Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

"Traitor who colluded with barbarians and harmed his own people!"

"Traitors? Ha, why so arrogant, why so denying? Why claiming to be human? Britain must be destroyed. You must be exterminated."

On the dragon's back, the man, shrouded in black mist and whose face was indistinct, looked down with disdain, his voice low and somber.

"If this island is to be defiled by humans, then I will use my own hands to restore it to its original state!"

———Turn the great Britain into hell.

"A dark paradise that will never be habitable for humans in the future..."

The humble king Futigeng.

The despicable king who summoned foreign tribes and planned to bring Britain under his control was an existence that the Round Table could not understand and unanimously despised.

What a mad declaration!

The fiery Sun Knight, with a stern expression, roared as he brandished the holy sword imbued with the power of the sun, which blazed with intense sunlight, at the shadow looming overhead.

"My holy sword is the embodiment of the sun, capable of purifying all impurities. You lowly king Voodoo, be slain here! —Fire and Mist!"

If the king's sword is a holy blade that gathers the light of stars.

Therefore, his sword is a reflection of the sun, burning away the hammer of evil.

Moreover, as a Sun Knight, he was blessed by a saint and possessed a special physique.

即从上午的9点到正午的3个小时，以及下午3点到日落的3个小时，他所持有的力量将会变为3倍。

And now, it's exactly noon!

boom!

The knight, blessed by the saint and protected by the sun, confidently swung his sword, and the low-ranking dragons that swooped down along the way screamed and turned to ashes.

Behind him, a group of fully armed knights gathered under his banner, cheering loudly.

In the Twelve Dynasties Wars, led by the king and his knights, they were invincible; no darkness could stand in the way of the light!

We stormed the fortified city and crushed the main force of the alien race that had been entrenched there. Even though the King of the North came in person, the enemy consisted of only the Lowly King.

And a group of beasts mixed with dragon blood.

Our side consisted of the almost unharmed Knights of the Round Table and their elite soldiers.

The enemy's defeat was already inevitable, and there was no need for them to regroup and gather strength for another battle.

A battle they could win easily, without their king having to lift a finger.

This is almost a consensus among them.

However, facing the blazing pillar of fire that was hurtling towards him, Voodoo on the dragon's back merely raised his hand slightly, made a grasping motion in front of him, and whispered softly.

"Light Devouring!"

In an instant, darkness like an ink dragon rolled out from Vortigern's body, as if molten iron was poured onto the sky, corroding through the dome, and the light from the sun was annihilated in the blink of an eye.

Even at midday, it was still pitch black as far as the eye could see; no one could see their own hand in front of their face.

A moment later, the black shadow on the dragon's back lowered its arm, which was covered in ferocious iron armor, and the surrounding red and black mist became even denser.

Light Devourer, as the name suggests, is the ability to devour light, taking away the omnipresent light on earth and turning it into its own magic power.

Even the light emitted by a Noble Phantasm can be swallowed up; only legendary divine weapons can defeat this almost insurmountable darkness.

"Varied---"

Gawain's pupils contracted sharply, his face filled with disbelief, and the Knights of the Order were equally speechless.

However, this moment of hesitation is already inextricably linked to death!

Just then, the man on the dragon's back curled his fingers and gripped the sword horizontally, instantly compressing the surrounding darkness into a jet-black longsword wrapped with red patterns.

"King's Hammer, Reverse the Dawn! Take this blow head-on, and then, die!"

With a cold, sharp shout, Vortigern's iron arm swung down, and a terrifying beam of red and black light, compressed to its limit, was suddenly released.

Boom boom boom!

Instantly, a massive mushroom cloud rose from within the fortress, followed by a thunderous explosion.

In the darkness, human bodies writhed, iron blocks melted, and city walls collapsed like candles, as if the scorching breath of a dragon was dissolving everything on the ground.

With a single strike, hundreds of Cavalry Knights, like land tanks, vaporized the soldiers, leaving behind only a desolate scene of lifelessness.

No, there's more!

Futigeng frowned and lowered his eyes, his brows gradually furrowing.

Wow...

