Please play Fate/Go with me.

As for the lower classes who barely survived in the cracks of constant warfare, the noble knights had long since given up. The able-bodied could still earn food by working hard, but the elderly, women, and children were always at risk of having their fields burned, their property looted, and being killed or starved to death in the war.

For these barbarian invaders, Britain was for a time like a self-producing wheat field and livestock pasture. When they were short of money and food, they would bring a large number of people to raid the area and return with a full load.

The knights could only cower in the city, watching helplessly as the knights harvested the grain and took away the livestock and horses.

But such good days soon passed, because King Arthur, who had drawn the sword of choice, appeared out of nowhere. After that, even when they joined forces with barbarians from all over the world and armies from other countries to besiege Britain, they were still repeatedly defeated and crushed by King Arthur and the knights he led.

In the eyes of their generation of tribesmen, King Arthur was as terrifying as an invincible war god.

The barbarian king pondered for a moment, then looked at the girl before him. More than a thousand years had passed, and she had changed into the light and airy clothes of the new era. She had lost the inhuman holiness she had displayed on the battlefield, but she was still majestic and awe-inspiring. Her taciturn and unsmiling demeanor on the battlefield was just as he remembered.

"But it's still not enough. This holy sword alone is not enough to defeat Vortigern. That monster cannot be eliminated with this level of skill!"

“Is that so? Then there’s no other way.” Artoria raised her holy sword and pointed it at the barbarian king, saying, “Let’s settle this once and for all! Send out your strongest warriors, and I will send out a knight as well. If we win, your entire race will be slaughtered. Choose between submitting to me!”

"Haaah, that's perfectly fine! We Anglo-Chinese do not shy away from any challenge! I will be your opponent!" the Barbarian King laughed.

“You dare to say that! Then I, Mordred of the Knights of the Round Table, will be your opponent! Hahaha!” Mordred raised his greatsword, laughing as he stepped forward.

Artoria turned to the boy and said, "Shirou, could I ask you to summon your pseudo-spirit origin to fight?"

"Hey? Father? Ignoring me? Let me go too!" Little Mo waved his hands and shouted loudly, feeling very discouraged.

"Yes, I know." Shirou nodded.

"Since you have three people, I'll send three of my own! Of course, challenging a hero comes at a price. If you lose, we'll kill you on the spot," the barbarian king said with a savage grin.

"Yes! Kill! Kill! Kill!" The barbarians welcomed the challenge and shouted loudly.

Hearing what the other person said, Artoria looked helplessly at the girl with sparkling eyes beside her and said, "There's really no other way. Lord Mordred, you can go first."

"Alright! Father! Watch me!" Little Mo raised his fist high and happily agreed!

The first to fight on the barbarian side was the barbarian king, who wielded two giant axes, stood nearly two meters tall, and had bulging muscles and veins. He also had two sons who were just as strong as him, both of whom possessed powerful combat strength at the Servant level.

"Roar!!!" The barbarian king let out a strange roar, raising two axes in his hands as he charged forward.

"Aaaaaah!!!" Mordred roared back defiantly, gripping the silver greatsword with both hands and slashing upwards.

The two axes clashed fiercely with the sword, flashing a crimson-gold spark.

Under the impact of their immense forces, the sword and the axe clashed together, locked in a contest of strength.

"As expected of the barbarian king who has clashed with King Arthur on the battlefield many times!"

"Hmph, rebellious knight. I thought the person who would end King Arthur after my death would be some kind of evil and terrifying figure, but I didn't expect it to be just a runaway little girl."

At this moment, the boy also began to prepare for possession and summoning, searching for the most suitable possibility for this battle.

“Shirou! The dragon Vortigern possesses the ability to devour light and is also the embodiment of the earth. Due to the enhancement of the black mud, it can even devour the world of the Reality Marble. Even if it can be damaged by the Holy Sword with reversed attributes, it cannot be killed. It was destined from the beginning that only one could deliver a fatal blow to the dragon,” Da Vinci said.

“The Holy Lance of the King of Knights, right?” Shirou said.

Leonardo da Vinci smiled approvingly and nodded.

The Demon Eye unfolds, reading data from the surrounding space. It locks onto only one enemy: the demon dragon Vortigern. It searches among countless worlds and different universes for the most suitable learning partner for this battle.

"The mighty axe that conquers all nations!!!"

