Frankly speaking, Ryan hadn't met the old king many times. Since arriving in Brittany, his encounters with Richard had been few and far between.
On one hand, Ryan's baron title was somewhat forced upon him. To put it simply, it was the will of the Lady of the Lake. After being granted the title, Ryan was supposed to serve as Richard's vassal, which provided Richard with a legitimate reason to command Ryan.
However, there was an awkward issue: Ryan was a Grail Knight, while Richard was merely an Expedition Knight. The kingdom's Grail system dictated that an Expedition Knight couldn't easily command a Grail Knight. With the Lady backing Ryan and François, who possessed sanctuary-level strength, also supporting him, Richard found it challenging to control Ryan. This led to an awkward relationship, so they rarely met.
Another reason for their limited interactions was their differing political views. The only thing they agreed on was that Richard's eldest son, Charles, would never have a chance to ascend the throne. Richard leaned toward Lawen, while Ryan was clearly vying for the throne. They had competed and clashed over the kingship numerous times. These struggles ultimately ended with Richard's defeat, Lawen's loss at Mousilon, and Ryan's reclamation of Mousilon, settling their old grudges.
After Matthew Bard was slain by Ryan at the gates of Curona, Richard passed the Duchy of Le-Angoulême to his nephew Talbot and sent his grandson William on a Grail Quest. As for his eldest son, the prince who had waited over seventy years for the dukedom and kingship, only to eventually become a vampire? Who cared about him?
Every time Ryan saw Richard, he noticed that the old king seemed even older. When Ryan first arrived in Brittany, Richard's hair was still graying, but after his failed attempts to suppress Ryan, it had turned white. Now, it was nearly completely white.
"Surprised?" Richard stood in the doorway, his demeanor that of a simple old man on the brink of retirement. The aging king gently stroked his beard. "I felt I needed to see you."
"Of course." Ryan hesitated briefly but decided it was necessary to show Richard basic respect. This wasn't out of fear or weakness, but to maintain the legitimacy of his own claim. Only by fully respecting the old king would his kingship be seen as legitimate. "Shall we talk somewhere?"
"Care to take a walk with me? Just around here." Richard spread his hands. "No weapons, no entourage."
"Sure, just a moment. Let me speak to Sulia." Ryan nodded and turned back into the room, exchanging a few words with Sulia. The female knight was surprised but quickly agreed.
A few minutes later, the old king and the soon-to-be-crowned new king strolled through the dimly lit streets of Curona, ignoring the curfew. At this hour, the streets were nearly deserted. Under Lawen's rule, the curfew in the capital was strictly enforced. Aside from a few nobles with permission to be out and a handful of authorized merchants, the streets were empty.
The street lamps were not particularly bright. Curona was Brittany's most populous and expansive city. Keeping the city fully illuminated at night would cost an enormous sum, so Lawen only ensured basic lighting. Thus, under the sparse lamplight, both Richard's and Ryan's faces were barely visible.
"Is there nothing you want to say to me?" Richard's aged voice was filled with a mix of calm and lightness.
"I recall it was you who sought me out," Ryan replied with a slight smile.
"Your Majesty," Richard said in a hoarse voice.
"Hmm?"
"You must address me as Your Majesty, for you are not yet king," Richard growled from deep within his throat. "Do you not have any basic manners?"
"Very well, my king. I recall it was you who came to me," Ryan replied, rolling his eyes slightly, thinking that even now, the old man couldn't resist taking a dig.
After Ryan spoke, Richard responded with a faint "hmm" and said nothing more. The old king walked ahead, with Ryan following behind. They continued walking in silence, with neither saying a word.
In the eerie silence, the two gradually approached the Grand Cathedral of the Grail Champions. The holy and magnificent cathedral shone brilliantly under the light of magic lamps. The stories of the twelve founding Grail Knights would be forever enshrined here, until the end of time.
"No one will forget Arthur and his Grail companions. No one will forget the twelve glorious founding battles. Without their sacrifices and victories, there would be no Brittany, the Knight Kingdom," Richard said, gently stroking his white goatee. The old king's eyes glistened with tears. "Ryan, as the heir to Llanduin's will and virtue, you must understand this feeling, right?"
