Although Olica had said she wanted to try on the stockings herself, in the end, she still needed Ryan's help to put them on. Compared to thigh-high stockings with garters or lace stockings secured with garter belts, pantyhose were obviously more troublesome to wear.
Thus, whether it was Olica or Veronica, both of whom preferred combat, they tended to favor garter stockings when they did wear them.
In a way, it was also more convenient for certain activities.
However, as long as Ryan liked it, that was enough.
These things weren't a big issue when it came to Ryan's preferences. After all, Ryan's tastes had remained consistent from start to finish, making him easy to please.
The dark elf maid let out a soft sigh. She had been severely injured by Be'lakor's shadow arrows during the Battle of Kongquata, with her left arm, left leg, chest, and abdomen all suffering serious wounds. Afterward, Olica hadn't followed Ryan into the subsequent battles. Instead, she had rested in the camp for over three weeks. Now, after boarding the ship, Olica had been forced by Ryan to temporarily step down from her duties as his maid and focus on recovering as a patient.
Even so, Olica still had difficulty moving. Her fractured left arm and leg had mostly healed, but the dark elf had to limit her movements as much as possible.
Of course, this was also thanks to Ryan's "diligent efforts." If not for Ryan, Olica might have needed years, or even over a decade, to fully recover. The chaotic energy left by Be'lakor wasn't ordinary—it carried corrosive and cursed properties. Without Ryan repeatedly purifying her, Olica would have taken a long time to dispel the lingering chaotic energy.
Naturally, with more attention given to Olica, less was given to Veronica. Already drained of magic and in desperate need of replenishment, Veronica was furious, accusing Ryan of favoring the new over the old, calling him an ungrateful scoundrel. She even moved out of her own tent and into Ryan's quarters.
Ryan himself was also a patient. Having faced Be'lakor head-on, he was severely injured. With all three of them in need of rest, Ryan had recently been holed up in the King's suite aboard the ironclad ship, only occasionally venturing out to inspect the vessel.
With Ryan's help, Olica lifted the blanket. The dark elf stretched her arms, her slender and curvaceous body on full display before Ryan. Her bare feet touched the carpet, revealing ten delicate, slender toes painted with light purple nail polish.
"Master, help me put them on~" Olica cooed, extending her long legs and swaying them in front of Ryan. "I don't have the strength. You do it for me~"
"Alright, alright~ alright!" Ryan couldn't help but swallow hard.
Olica lifted her beautiful leg, placing her fair foot into Ryan's large hand. Ryan rolled up the stocking and gently slipped it over Olica's toes. After a slight adjustment, the gray, starry aurora-patterned ultra-thin Lycra stocking covered her delicate toes. Her toes slightly curled, aligning the seams of the stocking with the tips of her toes. With Ryan's help, the stocking was carefully pulled up until both of her legs were covered in the semi-transparent fabric.
"Master, I'm done. Do I look good?" Olica asked in a sweet voice.
"You look beautiful. My Olica is the best." Ryan couldn't resist lowering his head to gently nuzzle his dark elf maid's calf.
"Wait, Master, don't be so impatient." Olica let out a soft sigh.
Truly a master with no ambition.
As a fragment of the Pale Queen, Olica was well aware of Ryan's reputation in the Warp.
The gods of Order, for the most part, held no ill will toward Ryan, but his rigid alignment meant that, aside from the Lady of the Lake, most gods didn't hold him in particularly high regard.
Contrary to what many might think, the Chaos Gods despised Ryan.
Yes, even Slaanesh despised Ryan.
In Ryan's early years, Slaanesh had actually been quite fond of him, thinking the young man had some interesting tastes and a penchant for novelty.
But over a decade had passed, and Ryan's preferences hadn't changed at all. Our Primarch had repeatedly disappointed Slaanesh.
Slaanesh's doctrine wasn't actually about carnal pleasures. The core of Slaanesh's teachings was "try every thrill, tolerate every sin." Slaanesh loved gradual progression, constantly challenging oneself.
For example, if you liked women, why not try men? If you liked humans, why not try orcs and beastmen? If you liked mortals, why not try having a Chaos demon shoved into your brain or even a wasp's nest? And finally, why not try splitting yourself into pieces and... well, you get the idea.
So Olica knew that in Slaanesh's eyes, Ryan, who had stuck to the same few preferences from start to finish, was a complete lowbrow, a trash with no ambition. Slaanesh had lost all interest in him.
The master is mine! Olica signaled for Ryan to wait as she stood up. She adjusted the stockings on her thighs, smoothing out the fabric around her knees to ensure a perfect fit. Then she bent down, running her hands from her thighs down to her slender calves, smoothing out any wrinkles around her ankles. Finally, she stretched the stockings evenly to her waist, ensuring they hugged her curves perfectly. Satisfied, she nodded. "All done, Master."
Ryan took a deep breath and nodded. He reached out, gently stroking the surface of the starry aurora-patterned ultra-thin Lycra stockings, softly chanting an Old One's incantation.
