Miss Heber is fighting her way out of the Lostbelt!

She wasn't mocking anyone, but felt relieved from the bottom of her heart.

——This Lostbelt is finally about to be conquered.

Words that only Heber could see emerged one by one.

"The Red Dragon and the Lionheart have arrived at the gates of the city. They are on their own paths, like the sun on the chariot."

As the court mage, the wise man who aids Arthur in his quest, you can support anyone to sit on the throne. This will complete the final step in your quest.

"Morgan, the 'Enchantress', will not be driven by love but by jealousy, but by desire, which will lead to Albion's destruction. The origin of all this will not be desire, but curiosity. The end result today will not be curiosity, but love after all."

[As the object of Morgan's hatred and admiration, you can choose to help her complete her revenge on Arthur and destroy Albion in war. You can also complete your own achievements by doing this.]

Two options, two historical directions. The former is probably more in line with the development of real history, while the latter is more wild. Both of them can lead to the end of the Lostbelt.

Heber snapped his fingers.

"desktop."

The dark green tabletop floated up silently, and a somewhat illusory, translucent card glowed slightly.

This is Heber's "personal information" in this anomalous zone, and it can be viewed at any time.

[Heber Stanton/Merlin Ambrosius]

[Path: Sage (Loudbelt Only). The Sage is the king's advisor, the kingdom's tower, and the mirror of wisdom.]

[Principle: Light (Lootbelt-only). Represents the principles of reason, light, and ascent.]

[Rank: Dusk (Lootbelt-only). The third level of the Path of Ascension, just one step away from Ascension.]

[Final Achievement: Utopia Avalon (Unfinished)]

Heber reached out and erased all the floating words.

Neither of these two endings was what she wanted. She wouldn't actually die in the process of conquering the Lostbelt anyway, so why not do it more thoroughly?

In the empty courtyard, the court mage could no longer suppress his smile.

"I don't choose either of these two outcomes." The moment he said this, Heber felt his heart pounding. "I only walk my own true path."

Then, following Heber's will, the floating words dissipated like water waves, and new words emerged rapidly.

"King Arthur's flame has faded, her kingship has weakened, and her achievements are on the verge of collapse. But there is still hope. The court wizard once promised her that all will be well, and everything will be in order -"

[You will single-handedly defeat the two kings and the demon concubine Morgan.]

[This will allow Arthur's kingship to rule over all of Albion again, thus marking the end of this Lostbelt.]

Volume 3: One Against Ten Thousand

It was another morning, and the chilly north wind blew in from the battlefield outside London, carrying with it the smell of blood, earth, and metal.

The red dragon and lion flags were clearly separated, occupying both sides of an obsidian tower.

No matter which side the soldiers were from, when they passed by the tall tower pointing to the sky, they could not help but hold their breath and remain silent, staring at it in awe.

After all, they had seen it with their own eyes—the veiled woman came slowly, and even the two kings, who were so noble, were only serving as her attendants.

She casually tapped the ground, and the tower rose up in full view of everyone.

Later, rumors began to spread among the army: the veiled woman was none other than Morgan, the enchantress who had nearly destroyed Albion, and had quietly escaped from the Tower of London to seek revenge on Arthur and Merlin for the second time.

Neither Edward the Red Dragon nor Alistair the Lionheart denied the rumor.

As the tower rose from the ground, the temperature here dropped day by day. The sky was as gloomy as ice, the north wind swirled and howled endlessly, and white frost formed on weapons and dead grass.

All signs indicate that the demon concubine Morgan is ready to take revenge for her grudges.

But today, a sudden fear began to spread among the army.

A knight of the Round Table under the command of Edward, the Red Dragon, died suddenly in his own tent.

When he was found, he was lying quietly on the camp bed, looking like he was sleeping soundly, but his two eyeballs had been dug out by him and thrown on the ground.

This Knight of the Round Table inherited the name "Gawain".

With the sudden death of the brave modern-day Gawain, fear quickly spread among the army, and the blame was vaguely put on Morgan.

Edward, the Red Dragon Prince, quickly punished the rumormongers and strengthened night patrols.

That night, nothing unusual happened in the Red Dragon Army.

However, when the sun rose the next day, the Knights of the Round Table in the Lion Army died suddenly.

The contemporary "Lancelot", "Agavin" and "Tristan".

They were also found dead on their camp beds, each one more miserable than the last.

The seats at the Round Table are not always full. After four Knights of the Round Table died suddenly one after another, the surviving Knights of the Round Table began to consider retreating. They were not afraid of dying honorably on the battlefield, but they were unwilling to die in disgrace.

The Knights of the Round Table are the core of the entire army. When they waver, the entire army structure is in turmoil.

The Red Dragon King was unable to curb this tendency. After a violent quarrel, the two Knights of the Round Table left with their followers.

They planned to retreat and camp at a safe distance.

The two Knights of the Round Table were "Ector" and "Lanmarok". They thought they could be safe as long as they stayed away from the battlefield and the witch's tower. However, when night fell and the army started to eat, the cook screamed in fear.

When the junior officers came to check, the color drained from their faces.

What is stewing in the cauldron are the heads of the modern-day "Eckert" and "Lanmarok".

Their facial features had long been eroded by being soaked in boiling water, but the knights' medals of the Round Table proved their identity.

The successive fears completely seized the minds of the soldiers and officers, and the camp roar broke out. The night was still long, and the killing tonight was destined not to end so easily.

......

Heber used Gareth's lance to pin her to the doorpost of the barracks.

