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IBHJ Chapter 136
🕑 Added 2023-03-05 23:00:23 +0000 UTCLamorak, a Knight of the Round Table, earned a reputation as the Lion of Britain alongside renowned warriors Lancelot and Tristan. His exceptional skill with the spear was unmatched throughout the land. Prior to Lancelot's induction into the Round Table, Lamorak was widely regarded as the greatest fighter among them all.
As Lamorak took to the battlefield with his long spear, the imposing aura radiating from his armor left all those around him breathless.
In the Age of Gods, people possessed naturally strong physiques, and Lamorak was among the most formidable. Even Artoria couldn't help but be awed by his presence, feeling somewhat restrained as she asked, "May I ask who you are, sir?"
"I am but a knight of no consequence, Lamorak."
"So, you are that famous knight," she said in surprise, her expression becoming more serious as she asked, "Aren't you going to ride your horse?"
She posed this question to Lamorak because he was famed for his prowess with the spear, particularly when mounted on horseback.
"No need. Your swordsmanship is undoubtedly impressive, but on horseback, it becomes impractical. Spear techniques, on the other hand, are effective both on foot and mounted. If I were to fight you while mounted, it would be a disgrace to my honor," Lamorak stated, expressing clear admiration for Artoria's last attack. He spoke with a tone of respect, acknowledging her skill and placing her on equal footing with himself. "If I am defeated on foot, I will accept the outcome without protest. You have my word."
"I have no objections. If that is your preference, then so be it."
They took their positions within the circle.
The soldiers surrounding them fell silent, holding their breath as they watched the scene unfold. One was the celebrated Knight Princess, while the other was the renowned knight, Lamorak, who was widely acknowledged as the unparalleled master of spear techniques in all of Britain. The clash between these two formidable opponents promised to be an epic spectacle, and for knights of the medieval era who revered combat and strength, it was the ultimate attraction.
As humanity progressed from barbarism to civilization, there were several transformations in what people worshiped. In the barbaric period, people worshiped strength and nature, while in the feudal era, they worshiped power and religion. In modern times, people worship science and wealth.
The times are constantly evolving, and the economic foundation and cultural progress of each era determine what people in that era will worship. However, during fifth century Britain, which was still in the Age of Gods, the focus of worship was not on money and power, but on strength.
The soldiers in the arena looked on nervously, and even Tristan, who was typically melancholic, set aside his harp and approached the edge of the circle to witness the fight.
Artoria and Lamorak faced each other, their bodies poised in anticipation as they gathered momentum for their upcoming clash. The sensation of momentum was difficult to put into words, but it was an all-encompassing feeling of intense focus. Their muscles were tensed, and a natural sense of awe enveloped them, heightening their awareness of the impending confrontation.
Artoria, however, was still immature in this regard. Her momentum was subdued by Lamorak, and so she had to seize the initiative by unleashing a sword strike with a thunderous wind pressure, aimed at Lamorak.
He deflected her sword strike with his spear, resulting in a resounding metallic clash.
"Clang!"
He took a single step backward, while Artoria, pushed by the force of the impact, staggered two steps backwards.
She furrowed her delicate eyebrows and firmly gripped the hilt of her sword, taking a quick step forward to assail Lamorak. The blade in her hand appeared to shatter into numerous fragments, moving too quickly for the naked eye to follow, leaving onlookers awestruck.
However, as the most accomplished fighter in the Round Table after Lancelot, Lamorak lived up to his reputation. He expertly wielded his spear, moving gracefully like a hundred blooming flowers, and parried all of Artoria's attacks.
"Clang-clang-clang!"
The clash of metal was reminiscent of a weighty orchestral movement, creating a tense and exhilarating atmosphere.
Suddenly, Artoria sensed danger and instinctively turned her head, only to see a shadowy spear breaking through her sword defense and hurtling towards her like a venomous snake. With a sharp "swish" sound, it sliced off a few strands of her golden hair.
She quickly stepped back and readied herself again, realizing that she was being outmatched by Lamorak.
Shirou cast a quick glance towards the arena before turning to Gawain and asking, "Gawain, who do you think is stronger between you and Sir Lamorak?"
"It's difficult to determine. I've never had the chance to spar with Sir Lamorak myself. But if I had my Sun Blessing, I likely wouldn't be defeated by him," Gawain mused for a moment before adding, "When it comes to spear techniques, I suspect that aside from his father, there is no one who can match his prowess."
"Is he really that strong?" Shirou stroked his chin.
"Yes. Ten years ago, Vortigern defeated King Uther and led the Saxons to assault Camelot. However, his forces were halted by the northern kings, and he was defeated by Sir Brastias and King Pellinore," Gawain explained. "If Sir Brastias and Sir Ector are considered the most skilled swordsman in Camelot, then Lamorak, who inherited King Pellinore's spear mastery, is surely the most proficient in that regard."