Amidst the devastated ruins, piles of rubble loosened and slid down, revealing a figure bearing the marks of scorching heat, leaning on a sword to support himself.

The once spirited Sun Knight now had shattered armor, and each violent cough brought out crimson blood from the corners of his mouth. Even standing before Vortigern, he swayed precariously, seemingly about to collapse.

"As expected of the Sun Knight, the stubborn Gawain, he can still stand up."

On the dragon's back, the serpentine creature with its dim yellow vertical pupils looked down with a hint of surprise on its pale face.

In the Knights of the Round Table, Gawain was already known for his exceptional physical strength and resilience.

And the "Triple Gawain," blessed by the saint and bathed in the midday sun, is even more spirited, a monster of endurance that leaves others helpless, nicknamed "Earth's Strongest Gorilla."

Therefore, even with this terrifying blow that melted the earth's surface, the invincible Gao Wenqing ultimately managed to withstand it.

But the enemy's lament, now that the situation had reversed, sounded particularly jarring.

Moreover, even if Gawain had survived Vortigern's heavy blows, his body had reached its limit. Faced with this monster, who was even more monstrous than himself, he had lost the strength to fight, and the holy sword forged by the fairies in his hand had become dull and lifeless.

The lowly king Vortigern devoured the holy sword, the Radiant Dragon. Just as light and darkness coexist, the more sacred the opponent, the thicker the darkness.

His holy sword (Gallatin), its brilliance has been taken away, and he has suffered a complete defeat.

"What an eyesore! Let it drown in this darkness!"

At this moment, Vortigern sensed several auras rapidly approaching from the surroundings. His dim, serpentine eyes glanced at Gawain, who was struggling to stay upright amidst the ruins. The red and black magic sword in his hand once again condensed with eerie light, coldly announcing the end of this Sun Knight.

"Whoosh!"

"boom!"

At the critical moment, a brilliant golden light shot from afar and clashed with the red and black demonic sword.

Amidst the piercing clang of metal, the demonic sword Vortigern swung was deflected by the burst of magical power.

The lowly king frowned, a sinister glint flashing in his eyes. He immediately raised his left hand, a ball of black magic bullet gathering in his palm, intending to finish off the defeated Gawain first.

"boom!"

However, a silvery-white beam of light, like starlight falling from the sky, pierced through the air and once again forced Voodoo on the dragon's back to retreat.

With the earth trembling and the neighing of warhorses, the King of Britain, clad in full silver-white armor, swiftly approached, wielding a two-meter-long metal lance with a large, silver-white tip.

Approaching the battlefield, he turned sideways, pulled the weapon that had stopped Vortigern from the ground, and sheathed it.

The king's sword, the chosen sword—Caliburn.

The golden radiance that once rivaled the brilliance of stars is now like a faint campfire.

He was spared death because the king protected him.

The king's holy sword will lose its brilliance because of his recklessness and incompetence.

Gao Wen's pupils contracted slightly, and his face showed shame.

Chapter Four: An Outrageous Reality

"That's it for now..."

A cool, thoughtful voice came from the silver-white armor; the words were addressed to both Vortigern and him.

Gao Wen felt utterly ashamed.

But fortune and misfortune are intertwined. Gawain's setback at the hands of the lowly King Vortigern also extinguished his arrogance that he believed he was invincible under the sun, and he regained his awe and humility towards the world.

"Arthur, the son of prophecy? Hahaha, how laughable! Uther is truly senile; you think you can stop me!"

A middle-aged man with shadowy hair, chillingly dark vertical pupils, and sharp hands and feet, frowned and sneered.

The black mist surrounding him surged violently, the eerie patterns on the red and black magic sword in his hand lit up, the demonic dragon beneath him roared with its neck raised, and huge magical light patterns connected in mid-air to form an inverted ring array.

Instantly, the sky seemed to be eroded with a huge, dark hole. With the resonance of the magic runes, the entire ether of Britain formed a black tide that seemed to be tangible, frantically converging towards that dark vortex.

