In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

“It can’t be possible,” Yanan murmured. “With the Wall in the North and Hadrian’s Wall guarding it, how could they have gotten to the South without anyone noticing?”

Hadrian's Wall blocked Vortigern for fifteen years. Although the latter did not exert his full strength, the quality of Hadrian's Wall itself was obvious. Now, with the addition of the Wall he personally built in the north, how did this army manage to get in?

“It was Marco and King Gwent,” Merlin said. “They joined forces and broke through the blockade of the Wall and Hadrian’s Wall, secretly sending this army in.”

“Vortigern was clearly well-prepared this time. He used the power of the Holy Grail. I hadn’t seen any movement of this army before this.”

“Marco, Gwent, you two really know how to pick your timing…” Yanan gritted his teeth, then took a deep breath and asked, “Where is that army now?”

“In Lucanmons, the Duke of Lucan is fighting them,” Merlin said.

How long can Lukan hold out?

"Four days, no, I estimate there may only be three days left."

Three days... Yanan frowned deeply. In just three days, even if he sent troops back to defend, it would be too late.

Lucammons is Camelot's shield; if it falls, it means the enemy can rampage freely inside, posing an immeasurable threat.

Moreover, this Northern Army doesn't just consist of ordinary soldiers; it also includes many Divine Fantasy Species and Dead Apostles. These monsters can easily slaughter a city, and if they were to actually charge in, the consequences would be unimaginable!

"Contact the kings of our allied nations and tell them that if they are willing to send troops to help us through this crisis, I will compensate them tenfold afterwards!"

Half an hour later, Merlin's helpless voice echoed in Anan's ears again: "No, only three countries have expressed their willingness to send troops to help us, but their combined army only has 20,000 men, which is not enough to stop the army from the North."

Just as Yanan had predicted, these guys said they were willing to become Camelot's vassal state and serve as its master, but as soon as a problem arose, they all ran away faster than rabbits.

"Where is King Dehebas? He should have enough troops at his disposal."

"King Dehebas said that this time he will neither help King Gwent nor us. Whether we can overcome this crisis depends entirely on our own fate," Merlin said.

After a moment of silence, Yanan said, "I understand."

He cut off the communications and summoned Artoria.

"Teacher, what brings you here?" Artoria, dressed in silver-white armor, asked as she entered Anahn's tent.

“Vortigern has sent 50,000 troops to launch a surprise attack on Camelot. Duke Lucan is currently putting up a fierce resistance, and I need to rush back to his aid,” Yanan said bluntly.

“This…” Artoria stared wide-eyed in surprise.

“That army will break through Lucammons in three days at most. It will be too late to send troops back to reinforce it. The alliance of nations is also unwilling to provide us with assistance. So the only way now is for me to go back and rescue them myself.” Anaen patted Artoria on the shoulder. “I can only leave things here to you for the time being.”

"Teacher, do you mean I should command the upcoming battle?" Artoria involuntarily took a few steps back, a hint of panic appearing in her holy blue eyes. "But teacher, you are the king. If you are not here, there will be problems."

"Didn't you handle the battles yourselves before? With Nidhogg, Scáthach, Morgan, and the Knights of the Round Table around, nothing will happen."

"Teacher, why don't you let Miss Nidhogg and the others go back?"

“The enemy is coming in strong this time, and they may not be able to handle it on their own. Moreover, I am worried that the enemy may have set up an ambush, so it would be safer for me to go back in person.”

"Then... how about we wait for you to return, teacher, before we send out our troops?"

"No! Vortigern is clearly trying to stall for time, which means he's at a critical juncture. We can't wait any longer!"

"But...but I..."

Yanan stepped forward, opened his arms and hugged the bewildered Artoria, whispering in her ear, "Lily, do you remember what I told you before? After this war, you will be crowned queen and shoulder the fate of a race. So, you must believe in yourself, just as I believe in you."

Feeling the familiar and warm scent lingering around her nose, a hint of determination gradually appeared in Artoria's azure eyes:

"Yes, teacher! I will definitely live up to your expectations!"

"Not bad, you're finally starting to look like a king." Anaun released Artoria and patted her shoulder with a smile.

He then summoned Nidhogg, Scáthach, Morgan, and others, explaining the current situation and the subsequent arrangements. After everyone nodded in agreement, he set off for Lucamont.

......

......

Lucammonds.

This fortified city on the border of Camelot has gained fame in Camelot in recent years. As the first stop for the Chosen King to make his mark, countless knights and bards who admire the king's deeds have come here to pay homage to his glory.

