In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

By noon, Merlin finally brought news that Camelot's unusually tough stance had indeed put considerable pressure on the alliance of nations. Apart from a few countries that were still hesitant, more than three-quarters of the countries had already dispatched troops to attack the Kingdom of East Anglia.

Upon receiving the news, Artoria immediately assembled her army and divided it into two groups, which headed towards the Kingdom of Mercia and the Kingdom of Essex, respectively.

Chapter Sixty-One: Replenishing Mana

Due to the urgency of time, Artoria chose the route closest to the main city of Mercia. To increase the marching speed, she even used the Wind King's Barrier. The army of more than 10,000 people advanced at lightning speed.

Under the indestructible iron hooves of the Godslayer Knights, the defenses set up by the Kingdom of Mercia along the way were as fragile as paper and were easily breached.

After conquering a city, Artoria would leave a thousand men to garrison the area, preventing their retreat from being cut off and them from being attacked from both sides.

Relying on the terrifying offensive efficiency of the Godslayer Knights, they conquered five cities in just one day and one night. On the morning of the second day, they saw the main city of Mercia standing on the plain.

Mercia's commander clearly had no intention of engaging them in direct combat, instead unleashing the full power of his magic array. A thick protective shield enveloped the massive main city, making it as impregnable as a towering peak.

"I'm sorry, General, but with the strength of the Knights, I'm afraid we won't be able to break through that protective barrier in a short time," Lanmarok said.

This might be considered the only flaw of the Godslayer Knights. They have extremely strong team combat capabilities and their individual strength is not bad either, but they lack the decisive burst of power. Therefore, they often cannot play a significant role in such siege battles.

"It's okay, just leave it to me."

Artoria rode the steed 'Don Starion' that Scáthach had given her, and came to a position about fifty meters in front of the Kingdom of Mercia. She dismounted and looked at the magnificent main city before her.

Her hand clenched slightly, and Excalibur instantly appeared in her grasp. The dragon's heart throbbed, and endless magic flowed into the golden sword. Countless dazzling golden points of light surged from all directions, converging on the sword as if it were forged from radiance.

"Gathering the breath of the stars, the torrent of glorious life, receive this sword of Excalibur!"

boom--!!

A golden beam of light, several meters long, extended along the sword. Artoria swung it downwards with all her might, and the beam struck the barrier. After a brief pause, a vast surge of magical energy coalesced into a visible storm, and a deafening roar echoed far and wide.

The two remained locked in a stalemate for a full minute. Even with the support of the spiritual veins, the barrier could not withstand the immense power emanating from the Star-Forged Holy Sword. With a series of cracking sounds, countless spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the surface of the barrier, which then exploded with a bang.

"Knights, attack!" Lanmarok raised his spear and charged ahead, followed closely by the knights and the remaining five thousand soldiers, as they stormed into the capital city of Mercia.

Artoria tried to mount her horse, but her legs suddenly gave way and she almost fell to the ground.

Morgan supported her from behind, looking at her pale face and her heaving chest, and sighed softly, "You're too tired, Lily."

The Wind King's Barrier, covering more than 10,000 people, is released continuously 24 hours a day. Even the heart of a dragon cannot withstand this level of magic consumption.

That last attack was the last effort Artoria could make; she had been completely drained of everything.

“I have no choice, Sister Wang, I have to do this.” Artoria lowered her head. “I don’t have the profound wisdom and strength of my teacher, nor can I handle things with ease in any situation like him. So I can only keep pushing myself, squeezing out every bit of my strength, and desperately trying to fight for that one last hope. This is the only thing I can do.”

Ever since Anaen entrusted the Holy Lance Rungomminiad to her, Artoria has always felt anxious, because she worries that she is not doing well enough and is afraid that she will let her teacher down.

Her teacher had always been her role model, but just as one feels smaller the closer one gets to the sun, the longer Artoria stayed with Anaen, the more she felt her own inadequacy.

She tried hard to keep up with the teacher, but the gap was too big, like the clouds in the sky and the mud on the ground; no matter what she did, she couldn't bridge that gap.

Therefore, she had no choice but to push herself to the limit and exert all her strength, only in this way could she barely keep up with that person's pace.

A complex look appeared in Morgan's eyes. He gently hugged Artoria and said, "Lily, I understand how you feel, but why do you have to compare yourself to him? He has things he can do, and you have things you can do. Since he has decided to hand over the throne to you, it means he trusts your abilities. You don't need to put so much pressure on yourself. Just do what you should do, and that's enough."

"Be more lenient with yourself, Lily. Don't always carry everything on your own shoulders. Even Anan has things he can't do, let alone you. Learn to trust others; this is a lesson even a king must learn."

