"Really? A fight broke out between the witcher and some Kislevites in a town's inn?" On a clearing by the River Shennon, Ryan was sparring with his brother, Angron.
Calling it a spar was a bit generous; it was more of a one-sided beating. The Grail Knight was bruised and swollen, his war hammer lying nearby, while Angron, in high spirits, wielded a large battle-axe and a hammer.
Any ordinary Grail Knight would have been severely injured from such heavy blows, but Ryan was different. He was a Gene Primarch. After a short five-minute rest, his injuries and swelling had completely disappeared. "Brother, I'm ready again!"
"Good! Let's go!" Ryan's lion griffon war hammer flew back to his hand under his psychic control. Holding it firmly, he clashed again with his brother.
The hammer and axe struck each other, and Ryan was forced to retreat from the unstoppable force emanating from Angron. "Retreating won't bring you victory, brother!" Angron said, slamming his fist into the ground, creating a crater.
"I'm not one of those fools who don't know when to retreat, brother. Pulling back is to strike better!" Ryan seized the momentary opening, or at least what he perceived as one, and threw a powerful punch towards Angron's chest, generating a fierce wind with his fist.
"That's more like it!" Angron quickly adapted, stepping back and counterattacking. The two Gene Primarchs' fists collided, nearly breaking the sound barrier, distorting space, and shaking the surrounding river and land.
Unsurprisingly, Ryan was sent flying by his brother's incredible strength. His robust body rolled across the ground, covered in dust and mud.
At that moment, Ryan didn't care about his knightly dignity. He rolled over, surrounded by a vortex of blue psychic energy. His war hammer was too far to retrieve, and he decided not to.
With hands ablaze with blue fire and eyes shining with the same light, Ryan, the Grey Knight Gene Primarch, gathered his psychic energy: "Psychic Storm!"
Thick white lightning split the air, striking Angron. The energy released by Ryan was enough to deter the strongest Beastmen Beastlord.
But his opponent was Angron. His brother withstood the psychic storm, charging towards Ryan: "You lose, brother!"
Enveloped and scorched by the psychic storm, Angron raised his right arm, channeling his terrifying power, and launched another sound-barrier-breaking punch at Ryan.
Ryan had no choice but to cross his arms in defense, feeling like he was being charged at by a stampede of wild oxen, and was sent flying.
Angron shattered the psychic storm with his sheer physical strength, standing tall amidst the charred air. He didn't pursue Ryan, just stood there satisfied.
On the ground was a trail of scrapes and rolls, clearly Ryan's handiwork. His brother had been thrown dozens of meters away, rolling several times before crashing into a rock and kicking up dust.
It seemed Ryan was silent.
Angron, without a hint of worry, nodded approvingly: "Well done."
A silver pillar of light erupted from where Ryan had fallen, dispersing the dust with blue flames. Ryan stood before Angron, his eyes burning with a faint blue fire – the perfect fusion of psychic, spiritual, and physical power.
Ryan had ascended to a legendary high order Grail Knight.
Before the Knights' War, Ryan had already been on the verge of ascension. Angron's power helped him achieve it.
His physical prowess became unfathomable, his psychic energy flowing like tidal waves within him, his strength increased by nearly half. A faint blue flame surrounded him.
"Well done. You've finally ascended," Angron nodded, smiling: "You're now much stronger than Rogal, brother."
"Uh..." Ryan wiped his face, removing a mix of sweat and mud, then spat out some grass, smiling wryly: "Let's stop here for today, brother. I just ascended and need to stabilize my realm."
"Alright, go clean up."
…
An hour later, a cleaned-up Ryan and Angron returned to Gisoreux. "You didn't finish earlier, brother. You mentioned a fight between the witcher and some Kislevites?"
"Yes, two Kislevites died, but the witcher wasn't injured," Ryan walked towards a tavern with Angron: "Hector dealt with it. The Kislevites are not letting it go and plan to appeal to Duke Winfort."
"Hah, that's pointless. The Duke will undoubtedly favor you. Where do those Kislevites get the confidence to think they can win against a Grail Knight in this country?" Angron laughed, well-informed about the current situation: "It's like a planetary governor suing the Adeptus Custodes."
