In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

"Get out of here..."

Nidhogg simply couldn't understand why Ananon's demand was so strong; which of the two was the real dragon?

"It's all your fault! I was supposed to attend Morgan's tea party this afternoon, but now that's ruined..."

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Nidhogg suddenly grabbed Yanan's arm and bit it hard.

"Hiss, you actually bit me." Yanan gasped, the bite force of a dragon was no joke!

Looking at the clear teeth marks, Nidhogg felt a pang of regret, but the thought of the shameful things this guy had made her do earlier filled him with rage, and he snorted coldly:

"Let's see if you dare to make me pose in those weird positions again, and make me call you 'good brother'... I really don't know where you learned all this stuff."

Recalling his experience, Yanan couldn't help but smile. He had to admit that the dragon's body strength was indeed very high, able to withstand a lot of hardship, and its flexibility was also very strong, allowing it to easily perform all kinds of difficult movements.

He hadn't gone too far before because he felt sorry for Nidhogg, but this time, he wasn't holding back at all.

Whether he had seen or heard of it, he tried everything on Nidhogg that he had a memory of.

Nidhogg was completely bewildered. She did whatever Yanan said, obediently following his every word without any resistance.

This gave Yanan a great sense of satisfaction.

Seeing the silly grin on Yanan's face, Nidhogg had no idea what he was thinking. He felt both ashamed and angry, and wished he could take another bite!

Seeing Nidhogg's stunningly beautiful face flushed with rosy cheeks, Yanan felt a surge of desire again.

Stared at by those burning eyes, Nidhogg felt a little flustered. He turned his back to Yanan and mumbled, "I want to sleep."

Yanan smiled helplessly, but didn't force the issue, and leaned against the headboard to think about things.

Not long after, Nidhogg suddenly turned around again, biting her lower lip lightly with her pearly teeth, her cheeks flushing even more:

"Really... this is the last time, no, don't do any of that nonsense!"

Raising an eyebrow, Yanan's lips curled into a slight smile:

"As ordered."

The night is still long.

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Bathed in Dragon Blood, Crowned King!

This is the seventh year since Anaene pulled the sword from the stone.

During these seven years, he first completed the conquest of the Kingdom of Ghana, then used the coronation ceremony to eliminate the internal cancer in Camelot, clearing the way for reforms. He then led his troops north and annihilated the 50,000-strong allied army sent from the North. He even launched a counter-offensive and occupied the Kingdoms of Wessex, Sussex, and Kent.

After the Northern Offensive ended, due to the circumstances at the time, he did not choose to advance rashly, but returned to Camelot, partly to consolidate the gains of the war, and partly to accumulate strength in preparation for the final battle.

Now, four years have passed since that war that shocked all of Britain, and Anahn no longer wants to drag things out any longer.

Due to the limitations of the era, his initial reform plans were relatively simple, mainly focusing on food production and military affairs. The advantage of this was that it was quick and effective, but correspondingly, the room for subsequent development would become smaller and smaller.

After the initial period of high returns, the marginal benefits of reform are gradually diminishing, and now they have basically reached a bottleneck.

However, this does not mean that Camelot has become perfect. In fact, Camelot still has many flaws, such as its political system, education, social structure, and productivity, all of which are problems that need to be addressed.

However, these problems cannot be solved overnight; some may even take 30 to 50 years to see initial results. Therefore, Yanan decisively abandoned them all.

Because time wasn't entirely on his side.

Based on the system's hints, he guessed that at most seven years later, the final battle between him and Vortigern would break out.

At the time, he thought the system meant that Vortigern would inevitably declare war on Camelot within seven years, but after careful consideration, he had an even more terrifying idea:

Could it be that the system's true meaning is that if he cannot defeat Vortigern within seven years, he will never be able to defeat him again?

Thinking about it carefully, Vortigern possesses the Holy Grail and the concept of the [End of the Age of Gods] that he stole from Nidhogg. If he were given seven years, it's hard to say what he would become.

Perhaps one day Anan will wake up and find that the world has suddenly turned back into the Age of Gods.

If that's the case, all his efforts will have been in vain.