"I see..." Shirou nodded, before posing another question. "But shouldn't Merlin be the strongest in swordsmanship?"
Gawain chuckled. "Arthur, you jest. Merlin is a magus; what does he know about swordsmanship?"
Shirou laughed too.
But no.
That guy really knows swordsmanship!
And he's incredibly strong too!
As they spoke, Artoria and Lamorak launched into another round of combat within the circle.
"Clang, clang, clang!"
The resounding echoes of metal colliding filled the air ceaselessly.
It must be acknowledged that Lamorak was truly one of the most skilled knights of the future Round Table. In combat, he proved to be an equal match for Artoria, and in terms of technique, he even held a slight advantage over her.
His mastery of the spear certainly explained why he was regarded as one of the three greatest warriors in Britain, alongside Lancelot and Tristan. Unfortunately, he had a problem with this particular opponent.
Although Lancelot was widely recognized as the greatest knight among the twelve of the Round Table, there was actually one knight who stood above him: the founder of the Round Table and the king they served. Indeed, the thirteenth member of the Round Table was none other than the leader of the knights - King Arthur, Artoria Pendragon!
Although she was only an apprentice knight, the Factor of the Red Dragon had granted her the potential for a reversal. As she fought, a layer of magical energy began to enshroud her body. There was no doubt that this was the manifestation of Mana Burst!
"Yaaaahh!!!" she unconsciously unleashed the magical energy within her, causing her entire body to be engulfed in a terrifyingly powerful aura.
The red dragon's heart, like a large magical furnace, filled her body with magical energy. This was why she could compete with strong and powerful knights despite being a woman. And now, during her battle with Lamorak, she had unconsciously released her vast amount of magical energy.
With a sudden surge of magical energy coursing through her veins, Artoria's physical abilities were amplified to extraordinary levels. Her strength, agility, and endurance all increased dramatically, allowing her to parry Lamorak's spear with effortless grace. Locking eyes with her opponent, she swung her sword once more, imbuing it with a fearsome amount of magical energy before unleashing it towards him with lightning-fast speed.
The force behind her sword was overwhelming, and her formidable aura was simply terrifying. In fact, Lamorak even saw a colossal dragon roaring at him in that very moment.
He suddenly recalled a scene from ten years ago: the battle between his father and Vortigern. His father, a master of the spear, had effortlessly suppressed Vortigern with his skill, and could have ended him in an instant. However, a white dragon had appeared on Vortigern's body, causing him to crush King Pellinore. If it hadn't been for the intervention of the injured King Uther, Lamorak's father may not have survived that battle.
He would never forget that moment.
The battle between Uther and Vortigern had been like something out of a myth, with their fiery breath and the shadow of a dragon tearing apart the battlefield like a spider's web, shattering mountains in their wake. It was a truly epic battle.
Lamorak realized that he was now about to face the same deadly blow that his father had faced all those years ago. His heart tightened in fear for a moment, but he gritted his teeth and struggled to overcome it, raising his spear to face his opponent head on.
To Lamorak's surprise, the anticipated intense impact never occurred.
This was because Artoria's sword, unable to withstand the tremendous magical energy it contained, shattered just before she could strike him.
"Crack-crack-crunch~"
She withdrew her magical energy and looked at the hilt of her shattered sword in disbelief. Lamorak was equally stunned, as were all the onlookers. The battle had come to an unexpected end, leaving everyone unsure of how to determine the winner or loser.
"I... I lost," she said with a heavy heart.
She had lost her sword, so it was only natural that she had lost the battle.
"No," Lamorak shook his head and replied, "I lost. I wouldn't have been able to withstand that strike."
He was a knight who pursued fair and honorable victories. Anything less than that would be an insult to him. Glancing around, he spoke with a solemn tone, "I am no match for this knight. I concede that Arthur should lead."
The knights from the other kingdoms whispered among themselves. If even the mighty Lamorak had admitted defeat, what chance did they have of winning? In the end, all eyes turned to Tristan.
Tristan remained outside the arena and addressed Shirou, saying, "Your Excellency Arthur, I do not believe myself to be a match for Sir Lamorak, so I see no need to compete. However, I believe that Sir Gawain is better suited to lead this expedition than you."
"Huh? Me?" Gawain pointed to himself in surprise, then quickly waved his hand and responded, "If Arthur is present, then let Arthur lead!"
Tristan turned to Gawain and explained, "Sir Gawain has brought the largest number of soldiers, five thousand in total. This makes you, Sir Gawain, the most suitable candidate to lead this expedition."
