In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

Now she has to carefully consider every word Yanan says to make sure there's no trap in it.

What do you want to bet?

"Let's gamble on the possibilities of humanity."

Yanan's smile was faint and warm, but every word he uttered was like a thunderclap.

"I will personally build an army capable of slaying gods!"

"Huh!? Are you kidding me?" Nidhogg almost doubted his ears. "I advise you not to be so impulsive. You've never even seen a god, so you don't know how powerful they are—although apart from those few main gods, the rest of the gods are nothing more than trash that I can crush with a flick of my foot. But the difference between mortals and gods is beyond your imagination."

“I believe in the potential of humanity—that’s enough,” Yanan said with a smile.

"Hmph! Since you're so eager to be defeated, then I'll grant your wish!" Nidhogg sneered. "If you lose, you must serve me as my slave for ten years after I'm free!"

“In that case, I won’t take advantage of you. If I win in the end, you can be my servant for ten years, as you said. Is that alright?” Yanan said with a smile.

“Of course, no problem!” Nidhogg agreed readily, as if afraid that Yanan would change his mind.

Are you kidding me? In a betting game like this, she wouldn't even know how she lost!

How dare a mere mortal presume to kill a god?

This was truly the most outrageous joke Nidhogg had ever heard in his life.

Feeling confident of victory, she even began to imagine torturing Yanan in her mind.

When the time comes, she will make him pay for all the bitterness and grievances she has suffered over the years!

Although Anan and Nidhogg communicated with their minds for a long time, in the real world, it was only a moment.

"Lanmarok".

"The minister is here."

Lanmarok knelt on one knee, his spear placed aside, facing Yanan, his head slightly lowered.

Yanan said calmly, "Follow them secretly. If anyone is in mortal danger, rescue them. Understand?"

Although he predicted that there shouldn't be any major problems along the way, theory is still theory, and reality is often the most illogical thing.

Therefore, he planned to send Lanmarok to be in charge of protecting him secretly.

He originally intended to let Merlin take charge of this matter, but given that eccentric personality of Merlin, who knows what kind of trouble he might cause.

“Yes, I understand,” Lanmarok replied.

"Also, keep an eye on these guys." Yanan pointed out the knights who had been present earlier. Since he didn't know their names, he could only describe their features. "If these guys are also participating in the trial, find an opportunity to kill them."

Although these guys were well hidden, their intense malice was as conspicuous as a beacon in the dark when he possessed both the Mind Key Feather Crossing and the Corrosion Key Jizo Soul.

He didn't know where these guys came from, nor did he have any interest in finding out for himself.

Since these guys have ulterior motives, he naturally won't be lenient with them.

This is also a good opportunity to give a warning to those guys hiding in the back.

Only when they feel the pain will those guys realize that reaching too far will get them beaten up.

“Yes.” Lanmarok nodded again.

Yanan couldn't help but sigh, wishing that all his subordinates in the future would be like Lanmarok.

They are powerful, extremely loyal, and absolutely obedient to their orders, without even asking why.

There is simply no more perfect subordinate than this.

After a moment of contemplation, Yanan placed his hand on Lanmarok's head and, with the help of the power of Feather Dust, transferred all the gun skills he had learned from Scáthach over the past sixteen years into the latter's consciousness.

A hint of emotion appeared on Lanmarok's usually calm and composed face.

“Study these things carefully. I look forward to the day you can use them on the battlefield.” Yanan patted Lanmarok on the shoulder and said with a smile.

Lanmarok lowered his head deeply:

"Your will is my mission!"

Chapter 45 The Chosen Ones 1

The next day, the knights packed their bags and set off on the road that Anan had planned.

To Yanan's surprise, not a single one of the three hundred people chose to withdraw.

Even though he could sense that several people were having a strong desire to back out, he ended up going with them anyway.

Although he didn't know exactly what had happened, Yanan was still genuinely relieved.

"See that, Nidhogg? That's human resilience. Knowing the road ahead is difficult, yet still not giving up hope of overcoming it. Ah, I think I can already see the scales of victory tipping in my favor."

"Hmph! Stop talking nonsense. Even if they can finish this journey, they're still a long way from your goal. If you give up now, I might be a little gentler with you later."

"You've never beaten me before, and this time, the outcome won't change either."

"you!"

Boom boom boom!

A crisp knock came at the door, and Yanan automatically ignored Nidhogg's curses and went to open the door.

