In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

Mashu thought for a moment: "Like spellcasting materials?"

As soon as she spoke, she realized something was amiss and quickly apologized to Nero: "I'm sorry, Your Highness, I didn't mean to offend you."

“It’s alright, I understand what you mean.” Nero waved his hand dismissively, then sneered, “That magician really has a big appetite, wanting to use me as a casting material.”

“If that’s the case, then it might not have anything to do with Princess Nero. Perhaps it was just that she needed a heroic spirit to sacrifice, so she happened to choose Princess Nero?” Leonardo da Vinci speculated.

Anan didn't respond. In his view, Merlin's decision to keep Nero was not accidental, nor was it simply a sacrifice.

There must be some reasons he doesn't know about...

“In short, from now on, Nero should not leave the Empire—whatever Merlin’s purpose may be, as long as she doesn’t succeed,” Anahn said.

"What? Are you telling me to be a coward?" Nero crossed his arms and pouted, somewhat annoyed.

"Well, this is for the sake of the bigger picture, Your Highness, please bear with it a little," Leonardo da Vinci said with a smile.

With everyone's comfort and persuasion, Nero finally accepted the arrangement reluctantly.

“However, we cannot simply defend.” Yanan looked around at everyone and said, “The Tower of Radiance has been fully charged. Once the number of chosen ones reaches the expected level, the Lion King will activate the Holy Eradication. At that time, the world will not be far from complete destruction—so we must start to take the initiative.”

"Is this going to be a decisive battle?" Fujimaru Ritsuka's expression immediately turned serious.

Yanan shook his head: "Now is not the right time for a final battle. The gap between us and Camelot still exists."

Everyone nodded. Even if the Holy Roman Empire's potential was squeezed to its limit, it could only barely muster an army of about a thousand men, which was still no match for Camelot.

“Therefore, we must defeat them one by one and weaken Camelot’s forces first,” Yanan said.

Of the group, only Nero was the first to react: "Could it be that you mean... the Knights of the Round Table?"

“That’s right.” Yanan nodded. “According to our current information, apart from Tristan and Gawain, all the other Knights of the Round Table are out searching for the Chosen Ones. Don’t you think this is a great opportunity?”

Nero had always had people monitoring the movements of the Knights of the Round Table and reporting to the Empire regularly, which was no secret to Anahn, who assisted Nero in handling government affairs every day.

Mashu hesitated for a moment: "But besides Tristan and Gawain, there are four other Knights of the Round Table. No matter who we attack, the other three will receive the news quickly and will definitely flee back to Camelot."

Of the seven Heroic Spirits that descended initially, apart from Nero, who was the only survivor, the remaining six were defeated by Camelot. Two of these Heroic Spirits were killed by Tristan and Gawain in the battle. Only the four captured by Melusin were actually taken back for modification.

This was mainly because the difference in strength was too great. In front of Melusin, they didn't even have a chance to commit suicide before they were captured.

“Then let’s attack them all at once and wipe them out in one fell swoop, leaving no one alive!” Yanan said decisively.

Everyone was shocked, never expecting that Yanan had such a huge appetite.

Attacking all four Knights of the Round Table at the same time... isn't that a bit too difficult...?

“With Melusin and me here, dealing with those Knights of the Round Table isn’t actually that difficult,” Yanan said.

Of course, no one present doubted the strength of Anan and Melusin, after all, these two were currently the strongest fighters in the Holy Roman Empire.

“But the problem is, how do we get those four Knights of the Round Table together?” Da Vinci shrugged. “After all, based on the intelligence we’ve gathered, they always act alone and rarely meet except in Camelot.”

“We don’t necessarily have to wait for them to get together,” Fujimaru Ritsuka thought for a moment and said. “At least Mashu and I are here. Even if we can’t beat them, we should be able to stall for a while.”

“That’s right, and there’s even some left over!” Nero puffed out her chest proudly. “Including the leftovers, we have exactly four! One for each of us!”

“Your Highness, have you forgotten? You can’t leave the Empire at will now,” Mashu whispered a reminder.

Nero's face froze instantly, and he wilted like a frostbitten eggplant, even the ahoge on his head seemed listless.

“Besides Nero, don’t we have another Heroic Spirit?” Anahn said.

Everyone was slightly taken aback, and their gazes subconsciously turned towards a certain figure.

"Oh dear~ You actually want researchers to go to the battlefield? That's a crime."

Leonardo da Vinci twirled his staff, a captivating smile spreading across his face:

"However... it seems like it's been a long time since I've punched anyone."

