Inside the room, some commotion was taking place, but since the Lady of the Lake had closed the door, Ryan and the others could only hear the sound of slaps. Bellegar and the white dwarves sneered with satisfaction, loudly declaring that the pointy-eared elf had finally gotten what he deserved. Ryan chuckled to himself, not interested in probing further. It was clear the Lady of the Lake wouldn't overlook such an obvious mistake from Araloth. The goddess was now one of Ryan's most steadfast allies—partners in both interests and romance (perhaps even engaged?). Faced with such a serious offense like fleeing from battle, which nearly caused the army to collapse, the Lady of the Lake was absolutely furious.
This was one of the rare times Ryan had seen the Lady of the Lake so enraged.
From inside the room, the sound of heavy objects hitting the ground and things shattering continued to echo. The white dwarves snorted with satisfaction upon hearing it, while Bellegar tightly gripped his Angrund Hammer, silently drinking beer to quench his thirst.
Everyone waited for the Lady of the Lake to pass judgment. Out of respect for Ryan, the dwarves were willing to let her handle the situation. Bellegar did so solely out of respect for Ryan, while the white dwarves understood that the Lady of the Lake was actually Lilith, the Moon Goddess of the High Elves.
Veronica adjusted her long black-brown hair and sat obediently next to Ryan. She had nearly exhausted her magical energy, but the witch had earned everyone's respect through her power. In this battle, she and the entire Garland Witch group had eliminated nearly six thousand greenskins and Skaven, leaving the battlefield littered with scorched corpses.
Though Veronica was a strong figure in her own right, she remained quiet when it came to military and political matters, often staying close to Ryan. Holding onto his arm, she whispered with some concern, "Dear, is everything going to be alright?"
"Right now, we can only trust that the Lady will handle things," Ryan sighed. Araloth had truly messed things up this time. The relationship between the elves and dwarves had been improving, thanks to the efforts of Phoenix King Finubar. The Wood Elves' assistance in helping Bellegar reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain was a perfect opportunity to further thaw relations.
However, in hindsight, Ryan couldn't help but shake his head. The problem lay in the nature of elves.
Both elves and dwarves were proud, face-saving races, taking immense pride in their cultures. They had once united against the forces of Chaos, but why had they later severed ties so completely?
It boiled down to their personalities. Simply put, both races were arrogant and concerned about their image, but the way they expressed it and their core issues were completely different.
In simpler terms, dwarves were rude on the surface, while elves appeared polite on the outside.
Dwarves were stubborn, inflexible, and loud, often complaining and looking down on everything. When humans asked for help, dwarves would make a show of their superiority, making it difficult to gain their assistance. However, once a dwarf made a promise, they would follow through, even at the cost of their lives. They upheld their ancestral oaths and contracts without question, as these bonds were the glue that held their society together.
In battle, Ryan knew he could trust the dwarves with the toughest fights, without worrying about betrayal or desertion. This was why humans and dwarves often formed alliances, working together and forging deep friendships.
Elves, on the other hand, were arrogant, aloof, and held themselves in the highest regard. They believed their race and culture were the finest in the world. While they appeared courteous and polite, this often gave humans the false impression that elves were friendly. When asked for help or cooperation, elves would often agree out of a sense of pride.
But this was usually just lip service. In reality, elves had their own way of thinking: "I don't care what you think. I'll do it my way." They would dismiss others' opinions, convinced only their own approach was correct. They rarely considered the thoughts or needs of others, and they often failed to honor commitments.
In the pre-battle military meetings, Ryan had been wary of Araloth because the Wood Elf army had no reason to fight to the death. They were there to claim their share of the spoils. Araloth had proposed defending the city, but Ryan disagreed, and the decision to fight in the field was made by a two-to-one vote. Araloth, lacking both numbers and influence, reluctantly accepted the outcome.
At that time, Ryan sensed something was off, so he had the Wood Elves positioned behind the dwarf formation, with the Bretonnian army on the flanks. But Araloth strongly objected, arguing vehemently that Ryan was underestimating the Asrai by not giving them a crucial role.
