The Griffon True Silver Holy Sword descended upon Ryan with the force of thunder, carrying with it an immense power.
The Goddess of Vengeance burned with white flames as Ryan gripped the hilt tightly, the bright silver blade emitting a faint blue glow. Immense psychic energy was infused into the holy sword, its explosive power impressing the Duke of Griffon, "Is this your strongest strike?"
Ryan didn't respond; taking a step forward, the Goddess of Vengeance connected with his bloodline, eager to fight alongside him.
The father's formidable presence, coupled with the chill of winter, assaulted the son's heart, but his will stood firm against his father's force.
Swords clashed, and for a moment, Amber Road was as bright as day.
Anton, blinded by the intense light, retreated, covering his eyes in astonishment.
A violent explosion shattered the ground where Ryan and Ivan crossed swords, sending large stones flying and waking many of the nobility from their sleep.
A figure was sent flying from the center of the light, landing on one knee with a pale face and a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. The right sleeve of his garment, from the outer coat to the lining, turned to ash, revealing his muscular arm. He staggered back several steps before standing up, silent, the flames on the Goddess of Vengeance slightly diminished but the sword's glow brighter than ever.
It was Ryan, standing proud, looking towards the source of the light.
As the smoke and brightness faded, Ivan's figure emerged, stepping out unharmed. Lifting his right hand, his glove disintegrated into ashes under Anton's astonished gaze.
Ivan gazed at his foster son as if seeing him anew.
After a long sigh, Ivan sheathed the Griffon True Silver Holy Sword, "Indeed, you've grown strong enough to fly on your own."
"Does my strength earn your approval, father?" Ryan also sheathed the Goddess of Vengeance, his internal injuries from the clash significant but his remarkable regenerative abilities as a genetic original hiding any outward effects.
"Your strength surpasses that of an average Grail Knight. No wonder... no wonder you have such aspirations," Ivan said seriously, looking at Ryan for a moment before sighing, "You should take some time to explain this to your foster father. Beyond that, there's nothing more I can do for you."
"Understood, Ivan, Anton, good night!" Knowing he had earned his foster father's approval, Ryan bid them goodnight and left.
The bright moonlight fell on Amber Road as Ivan watched Ryan's departing figure, silent.
Another eagle had flown from beneath his wings.
His wings were safe and warm but also a form of restraint. Where would this eagle named Ryan fly? Would his great ambitions bring him supreme glory or tragic destruction?
No one knew.
"Ryan's growth exceeds my expectations, father," Anton broke the silence, his usually confident demeanor showing signs of dejection, "I always thought I was exceptional until I met Ryan."
"Ryan is an anomaly. Rarely do I see someone as outstanding as him," Ivan nodded, then turned to his eldest son, "The Empire has Karl Franz, Norsca has Ryan, and Bretonnia has Julius. These powerful young men will lead humanity forward. Compared to the noble births of Karl Franz and Julius, Ryan's excellence as a Nordlander's foster son is beyond my expectations. Anton, do you know how much I've invested in your training?"
"It must be an astonishing amount, father," Anton, at thirty-three, not yet in his prime for a legendary being but mature enough, understood the efforts his father had made.
"It was regardless of cost. So, do you understand how valuable it is for Ryan, a Nordlander's foster son, to have come this far? You need to be even better, my son," Ivan used this opportunity to educate his son, who had only recently reached the legendary level, indeed quickly, which made him somewhat complacent. Ivan took this chance to give him a reality check.
"I understand, father," Anton suddenly asked, "I've met Karl Franz, but I've yet to encounter Julius, the legendary son of the Duke of Winfort."
"If nothing goes wrong, you will meet him soon."
...
When Ryan returned home, his internal injuries had fully healed. He sighed, looking at his exposed arm with a flash of determination in his eyes. Gaining his foster father's approval was an important milestone.
Entering the house, not too late for the night, the three maids greeted him. "Mr. Ryan!" exclaimed Emily, lifting her skirt in a curtsy.
"Master!" said Miranda, the young maid, with a sweet smile.
The dark elf, Orica, also lifted her skirt in a proper manner but remained silent.
Seeing Ryan's bloodied mouth and torn clothes, Emily gasped, "What happened, Mr. Ryan? Did you engage in a battle?"
"It's nothing, just a small spar with my foster father," Ryan downplayed, heading to bathe and change into clean clothes before calling Emily and Orica to his room.
The night had deepened when Emily and Orica arrived at Ryan's room.
"You're here, have a seat," Ryan, now in clean clothes, gestured for Emily and Orica to sit.
Emily, without saying, but Orica regarded Ryan with suspicion. Knowing she had no chance of resistance, she sat down obediently.
The cold moonlight streamed through the window, the warm bedroom with its burning fireplace, the thick carpet imported from southern lands, and the comfortable velvet bed in the center made Orica still feel the opulence of human life, despite many visits.
"Orica, you seem to be in pain lately?" Ryan began, with Emily looking worriedly at the dark elf.