Chapter Thirty-Eight: It's you again...

On the lush, verdant forest path, a group of about two hundred solemn knights were marching in orderly fashion. They were dressed in heavy armor engraved with magical runes, wielding broadswords, their steps were synchronized, solemn and quiet. They were clearly experienced veterans, exuding a distinctly chilling aura.

This is an army that should not exist in this era. Their fighting power is even stronger than that of the legendary Crusaders. From the first day they arrived on this land, the whole world has been shrouded in this white terror.

Compared to this disciplined army, their commander seemed out of place. With a scarlet rifle slung over his shoulder and his hands casually resting on the gun, he walked at the front of the line, occasionally yawning out of boredom, exuding an air of laziness.

It's hard to imagine that such a person could lead such a fierce and resolute fighting force. However, strangely enough, no one in the legion complained about him. In fact, judging from their cautious actions, they seemed to hold a certain amount of awe for this unruly man.

“Lord Lanmarok, we have been marching for almost twelve hours. Do you think... it’s time to let the soldiers rest for a bit?” The deputy commander stepped forward and whispered cautiously in the man’s ear.

"Tsk, you're done after only twelve hours? You call yourselves Camelot's elite? Even my grandmother lasts longer than you." The man curled his lip in disdain, casually flipping the spear over and planting it in the ground. "Alright, take a break for now."

The deputy commander breathed a sigh of relief, said "Yes, sir," and then turned to leave.

However, the instant he turned around, a chillingly cold killing intent suddenly erupted from behind him, emanating from the man behind him...

Intense fear coalesced into demonic claws, gripping his heart tightly. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his face, hidden beneath the visor. At this moment, he had never felt so close to death.

He desperately wanted to turn around and see what had triggered such a strong reaction from the man, but the terrifying killing intent was like a sturdy shackle, firmly holding his body in place, giving him the illusion that if he dared to move even slightly, the spear would instantly slide off his head.

In a moment of distraction, he suddenly heard a man's deep voice:

"Ruined."

Is it all over? What's all over?

The deputy commander was lost in thought when he suddenly noticed that the scene before him had become incredibly bright, as if a white sun had risen in the dark forest path, illuminating everything with perfect clarity.

In this dazzling light, he saw the knights who had just fallen hurriedly get up as if preparing to flee, saw the warriors holding weapons trembling like frightened birds, and saw everyone looking up at the sky, letting out desperate and unwilling roars.

What on earth happened?! ...

An overwhelming fear exploded in the vice commander's heart. If the previous fear stemmed from awe of the man's immense power, then at this moment, it was entirely out of trembling at the unknown.

The strongest human emotion is fear, and the strongest fear comes from... the unknown.

The pure white light grew ever brighter, illuminating everything in perfect detail. This scene resembled the paradise in the Book of Revelation, where God and the angels resided, a place said to be forever filled with pure white light, where there is never darkness and is always full of warmth.

However, the vice commander did not feel any warmth. The intense sense of crisis made him feel as if he had fallen into a bottomless ice cellar, with an ice knife pressed straight against his heart, freezing the blood in his body.

His thoughts stretched endlessly for a moment, like a train with no end in sight. When he came to his senses again, he finally saw the source of the pure white light—it really was a white sun.

Then, the "sun" exploded.

Rumble, rumble, rumble—!!!

Like a thunderbolt exploding on the ground, terrifying power burst forth in an instant, forming an overwhelming and destructive force. The deafening explosion traveled far and wide in all directions, while in contrast, a massive, dark, and heavy mushroom cloud rose straight upwards.

The billowing black dust, like dark clouds, obscured the entire mountain peak. Rocks and soil fell from the sky like a torrential rain, crashing onto the ground and kicking up even larger clouds of dust.

The entire mountain was engulfed in dust from the explosion, exuding an air of mystery like the "Land of Fog" from Norse mythology. However, what shrouded the area was not pure white fog, but an endless, dim yellow haze.

After an unknown amount of time, the filthy dust gradually dissipated, and the towering mountain peaks revealed their dilapidated bodies, half-hidden and half-revealed.

The mountain peak, nearly two hundred meters high, seemed to have been slapped by a giant god. Nearly half of the mountain collapsed, with rocks and vegetation crumbling into endless debris, buried in a mess of mud. The exposed broken walls stood silently, silently recording the horror of that attack.