The Barbarian King roared, activating his Noble Phantasm, which shimmered with blue, white, and red stripes and starlight. The two axes merged into a giant axe with star-striped patterns, a testament to the glory of the Anglo-Saxons, the most successful invading race in human history. They left Northern Europe, conquered Britain, absorbed the Christian culture brought by Rome, integrated into Europe, and became the British Empire. Later, they invaded the lands of the Native Americans and then seized the oil of Central Asia.

Considering the current state of human history, from the burning of the human race in 17 to the freezing of the human race in 18, with each year bringing an end to the past, they may be the last overlords in history.

The giant axe, symbolizing all of this, came crashing down.

"What!" Mordred swung his sword to block, but was sent flying by the impact.

At the critical moment, a golden light flashed and caught Mordred.

"Are you alright?" Shirou, having completed the possession summoning, caught Mordred as she flew backward and asked in a somewhat cold voice.

"Oh...it's nothing." Mordred then saw clearly Shirou's current state: he was wearing blue and silver armor, holding a golden spear, his hair had turned a similar gold color to hers, and his turquoise eyes shone with a faint light, radiating a godlike majesty.

This possession summoning was created as the physical body of the male King Arthur, a young boy who guards the tomb of King Arthur. Strangely, this possession summoning bypassed the unsealing of the sealing Mystic Code, and the spear has lost contact with Ad.

Little Mo, who had been held by the boy, was put down, but she remained staring blankly at Shirou for several seconds before finally reacting. She quickly turned away, lowered her head, and excitedly waved her clenched fists back and forth, thinking, 'This is terrible! Why?! I feel like Shirou looks incredibly handsome right now, second only to my father! What's going on?!'

"Xiao Mo? Hey~ Xiao Mo, Xiao Mo classmate, Mo Zai~?" Shirou looked at Xiao Mo, who seemed a bit strange, with a puzzled expression. He called her several times, but she didn't respond.

Xiao Mo cupped her burning face, her mind racing with thoughts: 'What should I do? I have absolutely no idea how to attract men. How does that woman have men fluttering around her like crazy?'

"The battle isn't over yet! If you don't want to fight, then die!" The barbarian king raised his double axes high and brought them down from above. The immense force of the blows seemed capable of cleaving a chasm in two.

"Drink!" A cold light flashed in Shirou's eyes as he raised the Holy Lance, which was radiating a spiraling golden light, and thrust it forward.

The double axes clashed with the spear tip, easily neutralizing the Barbarian King's attack.

"Hahaha! This really is the Holy Lance! The Holy Lance that killed the demon dragon Vortigern!" After landing, the Barbarian King carefully examined Shirou and then burst into a joyful laugh.

"Ooooooooooooo!!!" The barbarians were all overjoyed and shouted.

The Holy Lance from King Arthur's legend is a top-tier Noble Phantasm, on par with the Great Declaration of Victory. However, its brilliance is overshadowed by the glorious deeds of Excalibur, which runs throughout King Arthur's legendary life, and it remains relatively unknown.

However, it is also the most powerful Noble Phantasm. During King Arthur's battle against Vortigern, it was this holy spear that pierced the heart of the dragon. It could be said to be the strongest Noble Phantasm against the dragon.

Chapter 153 The King Conquers Another World

With flowing golden short hair and turquoise eyes that exuded an otherworldly majesty, as if emitting a faint glow, he wore silver armor adorned with blue patterns. The tall, handsome young man stood on the ground, and when illuminated by the light, he seemed to radiate light.

The most dazzling thing was the treasure in his hand, the holy spear with a golden spiral of light.

The boy in his current state is like both a holy king and a god who treats all things as straw dogs.

This time, the simulated spirit origin was chosen from the completed form of the chosen one of the Holy Lance. Due to the repeated use of the Holy Lance, it began to be transformed by the radiance within the Holy Lance, and its physical body and even its spirit began to change.

However, King Arthur's soul did not descend, so the emptiness in his heart was filled by the divinity permeating from the Holy Lance.

This is the future of the boy who bid farewell to Aard and his teacher, and now holds the Holy Lance to protect the world. He no longer needs the sealing Mystic Code to carry him around, and can now control it as freely as Artoria's Holy Sword.

At this moment, Shirou raised his holy spear, aimed it at the barbarian king, and assumed a battle stance ready to pierce him at any moment.

"Hahaha, I was just thinking that you Knights of the Round Table were missing a few shiny guys, and here they are!" Seeing the boy's posture, the Barbarian King put away his double axes and laughed loudly, seemingly having no intention of continuing the fight.