"...This matter is none of your concern, human," Orica responded coldly in Elvish, but as she spoke, she clutched her chest in pain, glaring at Ryan with hate.
Ryan's eyebrows raised as the contract mark in his hand glowed, "First, you should call me master. Secondly, as your master, I command you to tell me why you have nightmares every night and wake up from them."
"Human, you think you own me?" Orica resisted the slave mark's torment, laughing painfully, "Even as a prisoner, don't dream of defiling me, human!"
Then, Orica attempted to conjure a bit of magic with a difficult incantation, her weakened soul making the process exceedingly slow.
"This is!" Ryan sensed magical fluctuations and immediately shielded Emily behind him. With a slight gesture, he released psychic energy from the subspace, astonishing Orica who found herself cut off from any magic, "Ah! Impossible!"
"Heh~" Ryan approached Orica, mocking, "Nothing is impossible."
After speaking, Ryan's hand, burning with faint blue flames, drew the last bit of magic from Orica, "Now, you've lost your last asset."
"Don't! Don't come near me!" Orica retreated in panic, her hair disheveled, sitting on the carpet with her black maid dress wrinkled, and her long, beautiful legs encased in white stockings exposed in front of Ryan, her delicate feet in deer leather boots kicking in vain.
But Ryan's approach was like the tolling of doom for the dark elf, who was powerless to resist until he scooped her up and gestured for Emily to come over, "Emily? Help Orica take off her boots."
"Yes, Mr. Ryan!" Emily complied, removing Orica's boots to reveal the dark elf's beautiful socked feet, though she continued to kick, "Let me go! Let me go!"
"Be quiet, or I really will XX you!" Ryan threatened fiercely, making Emily stifle a giggle.
Orica ceased struggling, "Human, I won't move, but you mustn't do that to me!"
"Slaves don't get to set terms! But if you behave, I might consider it," Ryan said indifferently, causing Orica to freeze, looking at him with fear and hatred, but soon realizing Ryan was only placing her back on the sofa, "Human! What do you really want?"
"I just want to understand why you have nightmares every night and wake from them," Ryan sat back down beside Emily and continued.
"...Fine, I'll tell you." Orica finally relented, coldly laughing, "It's our race's great enemy, the Lord of Pleasure from the Chaos Gods, who wishes to devour my soul."
"Devour your soul?" Ryan pondered, believing the dark elf wasn't lying.
The slave contract ensured she couldn't lie to her master, though she could avoid some questions and withhold key information. But on this issue, Ryan felt she spoke the truth.
Elf souls are a delicacy to the Chaos Gods. If human souls are akin to a university cafeteria, elf souls are like a seafood buffet at a star hotel, with noble elf souls being Michelin-starred meals. Thus, the Chaos Gods always seek to devour all elf souls.
Compared to High Elves under the protection of the Phoenix King Asuryan and Wood Elves under the World Tree's shelter, Dark Elves are more corrupt and fallen, craving bloodshed and murder, worshipping Khaine, the God of Murder and Bloodshed. This god's insatiable thirst for blood and skulls makes Dark Elves highly susceptible to Chaos corruption. The hedonism and debauchery rampant among Dark Elf society further exacerbate this corruption, making them a depraved race... at least, that's what the High Elves tell humans.
While there's exaggeration in these claims, the relationship between Dark Elves and Chaos is deep. For instance, Ryan learned from the High Priest of Ulric, Malus, that Khaine and the Chaos God Khorne are essentially two sides of the same coin. If Ulric and Khorne represent completely different understandings and confrontations of survival of the fittest, courage, and glory, then Khaine and Khorne essentially emphasize the same things.
Therefore, Dark Elves often ally with the northern tribes to ravage coastlines, though wars between them are also common.
"Do your Druchii not have measures to deal with this?" Ryan continued.
"...There used to be, but not anymore. The detestable Asur used sorcery to damage my soul. Every night, I feel the gaze of the Lord of Pleasure, greedily eyeing my soul," Orica said, covering her face in dread, "That omnipresent darkness, that deep-seated fear, humans cannot understand because your souls are worthless."
"If that's the case, I think I can help you," Ryan said calmly, with Emily curiously looking on, wondering how he planned to assist the dark elf.
"Help me? Ha! Foolish human, what can your fleeting life and shallow knowledge do for me? Don't joke..." Orica scoffed.
"I don't want a maid I bought for over ten thousand gold marks to become the food of a chaos god!" Ryan's hand ignited with a faint blue flame, its contained massive energy surprising and frightening the dark elf, "Human! What are you doing?! Stay away!"
"Firstly, you should call me master. Secondly, I'm saving your soul," Ryan approached slowly, "Emily? Hold her down!"
"Yes, Mr. Ryan!" The young maid secured Orica on the sofa, ignoring her screams and struggles.
Then, Ryan's hand, ablaze with faint blue flames, pressed directly onto the dark elf's forehead.
"Eh? What is this?"
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