred, having descended from the stands, now faced Becker. His steps were slightly unsteady, but he was burning with fighting spirit. "I accept your challenge, White Wolf Knight. I won't bully you. I'll give you twenty minutes to rest, then we'll fight!"

"As you wish," the young White Wolf Knight agreed to rest, under Boris's watchful eye. The elder White Wolf Knights quickly brought him potions and medicine for treatment.

Aldred, in his red and silver armor, looked disdainfully at the recuperating White Wolf Knight. His shield, bearing a glowing red lion in the sunlight, clanged noisily as he paced in front of his opponent.

Twenty minutes later, the battle resumed.

Unlike other knights, Aldred approached Becker slowly with his shield. The White Wolf Knight, as bold as ever, charged at the son of the Duke of Lyonnesse and raised his warhammer high.

"Come!" Aldred banged his long sword against his shield, then suddenly crouched, tilting his shield to absorb the warhammer's force.

The heavy strike didn't have the desired effect. The young White Wolf Knight, unable to cope with the strong recoil, saw his warhammer deflected by the sturdy shield. In the moment Becker staggered back to balance himself, Aldred struck his forehead hard with the edge of his shield. The kingdom's knight's force was so great that the White Wolf Knight stumbled back several steps to recover.

"The most powerful attacks come from the unexpected, not the visible sword. Little pup, today I, Aldred, will teach you a lesson!" Aldred, sweeping away Becker's warhammer attack with his shield, then struck Becker's forehead again.

Dizzy, the White Wolf Knight retreated, trying to distance himself from Aldred.

But Aldred didn't give him the chance. Advancing quickly, he launched a flurry of sword strikes. Becker was awkward and struggling, completely losing the initiative.

Watching from the stands, Ryan narrowed his eyes, commenting to Morgiana, "Aldred's use of the shield is anything but rigid. His flexible coordination of sword and shield has gained him the upper hand. Becker, weaker in wrist strength and losing the initiative, is likely to lose."

Morgiana huffed, apparently still unsatisfied. "So what if we win against a mere White Wolf Knight sent to test us? Even if Aldred wins, what does it prove?"

"It's better than losing," Ryan replied, somewhat helplessly.

In the arena, the outcome became clear. Aldred's sword, like a lion's fang, threatened to tear everything apart. With each strike, Becker had to abandon his offense to defend, and the sword's passing left him vulnerable to the shield. Becker lost all control of the battle.

Finally, Aldred's iron boot kicked Becker's leg, and his sword narrowly missed Becker's neck. Aldred spat, withdrawing his sword. "In the Lady's name, you lose, White Wolf Knight!"

"Yes, I lose. In Yurik's name, honor to you," Becker conceded. He had just felt death brush past him. The young White Wolf Knight, gasping for breath, was helped back to his side by his comrades.

Boris patted Becker's shoulder. A young elite mid-tier White Wolf Knight holding out against a legendary early-stage duke's son was commendable. Even Yurik wouldn't fault him. They were all human; there was no need for a fight to the death.

Afterwards, Aldred achieved the remarkable feat of defeating two more White Wolf Knights who challenged him.

"For the Lady! For Bretonnia!" The kingdom's knight, not yet thirty, raised his shield.

"Yay, yay, yay!" The Bretonnian camp erupted in celebration. The knights sang loudly, chanting the name of the Lady of the Lake. Duke Dalheid received much praise for his outstanding son.

Although Dalheid appeared modest, his triumphant expression betrayed him. He glanced at Ryan, who was speaking with Morgiana, and received a smile in return.

The Empire, unable to sit idly, saw Boris Todbringer turn and say, "In that case... Konir, it's your turn!"

"Yes, my lord!" A young man with a grey wolf's head pelt on his head and a youthful face, still with some fluff around his mouth, stood up. He carried a silver skull warhammer and wore a large wolf pelt cloak, with the White Wolf Knight badge on his chest. He entered the arena.

"Champion of Yurik, seventh commander of the White Wolf Knight Order, Konir Reisfeld, I accept your challenge. May Yurik grant me victory!"

"In the Lady's name, I accept your challenge!" Aldred accepted, laughing scornfully. He glanced at Konir's youthful face and asked, "Tell me, little pup, how old are you this year?"

"24, knight!"

"Good, then let's begin!"

I see many readers asking for the protagonist to be promoted in rank. This is indeed my plan, but it won't happen so soon. Advancing in medieval titles is very challenging, often taking generations. The protagonist is already advancing quickly, but solid military achievements are needed. Patience is key.

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