As Bodrick's victorious roar echoed through the Lion's Ring stadium, the entire audience (except for the Wood Elves) stood up, giving the old duke a thunderous round of applause.
Since inheriting the title of Duke, Bodrick's achievements had been widely recognized. Under his leadership, Bordeleaux had become one of the most prosperous regions in the kingdom, industrially and commercially (before Ryan's arrival). His Sea God Fleet was undefeated, and despite his relatively small territory, Bordeleaux's knights were among the kingdom's best, thanks to Bodrick's strict management. He never allowed knights of inadequate strength or questionable morals to tarnish the duchy's reputation.
For decades, Bodrick had worked tirelessly without a moment's rest. Due to his inability to find a reliable steward or deputy, he managed the duchy himself, missing the best time for his Grail Quest. It wasn't until his son, Fedmond, finally returned that Bodrick could consider passing on the duchy. However, running the entire duchy was still too much for an heir who had spent decades on a quest. Even today, Bodrick couldn't fully trust his son to take over.
But today, with his courage and strength, Bodrick proved that although he was old, he was still one of the kingdom's undisputed strongest, the Sea God's chosen champion and a devout follower of the Lady!
"Haha! That was amazing! Absolutely delightful! By Grungni's beard and Grimnir's axe, I love seeing pointy ears get beaten! Well done, Bodrick, my friend!" Belgar, the true king of Eight Peaks, cheered, leading the Angrund Clan dwarfs in applause. The dwarfs loved nothing more than watching elves get humiliated.
On the other side, Teclis's Swordmasters and High Elf nobles smirked coldly, loudly discussing why their forest-dwelling kin had lost so miserably even after summoning their animal companions.
"Those Aeslyr are so weak. When it comes to strength, you have to look at us Asur," they sneered.
Teclis, however, looked worriedly at the Wood Elves. He knew his kin's temperaments well and feared that the Wood Elves might suddenly cause trouble, jeopardizing the fragile alliance he had worked so hard to establish.
Sure enough, Araloth's face turned red and green with anger. The Wood Elf Queen's chosen champion clenched his spear tightly as his followers grew increasingly agitated. They felt a deep sense of shame and an indescribable, burning rage, many of them ready to fight.
But after glancing at the royal box, Araloth shook his head. "Quick, check if Estel can be saved. And pack up—we're leaving!"
"Lord Araloth?" His followers looked at him in disbelief.
"This is Queen Ariel's order," Araloth said, his face darkening. He couldn't bear the humiliation, especially in front of Lilith. Under his command, the Wood Elves quickly gathered the wounded Estel and left the arena, then Korona entirely.
In the royal box, Ryan shook his head with a sigh. "That's elves for you—they're even worse losers than dwarfs. They always consider themselves the beacon of civilization, but often what they bring to the world isn't order and protection but arrogance and prejudice. When humans are weak and humble, elves enjoy interacting with them, showcasing their power and strength just enough to bask in the despair of humans who can never catch up and the joy of receiving their generous pity. At this time, the elves are kind, civilized, and friendly.
"But when humans start to catch up, elves completely change their stance. They fear, loathe, and worry. They wish humans would remain the primitive savages who hunt with fire and farm with sticks. I've often wondered if not for the severe population decline of the elves and the never-ending wars between High and Dark Elves and the external threat of Chaos, there would inevitably be a great war between elves and humans and dwarfs."
"Not all elves are like that," the Lady of the Lake countered, unable to hold back. "Ryan, you're being overly biased."
"…Perhaps, but I must admit that Teclis has changed my mind on many things," Ryan acknowledged with a nod. "Well… My Lady, it's your turn now."
The Lady of the Lake sighed softly, rising from her seat to present the award to Bodrick.
The goddess slowly approached the exhausted duke, who was kneeling before her. Bodrick, breathing heavily, dared not look up at his goddess.
A delicate jade hand extended from her long sleeve. The goddess grabbed the golden cup and suddenly hurled it to the ground, smashing it!
The entire crowd gasped as the cup deformed and disappeared into the dust.
"My Lady?" Bodrick stammered, trembling.
"Bodrick de Bordeleaux, you have proven your valor and virtue before all. This golden cup is no longer worthy of you. Now, come forward and claim your true reward," the goddess declared, her alabaster hands cradling the holy Grail, its pure, glowing liquid shimmering in the dark. "Today, I share the Grail's honor with you, my knight. May you forever uphold the spirit of chivalry. When darkness falls, and the forces of destruction draw near, may you, as you have today, defend your beliefs with your life and soul."
"I will!" Tears welled up in Bodrick's eyes as he inched forward on his knees, reverently bowing his head to drink from the Grail's sacred waters.