The two golden spirit patterns on the gray stockings flashed, as if responding to Ryan's power. The patterns glowed brightly, and Olica felt an almost melting sensation of extreme delicacy. The high-level spirit pattern on her abdomen also began to glow.
"Mmm!" As if struck by an electric current, Olica couldn't help but let out a soft moan. Her legs went weak, and she collapsed into Ryan's arms. "Master, what... what is this? Why do I..."
"How does it feel, Olica? Comfortable?" Ryan scooped Olica up and sat down on the sofa, grinning. "Isn't it much more comfortable than the previous stockings?"
"Yes, very comfortable. It's so smooth, like melting, and there's your magic flowing through it. Wearing this... it's so addictive." Olica leaned against Ryan's chest, whispering softly. "Naughty master."
"That's the idea!" Ryan laughed, holding Olica in his arms. "As long as it's comfortable to wear, we'll make more like this. Besides the incredibly comfortable feel, these stockings have other effects. You'll find out soon enough."
"Other effects?" Olica's waterfall of black hair spilled over the sofa and carpet. Hearing that she wasn't the only one who would benefit, the dark elf pouted slightly. "Master, I want to tell you something. Your two or three female courtiers... they're not as obedient as they used to be."
"Not as obedient?" Ryan caught the underlying meaning in Olica's words and glanced toward the bedroom.
Veronica was still asleep. The councilor had truly exhausted her magic and had overloaded multiple times. Recently, she had been particularly drowsy, only waking to eat, meditate, assign tasks, or pester Ryan to replenish her magic.
"Veronica isn't a problem. I had a heart-to-heart with her," Ryan said, lying back on the sofa like an old salt, his hands behind his head. The Knight King smiled. "As for Theresa and Eu—I mean, Sylvia, isn't that what you're here for?"
The dark elf told Ryan about the results she had obtained from her experiments on the sorceress mother-daughter pair and Sylvia using drugs and magic.
Everyone, including Ryan, Sylvia, the knightly nobles, and the soldiers, had noticed that since Morghur's invasion, Theresa and Orelia, as Ryan's female courtiers and the heads of Military Intelligence Division Seven, had become much less prominent.
Ryan had once thought it was his fault, but Olica now told him that wasn't the case—or at least, not entirely.
From the depths of Theresa and Orelia's consciousness, the dark elf had learned that ever since Ciel Trouvic was born, the mother-daughter pair felt they had achieved their life's goal.
They no longer needed to strive.
After receiving the Old One's essence from Ryan, Theresa had finally broken through to the peak of Legendary and become a Saint-level powerhouse after nearly a year of seclusion. The sorceress felt she had reached the pinnacle. All that was left was to conduct research, organize intelligence, indulge in Ryan's affections when needed, and enjoy the luxurious life and high status he provided.
Orelia had a similar mindset. Since Ciel Trouvic's birth, Orelia had focused most of her energy on educating the new member of the Trouvic family. She had even reduced her involvement in Military Intelligence Division Seven. Her favorite activity was using Ciel as an excuse to demand large sums of funding from Ryan and Sylvia for her magical research and lavish lifestyle.
Unlike Theresa, who was more introverted and preferred to bury herself in research, Orelia clearly enjoyed attending various banquets, balls, and social events, which naturally led to greater expenses. Since accompanying Ryan to resist Morghur's invasion, the Saint-level sorceress had grown weary of participating in wars and would avoid or defer such duties whenever possible.
Of course, there were some matters the mother-in-law wouldn't avoid. In fact, if too much time passed without any movement, she would actively seek Ryan out to "discuss" them. That was a different story.
But the sorceress mother-daughter pair couldn't be said to have done nothing. Military Intelligence Division Seven was still operating efficiently, gathering intelligence from all corners of the Old World's human nations. Magical scrolls were continuously produced and deployed in battles. Orelia had even overseen the construction of a large magical workshop that produced a significant number of protective jewelry and talismans.
For example, all officers at the rank of Old Guard platoon leader, infantry company commander, and knight squadron leader or above were now equipped with "Frost Amulets." When subjected to a powerful attack, the amulet would activate automatically, forming a hard ice barrier around the body. This greatly protected the officers' lives.
If they didn't want to fight, then they didn't have to. Ryan thought it was fair to provide for them.
"Master, I understand your thoughts," Olica shook her head. The dark elf nuzzled Ryan's neck with her cheek and whispered, "But haven't you noticed that your core interests and those of these sorceresses have started to diverge?"
"It's true, but it's inevitable," Ryan sighed. This was an unavoidable issue. Dealing with the relationship between rulers and wizards had always been a thorny problem, and it wasn't something he alone faced.
Among the dark elves, the Witch King Malekith and the Witch Queen Morathi had clashed many times. Malekith had even threatened to kill his mother if she continued causing trouble (though he always ended up forgiving her).
