Several figures danced through the air, breaking through the dust before falling like meteorites—instantly causing the alien army behind Lucius to wail in panic.
Gawain, Kay, Skadi, Gareth.
The four Knights of the Round Table, each with their own distinct style yet honed to their individual peaks, were surrounded by whirling tempests.
Empowered by the wind, they soared through the sky, moving freely as they began to efficiently tear through Lucius's alien forces.
With these four in the fray, it wouldn't take long to eliminate the biggest threats to the British army.
"It's your turn now. Go kill them," Lucius said to the man in the black robe beside him.
In truth, compared to Arthur, who treasured his soldiers, Lucius was the one who prioritized military strength more fervently.
Large-scale advances and sheer numbers were his strategy for securing victory—but casualties were inevitable. However, the Roman Empire, now operating as the rearguard, was under Britain's control. This meant that once the war ended, he would have to return, pacify the empire, and execute all the traitors.
Therefore, to achieve complete victory and carry forward the glory of Rome, it was essential to preserve as much of the Roman army's combat power as possible.
To accomplish this, Lucius had only one option.
Find Arthur, defeat him with overwhelming strength, and end the war swiftly. Only then could he return to Rome and, even with Britain's military assistance, ensure total conquest.
With that in mind, Lucius's constant presence on the battlefield was a calculated risk.
But the same was true for Arthur.
Which meant Arthur would definitely come.
"Leave Britain's red dragon to me."
"No."
"What?"
Lucius turned to the man in the black robe, surprised. This was the first time the man had ever contradicted him.
No—strictly speaking, Lucius had never actually given him any orders. The man handled everything so well that there had been no need. Subconsciously, Lucius had come to believe the man would always follow his will.
That unspoken understanding had become habitual.
So being surprised now was only natural.
"Our contract was to destroy Britain—either kill Arthur or force him to surrender. If that can't be accomplished, then I have no obligation to follow your orders," the black-robed man explained calmly.
"What do you mean?"
"You know you can't defeat him alone."
That was the man's assessment.
Lucius was no match for Arthur.
In a one-on-one, to-the-death battle, Arthur would be the one left standing. If it came to that, everything the man in black had done until now would be for nothing.
Neither side would compromise on this point.
Lucius seemed to understand. He took a deep breath, then suddenly burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! So that's what you think? You believe I'd lose? That Rome would lose? That we'd lose to Artorius? Coming from you, that's not surprising."
"I'm glad you understand."
"Oh, I understand all right. Knowing who you are, how could I not?" Lucius sneered, then suddenly swung his magic sword. "In that case, I don't need your presence in this war. Get out of my way."
With that, his magic sword released a bolt of red lightning—like a living serpent—that deftly lashed out and flung the man in black from his path.
Even in the final moment, the man seemed stunned, a look of disbelief frozen on his face.
Lucius grinned even wider upon seeing that expression.
"Hahaha! To think he doubted Rome's strength from the beginning—pathetic. Someone like that is completely useless."
"No way. I had a high opinion of him. The moment he sensed my presence, he disappeared from my view. Are you trying to ensure a fair fight, or are you just protecting him in disguise?" Arthur's voice rang out as he appeared in the air above.
"If that's how you want to put it... then I should say this: of course I want you!" Lucius grinned.
In the next instant, the beast beneath him let out a sharp, mournful cry.
Then the figure of the Scarlet Emperor vanished.
The Demon Sword Florent turned into a crimson streak of light, shooting straight toward Arthur.
Surprise!
At that instant, Arthur fully activated [Magic Card: Wind].
His speed and reflexes surged, bolstered by formidable mental fortitude and the insight of top-tier clairvoyance. In theory, even spatial movement shouldn't catch him off guard.
Yet this time, it did.
Arthur had no recollection of how Lucius had closed the distance.
He didn't react until the red sword was already swinging at him.
"How is that possible?!"
Driven by instinct, Arthur managed to draw the chosen sword—only halfway—but it was enough to block Lucius's first strike.
The second strike followed immediately.
The Radiant Shield, with its autonomous counterattack system, finally activated. It struck out toward the Demon Sword to deflect the fatal blow. A second shield expanded rapidly and lunged at the Emperor's body.
But it had no effect.
Ultimately, the Radiant Shield was a defensive tool. It packed a punch when used as a blunt instrument, but lacked the lethality of a true weapon. Lucius planted one hand on it, vaulted off, spun in midair, and delivered a powerful whip kick that sent Arthur hurtling toward the ground.
"Cough—!"
The Sword Emperor's full-powered blow struck cleanly.
The impact drove into Arthur like an invisible drill, rupturing internal organs and fracturing three ribs.
He spat blood as his body plummeted.
Definitely not Roman... No, that kind of technique didn't exist in Europe.
It was something more distant—reminiscent of the martial arts power-generation techniques buried deep in Arthur's memory.
He hadn't expected to be overwhelmed right from the start.
As he suspected, his adaptability in close combat was still lacking. A wound like this would instantly cripple an ordinary soldier. But for him, it was survivable. The rest was just pain...
To avoid crashing into the ground and worsening his injuries, Arthur forced himself to stay conscious. Channeling mental energy, he intensified the storm around him, cushioning the fall.
Just before impact, he twisted midair and dodged at an impossible angle, widening the gap between himself and Lucius.
However—
"Wow, wow! You can still move? Hahaha! Worthy of the British dragon's son. But you can't outrun Rome!"
Lucius's voice echoed right behind him.
Arthur turned, eyes wide in disbelief.
He was that close?
"Impossible...!" he gasped.
With the Magic Card: Wind, Arthur's speed rivaled a storm. Yet Lucius—without his mount—had kept up on foot.
He had underestimated him.
"What's so surprising?" Lucius grinned. "Of course I caught up. I'm Roma!"
Clang!
Arthur turned and slashed.
The golden holy sword and crimson demon sword collided with a resounding crash.
This time, they were evenly matched.
-End Chapter-
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