In an instant, nearly half of the mountain was annihilated, as if it had never existed. Faced with the shock brought by this attack, no words seemed so pale and powerless, making one imagine that even the legendary divine punishment was no more than this.

Life was extinguished, all things were annihilated, and all existence was swallowed up by pure destruction, leaving only desolation to mercilessly demonstrate the indifference of the gods to the world.

On this tranquil land, a small mound suddenly rose up, and then an arm suddenly burst out of the ground. The scene was so terrifying that it reminded people of the living dead who were resurrected from the grave in folk legends.

boom!

Rocks and dirt exploded with a deafening roar, and the man in the blue bodysuit stood up, spitting out dust from his mouth, brushing the dirt and dead branches off his head. His beast-like, scarlet vertical pupils scanned the surrounding mess, and his handsome face showed no anger, but rather a cold smile.

"Not a single one left... Looks like the one who came is a formidable opponent."

With a flick of his toe, the scarlet spear sprang into his hand. He twirled it a few times, a hint of madness and ferocity flashing in his crimson eyes, and shouted:

"All irrelevant people have left. Aren't you going to come out? If I'm not mistaken, I'm your target, aren't I?"

The wind blew quietly by, ruffling the man's braid. He looked incredibly disheveled, covered in dust, but this did not diminish his fighting spirit and killing intent, which were like boiling magma.

"Or are you just a coward who likes to stab people in the back?" the man sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mockery.

A moment of silence fell, then a calm male voice rang out:

"Although I'm not keen on fighting you, it seems that this is perhaps our destiny."

Accompanied by crisp footsteps, a man wielding a knight's lance with a holy lily pattern and wearing azure silver armor walked from not far away. He had striking black hair, a handsome face as sharp as if carved by a knife and axe, and dark eyes like bottomless abysses, making people feel that if they looked directly into them, they would be swallowed up.

The man sized up the newcomer, then said thoughtfully, "Black hair and eyes, and that armor... Looks like you're the outsider who almost killed Tristan?"

"And how should I address you?" Yanan looked at the incredibly familiar man before him, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes. "Lanmalok? Or... Cú Chulainn?"

To be honest, before receiving the news from Nero, he hadn't expected that even Cú Chulainn would descend upon this world.

From the Land of Shadows to Fuyuki City, and now to this singularity, he and this big dog truly have an inexplicable, karmic entanglement.

Unfortunately, in this world, Cú Chulainn seems to have continued his bad luck as always, being captured immediately upon arrival and having his memories and perceptions altered.

However... it seems like he himself doesn't really care?

"Whatever, it's just a name, call me whatever you like." Cú Chulainn licked his lips, his eyes blazing with fighting spirit, his hand gripping Gajeberg tightly, his tone filled with unusual excitement, "Fight me, outsider! It's not easy to meet a warrior as strong as you, if I don't have a good fight, I won't let it go."

Ah, those eyes really do look familiar.

Yanan rubbed his temples, feeling a bit of a headache. It seemed that even with his perception altered, this guy was still incorrigible.

Sigh~ If it weren't for that troublesome [Battle Continuation], that Holy Lance Bloom should have blasted this guy to death.

"Why aren't you attacking yet? Do you think I'm not worthy to be your opponent?" Cú Chulainn's eyes flashed with anger. To him, being looked down upon was more unacceptable than death.

"Ugh."

Yanan sighed, flipped his hand, and the Black Abyss White Flower vanished instantly, replaced by the Black Abyss Spear, radiating a chilling aura of death.

"Oh? You're a Lacner like me too?" Cú Chulainn's eyes lit up, his fighting spirit burning even brighter. "That's perfect. Let me see if your spear skills can rival mine, since I'm a disciple of the Queen of the Land of Shadows!"

"Senior brother, let me make this clear first." Yanan casually flicked his spear, his jet-black eyes fixed on Cú Chulainn, a wicked smile appearing on his face.

"Junior brother, I might go a little too hard later. If I accidentally kill you, please don't blame me."

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Living Towards Death

On a desolate land, two figures entangled like whirlwinds, their jet-black and scarlet spears clashing at a dazzling speed, bursting into brilliant sparks and piercing screams.

This is truly the pinnacle of martial arts, the ultimate level that a mortal body can reach. Going any further would lead to the realm of the superhuman.

The jet-black spear crashed down, its cold tip slicing through the air with a sharp whistle. Cú Chulainn lifted Gajeberg above his head, and with a deafening boom, the immense force of the spear slammed down, sending a shiver through Gajeberg's arm and causing his towering frame to droop slightly.