"I was just speaking casually, my lady. Of course, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen is you." Ryan was horrified. He realized that the Lady of the Lake had been watching him! The Lady's champion had no choice but to immediately admit defeat: "I was just talking casually, just talking casually. I couldn't possibly describe your appearance to this imperial merchant, could I?"
"You better think carefully about your current identity before you speak." The voice of the Lady of the Lake disappeared.
"What's wrong, Mr. Ryan?" Oliver asked curiously as he noticed Ryan's face turning red and then white.
"Nothing, I think I've had too much to drink. It's time to leave." Ryan couldn't explain what had happened, so he indicated that he should leave.
"What, leaving so early? There's still the dance troupe's performance!" Oliver felt very strange.
"No, I'm leaving." After saying goodbye to Veronica and several nobles and the Archbishop of the Church of the Ocean, Ryan left the banquet hall.
As they walked out of the city hall, the warm atmosphere and bright lights vanished instantly, leaving behind the cold air of the winter night, the bright moonlight, a row of lonely street lamps, and a sparse crowd. The splendor and excitement receded, leaving only emptiness. This momentary gap made the young apprentice Catherine reluctant. She looked longingly at the city hall behind her, still bustling with activity.
"Catherine?" Veronica, walking ahead, noticed the young apprentice's state. The woman was initially displeased, but she quickly understood Catherine's mindset and said coldly, "Hurry up, or you can continue attending the banquet alone."
"No, mentor, I'm coming right away!" Catherine's face turned pale with fright. The witches of Garon were quite strict and even harsh with their apprentices. Errant apprentices faced various punishments, including occasional physical punishments. Some older, mentally twisted witches would intentionally scar the faces of pretty female apprentices.
Though these were rare cases.
More frightening was the jealousy and bullying among peers. Mentors often sided with older, trusted apprentices, so some scheming students would manipulate and steal others' work, even framing and using violence.
While Garon supervised such behaviors, the mentors' orders were absolute, making some situations unavoidable.
Veronica treated her young apprentice reasonably, not too well nor too poorly. Seeing Catherine run to catch up, the Garon witch said nothing. A luxuriously decorated carriage arrived, and Veronica extended her hands to Ryan. Ryan gently helped the witch into the carriage—such medieval dresses were particularly troublesome and prone to tearing when climbing stairs, suitable only for carpeted flat roads.
Inside the heated city hall, a tall, thin man in a double-breasted coat and tight pants quietly approached Anieda. His face was unhealthily pale, with a faintly bluish tinge. He whispered something in Anieda's ear, and the president of the Association of Aesthetics smiled charmingly before saying to the Count of Huron in front of her, "Excuse me, Edmund, I must leave."
"Oh! No, no, dear Anieda, don't mind me. I'll wait for you here." Before Anieda stood a young grand noble of the Marienburg Upper House, Edmund Huron. This young man, only in his twenties, became the Count of Huron after his father's sudden death in an accident. Though weak in strength, he was quite talented in painting and sculpture.
After a grand art exhibition, he met Anieda and fell madly in love with the beautiful president of the Association of Aesthetics. He spared no expense to please her, even abusing his power to gain her attention.
"I might not return, Edmund. Would you like to attend tomorrow night's banquet?" Anieda's beautiful face looked regretful.
"Oh! Of course!" Edmund nodded vigorously. "I greatly miss our wonderful discussions about art."
"Then see you tomorrow." Anieda and her servant left. Edmund watched Anieda's figure, unaware of Schultz's approach. "Edmund?"
"Edmund? Edmund??" It wasn't until the somewhat impatient voice called repeatedly that the young count came back to his senses. "Lord Schultz? Bishop Aldrich?"
"Edmund, we were asking you about tomorrow's Upper House meeting on tax issues. The Winter Veil is in a month, and in this war, the Emperor achieved a great victory, seizing many spoils. We plan to lower taxes slightly to attract the Emperor to entrust his spoils to Marienburg for processing… Edmund, are you listening?" Bishop Aldrich said discontentedly, noticing the young man was distracted.
"Oh, no, I won't be attending. I need to prepare for Anieda's banquet tomorrow." The young man quickly replied.
"Edmund, this is the third time you've skipped the Upper House meeting. Your father never did this. Don't always hang around with Anieda; it's not good for you." Schultz said discontentedly, aware of the Association of Aesthetics' true nature.
"No, no, Anieda wouldn't harm me." Edmund shook his head repeatedly and walked away. "Sorry, I won't attend tomorrow's meeting."
"Sigh, I wonder what old Huron would think if he saw his son become like this." Bishop Aldrich and Schultz sighed at each other.
Anieda and her servant hurried out of the city hall and took a carriage back to her residence. The tall, thin man spoke softly, his voice hissing like a poisonous snake. "President, we investigated that Ryan. He's a very dangerous warrior, seemingly here to hunt down Bert."
"A warrior indeed, indifferent to my beauty~" Anieda's eyes flashed with purplish-red bloodlust. "I'd love to dissect him and see what's inside his guts."
"President, we can't let that damned fallen hunter threaten our plans. I think we should…"
"No, Bert is still useful, so don't kill him yet… Heh, how about we arrange a delightful show, one that will bring immense joy…"
"As you command."
The night carried their secrets.
53 Amber Avenue.
"Catherine, make two cups of hot milk." Veronica had just walked into the spacious living room, her hands reaching to remove the long, heavy skirt of her evening gown, revealing a short skirt and long legs underneath. The Garon witch first instructed her apprentice to make some milk and then sat beside Ryan, leaning on his shoulder. "Any gains?"
"I'd like to hear your findings first." Ryan held the woman's hand, signaling her to speak.
