Chapter 81: You Must Win, Chosen King!
King Pellinore was the strongest among the lords of the Northern Six Territories.
This strength was not only reflected in his personal combat ability but also in the fact that his knights were the strongest in the north, his troops were the strongest in the north, and even the number of troops he could mobilize was the greatest among the Northern Six Kings.
Among the Northern Six Kings, he, like King Mark, was responsible for becoming the frontline defense when Rome attacked Britain again.
For King Pellinore's side, Noah's original plan was to have the sacrificial magical beasts devour the nobles within King Pellinore's territory, then have the remaining beasts retreat directly.
But when Noah observed the situation using Mary's Clairvoyance, he discovered that the magical beasts were actually blocked by the garrison left by King Pellinore before they could charge into the nobles' domain!
Moreover, they were unable to break through these defenses for a long time.
Seeing this, Noah pondered for a moment, then contacted White, instructing her to control her White Dragon incarnation to make a trip to King Pellinore's territory!
Meanwhile, the Saxon Barbarians were locked in a stalemate with the Northern Three Territories and King Leodegrance, while Noah also arranged for King Rience to encircle the Saxon Barbarians at this moment.
Regarding the Saxon Barbarians, although Noah was confident he could subdue them after conquering Vortigern, he had no intention of doing so.
After all, during their time in Britain, the Saxon Barbarians had brought too much damage and hatred to the land.
They were different from the Picts.
The Picts could be subdued and accepted by the British people, but for these Saxon Barbarians, it was likely that no one in all of Britain wanted to see them as allies—they only wanted to see them dead!
Thus, while Vortigern could leave an incarnation behind, these Saxon Barbarians must die!
Even Noah had no intention of sparing them.
And this battle was the cemetery Noah had chosen for them.
The Northern Three Territories would serve as the front line, King Leodegrance would provide flank support, and King Rience would lead the southern troops to completely cut off the Saxon Barbarians' retreat, annihilating them in one fell swoop!
Perfect.
Coincidentally, this was still the time when magical beasts moved in hordes.
So if they tried to scatter and flee into the deep mountains, Noah had already communicated with the magical beasts.
Thus, today would not only mark the end of the Great Northern Beast Tide.
It would also be the end of the Saxon Barbarians!
And then...
The conflict between King Arthur and the White Dragon would officially begin!
"It's Vortigern, it's the White Dragon!"
In King Pellinore's territory, after returning, he had been preparing to launch a counterattack against the magical beasts. But at that moment, the sun in the sky was obscured by dark clouds, and the massive White Dragon emerged from the clouds, its shadow enveloping the entire territory.
The moment he saw the White Dragon, King Pellinore grabbed a long spear and rushed to the top of the city walls, looking up at the White Dragon in the sky.
Pressure.
Just by looking at it, King Pellinore could feel a terror akin to a rising tide.
He was no match for his opponent—this was clear without even fighting, just by standing here.
"Form ranks! Raise your weapons!"
"Whether the enemy is a magical beast or the White Dragon, we cannot retreat here!"
He is King Pellinore!
Therefore, he must not fear, must not retreat, and must stand his ground here!
And with King Pellinore's voice, the knights and soldiers who had been nearly paralyzed with fear earlier also began to raise their weapons!
Uh...
Their attacks were still too simplistic for Vortigern.
Their arrows could not penetrate Vortigern's scales, nor could they even reach Vortigern high in the sky. Even if Vortigern landed, their weapons could not breach the dragon's scales!
That White Dragon was the embodiment of despair, a monster utterly beyond human strength to oppose!
Merely by spreading its wings, the fierce winds and draconic aura it unleashed could easily force the knights back.
Even for King Pellinore, merely standing before Vortigern was an immensely difficult feat.
Moreover, with Vortigern drawing attention here, the magical beasts quickly bypassed the defensive line, directly infiltrating the interior of King Pellinore's territory.
—They were going to slaughter the nobles.
King Pellinore clearly realized that gathering more troops here would only lead to certain death before Vortigern.