"Barbarian King, shall we fight or not?" Artoria asked, holding the black holy sword.

"Hahaha! We're done fighting. Since we have both the Holy Sword and the Holy Lance, we've already gathered the necessary artifacts to defeat Vortigern, so we have no reason to fight you anymore," the Barbarian King said.

"So how do you decide the outcome? Are you going to admit defeat and submit?" Artoria pressed. Before the battle, she was wary of organizational chaos and disunity. Even the symbolic hierarchy had to be clearly defined.

The Barbarian King raised his hands and shouted, "I know! We have lost! King Arthur! I, Sam the Barbarian, on behalf of the Anglo-Saxon race, swear to submit to your banner. Please lead us to defeat the dragon Vortigern!"

"Very well! I will allow you to follow behind me! To share in the glory of defeating the dragon." Artoria said with a wave of her hand, full of majesty.

"Ora ora ora!!!" The barbarians raised their hands and shouted in unison in celebration.

They had long suffered enough from the destruction caused by the dragons in this world. They left their homeland and came here in search of survival and land, seeking a better life. But now, they were forced to fight every day for meaningless things. Many of their brethren had been infected by the dragons' black mud and turned into manipulated monsters with no freedom, only knowing how to kill. Now, the time had finally come to end it all.

Artoria displayed the skill of a queen, immediately convening a meeting with the barbarian high command and successfully reaching a consensus and establishing an alliance. The barbarian king and his powerful warriors would jointly attack the demonic dragon, while his soldiers would hold off other magical beasts and soldiers controlled by the black mud, minimizing the amount of power the demonic dragon could absorb.

After some effort, the barbarians no longer just made a verbal agreement; they actually complied with Artoria's demands. Little Mordred's eyes lit up with anticipation.

"The decisive battle will take place at midnight tonight. At that time, obey my command and everyone launch an attack!" Artoria ordered.

"I understand, we will arrive at the battlefield on time," the barbarian king replied.

"Alright! I'm going to invite the other side's forces now. Goodbye." Artoria said, and walked briskly towards her car at the entrance of the barbarian camp.

"Xiao Mo, let's go." Shirou said, tugging at the girl who was still staring blankly at the stage.

"Oh..." Xiao Mo finally emerged from her reverie.

"Lord Mordred, get in the carriage! Don't make me say it twice," Artoria said.

"Oh...yes! Father." Little Mo obediently replied.

Then Shirou sat down at the very back.

When the car started, Xiao Mo realized a big problem.

The driver in front was the cool and handsome blonde girl, King Arthur, while sitting behind her was Shirou, who had somehow suddenly transformed into a super handsome blonde with blue eyes.

Caught in the middle, Xiao Mo's face flushed red, her mind in turmoil. "What should I do! What should I do? I'm surrounded by two such handsome men. Is today my lucky day?"

"What's wrong, Mo?" Shirou asked the girl in front of him, puzzled.

"Shirou! Don't come any closer to me with that gun!" Xiaomo cried out like a cat with its fur standing on end, thinking to herself, 'What's wrong with me? The Holy Lance is so close to me, my heart is pounding like crazy, I feel like I'm about to die!'

"Ah... I'm sorry." Shirou, remembering how Mordred died, quickly put away the Holy Lance. But my current state is indeed getting closer and closer to King Arthur from another world.

"Are you alright now, Mo?" Shirou released his hands, leaned forward, and whispered in the girl's ear.

"Whoa! Don't come any closer!" Xiao Mo jumped up as if she had been electrocuted, and the back of her head hit the boy's chin.

"...Xiao Mo...what's wrong with you?" Shirou asked, covering his face. Because his body had been enhanced, although he wasn't injured, he was in a lot of pain.

"...It's nothing..." Xiao Mo said, rubbing the back of her head and enduring the pain. However, the roots of her ears had turned red and the redness lingered for a long time.

"Or I should just deactivate this mode," Shirou said. Although each possession summon lasts for a period of time to adapt to the enhanced and altered body, in this state, Little Mor is completely unusable and cannot be used for combat. It would be better to deactivate it.

Shirou could understand that even if he possessed the body of King Arthur from another century, the Holy Lance he held was of the same concept, so it was only natural that Mordred would resist and dislike him.

In fact, Shirou himself had experienced being stabbed to death, and more than once.