However, the city is now completely engulfed by war. The magic arrays on the city walls are now only faintly glowing like fireflies. Everywhere is filled with black burn marks and traces of corrosion. Under the enemy's fierce and relentless attacks, the city is on the verge of collapse.

"Hold on, everyone! The king will send reinforcements soon! As long as we persevere, victory will surely be ours!"

Duke Lukan stood on the city wall, vigorously waving his sword to encourage the soldiers. At this moment, he was no longer the elegant and composed man he once was. His armor was tattered beyond recognition, his face was as black as the bottom of a pot, half of his hair was burned off, and his exposed skin was covered with burn marks. He was covered in blood.

“That guy must be the ruler of this city, right? I think his name is Lukan?” In mid-air, Granzog Blackmoya, who had a human form and a bird’s head, wore black clothes, and had a pair of jet-black wings extending from his back, said.

—Granzog Blackmoya, the Blackwing Lord and the familiar of the Crimson Moon, is despised by the True Ancestors who admire elegance because of his appearance, but his strength is undoubtedly among the top level of the Dead Apostles. In terms of both power and history, he is on par with the Whitewing Lord Tevanm Otenrose, and even ranks one place higher than the Whitewing Lord in the ranking of the Twenty-Seven Ancestors.

“That’s right.” White Wing Duke Tevanmu nodded. Although he usually disliked this crazy guy, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and bear it under Zhu Yue’s orders.

"I heard that he seems to have a pretty good relationship with that Chosen King?" Blackwing Duke turned his head 270 degrees to the right, looking at Whitewing Duke on his left, his beak forming a strange arc.

Bai Yigong frowned slightly, subtly distancing himself from the other party: "He was the first person to offer help to King Arthur, and his brother is none other than Bedivere, known as the King's Left Hand."

"Oh, I see." Blackwing looked down at Lukan, a hint of madness in his eyes. "So, if I were to make him my servant, wouldn't King Arthur be very angry?"

Unlike ordinary Dead Apostles, humans whose blood is drunk by the Blackwing Lord do not become vampires, but rather monsters with bird heads and wings.

Before White Winged Duke could answer, Black Winged Duke swooped down and flew towards Lukan.

A strong sense of crisis suddenly rose in Lukan's heart. He subconsciously raised his head and saw a bird-headed, human-bodied monster flying towards him.

"Enjoy the thrill of death and flight!" Blackwing roared madly, lunging towards Lukan.

However, at this moment, a hand suddenly reached out from the void and firmly grasped Blackwing Duke's arm.

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Trap

"Ok?"

Looking at his arm that was being held, Blackwing Gong let out a questioning sound.

slam-la-

Suddenly, a crisp sound rang in his ears, and a spear with a golden chain flew out of the void, thrusting straight at him.

Without hesitation, he severed the arm that had been grabbed, and with a flash, he appeared dozens of meters away, dodging the attack of the golden spear.

"To cut off an arm to survive, as expected of the Blackwing Lord, truly decisive." Anan, wearing azure silver armor, stepped out of the void, glanced at the severed arm in his hand, and casually tossed it away. A cluster of flames suddenly appeared, instantly burning it to ashes.

"My King!" Duke Lukan exclaimed in surprise, his eyes filled with undisguised joy.

"Thank you for your hard work, Duke Lukan. Leave the rest to me." Anan made a fist, and the Devouring Key, Star of Eden, immediately appeared in his hand. He threw it down, and a light shield instantly unfolded around Star of Eden, enveloping Lukanmons.

No matter how the fantasy creatures and the soldiers from the North attacked, this light barrier remained completely still, standing as firmly as Mount Tai.

Seeing this, the Duke of Lukan finally breathed a sigh of relief, collapsed to the ground, closed his eyes, and immediately fell into a coma.

He was utterly exhausted; the physical trauma and mental fatigue had long since pushed him to his limit. Only now, seeing Anan arrive in person, did he finally feel at ease.

After using the power of the Black Abyss White Flower to heal Lukan's injuries, Anan turned his gaze to the Black Winged Duke and the White Winged Duke not far away.

"Blackwing Duke Granzog Blackmoya, Whitewing Duke Tefum Ottenrose, this time Zhu Yue has really gone all out, actually sending out the two leaders of the Dead Apostles."

Under Anan's icy gaze, White Winged Duke Tevanm subconsciously took a few steps back, and a few drops of cold sweat involuntarily seeped from his forehead.