Standing outside the door was an elderly man dressed in a clergyman's robe. His face was etched with deep wrinkles, and although he looked very old, his eyes were still as clear as a child's.

“Archbishop of Cantreber?” Yanan raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Greetings, Your Majesty King Arthur." Cantreber placed his hand on his chest and bowed slightly to Anahn.

Anan responded to the archbishop with the same courtesy.

Although he himself wasn't particularly interested in religion, the old man before him was still worthy of respect.

The Church held an independent and transcendent position in Camelot. As the Archbishop, Cantreber could have indulged in unrestrained pleasures and lived a life of luxury, but he did not. Instead, he always adhered to the principle of poverty and minimized his material needs.

Few people know that this archbishop still lives in the same small house of less than ten square meters that he lived in when he first joined the church.

After King Euthy's death, this archbishop spent five years traveling throughout Camelot.

In every village and town he visited, he would lead the local residents in Mass and prayer, listen to their troubles, and alleviate their anxieties.

It was this old man's unwavering dedication over five years that enabled the people of Camelot to survive those most difficult years.

Everyone respected Cantreber greatly; in fact, one could say that the old man had become almost a pillar of support for Camelot.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have been chosen to conduct this grand ceremony for choosing a king.

Chapter 45 The Chosen Ones 2

"Your Excellency Archbishop, is there something you need from me?" Anahn asked curiously.

Cantreber nodded slightly: "I have come to bid you farewell, Your Majesty. The election ceremony is over, and I should return to Camelot."

Arnan nodded: "Would you like Sir Hector to send someone to escort you?"

“No need.” Cantreber shook his head, hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Your Majesty, you are probably planning to go to Camelot to receive your investiture ceremony, aren’t you?”

“Of course, the investiture ceremony is a rule established by the late king,” Anahn said with a smile.

Only after the coronation ceremony is over can he truly bear the name of Arthur and become the new king of Camelot.

“Actually, I shouldn’t be saying these things, since according to the rules set by the late king, the church is not allowed to interfere with royal power, but…” Cantreber hesitated for a moment as he looked at Anahn, “Your Majesty, you actually know that the person who should have pulled the sword out of the stone was not you.”

Yanan nodded with a smile.

Cantreber sighed and said with a wry smile, "Actually, I felt at the time that the plan was not perfect, but unfortunately, we didn't have many options at the time."

King Euthyder led his army to attack Vortigern, but suffered a crushing defeat, and Euthyder himself was seriously wounded in the battle.

Even when Merlin brought out the Fountain of Youth he had obtained from the Lady of the Lake, it only prolonged Uther's life force for a short while.

At that time, Artoria had just been born, and even with Merlin's assistance, it was simply not enough to support the country.

To buy Artoria time, King Uther betrothed his two daughters to King Gwent and King Dehebas of neighboring kingdoms, thus ensuring that Camelot would not be invaded by foreign enemies.

In order to stabilize the people's emotions and prevent internal strife, he and Merlin devised the [Chosen King] plan, which was also to pave the way for Artoria's succession to the throne in the future.

These plans were fraught with uncertainty, but for Uther, whose time was running out, it was the best, and the last, option he could make for the country.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Yanan sighed inwardly. “So, you’ve come here today to ask me to return the throne to Lily?”

"No, Your Majesty, you misunderstand. Rather, I am actually on your side." The guidance of the [Revelation] was still fresh in his mind, so Cantreber naturally would not question the legitimacy of Anan as king. "The key is that those in the palace who know the inside story will never acknowledge you."

Yanan raised an eyebrow; "Why is that?"

“Because you are not King Uther’s son!” Cantreber said solemnly.

"puff!"

The only one who could laugh out loud at a time like this was, of course, a certain Miss Black Dragon who loved watching the drama unfold.

Yanan's lips twitched slightly.

"To pull the sword from the stone and become king is a prophecy Merlin left more than a decade ago. Since they didn't object then, why are they questioning me now?"

“Your Majesty, please don’t play dumb with me,” Cantreber said with a wry smile. “We all know that the day of the election is just an excuse.”

Chapter 45 The Chosen Ones 3

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Chapter 46 The Growth Rate of Sidden

Early the next morning, Cantreber embarked on his journey back to Camelot.

Just as when he arrived, he did not disturb anyone; only Anahn, Kai, Artoria, and Ector saw him off.

As for that white-haired good-for-nothing, he's long since disappeared without a trace.