Camelot's current strength far surpasses his peak during King Uther's reign. Even if all the allied nations were to unite, they would only be able to easily defeat him. It is virtually impossible for him to make a significant improvement in the short term.

Although it is unknown how far Vortigern has progressed with his plan, Anan is no longer willing to wait.

Having made up his mind, Yanan immediately summoned Bedivere and others to hold a roundtable meeting.

"A decisive battle? Great! I've been waiting for this day! I can't wait to shove Vortigern's head up his ass!" Kay was the first to voice his support for Anahn's decision. So many years had passed; he was no longer the naive little boy who had just emerged from Tyrell. Now, he was a highly respected Knight of the Round Table, and because he often led the charge on the battlefield wielding the golden sword Krauss, he was even revered as the "Golden Knight."

However, because he had spent too much time on the battlefield, he developed a foul mouth at some point. After Yanan reminded him several times without success, he became too lazy to correct him anymore.

“I agree. Judging from the data we’ve collected, Camelot’s improvement is slowing down. However, this also confirms that we are currently at our peak. I think it’s perfectly reasonable to declare war on Vortigern at this time,” Bedivere continued. He had completely shed his former inferiority and weakness and was now shining with his own light. Even within the Knights of the Round Table, he was considered one of the best.

“I have no objection,” Artoria said. Under the long-term influence of Anaen, she had gradually come to understand the true wisdom of a king. Although she was just a woman, she was already the undisputed chief knight of the Knights of the Round Table.

It's worth mentioning that, having lost the influence of the Sword in the Stone, Artoria has now developed to a level that is in no way inferior to Morgan's. She is quite troubled by this, believing that such a body would be very inconvenient in battle.

As for the original chief knight Lancelot, he has already sworn allegiance to Anaen and become a member of the Knights of the Round Table, second only to Artoria in strength and status.

Since even these important figures had expressed their approval, the remaining Knights of the Round Table naturally had no objections and nodded in agreement.

Now that the decision to declare war has been made, the next step is naturally to formulate appropriate strategies and tactics. Under Anan’s deliberate training, each member of the Knights of the Round Table has unique insights in this regard. In addition, with the strategic masters Bedivere and Artoria, the strategy plan was finalized in just one month.

After the final strategic meeting, Yanan let everyone else leave first, but kept Artoria behind alone.

"Teacher, is there something you need me to do?" Artoria asked curiously.

Yanan leaned back in his high-backed chair, his eyes slightly closed, and asked, "Lily, do you remember how much time has passed since we first met?"

“Seven years and six months,” Artoria replied without hesitation.

"Really? It's been so long." Anaen sighed softly, looking at Artoria, and chuckled, "I never imagined that the little girl from back then would grow into such a beautiful young woman."

Artoria lowered her head slightly, a faint blush creeping onto her pretty face.

“I said before that I would teach you everything I know, and then return the throne to you.” Yanan looked up at the ceiling. “Now it’s about time.”

Artoria suddenly raised her head, her holy blue eyes filled with disbelief.

"Teacher, what you mean by that is...?"

Anan raised his palm, and a palm-sized box engraved with intricate patterns appeared in his hand. It was the control center of the Camelot array that Feuerius had given him.

The patterns on the box lit up one by one, converging into a dazzling brilliance. After a moment, the box disappeared, replaced by a knight's lance wrapped in spiral patterns.

"This gun is called Rungominiad, a tower of light anchored to the surface of the planet, and the key to humanity's ascent to the throne of primates."

"Your mission is to take this and kill Vortigern!"

"Then--

"Bathed in dragon's blood, crowned king!"

Chapter Fifty-Eight: The time for the decisive battle has arrived; this is the moment when humans and gods part ways.

Thanks to Yanan's deliberate training over the years, Camelot's militarization level has far surpassed that of this era.

He now commands an army of 50,000 men, including 15,000 cavalry, which is several times larger than the entirety of Britain and Europe combined.

The cost of raising such an army would be astronomical; if it weren't for the substantial profits from exporting grain to Europe, Yanan would not have been able to afford to support them.

