Chapitre 83: Chapter 83: The Lady of the Lake's Thoughts
After booking a room at the inn, Ryan tossed a handful of silver coins to the three streetwalkers. "Ladies, I don't intend to do anything. I just want to chat. If you're willing, this money is yours. If not..."
The three streetwalkers looked disappointed but glanced at each other. Seeing the money, they quickly agreed. "Of course, Mr. Rod. You can certainly pay us just to chat."
"Good!" Ryan motioned for the three women to sit down. He poured himself a glass of wine and sat on the other side of the room. "How's business, ladies? It seems like there aren't many customers."
"In this season, how many customers can we get? Generous gentlemen like you who just want to chat are rare," one of the streetwalkers flirted, making Ryan feel nauseous, but he forced himself to stay composed. "It's just your luck that I don't feel like doing anything tonight."
"Sir, is your reed stick not working? Want to test it on me?" The streetwalker persisted, but Ryan remained unmoved, not bothering to refute such insults.
He knew his own capabilities.
"There will be a chance, ladies, but not now. Or do you not want the money?" Ryan said calmly.
"Alright, Mr. Rod, what would you like to chat about? We'll accompany you."
After shifting topics a bit to warm up the atmosphere, Ryan knew the time was right.
"I'm curious about the Aesthetic Association. You know, I just met Ms. Anieda, and I'm very curious about her."
"The Aesthetic Association?" Streetwalker Sarah's immediate reaction to the Aesthetic Association was one of disgust, as did the other two women. "Mr. Rod, we're not making things up, but the Aesthetic Association is indeed annoying, very annoying."
"Very annoying? Can you elaborate?"
"The Aesthetic Association started as a group of scholars, a bunch of artists who knew how to write poetry and paint. Merchants had money, and artists needed it, so the Aesthetic Association was born." Sarah spread her hands, her tone full of sarcasm. "Those so-called artists are no different from normal people. They need prostitutes, they have various needs, and they hate marriage the most. They need people like us even more. Am I wrong, Mr. Rod?"
"Of course not. And then?" Ryan remained unfazed. Everyone has needs, which is normal.
"Over time, the Aesthetic Association grew bigger. They hosted salons and parties in the Temple University District. We, the lower-class people, never attended, so we don't know what happens inside. But once those artists and merchants join the Aesthetic Association, they lose interest in us lowly streetwalkers."
"The artists who are keen on the Aesthetic Association start to love makeup and follow trends. They travel with many servants to keep their expensive, luxurious clothes free of mud and keep dirty urchins out of sight." Sarah concluded. "I heard the Aesthetic Association has been lobbying the City Council to redevelop the canal district, to demolish and rebuild houses and replan streets, but the council has discussed it several times without any results. It seems to have fallen through."
"Oh, I just attended a City Council banquet tonight. It felt fine. What about Ms. Anieda, the president? What do you know about her?" Ryan asked casually.
"Things started going wrong with that woman." One streetwalker began ranting. "I don't know when it started, but Anieda became the leader of the Aesthetic Association. Her wealth is endless. She supports art groups in dozens of cities and has built several orphanages. Though we don't like her, what she does is good. But it seems the orphans in those orphanages have a high mortality rate and few reach adulthood..."
"I see." Ryan nodded. In this context, high infant mortality was normal. He didn't say much and, after a few more casual topics, he suddenly raised his hand.
In his palm, a bright white orb illuminated the entire room. "Ladies! Look here! I have a surprise for you!"
As the three streetwalkers' eyes were drawn to the bright light, the orb flashed brightly, almost piercing through the closed windows, and then the room fell silent.
Thirty minutes later, at 53 Amber Avenue.
Ryan returned to the guest room next to the master bedroom. He sat in a luxurious wooden chair, the room lit only by the cold moonlight. As he pondered the information he had gathered, he felt the presence of the Lady of the Lake nearby and spoke softly. "My lady?"
The room filled with the fragrance of flowers and fresh spring water. The Lady of the Lake, wearing a flower crown and radiant golden hair, appeared before Ryan. Unlike usual, she did not use mist to hide her stunning beauty. Colorful flowers adorned her ankle-length golden hair, and she wore a white porcelain dress adorned with butterfly flowers. Holding a golden chalice, her slender, bare feet hovered above the ground. Concerned that her light was too bright, Ryan quickly closed the curtains, his guilty look making the Lady of the Lake smile, but she did not stop him.
As Ryan pulled the curtains, the Lady of the Lake glanced at a wall painting and casually commented. "Isn't that Eduardo's ancestor, Crillon de Gui Francisco? Was this his family's house?"
"It is now my house, my lady." Ryan knelt before the Lady of the Lake.
"Then why do you keep Crillon's portrait on the wall?" With a wave of her hand, the painting transformed into a scene of Lake Brittany. In the beautiful scene, the Lady of the Lake held a chalice while King Arthur Pendragon knelt before her, drinking from the chalice.
She extended her hands, motioning for Ryan to rise. "Your power is growing stronger, my champion. With your help, I can now steadily descend to the material world for a period."
Ryan nodded slowly.