So if you saw Cú Chulainn here, you would definitely be very unhappy. The incompatibility of personalities is one aspect, but the most important thing is that it is difficult for a person to smile at someone who has killed them.

"No! That's such a waste!" Xiao Mo shouted, grabbing the boy's sleeve.

"So what exactly do you want?" Shirou asked, puzzled.

"I don't know either!!" Xiao Mo got angry and shouted even louder.

Although he's always been a bit strange, Artoria and Shirou have gotten used to it to some extent. But he's become even stranger since the beginning, with one of them suddenly becoming very emotional.

"Is Xiao Mo feeling unwell? Has being summoned to this world really caused any side effects?" Shirou wondered worriedly, and reached out to touch Xiao Mo's forehead. It seemed that due to the influence of the Holy Lance's divinity, the boy not only had an otherworldly temperament, but also acted more directly and domineeringly.

"Don't touch me! You idiot! You moron! Waaaaaaah!!!" Xiao Mo's face turned red instantly, and she waved her arms and legs, about to fall off the car.

"You're the idiot! Don't move around! Do Servants get fevers too?" Shirou quickly hugged the girl to stop her from moving, reached out to feel Mordred's forehead, then touched his own forehead, and said strangely.

"Waaaaah!" Mo was hugged and had her forehead touched again. She let out a strange scream as if she had been electrocuted. Her body temperature continued to rise, and then she crashed. It seemed that because the constitution of Servants was different from that of humans, her head had begun to smoke from the high temperature.

Unable to listen any longer, Artoria slammed on the brakes, stopped the motorcycle, and turned to look coldly at the boy.

"Shirou, shut up! Cross your arms and sit still! Don't move!" Artoria said, enunciating each word clearly.

"Huh? My fault?" Shirou said, looking puzzled. He thought to himself, 'We were acting like brothers before, arms around each other's shoulders. This shouldn't be happening.'

However, under Artoria's intense gaze, he did as she asked.

Strangely, Mo was much calmer along the way, although she kept sticking her head out and tightly hugging Artoria's waist, refusing to get any closer to Shirou.

In the end, her relationship with Artoria seemed to have improved, but wouldn't that mean she would be the only one left out? Shirou's feelings were a little complicated.

So Artoria and the others headed towards the next camp. They could already see the stream. Following it, they would soon see the place where Shirou had dissected the venison yesterday. The camp was surrounded by wooden fences, and in the center was a large white tent, which was Perinoa's camp.

In this world, among the various rebellious forces in Britain, the knights who oppose the King of Knights, and the warlords, Perinoa is the most powerful in terms of both strength and influence.

This is true, at least assuming that Morgan le Fay, who fathered five Knights of the Round Table and whose magical skills were no less than Merlin's, and her husband, King 'Loth', are not present.

The steel behemoth roared, and before the guards in the camp could react, it had already rushed in, and the gust of wind it stirred up caused the flags on the camp to tilt inwards.

"Hmph, I thought it was someone else barging in so openly. Turns out it's just you two brats. You're lucky you're still alive. And you brought another brat along. What are you planning to do?" Perinoa glanced arrogantly at the newcomers, then raised his head without even looking them over and spoke sarcastically.

"Your Majesty! So you've come here too." Lanmarok recognized the newcomer at a glance and said with delight.

"King?" Perinoa looked at the girl standing in front of him in astonishment, his eyes wide as he roared angrily, "King Arthur! How do you feel now seeing your former allies, your former knights, the people you once killed?"

The girl greeted them casually, as if they were old friends she hadn't seen in a long time, saying, "Hmph! You're still as noisy as ever, Perinoa. Lord Lanmarok, long time no see."

Because Perinoa's voice was loud, the news quickly spread throughout the entire camp.

"King Arthur! That girl is King Arthur!"

"King Arthur has come here!"

"Do we have a chance to defeat that demonic dragon and end everything?!"

They had indeed been rebels in the past and clearly understood how terrifying King Arthur was as an enemy.

He also fought alongside King Arthur, witnessing the victory in twelve major battles over ten years, driving out the invading barbarians, and bringing peace to Britain—a king like a saint.

If you come into close contact with it, you might feel fear because you can't understand it, yet you are ruled by it.

From an outsider's perspective, King Arthur is primarily a respectable figure, a great man who achieved unparalleled feats. There's nothing more exhilarating than fighting alongside such a powerful person.

But Perinoa, as the leader, did not think so.