Wherever the black tide passed, plants withered, land turned to sand, animals became restless and agitated, and all life and vitality were swallowed up by that enormous mouth that seemed to open from the abyss.

This is the White Dragon of Britain, Vortigern the Humble King?

Holy crap, that's a godlike reaction!

Hidden by the trees, Samael, who was quietly watching the battle, narrowed his serpentine eyes as he gazed at the red and black light shooting into the sky from the city of Baden. His mind was racing with thoughts.

With the gods gone and the heroes gone, the Roman Empire, which occupied vast lands, ushered in its most glorious moment.

Glory once belonged to Greece, but greatness has come to Rome.

However, Boudica, the Queen of Victory, and Nero, the last Roman emperor, coexisted by covenant.

Britannia naturally became Roman territory, basking in this glory.

But no empire lasts forever. After generations of imperial succession, Rome's prosperity vanished, plunging it into chaos and teetering on the brink of collapse.

Amidst the turmoil, barbarian tribes rose up on all sides, beginning a bloody struggle for territory.

The waning Roman Empire had no time to spare, abandoning its own territory, Britannia, and withdrawing all its armed forces from the island.

Once Britannia lost the protection of the empire, it could not escape the cycle of independence, disintegration, and fragmentation, and thus quickly split into several small countries.

During this period, barbarian invasions and inter-tribal warfare ushered in what later became known as the long "Dark Ages."

As the continental empire declined, unrestrained foreign tribes (Saxons) began to invade Britain in order to survive.

Faced with foreign invasion, the Celts rose up in resistance, forming the Southern Kingdom led by Uther Pendragon.

Of course, he should now be called "the late king," since, barring any unforeseen circumstances, this guy is already dead.

However, it must be said that Uther Pendragon was indeed exceptional. He had served in the Roman legions and possessed commendable military and political talents.

At the same time, Uther Pendragon is also a unique being imbued with mystery by the island of Britain, possessing considerable talent.

Because of his meritorious service in resisting foreign enemies and the support of the Celts, he was honored as King Uther.

However, war-torn Britain was not ruled solely by King Uther; in fact, it was a land of many powerful vassals.

As one of the foreign enemies resisting in the North, Vortigern Pendragon, Uther's brother, was naturally unwilling to be subservient. Thus, Vortigern, in a land of constant conflict, used foreign tribes to seize the throne and attempt to annex the South and unify Britain.

More than a decade ago, King Uther was defeated and seriously wounded by the King of the Lowly, whose power had increased for some reason.

Seeing no hope of unifying Britain, Uther also began to place his hopes on the next king.

However, the mystery surrounding the island of Britain was waning, making it impossible for him to determine whether the next king would still be able to obtain the protection of this land.

Therefore, Uther and the magician Merlin came up with a bold idea: the former king of Britain, who was blessed by the gods, was merely above mortals, and this level of power was insufficient to defeat the greatly enhanced Vortigern.

Therefore, the two decided to portray the new king as a non-human being from the very beginning.

Simply put, they underwent a conceptual conception: the bloodline of the King of Britain, the bloodline of the British incarnation—the Red Dragon, and the bloodline of the womb used to fuse the two—the bloodline of a noble woman.

Finally, on the gentle slope, a new king was born, possessing the heart of a dragon, whose every drop of blood contained etheric elements.

To build momentum for the new king, King Uther, on his deathbed, plunged his sword, the "Caliburn," into a rock and sealed it with a spell.

This is the origin of the inscription on the sword.

"Whoever can pull this sword from the stone platform will be the chosen king of Britain!"

Several years ago, the great sage Merlin also made a prophecy in advance.

"The successor to King Uther will be favored by the Mandate of Heaven; this person is the incarnation of the Red Dragon and the Eternal King of Britain."

When the new king appears, the Knights of the Round Table will gather, and the White Dragon will be defeated!

From then on, every British knight was looking forward to the new king, and they all had the impetuous thought that they were the chosen new king.

The lowly king, because of this prophecy, ferociously searched for a new king. Before the new king even ascended the throne, he had already gained considerable prestige among the common people and knights.

Everything went as the two of them had predicted.