As a deity, the Lady of the Lake could not exist in the material world for long unless she chose to descend herself, risking great danger, or by possessing her chosen champion.
Both methods had their drawbacks.
A descended deity was powerful but far from invincible. If a deity chose to descend, they would be in extreme danger, easily falling for good. Chaos forces were much stronger than order forces, and countless chaos champions, demon princes, and even chaos gods would see a descending deity as a prime target.
Ulric, the God of Wolves, had shown the danger—despite his power, he was no match for the first Chaos Everchosen, Asavar Kul, and was at a disadvantage in their battle.
Possession was another method, but the cost was high for the possessed champion. The longer a deity possessed someone, the greater the damage. Those not strong enough to withstand possession often died upon release. As the Lady of the Lake's chosen champion and representative, the Lake Witch Morgiana, with her Saint-level strength, could endure short-term possession and communication, but this always shortened her lifespan. Few Lake Witches lived beyond 200 years, repeatedly going through cycles of aging and rebirth.
As for the Grail Knights, the Lady of the Lake could only communicate through dreams. To protect these precious knights, her messages were vague, forcing them to interpret her will themselves.
But Ryan was different. His extraordinarily strong soul and vast spiritual energy allowed him to converse with the deity for extended periods. He was a constant source of purified warp energy, and his unique ability to block the corruption of chaos made him an ideal conduit.
Thus, Ryan became a bridge to the mortal world. The Lady of the Lake could rely on him to supply warp energy, allowing her to descend for longer periods. She regretted not discovering Ryan sooner, lamenting that he had been wasted as a mere knight by Ulric.
"...Did you erase the memories of those streetwalkers?" The Lady of the Lake answered Ryan's question indirectly, appreciating the luxurious room. She didn't need to rush with Ryan as she did with Morgiana, fearing her body would collapse under the strain.
"It was the best method." Ryan stood, gazing at the altered painting. He suddenly remarked, "King Arthur was a man? I always thought he was a woman."
"Arthur was a woman??" The Lady of the Lake's tone was puzzled. "Every myth, every epic, every document records Arthur as a man. And from what I saw, Arthur was unmistakably a man."
"No, just influenced by some Moon People." Ryan thought his past life's influences were deeply ingrained. To avoid awkwardness, he smoothly changed the subject. "I can confirm that the Aesthetic Association is a Chaos cult, my lady."
"Are you sure?" The Lady of the Lake held her chalice, floating around the room before settling on the most luxurious leather chair. Her golden hair almost covered the entire chair. She gestured for Ryan to sit and speak.
"Followers of that deity are easily corrupted by intense sensory experiences. The cult exists everywhere, from the smallest cottages to city corners, even in the grand cathedral. The Aesthetic Association is a Chaos cult, primarily corrupting the upper nobles." Ryan sat in a wooden chair about three or four meters away from the Lady of the Lake. "That woman, if we can call her that, is just too well disguised. Her so-called beauty is just rotting beneath her appearance and decoration."
The Lady of the Lake nodded slowly, accepting his analysis. "You are very insightful, my champion. The Aesthetic Association's promotion of refined self-interest is indeed infuriating. This ideology has taken root among Bretonnia's upper nobles, undermining the knightly virtues I've established. They encourage selfishness and greed under the guise of refinement. The Aesthetic Association must be eradicated. This is your task."
"So the problem is simple: eliminate
the Aesthetic Association. I need money, and the Aesthetic Association is wealthy. It's a Chaos cult, so destroying it and seizing its assets benefits us both, my lady."
"You're interested in the wealth of the Aesthetic Association, Ryan." The Lady of the Lake raised her chalice, her blue eyes fixed on Ryan. "You like killing two birds with one stone."
"Everyone needs gold. Without gold, we can't fight Chaos. We can't go to war empty-handed. Equipping a knight costs a lot. Ideals are one thing, but reality is harsh. When someone is starving, talking about knightly virtues and ideals is useless. Giving them two loaves of bread is a better choice."
The Lady of the Lake laughed softly and nodded. "Many young knights don't see as far as you do. They enjoy feasts while expecting their starving servants to risk their lives for honor."
"But my lady, you never stop them." Ryan laughed lightly with the Lady of the Lake, enjoying their casual conversation.
"Imposing strict rules won't help them as much as letting them understand themselves. Rigid rules only lead knights into dead ends. Bretonnia's titles are limited, my champion. Titles should be reserved for the talented and powerful. Only those who fully comprehend the eight knightly virtues can undergo the transformation on the Grail quest, and I will appear before them." The Lady of the Lake raised her chalice high, then lowered it. "Few knights complete the trials. My divine power is not infinite, so the unworthy must be eliminated. Only the best, the strongest, and the most virtuous knights can join the upper nobility and the Grail Knights."
"It should be so." The Lady of the Lake belonged to the Order faction but did not favor nurturing incompetents. Ryan agreed with a mature elimination mechanism.
"The road ahead is fraught with danger, Ryan, my champion. Come closer." The Lady of the Lake beckoned him.
"As you wish, my lady."
The concept of divine possession is like this: to build a skyscraper, you need dozens of meters of foundation. To build a house, you only need a concrete slab.
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