With the money he earned, he practically emptied the iron ore reserves of Britain and Europe, equipping every member of his legion with excellent armor and weapons. In terms of equipment alone, he had already far surpassed other countries.

In addition, his specially prepared modern military training program greatly enhanced the cohesion and combat effectiveness of this army. Even without the intervention of Yanan and others, they alone were enough to sweep through the entire alliance of nations.

In addition, there is the God-Slaying Knights of Anan.

After seven years of preparation, this knightly order, into which Anan had poured his heart and soul, was finally formed, with a total of 931 members, each of whom was currently the most outstanding knight in Britain.

Each of them is a true warrior who has crossed the path of trials, with unwavering will and strong beliefs. Under Scáthach's guidance, their martial arts skills are also quite remarkable. In addition, with the second-generation pseudo-circuits and the Key of Domination they are equipped with, their combat power is simply terrifying.

—Although Anaen has not yet tested the Knights' true strength, according to Scáthach, the current fighting power of this Knights is no less than that of the legendary Fiona Knights led by Finn.

According to the previously formulated strategy, they will be divided into three routes to attack the Kingdom of Essex, the Kingdom of East Anglia, and the Kingdom of Mercia respectively. Then, the three armies will converge to launch a general offensive against the most powerful Kingdom of Northumbria.

After that, they will face the last line of defense in the North, Vortigern's stronghold—the fortress city of Lundinium.

Four years ago, when Yanan proposed the three-front war plan, many people thought he was crazy. Even Bedivere thought the plan was too risky. Now, four years later, they have once again chosen to fight on three fronts, and the challenger is still the Seven Kingdoms of the North in their complete state. But this time, no one has stood up to oppose it. Instead, they feel it is a matter of course.

This is the confidence that comes with increased strength.

Before long, the day of departure arrived. Anahn wore azure silver armor, a cloak inlaid with gold thread on his back, and the Sword in the Stone, a symbol of royal power, at his waist. Artoria and the others followed behind him, looking majestic and extraordinary.

He stood before tens of thousands of soldiers, surveyed them, raised the sword in the stone, and proclaimed:

"I am King Arthur, the chosen king of Camelot, the destined ruler of Britain! Here I declare to you, the time for the final battle has come, this is the moment of parting between man and god, the path to the future is in our hands, and the glory of humanity will surely shine upon the earth! Brave and invincible warriors, if you are ready, then give your lives to me!"

"Arthur! Arthur!"

"Arthur! Arthur!"

The soldiers, their blood boiling, shouted loudly, their eyes filled with fervor.

Yanan looked up at the sky, put his index finger and thumb together to his lips, and whistled loudly.

A moment later, a tall figure descended from the sky with vigorous strides. It was a white steed, much larger than an ordinary horse, with no other colors on its body, and its snow-white mane was bright and thick.

What's even more striking is that this horse has a total of eight legs.

The legendary eight-legged winged horse, Sleibnir, was finally successfully hatched thanks to the combined efforts of Slud and Scáthach.

Anann mounted Odin's mount, raised the sword in the stone high, its golden blade gleaming in the sunlight.

"Gentlemen—follow me into battle!"

......

......

Britain is an archipelago of about 20,000 square meters, which is not very large. The terrain of the island is mostly plains with few hills. In addition, in preparation for this war, Ananen had been arranging for people to build roads as early as four years ago. Now, the road from Camelot to the Wall in the North has been basically opened.

Although it was just a simple gravel path, it was enough to greatly increase the marching speed.

After a hurried journey of about half a month, Camelot's 50,000-strong army had all arrived at the Wall in the North.

They will rest here for five days before launching a formal attack on the remaining four northern kingdoms.

However, on the fifth day, a message suddenly reached Anaen's ears.

"The Kingdoms of Essex, East Anglia, and Mercia have amassed an army of 50,000 to attack Camelot?" Ananon's brow furrowed deeply. "Are you sure?"

"Your Majesty, although I may be a bit frivolous at times, I can still distinguish between what is important and what is urgent when it comes to such matters." Merlin, who was in Camelot and communicating with Anahn through magic, couldn't help but smile wryly.