Both laughed heartily, entering the tavern. Ryan ordered brandy, and Angron preferred mead. The innkeeper was thrilled by Ryan's presence, filling his cup and offering the second at half price.
They ordered stewed pork soup, roast chicken, and goose. Both had large appetites, spending several silver coins on their meal.
At the table, Ryan continued the conversation: "I've started the workshops along the Shennon, but we lack blacksmiths. Bretonnia has a shortage, and few are willing to work in a barony like ours."
Ryan possessed ancient enchanting weapon-making techniques and understood water-hammer forging. Normally, setting up workshops wouldn't be a problem, but he couldn't personally be a blacksmith, right?
"I understand, brother. You shouldn't limit yourself to humans only," Angron said while tearing apart a chicken wing: "No offense, brother, but you could try dwarfs and elves. Their forging techniques are impressive, better than humans."
"Huh? Brother, you know about elven and dwarven forging?"
"I'm not just a farmer, brother. While you were campaigning, I visited Bordeleaux and even went fishing at sea. I caught a big fish, half my height. You can see it at my house. I speared it right out of the sea with a trident. The local sea god cult even rewarded me with a bag of tuna jerky for being a warrior."
"Haha, your life seems rich and varied." Ryan laughed heartily, happy to see Angron enjoying himself.
"I stayed in Bordeleaux for a few days. There were some dwarven craftsmen, especially a rune smith named Throngi Fëanor. He lives here." Angron pulled out a parchment with the dwarf's address: "Here, this might help."
"Thanks." Ryan pondered. Unlike the Empire, Bretonnia's relationship with dwarfs was lukewarm. The knights had little contact with dwarfs and, due to diplomatic ties with wood elves and the Lady of the Lake's identity, didn't form a holy alliance like the Empire. However, they weren't enemies.
Ryan could indeed visit. Dwarfs valued money and were fond of technology. With his new enchantment techniques, the rune smith might be interested.
"Speaking of which, I have to attend a party by the Duke of Bordeleaux... " Ryan rubbed his head, troubled: "Such events require a female companion of appropriate status. Where can I find one? I can't bring an elf, can I?"
"My brother, are you really clueless or pretending?" Angron looked disdainfully: "You have the perfect candidate who often visits you. Why not ask her?"
"Alright, I understand." Ryan nodded, knowing whom Angron meant.
While Ryan focused on strengthening himself and developing his domain...
On a medium-sized passenger ship off Marienburg...
In a luxurious cabin, Veronica, accompanied by her apprentice Catherine, was in high spirits. After arriving in Marienburg, Veronica was warmly received by Duke Schultz, enjoying the treatment of a distinguished guest. Although she didn't understand Ryan's deep friendship with Schultz, it didn't matter. She had a great partner and lover in Ryan.
Knowing of Veronica's plans to join Ryan, Schultz arranged a fast ship to send her and her apprentice off, significantly shortening the twenty-five-day journey to just ten days. This uplifted the witch's mood.
At night, with the ocean waves crashing outside and the magic lamps illuminating the cabin, Catherine sat mending her clothes – a necessary skill for witch apprentices. Today, Veronica wore a garnet red wolf fur coat, a black knitted sweater, and a tight skirt, revealing her long, silky legs.
"Veronica?"
"What is it, Catherine?" Veronica beckoned her apprentice, who shyly approached.
"Sit with me, Catherine," Veronica said warmly. "Leave your work and talk to me."
"Okay," Catherine replied, joining Veronica, who began reminiscing about her past.
Veronica showed Catherine a photo album from her early years, depicting a shy, naive Veronica. She explained how she had changed over time, especially after meeting Ryan, becoming more confident and happy.
While discussing her transformation, Veronica accidentally revealed a unique tattoo on her lower abdomen – a silver heart with wings and a sword, emanating a sacred and purifying aura.
Catherine, intrigued, asked about the tattoo.
Veronica, blushing, quickly covered up, but smiled warmly, reflecting on the changes Ryan brought into her life.
___________________
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