"Sir Llanduin was the epitome of chivalry. He sacrificed himself to save Mousilon. Without his sacrifice, there would be no Mousilon today," Ryan nodded slightly. At this moment, all he felt was boundless reverence. There were no other emotions in his heart. Without sacrifice, there is no victory. Throughout history, countless martyrs' blood and glory have forged the foundation upon which humanity stands.
"Hahaha," Richard chuckled, a mix of ridicule and self-mockery in his tone. He pointed to a row of stone benches outside the Grail Cathedral. "I'm old; I can't walk much farther. Sit with me for a while."
"Alright," Ryan agreed and sat at one end of the bench, with Richard at the other.
"Have you ever hated me?" Richard asked, turning to face Ryan. "Since the Knight War in Arden Forest, I've made things difficult for you more than once. Later, I even tried to send you to the Arab Crusade. Tell me, as the Lady's chosen champion, have you ever harbored any hatred in your heart?"
"No, at most just annoyance," Ryan shook his head calmly. "We simply stood on different sides."
"Different sides?" Richard scoffed and then burst into laughter. His old, raspy laughter echoed far into the night. The commotion drew the attention of a few guards from the Grail Cathedral, who immediately saluted when they saw the old king and the new king sitting together before retreating. Richard glanced at the guards and sneered. "You think we're on different sides? Ryan, did you know that when I was young, I was a reformer, just like you?"
"???" Ryan furrowed his brow, pondering the meaning behind Richard's words.
Has the old man had a change of heart? Has he decided to support me now?
Or is he trying to curry favor before his retirement?
"Don't believe me?" Richard continued to sneer. "Have you heard of the Le-Angoulême Marine Corps? This was a unit fully equipped with muskets, created long before your old guard."
"I didn't expect you to be the one who founded that unit." Ryan decided to bide his time, feeling a bit surprised. The Le-Angoulême Duchy did have a so-called Marine Corps armed with muskets, but its presence was so insignificant (Ryan hadn't seen them in action since he arrived in Brittany) that he had almost forgotten about them. "But I don't recall ever seeing them."
"That's because that army has long since become useless," Richard nodded slightly, with a hint of regret in his tone. "Some thirty or forty years ago, when this army was first formed, it had some combat effectiveness. But over time, with a lack of battles and poor management, the soldiers became unwilling to fight once they received their pay. What was once a well-funded army, equipped with muskets purchased from the Empire, turned into a worthless force. I didn't plan as thoroughly as you did. I once thought that simply buying muskets and training our troops strictly would make our army as good as the Empire's."
"Without proper systems and management, just having the equipment won't work," Ryan remarked casually. "These ad hoc armies can only fight one major war. The soldiers either get enough money or die in battle."
"Now, do you believe I was once a reformer?" Richard's murky eyes glimmered faintly. "I realized this long ago, earlier than you did. When I became duke, John I and John II reigned successively. They waged reckless wars abroad and ruthlessly exploited the kingdom's resources and the wealth of the serfs. At the time, I was probably the most radical of all the dukes!"
"…It doesn't seem that way," Ryan admitted, not being particularly familiar with Brittany's earlier history and stories.
"You're probably wondering how I ended up like this," Richard chuckled again. "How did the once-ambitious Duke of Le-Angoulême, known as 'The Tiger,' Paladin Richard, become this cautious old man?"
"My king…" Ryan sighed softly, gazing up at the dark night sky. The moonlight bathed the entire street, casting an almost unreal glow over the Grail Cathedral.
"After I took the throne, I tried many things, many," Richard continued, speaking as if to himself. "But without exception, they all failed. I spent years, battered and bruised. I thought the dukes who elected me would support my decisions, but they didn't. Instead, they only focused on their own interests. I was constantly thwarted. Worse yet, I couldn't gain Lady Morgiana's support. Without her support, I knew the Lady wouldn't stand by me either."
