[No one can understand what is happening.]
[No one knows why this knight, who can soar through the skies, has chosen to strike against them.]
[But the Saxons understand one thing clearly.]
[This is a dangerous enemy that must be exterminated.]
[However, they are thinking too naively.]
[No matter what kind of weapons they wield, they cannot touch her figure.]
[Her speed is so fast that the naked eye cannot capture it.]
[With punches and sword strikes, she can crush a person to pieces, even soldiers in heavy armor are no exception.]
[She pierces and destroys as easily as if she were cutting through paper.]
[This is not something a human can do.]
"—Monster!"
The Saxons squeeze the words from their throats.
And this becomes the last thing he says.
In the next second, his head is severed and flies into the air, accompanied by a spray of bright red, eerie blood falling to the ground.
[Yes, this is a monster.]
[Otherwise, she must at least be a human weapon.]
[Even though the knight's posture is so beautiful and dazzling, it does not change the fact that she possesses inhuman strength.]
[The Saxons, who were originally slaughtering the local tribes, have in an instant become prey in the mouth of the beautiful knight.]
[No one can withstand her sharp strike.]
[No one can keep up with her speed.]
[For the Saxons, once they see the figure of the beautiful knight, it is equivalent to the arrival of death.]
"Ugh—"
The severely injured man cannot stop his teeth from chattering, unable to close his mouth.
He is captivated by the beautiful knight's exquisite swordsmanship, yet terrified by her inhuman strength, causing him to tremble uncontrollably.
Just as she initially declared.
The knight considers only the Saxons as her enemies; the survivors of the local tribes are not her prey.
"Hmm? Survivors?"
The beautiful knight shifts her sword away from the severely injured man.
Behind her is a pile of shredded corpses.
Every Saxon within her line of sight has not been able to leave alive.
"…Are you… a deity?"
The severely injured man asks tremulously.
He looks at this imposing and beautiful knight, feeling that only a deity could achieve such miracles.
He does not know why he has the courage to speak.
Perhaps it is simply a loss of the ability to think.
"God? Don't confuse me with that kind of thing. I am Albion, here in the name of my king to exterminate the Saxons."
"…Albion? King?"
The severely injured man does not understand the knight's words.
His consciousness is already quite hazy, and he cannot recall the meaning contained in this name for a while.
"You're not… here to kill us…?"
"To kill you? Could it be that you Britons do not cherish life? I am the dragon that protects Britain, and I have no interest in indiscriminate slaughter. Looking at your condition, you probably won't live long. However, you are quite lucky, having encountered a rare good moment."
The beautiful knight's tone is quite cheerful.
Like an innocent and pure girl, she shows none of the coldness she had when slaughtering the Saxons just moments ago.
Although her face is concealed by a mask.
Her expression must be one of joy and excitement.
"A good moment… what is that…?"
"My king is the king blessed by Albion; human, be grateful for this grace. You will not die here. Now, I still have enemies to clear out, and I must finish the job."
[Perhaps, this is due to it being the first battle.]
[The beautiful knight, when mentioning the king she serves, spoke with nothing but respect and affection.]
[Indeed, she said quite a bit more than necessary.]
[This would not hinder her efficient work.]
"Finally, human, have you decided this? To accept the fact that your homeland is being ravaged by the enemy? It's meaningless to save your homeland without using your own hands."
The beautiful knight left these words behind.
Then, she plunged back into the battlefield to eliminate the enemy.
This question echoed in the man's heart.
Accept? She said accept…?
The eyes of the severely injured man revealed a gaze as if he were shooting the living, filled with an uncontrollable rage that made him grit his teeth.
No one could accept such an ending.
He too had friends, family, and a beloved woman, deeply loving his tribe and homeland.
Now, watching everything being sullied due to defeat, falling into a state of having nothing.
Such things—
The barbarians from beyond the island ravaged everything he loved, watching them violate women, slaughter children, and hang the elderly.
"Ah… guh…"
The severely injured man was continuously spitting blood.
Even making sounds had become extremely difficult.
He remembered how even children younger than him had sworn to fight until the last moment; how could he give up now?
Although that beautiful knight was a non-human existence.
But, at this point, it didn't matter.
Even if what stood before him was a demonic presence, he felt it didn't matter; he only desired one thing—
"｀～I want, victory…!"
The man gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with the flames of revenge.
Victory, to offer the final glory to his family.
To bring peace to those fallen comrades and family, to seek happiness for countless descendants.
And, for his own soul.
There were many like him, praying in this hell, on the stage called Britain.
The severely injured man was merely one of countless reflections.
So much sadness, so much sorrow.
His gaze turned to the village burning in flames.
There, stood a figure.
It seemed he had heard the man's plea from the ground, his deep eyes watching every corner of the village.
"Ha… I will not let this scene continue. If the gods do not save, if the world does not save, if no one can save—
Then, I will save, I will grant Britain redemption!"
Moran said against the roaring winds.
[You can not only hear the voice of the man on the ground yearning, but also the voices of the dead, entangled by grievances, still tormented by curses after death.]
[As a sorcerer skilled in controlling souls,]
[You saw the many experiences of souls in life, and the tragic ends they faced.]
[Although you merely regarded becoming king as a means to seek your own happiness,]
[Building a beautiful utopia is your pursuit as a king; from a duty standpoint, you cannot ignore this.]
[Thus, you will bring hope to the people.]
[Just as in the past, you will show miracles—]
"I will grant the people peace of soul, illuminating my people with unending light. In the name of Moran, I promise to bring you supreme victory."