Faced with such accusations, Ryan had little choice but to relent. After all, the Wood Elves weren't offering their support for free, and they deserved their share of the risk. If they suffered heavy losses, they would undoubtedly demand more of the spoils afterward. Considering they had come to help in a time of need, Ryan and the others would have accommodated their demands.
Araloth was the chosen champion of Ariel, surely he wouldn't be that incompetent, right?
It turned out he was! Ryan was furious just thinking about it. If Araloth couldn't handle the task, why didn't he just admit it? Instead, he insisted on taking the mission and then failed to carry it out! This resulted in the death of Harhaf the Gold Seeker, and if it hadn't been for the white dwarves' timely arrival, the entire expedition army might have collapsed or been annihilated!
Thinking it over, Ryan could only laugh in exasperation. This was typical elven behavior. Araloth had been too confident, spoiled by his previous successes. As the favored hero of both Orion and Ariel, and even once chosen by Lilith herself, he had become arrogant and stubborn.
"Ryan Malcador," the white dwarf Grimbrindal spoke up, his gaze fixed on Ryan with interest. "You didn't do too badly. Thanks to your efforts, Bellegar has a chance to reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain. The dwarves owe you their gratitude, even if your command was mediocre and your combat skills barely passable. However, you did make the mistake of allying with unreliable pointy-eared elves. Clearly, you didn't heed my advice—never trust the pointy-eared folk unless there are Chaos demons in the room. You humans are still too young and inexperienced. Do you understand what I mean? In the future, you'll need to improve your stance!"
Here it comes, Ryan thought, feeling a headache coming on. This was typical dwarven praise—rude and somewhat offensive in tone. Fortunately, Ryan had spent enough time around dwarves to filter out the unnecessary parts and focus on the key message. Standing up politely, he pulled Veronica along and bowed, smiling as he said, "I humbly thank Lord Grimbrindal for his wise counsel. I will remember your teachings."
"Hahaha!" Grimbrindal was pleased with Ryan's response. He laughed heartily, stroking his long white beard adorned with golden rings, and gave Ryan a look of approval. "You are indeed a humble and respectful human. I like you. Now, tell me, was it really your idea to have Araloth retreat to defend Streampost? Be honest with me!"
"Uh…" Ryan feigned difficulty, bowing his head, giving the dwarf plenty of room to work with.
"Look at my beard, young man. Look at it!" Grimbrindal huffed. "The length of my beard tells me your tricks are too shallow. You don't need to cover for that pointy-eared fool or take the blame for him!"
"Ryan has done great service to our Angrund clan, and we will always remember that!" Bellegar snorted. "But we won't forgive that elf! Those are two different matters!"
With no choice, Ryan nodded in agreement. At this point, all they could do was wait for the outcome of the Lady of the Lake's negotiation with Araloth.
Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long. Only a few moments after their conversation ended, the Lady of the Lake and Araloth emerged from the room. The Wood Elf hero looked utterly defeated, his face swollen with a large handprint across it, his expression full of despair.
As the door opened, they overheard the Lady of the Lake sternly saying, "I'm very disappointed in you! Don't make things harder for Ryan. You should reflect on your actions!" She then turned and sat next to Ryan, signaling Araloth to do as she had instructed.
"I sincerely apologize, King Bellegar. On behalf of the Asrai, I offer my deepest apologies to your kin and to the fallen dwarves. This is my fault. My leadership failed, and I take full responsibility. I... I apologize." Araloth stood before Bellegar, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white, his lips bleeding from biting down in frustration. This was a deep humiliation for him, but under Lilith's gaze, he had no choice but to bow his head and apologize.
"If an apology could fix things, why did our ancestors forge axes and hammers?" the white dwarf retorted mercilessly. "Such an insincere apology! We dwarves do not accept it! And you should be kneeling!"
"Ugh…" Araloth's face turned purple with shame. His body trembled, but he couldn't bring himself to kneel.
At this moment
, Ryan stepped in. He spoke gently, "This matter of apologies is between Brother Bellegar and Lord Araloth. It doesn't concern the rest of us, so why don't we give them some space? Would you all be willing to do that, as a favor to me?"
Araloth shot Ryan a grateful look.
"Alright, we'll step outside," the white dwarf decided after some thought, ultimately giving Ryan a bit of face. They all left the hall, leaving Bellegar and Araloth alone inside.