"Ryan, the power of tradition and habit is terrifying. When a thousand-year-old country begins to decline, sometimes one
man's strength alone cannot save it. Ryan, do you really think John I and John II were the heinous villains and tyrants who harmed the country?" Richard turned to Ryan. "At first, I thought so too. But when I became king, I realized John I and John II weren't what they seemed. They also wanted to save this declining kingdom. They just didn't choose the right methods. Especially John II, who pinned his hopes on a holy knight crusade, thinking he could gain control of the kingdom by waging a decisive battle against the greenskins. But his end came when the army was completely annihilated, and he was deposed by Lady Morgiana."
Ryan sighed softly. He understood. The new king looked at the old king. "So, after trying many times, you chose to give up because John II's fate scared you."
"Yes, I was afraid," Richard nodded slightly. "Selflessness is often just an ideal. I have my family, my household, my vassals. I couldn't risk bringing disaster upon them for my selfish desires. I had no choice but to become the very thing I once despised—a rubber stamp, struggling to maintain stability, like an old captain desperately steering a leaking ship. I was tired, exhausted, but I couldn't stop. I didn't dare to. Ryan, you have your way of protecting the kingdom. I had mine."
At this point, Richard was already in tears. "I heard the stories of Arthur and the twelve founding Grail Knights when I was three. I once believed that if I were as brave and unyielding as Arthur and his companions, I could achieve great deeds. But when I became king, I found myself powerless to change the status quo. When I saw your various strange measures and repeated challenges to the existing order, my weary heart and fragile spirit instinctively opposed you because I knew this kingdom could no longer withstand even the slightest turmoil."
"My king…" Ryan gazed up at the black night sky. Who could understand the weight of the crown? People only see the glory and power it symbolizes, but few know its weight. It was enough to turn Richard, once a brave and proud Paladin, into what he had become.
Old, conservative, decayed, stubborn.
"I'm glad you found a way," Richard took out a corner of a handkerchief and wiped away the tears at the corners of his eyes. "It's your time now. The kingdom's future is about to be handed over to you. I have a feeling that under your rule, the Knight Kingdom will either thrive or descend into chaos."
"Just watch and see," Ryan didn't know what else to say. Even now, he wasn't entirely confident about becoming king. The whole kingdom would soon be under his rule, and he felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. The future of this nation would rest on his shoulders.
"Hmph, you're still an outsider," Richard remarked casually. "But what does it matter? Arthur was an outsider too. The people of Brittany all came from beyond the Gray Mountains. Since you've married Sulia, you're one of us now."
"People don't know their fate, nor can they predict it," Ryan rubbed his finger under his nose and then spread his hands. "A man's destiny, of course, depends on his own efforts, but it also has to consider the course of history. My king, how do you think the adopted son of a Nord lord became a knight king?"
"Heh, it's not the first time. Wasn't King Teylevor also an illegitimate son of an Imperial duke?" Richard mused. "After thirty-some years on the throne, I reflected and realized I've only really done three things."
"First, after John I and John II's reckless wars and decades of chaos, I oversaw the recovery of production, stabilized the political situation, and ended the internal conflicts among the dukes."
"Second, I halted knight wars for over twenty years, restoring the kingdom's strength and increasing the number of knights."
"Third, I reached an understanding with the former Emperor of the Empire, Luitpold, maintaining peace between Brittany and the Empire for nearly thirty years."
Richard spoke to himself. Ryan nodded repeatedly, smiling. The old king wasn't speaking for Ryan's benefit but for his own. To be fair, Richard had indeed made his own contributions to the kingdom.
"If there's anything else I've achieved, it's attempting to introduce Imperial technology and facing the large-scale invasion of Egil. But those are secondary. My main contributions are just those three small things. I'm ashamed to say I've only made a modest contribution."
"The future is yours now, Ryan. Beneath the heavens lies your heaven."
"May the Lady bless you."
With that, the old king stood up and left without looking back at Ryan. He walked away alone, his frail figure no longer reflecting the strength of his prime. But the pride in his heart and the relief of shedding his burdens quickened his pace. Turning a corner, Richard disappeared from view. Ryan knew this was likely the last time he would see Richard.
"Alright, now it's my turn."
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