So, gritting his teeth, he ordered the main force to retreat—to protect the people within the territory.
He could not allow the common folk to be directly exposed to the attacks of those magical beasts.
As for himself, he remained with a small contingent of elite knights, standing before Vortigern, gripping their weapons with all their might!
They were preparing for one final, desperate struggle.
They would launch the last charge befitting knights.
Even in death, they would neither regret nor retreat!
Therefore—
"Charge!"
King Pellinore, raising his spear high, charged forward against the wind pressure and draconic aura, while behind him, the other knights roared as they followed their lord!
Threat.
They all knew full well that such a charge could not inflict the slightest harm upon their foe.
They were only hastening their own deaths.
Yet at this moment, no one cared about that.
They were merely fulfilling their final duty as knights, as lords, as warriors!
If they retreated here, then who else would stand before the enemy, who else would shield the people!
Witnessing this charge, the White Dragon avatar controlled by White directly spread its wings. The terrifying wind pressure, combined with the draconic aura, pressed down from above, pinning the charging knights firmly in place. Then, hovering mid-air, it opened its maw.
The surrounding light and heat converged toward its mouth.
It was as if it held the sun between its jaws, dimming the surroundings while making the area grow increasingly colder.
Cold, darkness—such an environment effortlessly bred fear.
King Pellinore used his spear to support himself, struggling to his feet.
He knew that the knights behind him could no longer move.
But he was different.
So...
Ah———!
King Pellinore roared, taking another step forward.
The distance to Vortigern was not far, yet each step was exceptionally arduous.
But he still advanced.
He had to reach a position—not directly in the path of this wind pressure.
Then—he must gather all his strength to hurl his spear, to interrupt...
The knights behind him stood outside the city walls to protect the people.
And he, besides protecting the people, also stood in front of these knights to protect them!
Therefore...
I must stop this monster!
He understood better than anyone that he was no match for this White Dragon.
He understood better than anyone that compared to such monsters that only appear in myths, he was merely a mortal—one who had not inherited any mysteries, not even qualified to become the King of Britain...
But!
Mortals also have things they can do!
King Pellinore desperately stepped forward, and after reaching the position he needed, he hurled the long spear he had long held ready with an extremely peculiar motion!
Amidst the wind pressure, the spear he threw flew in a very strange arc—not from top to bottom, but from bottom to top, like a swallow soaring against the wind.
This strike directly hit the White Dragon's chin, the impact causing the dragon's attack to veer off course, grazing past King Pellinore's head and the backs of the knights pressed to the ground!
Some of King Pellinore's hair was singed, but he was smiling.
And the knights behind him were also laughing and cheering.
Then...
The White Dragon flew a bit higher and opened its mouth once more.
An even more terrifying wind pressure and draconic might this time pressed even King Pellinore to the ground.
Having exhausted all his strength, King Pellinore now lay prone on the ground. Yet even so, he did not lower his head before the enemy, his eyes fixed intently on the White Dragon in the sky, which continuously devoured light and heat. His gaze flickered with unwillingness and resentment, but there was nothing more he could do now.
But even if he were to die the next second, King Pellinore would not shift his gaze away from the enemy!
It was precisely because of this that he saw.
At that height unreachable by mortals like them, a figure clad in the armor exclusive to the king leaped directly before the enemy. Then, the White Dragon, which their attacks could not harm no matter what, had its scales torn apart by that Caliburn!
Boom—
The light and heat previously held by the White Dragon exploded in mid-air, as if igniting a sun beneath the gloomy clouds—a sun belonging to Britain!
Its radiance and the enemy's blood scattered toward the earth, and that king stood before all of them amidst this brilliance, dispelling darkness, driving away cold, and crushing the enemy!
At this moment, King Pellinore, who had been clenching his fist all along, loosened it.
Having long reached his physical limit, he finally let out a sigh of relief and lowered his head.
In the last second before losing consciousness, King Pellinore had this thought:
—To even dispel the thought of others comparing themselves to you, truly an unrivaled rain.
Therefore...
You must win, Chosen King!
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