After a long silence, Artoria finally let out a sigh: "Perhaps you are right, Sister Wang, I was indeed a bit too hasty."

"It's good that you understand." Morgan smiled slightly.

Artoria looked at the main city of Mercia in front of her and finally gave up her plan to go in. She took off her luggage, took out some dry food, and prepared to replenish her strength.

Her magic power comes from physical strength, and when her physical strength is insufficient, her magic power recovery efficiency will become very slow.

She opened her package and took out several brick-like objects. These were compressed rations that Yanan had specially asked Merlin to make for her. Although the taste was average, they were extremely filling; an ordinary person could eat one bite and not need to eat for a whole day.

Artoria quickly finished the few pieces of compressed rations, patted her stomach, and frowned slightly.

"What? Still not full?" Morgan asked curiously.

“No.” Artoria gave a wry smile. “I squeezed my magic power too hard before. Even if I fill my stomach now, I won’t be able to replenish my magic power in the short term. I’m worried that there will be problems when we attack the Kingdom of Northumbria.”

"Is the magic power insufficient...?" Morgan frowned slightly; this problem was indeed somewhat tricky.

Next, they will not only face the strongest enemy, the Kingdom of Northumbria, but also two exceptionally powerful opponents, the Moon King Zhu Yue and Vortigern. If they do not recover to their full strength, something might go wrong.

On such a battlefield, any flaw could become the key to victory or defeat.

Unfortunately, even as a magician second only to Merlin, Morgan was unable to help Artoria restore her magic power; her methods were not even as efficient as the Dragon Heart itself.

"If there's really no other way, I guess I'll have to go through with it this way." Artoria said helplessly. If she had known this would happen, she wouldn't have pushed herself so hard.

"No...maybe it's not entirely hopeless." Morgan's eyes suddenly lit up. "Lily, do you still have the Holy Lance with you?"

"Of course I'm carrying it, what's wrong?" Artoria looked at her questioningly, then a thought flashed through her mind, and she instantly understood what her sister meant. "You don't mean to...?"

"The Holy Lance is a tower of light anchoring the earth, a wedge connecting us to [Nature]," Morgan said, suppressing his excitement. "You can use it to replenish your magic!"

"But... what if I'm corrupted by the will of [Nature]..." Artoria still hesitated. The Holy Lance, as a divine weapon, was not something to be trifled with. If she wasn't careful, she might be transformed into an existence close to a god, losing her humanity.

"Don't worry, with your willpower, you could last for ten years without any problems, let alone just a short while." Morgan waved his hand.

Remembering that her teacher hadn't warned her against using the Holy Lance, Artoria felt reassured. She summoned the Holy Lance, immersed her consciousness into it, and connected with the will of [Nature].

Seeing that a mysterious and lofty aura was gradually emanating from Artoria, Morgan thought for a moment, but still felt uneasy, so he cast a mental protection spell on her.

After about an hour, Artoria slowly opened her eyes. A faint golden hue flashed in her eyes before returning to her normal holy blue.

She let out a soft breath, feeling the magic power returning to her body, then turned to look at Morgan, smiling and nodding.

"Success."

Chapter Sixty-Two: The Moon King's Sleight of Hand

After a day of rest in the capital city of Mercia, Artoria left 1,500 soldiers behind and then led the Godslayer Knights and the remaining 3,500 soldiers toward the Kingdom of Northumbria.

Meanwhile, the Bedivere group on the other side is also making good progress, having successfully captured the Kingdom of Essex, and is also heading towards Northumbria.

In comparison, the progress of the Allied Powers is slightly slower. They have just conquered three-quarters of the territory of the Kingdom of East Anglia and are currently fighting for their last main city.

Artoria and Bedivere each led their own armies, one to the east and one to the west, like two sharp knives piercing into the territory of the Kingdom of Northumbria.

Relying on their formidable combat capabilities, they swept through the land with unstoppable momentum, conquering nearly half of Northumbria's territory in just one day and successfully gathering under the walls of Northumbria's main city.

"How are your battle losses?" Artoria asked Bedivere.

"It's alright. Over three hundred dead and over two thousand injured, still within an acceptable range," Bedwell responded.

Artoria nodded. The fact that Bedivere could maintain such low casualties in such a swift blitzkrieg was a testament to his command abilities.

However, on the other hand, this is also due to their profound cultural heritage.

Whether it's the Godslayer Knights or Nidhogg, in such a large-scale war, they are undoubtedly super weapons of mass destruction, decisive forces capable of changing the outcome of the battlefield in an instant. Otherwise, they would definitely pay a much higher price.

Artoria gazed at the massive main city in the distance. Once they conquered it, they could face their final enemy.

Rumble—!!