Having personally experienced the battle of the Kingdom of Kent, he knew all too well how terrifying the man before him was—a monster who could even rival the Moon King!

Lord Granzog of the Blackwing suddenly let out a high-pitched, strange laugh: "Heh heh, Arthur, so what if you come? We have a full fifty thousand soldiers, fantasy creatures, and dead apostles here. What can you change by yourself?"

"What can I change?" A slightly sarcastic smile appeared on Yanan's lips. "Then you'll see for yourself. I'll tell you right now what I can change."

He reached out and the Key of Corruption, Jizo Mitama, instantly appeared in his hand.

"Key of Erosion: Jizo's Soul, First Rated Power, Unleash!"

The Jizo-Mitama suddenly burst forth with a bright black light, like a rising black sun. Under this light, clusters of black flames appeared in the eyes of the monsters, the Dead Apostles, and the Northern soldiers. Their expressions gradually became ferocious and crazed, and they launched indiscriminate attacks on everything around them.

As if something had stolen their minds, their eyes were devoid of any clarity, filled only with the madness of beasts. Even if the person in front of them was their closest comrade-in-arms, they could raise their butcher knives without hesitation and cut off the other's head. The claws of the Fantasy Seeds and the Dead Apostles swung wildly, ruthlessly reaping lives, completely forgetting that they had just been comrades-in-arms fighting side by side.

Corpses lay strewn across the field, blood flowed like rivers, and the ground was littered with crushed and mangled internal organs. Everywhere one looked, people were engaged in a frenzied slaughter, as if they had stepped into a barbaric ancient era, where only the most primitive violence remained.

Chaos erupted, utter chaos. Even the usually mad Blackwing Duke couldn't help but show a hint of stunned silence upon seeing this scene.

As Yanan watched the soldiers, Dead Apostles, and Fantasy Beings killing each other, a complex expression appeared in his eyes.

This is why he is reluctant to use Jizo Mitama. The ability to arbitrarily alter will and erode mind is too terrifying. If one is not careful, it can easily cause unimaginable crisis.

But now, he has no choice but to use this power.

Blackwing's eyes flickered slightly, and a strange wriggling sound suddenly came from the severed arm. Then, a large amount of flesh grew out of it, and in the blink of an eye, it turned into a brand new arm.

He transformed into a giant black raven, a black halo emanating from his body that instantly enveloped Anan.

The vast sky was covered by endless black feathers, swallowing up even the sunlight and stars. This was an absolute "barrier of death" devoid of any light.

In the realm of magic, birds are considered "guides to the souls of the dead," and Blackwing Grandson, who uses birds as the foundation of his magic, is an excellent soul carrier.

He projected his love for birds from his mind into reality, thus mastering this power that transcends imagination—

Realistic Marble - [NeverMore]!

"—Beware, King Arthur."

The birds that fly in my night sky show no respect for the dead—

A terrifyingly dense sound of flapping wings filled the air as countless black birds, like a heavy, dark cloud, swooped down on Anan. Their eyes were blood-red, and their bodies emanated a dense aura of death; if they were to collide head-on with them, even a dragon would perish on the spot.

however--

"Do you really know what you're saying when you talk about death in front of me?"

A cold smile appeared on Yanan's lips. His Black Dragon Body was instantly unleashed, and jet-black bone wings unfolded behind him. Black patterns covered his entire body, and an incomparably powerful aura of death suddenly erupted from his body.

Behind him, an enormous black dragon phantom appeared, its ferocious mouth wide open, unleashing a powerful suction force like a vortex, swallowing all the black birds into it. Then it let out a satisfied burp, a look of contentment appearing in its eyes.

"What is that thing?!" Blackwing's voice came from all directions, filled with undisguised panic.

He originally thought his research on death was profound enough, but why did that guy possess a death power that was closer to the origin than his?

This feeling was as if the other person was the embodiment of death!

The spear Black Abyss instantly appeared in Anahn's hand. He threw it forward, and with a whoosh, the dark spear shadow pierced the air, completely piercing the great raven hiding in the depths of darkness.

Blackwing looked at the hole in his heart, then looked up at Anan, his voice hoarse, and asked, "Why?"

Although the words sounded somewhat incomprehensible, Yanan quickly understood what the other party meant and said calmly, "Because you have only fabricated this world of death based on your own imagination, while I have personally experienced, witnessed, and felt real death."

“So that’s how it is…” Blackwing’s figure gradually dissipated. “I, who have never even experienced death, thought I understood the true meaning of death. How foolish I was.”