Among the high elves, the White Tower of Hoeth was like an independent kingdom. The council of archmages was a group that even the Phoenix King and the Everqueen had to curry favor with. The War Leader Tyrion had even fought with the archmages of the White Tower to earn their recognition.
The emperors of the Empire faced similar issues. For example, Thyrus Gormann, one of the most trusted magical advisors of Emperor Luitpold and Emperor Karl Franz, had a lifelong ambition to explore the secrets deep within Albion. To this end, the Empire had lost over a thousand soldiers and spent countless resources, only to end up with nothing.
What could Karl Franz do? Tell Thyrus to stop wasting money and manpower, and to stop frequently leaving the capital without orders?
Thyrus might just blow up the palace in a fit of rage.
This wasn't a joke. Fire wizards losing control and causing explosions wasn't unheard of.
In other words, why did Karl Franz particularly like Gelt?
Because the Metal Mage excelled in both governance and military command, was incredibly powerful, didn't waste resources on reckless experiments, and could often fund his own research (you know how). More importantly, Gelt was exceptionally loyal. He was one of the very few Imperial Supreme Patriarchs who actually obeyed the Emperor's commands.
Thus, Ryan knew that Karl Franz would likely never discover Gelt's true beliefs, because at their core, both the Emperor and the Metal Mage shared the same ultimate goal: the survival of humanity.
What Olica was pointing out was the issue with Veronica and the others. Having already achieved fame and fortune, with their desired wizard towers and councils secured, Veronica and her fellow female courtiers had lost interest in continuing to participate in the Knight King's wars. They preferred to maintain the status quo, enjoy their privileges, and focus on their research. Veronica herself was still somewhat cooperative after Ryan personally spoke to her, but Theresa and Orelia were less inclined.
This was also why Ryan had tacitly allowed Olica to occasionally bring the sorceress mother-daughter pair to the ducal castle for some... unusual experiments.
As for Sylvia, the head maid's core interests always aligned with Sylvia and the knightly nobility.
"Master," Olica whispered conspiratorially into Ryan's ear, "actually, my mind control magic is in its final stages. If you really think that mother-daughter pair is too difficult to handle, I can erase their personalities and self-awareness..."
"Olica!" Ryan quickly stopped her. "Don't do such a thing!"
"Tch, Master always spoils them," Olica pouted, wrapping her arms around Ryan's neck. "Among the Druchii, any potential threat is nipped in the bud. For the Witch King, once a dreadlord loses their drive and ambition, their days are numbered. The Witch King has no use for old salts, unless they're irreplaceable in some way."
"That's the dark elves. Look at the high elves—they don't have as many issues," Ryan said with a lazy expression. He hugged Olica, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Olica, I plan to introduce these new stockings to Sylvia and the others. It'll solve a lot of problems."
"Master?" Olica was momentarily stunned, but then she understood. She couldn't help but lick her lips. "That sounds good! They're really comfortable. Once you put them on, you don't want to take them off. It feels... it feels like Master is holding my legs."
"Actually, you don't have to take them off," Ryan revealed a little secret to Olica.
"Master?!" Olica exclaimed in surprise. "You can do that?"
"How about it? Hehehe!" Ryan gently kissed Olica's thin lips.
The conversation in the King's suite gradually faded away.
...
While Ryan's Knightly Army was still on its way back to Bretonnia, an explosive piece of news reached the Glade Council in Athel Loren.
The elven and dwarven envoy delegations had been wiped out, and the Everqueen was missing!
The wood elves, upon receiving this news, realized the gravity of the situation. At the same time, these isolationists were deeply conflicted. The wood elves wanted nothing to do with the affairs of the Old World, but this involved the Everqueen!
What should they do now?
The wood elf Glade Lord, Araloth, the chosen champion of Ariel, sat in the vast and deep council hall, wearing a massive antlered helmet. All twelve Glade Lords of Athel Loren were present.
Even the ancient treeman Durthu had come.
"Now, let us vote on whether to send troops to rescue the Everqueen, Alarielle," Queen Ariel presided over the meeting, her four-meter-tall figure looking down from above.
Araloth voted in favor.
Four votes in favor, six against, and two abstentions.
After five hours of discussion, the wood elves ultimately decided not to intervene.
This had nothing to do with the Asrai!
"Then, should we inform the high elves?"
Another two hours of discussion resulted in nine votes in favor, two against, and one abstention.
The wood elves decided to send someone through the Worldroots to inform the high elves.
At this moment, Araloth stood up. "Lords of the Glade Council, and our esteemed King and Queen, should we also inform the humans of this matter?"
Orion instinctively looked to Queen Ariel. Among the wood elves, the Queen was the one who made the final decisions on internal matters.
"We will inform the humans," Ariel declared decisively. The Queen of the Forest sneered. "First, send someone to inform Karl Franz, then Bretonnia. Remember, in that order. It's best to let the humans handle this, but make sure our knightly allies don't suffer too many losses. We still need the Sun King and his army to help us deal with Morghur."
"Understood!"
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