A few minutes later, the two finally emerged. Araloth looked utterly humiliated, but with a faint sense of relief. Bellegar, on the other hand, seemed both reluctant and satisfied as he said, "Since the pointy-eared elf has knelt and apologized, and is willing to make a series of compensations, we'll consider this matter closed."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. A major internal conflict had been averted, thanks to the efforts of Ryan and the Lady of the Lake, and the fragile alliance was preserved.
It was ironic but also inevitable. Ryan exchanged glances with Veronica, who responded with a look that said, "This has nothing to do with me," while Ryan could only sigh deeply.
With the battle over, everyone was exhausted. After arranging for patrols, Ryan prepared to rest. Amid the snowstorm, his bannerman and Grail Knight, Baron Armand of Morowen, approached with a list in hand. "Your Majesty, this is the list of fallen knights."
"Alright." Ryan took the list and skimmed it, recognizing many familiar names. After a moment, he handed it back to Armand, asking quietly, "What about the list of Old Guard and peasant soldiers?"
"The Old Guard's list is with Bertrand. The army is still verifying it, and as for the peasant soldiers, their list will take time. There were too many casualties, not just at the Gates of Titan, but also at the battle at Valaya's Gate," Armand replied, looking up at the stormy peaks of Eight Peaks Mountain, his long hair blowing in the wind.
"Do your best, Armand. Whatever happens, make sure the compensations are paid in full. Let them know that anyone who tries to embezzle the peasants' compensation will not escape my, or the Lady's, wrath," Ryan instructed.
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Armand saluted. Ryan noticed a small cut on the Grail Knight's forehead, likely from a Skaven slingstone, but it was just a minor flesh wound. With a Grail Knight's healing ability, it would be fine in a day or two, so Ryan simply patted him on the shoulder.
Soon after, Baron Lucien of Spire Peak and Duke Hex of Devon arrived to report on the battle. These two were among the few remaining veterans under Ryan's command. He gave them both words of encouragement and assured them that when they returned to Bretonnia, there would be rewards for their efforts.
With everything arranged, Ryan left François in charge of the military matters and returned to his quarters with Veronica. Their lodging was a large house at the top of Streampost. When Ryan opened the door, the Lady of the Lake was already seated on his bed, arms crossed, her expression less than pleasant. Dressed in a long gown, the goddess's bare legs, wrapped in flesh-colored sheer stockings, extended from beneath her dress. She wore black peep-toe heels, and unusually, she hadn't applied any nail polish, indicating the rush of recent events. Upon seeing Ryan enter, the Lady of the Lake clapped her hands, signaling him to come over.
The dark elf Olica had already changed back into her black-and-white maid uniform, complete with a headband, white garter stockings, and black lace-up heels. She was lighting a fire in the hearth, but upon seeing Ryan, she immediately stood up to help him remove his armor. "Master!"
"Olica, thank you for your hard work. You should rest now," Ryan nodded to her, then also signaled to Veronica that she could go rest. Though she hadn't fought on the front lines, the Garland Witch was covered in dirt and snow. She nodded, directing her apprentice to prepare bathwater for her.
"Ryan, I've already reprimanded Araloth. Don't worry," the Lady of the Lake said, pulling Ryan to sit beside her. The goddess still wore a trace of frustration on her face. "I hope you understand. Araloth's past successes have made him overconfident. His personal bravery is undeniable, but he made a serious mistake in command. Don't let this incident make you harbor ill feelings toward the Wood Elves or the elves in general. At least, I will always be on your side."
"We still need the Wood Elves' help to reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain," Ryan nodded slowly. He understood why the Lady of the Lake had intervened—to give everyone a way out. "After this battle, the conquest of Eight Peaks Mountain is within reach. Our next plan isn't a frontal assault."
"What are you planning next?" The Lady of the Lake's expression softened when she saw that Ryan wasn't holding a grudge. She wrapped her arms around his and leaned against him. "Shall we discuss it?"
"Our next move is to form a five-person Sacred Domain team to enter the underground passages of Eight Peaks Mountain and take out Headtaker Queek and that Supreme Verminlord. Those two rat bastards need to die!"
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