The other knights nodded in agreement. With a total of only three thousand five hundred soldiers between them and Bedivere, Gawain's five thousand troops made him the clear choice for leadership.
Despite Gawain's supposed army of five thousand soldiers, none of them had been seen. The reason for this was that they were stationed in the forest, and their movements had gone unnoticed. Nevertheless, news of their presence had still managed to spread. When Shirou had first arrived at Caerleon Castle, his conversation with Gawain had been so loud that everyone in the vicinity had overheard that Gawain had brought five thousand soldiers.
Gawain looked embarrassed and was about to explain when Shirou interjected, "I misunderstood. Sir Gawain came to celebrate my coronation on a personal level and did not bring his soldiers."
"What?" some of the knights exclaimed in surprise.
"Is that really the case?" others asked, confused.
"So there are no five thousand soldiers?" a few questioned, clearly disappointed.
The knights were taken aback by this revelation, particularly those who had come with ulterior motives. They were so bewildered that it felt like they had been punched in the gut. Their king had ordered them to bring troops here, not just to respond to the Archbishop's call, but more importantly, to go after Shirou!
Initially, these knights had planned to pursue Shirou, but upon hearing that Gawain had brought five thousand soldiers to support him, they became so scared that they backed down.
And now they're being told that... that it was all fake?
Tristan furrowed his brow and turned to Gawain, questioning him, "Sir Gawain, did you truly not bring five thousand soldiers?"
Gawain nodded awkwardly, but then quickly gestured towards Shirou and stated, "Nevertheless, His Excellency Arthur has brought three thousand five hundred soldiers, and Sir Bedivere has brought another one thousand five hundred. Together, we have a total of five thousand soldiers."
"What!?" The knights were shocked by Gawain's statement, but also puzzled. They had heard that Arthur hadn't brought any soldiers with him, so where had these troops come from?
Tristan turned towards Shirou and asked, "Your Excellency Arthur, if I may ask, where are your three thousand five hundred soldiers?"
Before Shirou could reply, Bedivere interjected and explained, "The soldiers who have accompanied Your Excellency Arthur are stationed in the forest."
Artoria lowered her head and took a step back towards the edge of the arena. She knew from start to finish that this was all a scam, but she also knew that she couldn't lie. So, she chose to remain silent, not wanting to speak up and cause any trouble for Shirou.
"They are all warriors who have followed me during my travels," Shirou said with a smile. "However, only a small portion of them are currently stationed in the forest."
'What!?' Bedivere was stunned, thinking, 'Didn't His Excellency Arthur just say that all 3,500 soldiers were stationed in the forest?'
Before Bedivere could ask any further questions, Shirou anticipated his confusion and explained, "Due to the destruction of the mountain pass by a giant, it has become difficult for large forces to advance. Therefore, only a small unit was left to clear the mountain pass, while the majority of my troops are currently stationed in the nearby town."
Bedivere quickly grasped the situation, "Ah, I understand now."
Artoria felt her face flush with embarrassment and lowered her head even further, hoping that no one would notice. She knew that Shirou was lying - they didn't have 3,500 soldiers, nor did they have a small unit clearing the mountain pass.
"I understand," the knights murmured amongst themselves. They exchanged glances, and those who had ulterior motives were forced to temporarily restrain their thoughts.
It became clear to the knights that their forces were outnumbered, with only 2.000 soldiers in total, including those who had simply joined out of curiosity. In contrast, the other side had 5.000 soldiers. The numerical disadvantage was too significant to ignore!
Tristan nodded and turned towards Shirou, stating, "In that case, I have no objections to Arthur being the leader."
Lamorak also spoke up, agreeing with Tristan by stating, "I have no objections either."
The leaders of the other kingdoms also nodded in agreement, indicating their approval.
Shirou stood proudly on the platform and declared, "Everyone, I am pleased to announce that this joint army will be led by me, Arthur!"
In response, the assembled knights began to cheer and chant his name, "Arthur! Arthur!"
The soldiers of Camelot began chanting Arthur's name, and the enthusiasm was contagious, spreading to some of the soldiers from other kingdoms as well.
Shirou smiled as he watched the soldiers. He was aware that those who harbored ill intentions towards him might have temporarily backed down, but he also knew that they would likely verify in private whether he truly had 3.500 soldiers.
But that didn't matter. At the very least, he had bought himself some time.
At this point, Shirou realized that his focus should not be on concealing the absence of the 3.500 soldiers, but on how to absorb the 2.000 soldiers into his army.
Since Camelot already had 1.500 soldiers, if he could successfully absorb the additional 2.000 soldiers, their total number of soldiers would reach 3.500.
Shirou stroked his chin, and he suddenly realized that he had picked up the habit from Iskandar.