Under the gaze of thousands, Bodrick's life and soul were forever transformed by the Grail. Youth and vitality returned to the old duke, as divine power elevated him to new heights!
"A new Grail Knight has been born," Ryan mused, just as the Dark Elf Olica whispered something in his ear. Ryan nodded, and Olica quietly left the arena.
"Where's Olica going?" Surya asked curiously.
"She has some matters to handle," Ryan replied softly. "Some unwelcome undead have come to spy, and Olica is dealing with them."
"I see."
—I am the strongest line of Grail Knights—
Meanwhile, in Korona, a lively gathering was taking place at the "Horned Knife" inn.
Today, Korona should have been extremely crowded due to the coronation ceremony. The capital of the Knight Kingdom was teeming with guests and throngs of people, making inns highly sought after.
The "Horned Knife" was one such inn, a two-story establishment covering over 400 square meters, featuring a private brewery, a "King's Suite," a bar, three public lounges, three luxury suites, ten single rooms, and two large dormitories. It also boasted a small garden and a cellar.
The innkeeper had planned to make a killing during the coronation and perhaps find some guests to play cards with.
But the day before the coronation, a group of strange guests arrived. They slapped down 200 gold marks on the counter and told the innkeeper, "We're booking this place for two days. Here's the deposit."
The money was more than enough, so despite his curiosity, the innkeeper agreed to let the guests have the inn.
Now, these guests were feasting in the inn's main hall, while Schultz's hired chef rushed in and out of the kitchen, sweat pouring down his face as he brought out dish after dish. All the while, he marveled at how much these guests were eating.
Even six bears couldn't eat this much!
Angron, Jonson, Rogal, Clarkson, Vulkan, and Schultz sat around a table in the hall, each raising a mug of beer. "To our brother, Ryan Malcador, the new king—cheers!"
"Cheers!"
"To Father, to our brothers who have returned and those who haven't—cheers!"
"Cheers~"
"To the countless human warriors who sacrificed themselves for the Great Crusade, for humanity's great cause, and for the conquest of the galaxy, to all our glorious victories and tragic defeats—cheers!"
"Cheers!!!"
The five Primarchs downed their large mugs of Imperial beer in one gulp, while Schultz basked in the honor of dining with them, his spirits soaring.
"Cheers~" Little Devonhill, seated beside Angron in a custom-made high chair, raised his small mug of warm milk. The child, with his cherubic face and soulful eyes, was utterly adorable. Fearless and instinctively sensing the kinship in the room, the boy joined in the toasts.
"Cheers, cheers~" Angron cheerfully clinked his beer mug with his nephew's, then lifted Devonhill into his arms. He pointed to the stern-faced Dark Angel Primarch beside him. "Devonhill, let me introduce you. This grumpy guy who always looks like someone owes him a life is your Uncle Jonson!"
"Hello, Uncle Jonson!" Devonhill said, bowing respectfully.
Jonson's face twisted slightly as if he didn't know how to respond. He glanced around at his brothers, who were all watching him with amusement. Angron, laughing heartily, pushed Devonhill into Jonson's arms. "Here, take him! If anything goes wrong, you'll have to answer to Father!"
"Um…" Jonson awkwardly held Devonhill, managing a strained smile as he finally blurted out, "May you always be loyal, my nephew. Uncle will always watch over you."
Then, as if holding a hot potato, Jonson hastily passed the confused child to Vulkan.
"Hahahahaha!" The inn erupted in laughter as the Primarchs wiped tears from their eyes. "Jonson, you're like a block of smelly stone
—so hard and so cold! What a fool you are!"
Jonson's expression darkened, resigned to taking all the criticism.
The Dark Angel Primarch's mind, however, was elsewhere. If I were to train my nephew, would it be better to entrust him to Azrael or Azmodai?
This is a dilemma.
No, Sepher is the best choice.
Yes, it's decided!
"Haha, this black giant who looks like he's been burned to a crisp, and occasionally flashes his white teeth, is your Uncle Vulkan!" Angron continued with a grin. "He's a good man—you can even pee on him if you like."
"My dear nephew, may your mind and will burn as brightly as the flames in the furnace," Vulkan said warmly, holding Devonhill in one hand and giving him a kind smile, earning a polite, "Hello, Uncle Vulkan~"
Next, Clarkson and Rogal each took turns holding their nephew. Little Devonhill, like a toy, made the rounds among the Primarchs before being returned to Angron. The World Eater carefully cut the beef into small, square pieces, pairing it with bread and honeyed milk, feeding Devonhill bit by bit. The atmosphere in the inn was lively and warm.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Everyone instantly turned their attention to the inn's entrance.
"Knock, knock, knock."
"Is anyone there?"
"We're here to inspect for suspicious individuals!"
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