The Knight of the Round Table curled his hands weakly, trying to pull the spear out of his chest, but in the end it just fell down powerlessly, leaving only his bulging eyes staring at the ground.

At this point, the current nine Knights of the Round Table were killed one by one by Heber.

It will take at least twenty years for the next generation of Knights of the Round Table to grow up. It is conceivable that all seats on the Round Table will be vacant during this period of time.

"Compared to your ancestors, you're truly worthless." Heber calmly walked out of the barracks. "But you're also true. You're just 'politicians' who rely on vying for power and inheriting seats. You're neither true to your own desires nor able to follow the path of your ancestors."

All the former Knights of the Round Table, without exception, have made outstanding achievements of their own and have all climbed to the second level on the road of sublimation - [Daytime].

Their tempered wills reforged their weapons and armor, and even after hundreds of years of glorious achievements, these relics have great power.

Even if these subsequent Knights of the Round Table were merely mortals who could barely reach the first level of [Enlightenment], after they were fully armed, they could briefly regain the might of the [Daylight] level and become powerful killing gods on the battlefield.

Therefore, in the epics and anecdotes of the world, daytime is also called the "hero" level.

They are the prototypes of the "heroic spirits" sung by bards.

However, Heber plays the court sage Merlin, who is a third-rank [Twilight].

Each of these "Twilights" has existed in the world for at least two hundred years. They are living legends, even myths.

——Son of God, angel on earth, saint, devil, banished immortal, dragon... These legendary titles can be used to refer to the existence of the "Twilight" level.

Their achievements enable them to easily accomplish miracles that are unimaginable for ordinary people.

Even though Heber's achievements tended towards transformation, assistance, and protection, and did not have any ability to cause large-scale destruction, they were still enough to easily destroy an entire army in the fear of dreams and illusions.

Having broken the mortal's mind with fear, a single swing of the blade is enough to take their life.

It's just a bit more complicated.

Heber didn't feel disgusted or timid. When she was conquering the Lostbelt, she always maintained an objective and detached perspective. She experienced this feeling firsthand, but she could always withdraw from it.

If necessary, even if I have to sacrifice my life, what does it matter? As long as I can conquer this Lostbelt, it will be enough.

"Okay, all the Knights of the Round Table who could have been a factor are dead. Now it's your turn..."

Frightened soldiers and junior officers ran past Hebe, splashing mud that even touched the hem of her robe, but they ignored Hebe as if she was just a reflection in a mirror or a phantom moon in the water.

——[First Mark: Illusion].

The foundation of karma is the holy mark called the mark.

This is Hebe's earliest mark and the talent she has for playing Merlin.

The blood of nightmares naturally flows in this body.

Nightmares are not real creatures, they live in the "wasteland" - a dream world that is located above reality and can only be reached through dreaming.

The semi-illusory pansy sprouted from Hebe's slender feet, and then quickly occupied the entire battlefield. Both the red dragon and the lion were trapped in the quagmire of illusion without knowing it.

——When did you get the illusion that I wasn't using any magic?

She clapped her hands softly.

Snapped.

Then, in an instant, all those caught in the illusion felt their minds leaving their bodies and then becoming entangled together, making it difficult to distinguish between each other, inside and outside.

One by one they collapsed into the dirt—not dead, but unable to wake up either.

ps: New book period, please collect and read

Volume 4: Morgan Le Fay

The lens used to observe the celestial phenomena was shattered, and the candlelight in the military tent flickered and dimmed.

The center of the bonfire was an ominous black, and the smoke drifted and hung like a curtain.

Armor and weapons fell into the mud, warm bodies fell and piled up, and in an instant the battlefield fell into deathly silence, with only the flags fluttering in the north wind.

A vision of this magnitude could no longer be ignored.

However, faced with a domino-like trend, even heroes can only protect themselves and cannot reverse the inevitable defeat.

"What... happened?" Prince Edward roared in disbelief. He drew his sword and waved it wildly. "Who is it? Who is it?"

The young duke who called himself the Red Dragon roared, his mind burning with blind rage.

On the other side, Alistair had a gloomy face. He was older and more experienced than Edward, so what occupied his chest was not anger, but fear.

Their army has always been invincible. Nobles surrendered wherever they went, and even the Knights of the Round Table chose to pledge allegiance to them.

This almost gave the two kings a sense of confidence - Arthur was no better than them.

Especially when Morgan took the initiative to invest, their pride reached its peak.

However, this confidence turned to fear when their army was destroyed in incomprehensible ways.

Because they knew clearly that it was impossible for the heroes of "Daytime" to achieve such results.

"dusk......"

The north wind howled, and Prince Edward's anger suddenly died down.

He gritted his teeth, "What a despicable, despicable, and shameless tactic! Don't you have any pride in being 'Dusk'?!"

pat, pat.

In the center of the battlefield where tens of thousands of people were lying, footsteps suddenly sounded.

The [illusion] was lifted, and Heber's figure appeared.

Prince Edward's words were stuck in his chest, and a look of surprise and amusement appeared on his face.

——How could it be such a girl, younger than my daughter?

Just by herself, she was able to destroy the army that he was so proud of? !

However, in sharp contrast to Prince Edward, Alistair II had been pale since he saw Hebe.

"Put aside your meaningless thoughts... Do you know who she is?" Alistair whispered, "How dare you underestimate Merlin!"

"What about Merlin—you say, Merlin?"

Prince Edward's breathing stopped, and his face showed anger, shame, and more of disbelief.

Thousands of emotions finally converge into one resentful sentence.

"Why is she still alive?!"

But Hebe just walked towards them calmly, holding a sword she picked up from the ground.