Just as Artoria was about to order the attack, a violent, earth-shaking sound suddenly reached her ears. Then, thousands of Chimeras, Mountain Giants, Ugal, and other mythical creatures from the Age of Gods rushed out from all directions, roaring as they surged toward them.

At the same time, a mighty roar came from the sky, and countless bipedal dragons swooped down, blocking out the sky completely. Behind them, there were many more dragons that were even larger and had four legs.

"That's... a real dragon!"

"My God, how could so many magical beasts suddenly appear?!"

"Where did they come from?!"

The sudden change threw Camelot's army into a panic. However, at that moment, a golden pillar of light shot into the sky, and the scattered light fragments merged into everyone's bodies, gradually dispelling their unease.

"No need for fear! We are the invincible Camelot! No matter how powerful the enemy, they will only meet defeat and death before us!" Artoria shouted, raising Excalibur. "On my command, all troops, attack!"

Led by Lanmarok, the Godslayer Knights charged out at the forefront, confronting the largest group of Fantasy Species and engaging them in fierce combat.

"Hey, it's that guy again who's the first one to rush out," Gahoris chuckled.

"Well, they have the confidence to back it up." Gao Wen twirled the Spinning Victory Sword in his hand. "But we can't give up either."

"That's true. By the way, how about we make a bet? Whoever kills the fewest monsters has to treat everyone to a month's worth of meals."

"Just treating people is too boring. How about we make the person who killed the fewest people eat only Gawain's mashed potatoes for a whole month?"

The Knights of the Round Table were silent for a moment, then rushed out in unison, fighting fiercely against the fantasy creature in front of them, as if they were facing their father's killer.

"I don't think eating mashed potatoes for a month straight is so bad," Gao Wen said, scratching his head, but still rushed out with them.

Seeing the Godslayer Knights and the Knights of the Round Table step forward, the remaining Camelot soldiers were encouraged and rushed out after them.

In fact, a long time ago, Yanan had considered the possibility that they would face a large number of fantasy species, and had designed a targeted training program for the army. The program basically considered the measures that should be taken when facing different fantasy species. At first, the soldiers were a little frightened because they did not expect so many fantasy species to appear. However, after calming down, they immediately showed good military qualities and surrounded and killed these fantasy species according to the training.

Scáthach wielded two Gayageums, specifically targeting the mountain giants. Due to the unique structure of these giants, they were difficult for ordinary people to threaten, so only she could personally take action.

Morgan realized this as well and began to reverse his magic array, bombarding the mountain giants.

The battle on the ground was fierce, and the situation in the sky was no less intense. Hundreds of bipedal dragons swooped down, their claws and teeth incredibly sharp, their expressions ferocious and menacing. Tristan led the three thousand archers who had been dispatched, wielding longbows that were wreathed in magical light, and shot down these monsters one by one.

These archers were all handpicked and personally trained by him. Not every single one of them, but at least 90% were unerring archers. In addition, the magical longbows that Anan ordered the court magicians to make for them further increased their lethality.

Nidhogg revealed her true form, a black dragon over a thousand meters long, hovering high in the sky, more than three times larger than the largest dragon. All the wyverns looked at this true king of the sky in fear, keeping their distance from her and not daring to approach within a mile of her.

Nidhogg had no intention of dealing with these "small fry." Her attention was entirely focused on the dragons. Like the mountain giants, these big guys were monsters that ordinary people could not fight against, so only she, the bigger "monster," could eliminate them.

She spewed scorching black flames from her dragon mouth, staining the dragons' bodies. The dragons flapped their wings and let out painful howls.

Besides the extremely high temperature, the black dragon flame contained a powerful force of death, burning the dragons to a crisp, leaving not even a single scale behind.

The sky and the earth were engulfed in the raging flames of war, which quickly reached a fever pitch. The roars of beasts surged like the tides of the sea, and the soldiers roared as they charged forward. The magical glow, the explosions, the severed limbs, and the splattering blood all intertwined to create this tragic and heroic prelude.

However, gradually, strange signs began to emerge.

Lancelot was the first to notice something strange. A casual glance back revealed that a soldier's chest was heaving more rapidly.

He frowned slightly and asked Bedivere beside him, "Do you remember how long we've been fighting?"

Bedivere swung his silver arm, cleaving a row of Ugal in two, and after a moment's thought, said, "It's been about an hour."

"How many fantasy species have we killed?"

“Well… I’m not so sure.” Bedivere scratched his head, thought carefully for a moment, and said, “But it must be at least five thousand.”

“Five thousand…” Lancelot’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Then why do I feel that the number of these fantasy species hasn’t decreased at all?”

Bedwell was startled and looked around, only to realize with horror that the number of fantasy creatures around them was exactly the same as before.