It had always been this way. Veronica excelled in logical thinking and analysis, while Ryan was adept at making decisions and finding the most advantageous solutions within various rules.
"It seems the president of the Association of Aesthetics has a high reputation in Marienburg's upper society. When she spoke to you, at least sixty percent of the men at the banquet were distracted. When she invited you, at least forty percent were first relieved and then thought you had no taste or appreciation for beauty." Veronica lazily leaned on the soft chair, then mocked, "Just like your acquaintance, Oliver, who thinks you have no taste."
"I have no taste? Are you mocking yourself?" Ryan untied his tie, noticing Veronica's unchanged expression, and said suddenly, "I understand why someone as talented as Teresa would be overshadowed by you. If she encountered Oliver's situation, she'd likely lose her temper and possibly act out."
"What do I gain from arguing with that idiot? Can I raise my reputation? Learn more spells? Gain material rewards? Increase my standing in your heart? If not, why should I argue with him? Would you dislike me because he looks down on me?" Veronica coldly laughed and asked repeatedly. "I'd rather they see me as a vase… In short, I don't recommend you publicly target the Association of Aesthetics. That woman is very influential."
Ryan looked at Veronica, his eyes full of caution.
This woman was indeed formidable. In Chinese terms, she had deep shrewdness and great composure. Perhaps Teresa matched her in magical prowess, but in terms of handling people and scheming, the sorceress fell short.
In following Ryan's actions, Teresa was always eager to prove herself, while Veronica seemed like a vase. However, the final effects were entirely different.
Such a woman, he really…
Seeing the man's flickering gaze, a trace of panic flashed in Veronica's beautiful almond eyes. She quickly grasped Ryan's hand, her lips curving up. "What's wrong? Are you afraid of me?"
"No, just think you're amazing." Sitting beside her, Ryan drank the milk Catherine brought, finishing it in one go. "It's a strange feeling, hard to describe. I don't know if partnering with you is right…"
"What are you saying?" Veronica's face seemed calm, but her voice trembled slightly. "I don't understand. Explain clearly… okay, Ryan?"
"Nothing, I just think Teresa has reasons for losing to you. She's excellent, but you're even better." Ryan shook his head, dispelling some thoughts from his mind. "Being your partner is my honor too."
"Phew~" Veronica let out a deep breath, feeling completely drained. "Don't scare me like that."
"Hahaha~"
Night deepened, and Amber Avenue grew quiet.
In the master bedroom on the second floor, the lights were still on. Ryan stood by the window, looking into the distance, while Veronica sat at the dressing table. The woman placed two silver crescent earrings on the dressing table. The room had thick imported carpets, with a large velvet bed in the center. To the left were various lamps and coat racks, and inside was a dressing room
filled with the witch's clothes and shoes. The female Garon councillors never lacked these items. Veronica's clothes were relatively few, only three wardrobes. Ryan remembered Teresa's mother, Aurora, had so many clothes that two rooms couldn't hold them.
"Jacob's arrival indicates the seriousness of the situation. We should hurry." Ryan pondered the day's events, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information.
"The key issue is where Bert is hiding. Is it the gladiator arena? The underground tunnels? Or the Association of Aesthetics?" Veronica frowned, suddenly looking at Ryan. "Ryan… could you sleep in the other room tonight?"
"What? I wanted to hold you properly." Ryan's tone had a hint of dissatisfaction.
The Garon witch leaned gently against his chest and said coquettishly, "I don't mean that. I just mean… when we share a room at night, you'll toss me around, and I won't have time to think!"
"Alright, I think you're right. I'll go out for a walk and see if I can gather some new information from the citizens and shopkeepers." Ryan wasn't the type of man who clung to women with nothing but dirty thoughts. He knew the importance of priorities.
Veronica sighed in relief, knowing Ryan was no longer the slightly famous ranger knight from a few years ago.
He was now the Lady of the Lake's chosen champion, a mid-legendary human hero. In their partnership, he had taken the lead. He needed spellcasters, but he was no longer worried about finding legendary spellcasters to partner with him. This meant Veronica needed him more. He cared for her but wasn't endlessly tolerant. He didn't owe her.
She didn't want to have conflicts with him.
"You can mess around outside or invite someone over, but I warn you, don't touch my apprentice." Veronica pursed her lips, looking into the distance, lightly stroking Ryan's chest. Her fingers drew circles on his chest, and then she looked up at him with bright eyes. "If you touch her, I won't do anything to you, but poor Catherine will disappear from this world. What happens to a girl who disobeys her mentor's orders? Guess?"
"I'm not the kind of man who can't live without a woman!" Ryan complained, but the witch clearly didn't believe him. "Oh? Really? Don't tell me you didn't do anything with our Garon princess while staying with her?"
"I really didn't do anything." Ryan continued to complain. "Besides, Veronica, think about it. If I really touched her, wouldn't that be more troublesome?"
"My great knight is quite clever!" Veronica finally let the issue go. "Go for a walk, my great knight."
"Goodnight, my great witch!" Ryan kissed Veronica's hand goodnight.
"Goodnight." Veronica also pecked Ryan on the cheek.
Ryan changed into clean, ordinary clothes, strapped his single-handed sword to his back, and combed his black hair a bit before leaving his new home.
Leaving Amber Avenue, Ryan followed the long road to his destination for the night—Twilight Street.
The dark sky couldn't conceal the enthusiasm of Marienburg's citizens. Many streets operated 24 hours a day. To gather information, the best places were those sleepless streets, where the news was the most updated in the city.
As usual, Twilight Street was open 24 hours, but Ryan saw a familiar face in the bustling crowd.
"Huh! Why is he here too?"
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