Chapter 223: Chapter 105: Annihilate Faith! Seize the Divine Position!

A black Dragon Banner flutters.

Duncan, leading the generals and his Personal Guard, galloped toward a wall ahead. Though called a Great Wall, Hadrian’s Wall is only about 120 kilometers long and can’t compare to the Great Wall of China, but it has sheltered Great Britain for centuries.

"After more than thirty years, the Britons have finally fought back to Hadrian’s Wall."

In 368 AD, the southward Picts finally broke through this border wall, plunging Britannia into a maelstrom of war, frequently attacked by both sea and land.

At this moment, behind Duncan, flags wave as troops gather. Many old British soldiers look at the Great Wall ahead, tears welling up in their eyes.

Finally fought back!

This is the former boundary of the Empire. The vast empire was no longer able to conquer other Celtic Barbarian Races.

"Is this the original form of the Northern Great Wall?" Duncan gazes into the distance.

Hadrian’s Wall, including walls, watchtowers, forts, and castles, completely preserved the Roman Empire’s border defense system from the Roman Empire era.

It’s short, but its quality is still solid in this era.

"Let me lead you across the Great Wall!"

"Conquer everything on Great Britain!"

Duncan raises his whip, standing on high, overlooking the British Legion behind him, and says sternly, "From now on, no one can ever mock the Britons as weak and powerless!"

"You are also the bravest Warriors of this era!"

Bang!

Below Duncan, tens of thousands of British soldiers roared with thunderous fury. The humiliation they’ve endured for nearly a century was washed away at this moment. In this turbulent, chaotic world, it was not that the Britons were weak, but that they had not yet awaited the king to lead them in conquering all directions!

Under Duncan’s command, the valor of the native Britons is in no way inferior to the Germanic Warriors, nor weaker than the veterans of the Imperial Legion.

Their spirit of resistance is forged with blood, never lacking the courage to fight to the death.

Even the just-reformed Indigo Highland Swordsmen are eager to prove their bravery on the battlefield.

At some point.

Someone kneeled on one knee in Duncan’s direction, and soon, like waves, tens of thousands of people followed, kneeling in the sunlight. Duncan’s silhouette appeared grand, like a giant, while the flapping Dragon Banner fluttering in the gale.

At the back of the crowd.

Merlin, once again marked by the three-star silver-gray, remained silent for a long time. He knew the era of King Arthur would never come; all his prophecies were no more than jokes.

Today, there is only one king in Britannia!

And that is Duncan.

With the authority of a king, he reforged the courage of the Britons, allowing them to lift their heads proudly and face all external enemies in this tumultuous time.

Clang.

Duncan gazes at the gathered army behind him, draws the Oathkeeper Longsword from his waist, and points north of Hadrian’s Wall.

"Cross the Great Wall!"

"Campaign North!"

"Conquer everything we see!"

Banners flutter, and the Sarmatian riders hold high the Dragon Banner, crossing Hadrian’s Wall, while behind them, the elite British Legion readies for battle.

For hundreds of years.

Since the Empire defended Hadrian’s Wall, the Imperial Legion never attempted to conquer Scotland again. But today, they are about to set a precedent, bringing the lands the Empire could not conquer under Britannia’s rule.

The Crow Queen, Triss, likewise felt her heart surge with excitement. She knew more. After spurring her horse to catch up with Duncan, the Crow Queen slightly lagged half a step behind.

A vague and desolate horn sound echoed.

Most people in the vast army were unaware, but a few Germanic strongmen looked up at the distant horizon with puzzled expressions, as if vaguely hearing a Northern European ritual horn sound, much like an auditory illusion.

The Crow Queen, Triss, focuses on the distance, and in a trance, she seems to see a Valkyrie with a bird-winged golden helmet.

The Valkyrie holds a golden Dragon Horn, with two bird-winged silver-helmeted Valkyries beside her. The leader blows the horn of the Pantheon war, towards north of Hadrian’s Wall.

At this moment, it is as if mythology reflects reality without the knowledge of mortals.

North of Hadrian’s Wall, from the dense primeval forest, faint whispers seem to echo, as if in response, or in struggle.

Meanwhile.

In the direction of the Camelot Kingdom, in the Holy Sanctuary of Avalon, Severus has assembled the Druid order to hold a grand sacrificial ceremony.

Minstrels chant the epic legends of ancient times.

In the rising mist, Guardian Fairies of Avalon emerge as phantoms. Behind them, teams of fully armed Green Knights appear in the sacrificial Holy Sanctuary amidst silence, clad in heavy armor and helmets, surrounded by the Essence of Avalon.

"Campaign North!"

Tethys’s figure no longer appears as a gentle and graceful woman but as a Celtic Valkyrie clad in a skirted armor, her long hair tied up, raising the Sword of Oath and Victory in hand, directing it towards Scotland and Ireland, she voices commandingly: "Unify the Celtic faith!"

Silhouettes of the Green Knights fade away.

On the sacrificial stone of Avalon’s Holy Sanctuary, the runes representing each Guardian Fairy gradually dimmed, but soon in the surrounding mist, the sacrificial stones and the Holy Forest of Avalon in other directions lit up with a faint Spiritual Light.

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