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"I've been summoned back by the king? I understand. I'll leave immediately."

"Gawain, I'm leaving these matters to you. The king has given orders that the captured Saxons can be integrated into the army in small numbers, while the others should be enslaved. It's your responsibility to keep an eye on them, and if any attempt to rebel, they should be killed!"

"Understood, Sir Artoria."

"Please don't address me as 'Sir.' I am just an apprentice knight serving the king, and I don't yet deserve such a title. In any case, I'll leave these matters in your capable hands, Sir Gawain, Sir Lamorak, and Sir Lancelot. I must be on my way as the king has summoned me."

Upon hearing the king's call, Artoria swiftly relinquished her authority, mounted her horse, and departed with Excalibur in hand. Witnessing this, Gawain and the others were deeply moved.

Although Artoria may not have been aware of it, her face bore a genuine smile from the heart.

"Sir Artoria, you always execute the king's commands with such remarkable efficiency," Gawain expressed, unable to articulate his emotions beyond this single statement.

Urging her horse towards Cornwall, Artoria felt a surge of excitement and indescribable emotion within her, compelling her to hasten to the king's side and help shoulder his burdens.

For Artoria, this feeling was the very embodiment of loyalty—a knight's unwavering devotion to their king.

She viewed the king as wise, with a deep understanding of human nature, and an unparalleled ability to bring happiness to his people. To Artoria, he was the ideal king she had always sought.

At least, that was how Artoria perceived it.

For two long years, she had watched as the king worked tirelessly to impart his wisdom and lift the kingdom from the depths of despair, one step at a time.

To Artoria, he was the embodiment of the perfect king and the very embodiment of her sworn loyalty.

In the presence of the king's unparalleled wisdom and strength, she couldn't help but feel small.

The king was like a mighty tree, providing shelter from the scorching sun and allowing them to rest in its cooling shade.

With the king holding up the collapsing sky, Artoria felt no fear of danger.

She knew that as long as she remained by his side, all worries would vanish. The wise king had a solution for every problem.

However, as soon as the king promised to return her to the throne, she knew deep down that it was all just a beautiful but fleeting dream. After all, dreams eventually come to an end, and the king must eventually depart.

But this particular dream was cruelly short-lived, lasting only two and a half years before it was over. According to the agreement between the king and Merlin, he was to serve as a proxy ruler until Vortigern was defeated and Merlin could guide him back home.

At that moment, she couldn't quite put a name to the jumble of emotions swirling within her. All she knew was that she felt content as long as she remained by the king's side, attending to his every word and executing his every command.

...

In the north, the defensive line had been fortified, but the relentless attacks by the monsters had taken a heavy toll. The battleground was littered with the corpses of both soldiers and beasts, and the air was thick with the stench of blood.

Despite the overwhelming odds, the soldiers behind the barricades refused to yield. With fierce roars, they fought with every last ounce of their strength.

The people of Cornwall also brought medicine to the front lines. Wounded soldiers were carried down one after another, and responsible civilians stepped forward to staunch their bleeding and administer treatment.

From time to time, a two-legged wyvern would soar over the archers' arrows and swoop down to attack the rear ranks, only to be swiftly dispatched by soldiers armed with spears during their moments of rest.

During this period, the monsters' attacks grew more strategic and methodical. They deployed flying beasts to exploit Shirou's side's lack of an air force, and cleverly slipped through the arrow rain unleashed by Tristan's archers to strike at the vulnerable supply lines. The attacks were so successful that Cornwall had to dispatch a group of soldiers to protect the convoys and ensure their safe arrival.

The wounded soldiers who were carried down had suffered gruesome injuries, with some having their hands torn apart by monsters and others having their eyes gouged out. But even as they writhed in pain, they cried out to be allowed to return to the front lines and fight again.

The responsible commanders scolded them harshly, knowing full well that such heroism would only worsen their injuries and jeopardize the campaign. They insisted that the soldiers rest and recover before even considering a return to battle.

The entire battle line was holding its breath, knowing that the enemy was too strong. While defending was manageable, initiating attacks would be suicidal.

The most critical issue was that no one could defeat Vortigern at this moment, not even Arcueid, who had become one of the top fighters on Shirou's side and could activate 50% of her power. However, her 50% power was somewhat exaggerated. Her body had not yet fully recovered, and her true ability was probably only slightly higher than normal 30%, which was still not enough to be a match for Vortigern.

Vortigern was well aware that Cornwall would not be an easy conquest. They had shifted their attacks from the initial beast rush to more strategic and calculated ones. Shirou's side took turns defending while Vortigern attacked in batches, forming a battle formation that persisted day and night, utilizing the full power of every monster at their disposal.

