Heir of White Dragon King
On the second day after the campaign against the Usurper King...
In the northern part of the British Isles, atop a snowy plateau that seemed frozen for eternity...
On this land, known as Scotland in later times, a young visitor arrived.
Artorius Pendragon, a knight in his youth, accompanied by his three followers—Gareth, Galahad, and Mordred—four knights in total, advanced toward the gathering place of the Saxons.
"We are messengers of King Arthur!" Gareth shouted fearlessly. "We demand an audience with the Saxon leaders!"
Such a cry attracted a large number of ragged Saxons, mostly men but also women and elderly individuals.
Most of them bore frostbite in various parts of their bodies. These disheveled, gloomy-eyed Germanic immigrants stared at Artorius and his companions with a mixture of hatred and, more prominently, fear.
In the eyes of the Saxons, King Arthur and his knights were the symbol of invincibility, having emerged victorious time and time again in the eleven consecutive battles fought before.
"Well, let me see..." However, in the next moment, Artorius waved his hand, stopping Gareth.
"What's the matter, Your Highness?" Gareth asked, somewhat perplexed.
"Let's try a different approach," Artorius said to her. "Tell them I am the heir of Vortigern Pendragon."
"???"
"Your Highness?!"
Artorius had inherited Vortigern's territory and authority. All the lands of northern Britain had become Artorius's domain, as proclaimed publicly by Artoria herself, and it had not sparked much opposition.
Nevertheless, Vortigern's surname remains 'Pendragon'. After his death, his territory and power returned to the Pendragon Family, as it should be.
But, claiming to be the heir of Vortigern Pendragon on Saxon soil? This surprised Gareth and even made her somewhat angry. In a sense, it was like a betrayal to King Arthur!
"This is what I deserve..." Artorius said, looking at Gareth earnestly. He held the girl's wrist tightly. "The authority belongs to me, my followers, my army... Sir Gareth. Don't you agree with that?"
"Your Highness..."
"...It will benefit us."
Artorius drew closer to Gareth, his presence and pressure intensifying.
The relentless wars had harmed not only the barbarians but also Britain. Especially with crops dwindling, if they were to continue resolving the Saxon issue through war, they would have to squeeze the common people.
"We would have to deprive the people of their food for the sake of military supplies. Gareth, do you think that's acceptable?"
Of course, it was not.
In the shortest amount of time, the girl was convinced by Artorius.
Prince Artorius remained a gentle and kind boy, with the only difference being his newfound sense of responsibility.
"For the sake of Britain and its people, what does it matter if my personal reputation suffers, Gareth?"
With Artorius speaking in such a sincere tone, Gareth's guilt and fondness for him increased significantly.
"I... I understand."
Gareth nodded in a slightly flustered manner. She instinctively wanted to pull her hand back from Artorius's grip, yet felt reluctant to do so.
And then...
"The heir of Vortigern Pendragon, His Highness Artorius Pendragon has arrived!"
On the other side, Mordred had already lifted her head and shouted. The sound reverberated, causing the accumulated snow on the trees to fall.
Gareth: "..."
Gareth frowned, feeling as if something had been taken away from her.
Oh, of course, when Artorius held Gareth's hand just now, Mordred also felt somewhat offended.
===
The knights continued their journey. Only this time, the gaze of the Saxons towards them had slightly changed. In addition to fear, curiosity, and anticipation had also grown.
And so, two days later, Artorius's wish came true.
On the gathering spot of the Saxons, on a cold and rigid patch of ground trampled by the Saxons, he met forty-three cunning Saxon tribal chiefs.
"No need for pleasantries." Without hesitation, Artorius surveyed his surroundings and then stated his purpose. "On behalf and as the heir of Vortigern Pendragon, I command you to swear allegiance to me."
Artorius's words naturally evoked surprise and opposition.
But in the next second...
A strong sense of fear, the biting cold of ice, and the aura of dragons descended.
It was the authority Artorius had inherited from his great-uncle. The fear of being killed at any moment confirmed to all Saxon chieftains that Artorius spoke the truth.
This draconic power and fear reminded them of the terror of being ruled by the White Dragon and the shame of being driven by foreign races.
"Any objections?" Artorius surveyed his surroundings. "In that case, step forward one by one, state your names, and kiss my ring."
The Saxons looked at each other, shaken but none dared to comply with Artorius's words.
"Just because you are the White Dragon King's heir doesn't mean we have to obey you!" Finally, a chieftain gathered his courage and shouted. "We followed the White Dragon's will, traveling far to Britain, with promises of wealth and land. But all we received was death and suffering! Now that he's dead, why should we let another Celt from Britain ride on our heads?!"
His words gained support from many Saxons.
"Yes, he's right!"
"That's it! We won't be fooled again!"
"Get lost, Celts! Out of respect for the White Dragon King, we won't kill you!"
"What should we do next, Your Highness?"
Beside Artorius, Galahad asked softly. At the same time, Gareth and Mordred tightened their grip on their weapons, ready to escort Artorius and make a break for it.
But they didn't have to.
"All bark and no bite." Artorius calmly commented, "Just like a pack of wolves. The new Alpha needs to display overwhelming power, and the pack will obediently submit, showing their bellies in surrender."
Artorius's words left Gareth feeling somewhat conflicted. However, now wasn't the time to tend to the girl's emotions.
He drew his sword and loudly proclaimed to the Saxons, "I can wipe you all out, just by myself!"
Above their heads, dark clouds gathered at the swiftest pace, symbolizing the impending arrival of thunder and storm.