It wasn't power that was truly terrifying, but the wisdom that could drive that power. And Vortigern had begun to showcase this wisdom, utilizing not just the monsters' formations, but also the bards' public opinion.

Unfortunately, in this situation, only those with a brain disorder would be fooled by him.

Shirou had even employed bards and poets to create counter-propaganda in an attempt to divide the Saxons within Vortigern's army. Unfortunately, it seemed to have little effect.

In any case, when it came to attacking a city, manpower alone was always inferior to brute force. This realization caused Shirou to worry greatly. If the situation continued in this manner, Vortigern would eventually breach the defensive line.

Once the defensive line was breached, there would be no more strategic strongholds left for Cornwall to defend!

So, when the defensive line was somewhat stable, he quickly brought Merlin back to Cornwall and awakened Arcueid.

As a holder of the Marble Phantasm, Arcueid possessed a powerful ability that was of the same strategic importance in war as Morgan's expertise in alchemical creations.

Shirou stood atop the wall and pointed towards the stone giant of Morgan, locked in battle with the beasts on the field. He turned to Arcueid and asked, "Can you materialize more of these stone giants?"

"I can, but I may not be able to create too many at once," she replied.

Shirou nodded, understanding the limitations.

Arcueid proceeded to materialize over two hundred stone giants and deployed them onto the battlefield, immediately relieving the pressure on the defensive line.

Morgan's eyes widened in surprise, her expression somewhat displeased. She had spent over two years gathering materials and creating more than seven hundred stone giants with great effort.

Seeing Arcueid materialize over two hundred of them out of thin air made Morgan feel quite uncomfortable. Nevertheless, given that they were on the battlefield, she managed to convince herself to feel pleased about the reinforcements.

Shirou turned to Merlin and asked, "Has Artoria returned yet?"

Merlin responded, "She's on her way and should arrive tonight."

"Good," he nodded. "Inform Artoria that she doesn't need to return to the front line. Instead, she should go directly to Scathach's location and take over her position. Then, instruct Scathach to leave behind some soldiers and create an illusion that the army is still present using rolling logs. The rest of the army will take the mountain path and return to Cornwall, from where they will take a boat to Ireland and launch a surprise naval attack behind Camelot to capture it."

"I see," Merlin nodded in agreement. "Having a True Ancestor with us will allow us to free Scathach and launch a surprise attack." He then sent out a message with his spell.

Upon receiving the order, Scathach swiftly acted. She left behind two hundred soldiers and departed from the mountain forest near Caerleon.

The two hundred soldiers left behind created the illusion of an ongoing battle by pushing rolling logs and raising smoke, forcing the Saxons guarding Caerleon to remain alert.

Artoria promptly followed the orders and redirected her course towards Caerleon. Although she felt slightly uncomfortable, she quickly adjusted her mindset.

As the king's command was her top priority, she knew she had to fulfill her duties to the best of her abilities.

"Magi, fire the artillery and force Vortigern to face us in a battle to the death!" Shirou commanded.

"Understood, your majesty!"

On the battlefield, Vortigern's gaze remained fixed on Cornwall, his expression an unhappy mix of impatience and frustration. He was annoyed that such a small kingdom could slow down his conquest.

His fierce glare was aimed towards Shirou, stationed on the northern defensive line, his expression equally fierce.

Meanwhile, among the Saxons behind the beasts' army.

Meksis squinted his eyes as he observed the bards who were propagating the beauty of Cornwall.

He turned to his second-in-command and asked, "How many Saxons have been influenced by their propaganda?"

"I'm not entirely certain, but I suspect that quite a few have been swayed by their words. After all, the Saxons follow the king because he can provide them with food and land. However, the current situation has left them with nothing, and to make matters worse, they are being used as food for the beasts. In such a dire circumstance, the bards' songs praising Cornwall might prove to be a dangerous temptation," his second-in-command replied with concern.

"I'm afraid that the majority of our soldiers have been influenced," Meksis said with a gentle smile. "It seems that even in Cornwall, there are those who understand the power of poetry. I would have liked to meet this person, share a cup of tea, and enjoy a chat on a sunny day. But it seems that we are fated to face each other with swords instead."

He smiled warmly, radiating a sense of warmth much like the sun itself.

Meanwhile, the second-in-command lowered his head deeply. He knew that their king had become an inhuman figure, a cold executioner. However, a considerable number of people still followed him, not for any other reason but because of his accompanying magus.

"I am aware that someone in Cornwall could use this to their advantage," Meksis said as he put on his cloak. "Although I am sorry, I must do what is necessary for my king."

"What about those bards, Lord Meksis?"

"Escort them to Camelot, but do not harm them."

"Yes, my lord," he responded, though he couldn't help but feel a sense of doubt. Why spare them?

...

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