Chapter 95: Victory and Shock
*Rumble!*
The massive city gates slowly swung open, and Arkhan led the knights as they walked inside.
""We greet Your Majesty!""
Benedict and the rest knelt on one knee, their heads slightly bowed, showing deep respect.
Countless residents of Lucanmont stood in the distance, curiously watching the scene.
"You may rise." Arkhan glanced around and said nonchalantly.
""Yes, Your Majesty!""
Everyone stood up, exchanging glances with each other.
Benedict stepped forward and cautiously asked, "Your Majesty, may we inquire about the outcome of this war?"
"I personally led the charge, how could we not have been victorious?"
A faint smile crossed Arkhan's face, and his voice suddenly rose, echoing throughout Lucanmont.
"In the War of the Great Plains, I led my three hundred elite knights, decisively defeated Ganna's twenty thousand soldiers, killed four thousand, and not a single casualty. We achieved an overwhelming victory!"
Defeating twenty thousand, killing four thousand, suffering no casualties, and achieving an overwhelming victory!
As the resonant words filled their ears, the eagerly awaiting residents of Lucanmont erupted with jubilation!
""OOOHHHHHH—!!!""
===
In the study of the duke's residence, Benedict, Kay, Lancelot, and Bedivere stood in a row in front of the desk. Arkhan, clad in his silver armor, sat in a chair behind the desk, gently sipping a cup of red tea.
Artoria and Lamorak, standing like bodyguards, flanked him on either side, their expressions solemn.
Guinevere had retired to her room early due to exhaustion.
"Your Majesty, Ganna only has a total of one hundred thousand people. Where did they find these twenty thousand soldiers? Did other countries lend them their troops?"
Bedivere was the first to voice the question that had been troubling him since earlier.
"Ganna indeed does not have twenty thousand soldiers, but if we include all the enemies we encountered this time, it's not entirely wrong to say it's around twenty thousand." Arkhan set down his teacup and smiled.
Bedivere and the others exchanged puzzled glances, not fully grasping Arkhan's meaning.
"Sir Lamorak, please explain in detail the events of the war."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Lamorak stepped forward and described the process of the war in detail.
As they heard how Lamorak led three hundred knights to scatter Ganna's eight thousand troops with just two charges, they all took in sharp breaths, their faces filled with profound amazement.
Although they knew this knight order was strong, they had never imagined it could be this powerful.
Three hundred warriors charging down eight thousand, the sheer image sent shivers down their spines.
Even more astonishing was the fact that they had succeeded.
Three hundred against eight thousand, ruthlessly slaughtering their foes. Even the most audacious bards wouldn't dare to weave such an incredible tale.
All of them couldn't help but marvel in their hearts; this was indeed a knight order the new king had personally recognized.
Benedict even began to envision that after this war, the fame of this knight order would spread throughout all of Britain. He felt a strong sense of fortune; his initial decision to align himself closely with the new king was undoubtedly the right one.
Lamorak then recounted what had happened next, and the expressions of the listeners gradually shifted from excitement to bewilderment, and eventually to utter confusion.
"Chimeras, Dead Apostles, Crimson Moon..." Kay scratched his head. "Sir Lamorak, are you sure you're not telling us myths and legends you've heard somewhere?"
The other three nodded in agreement.
Though they all knew Lamorak wasn't one to spin tall tales, what he was saying sounded too unbelievable.
Those scenes were clearly something straight out of myth and legend!
Suddenly, they all felt an intense sense of impending danger. An invisible surge of energy swept through the room, causing their faces to burn with a fiery pain.
Lancelot instinctively drew his sword, Arondight, holding it horizontally in front of him. Fairy letters on the blade emitted a faint watery glow, and his pale purple eyes gleamed with intense vigilance.
He had never felt such a terrifying and sharp force, as if anything standing in its path would be mercilessly torn apart!
The group's gaze then turned to Arkhan, who had an arm that seemed to be crafted from silver material, appearing in his hand without warning.
"Nuada, the God King of the Tuatha De Danann."
Arkhan looked at Kay, Benedict, and Bedivere, his tone calm.
"The possessor of the silver arm—Airgetlam, with the power to 'tear asunder all'. You must have heard of the legends surrounding this weapon with your knowledge, I presume."
*Gulp!*
The three of them simultaneously swallowed hard, exchanged glances, and saw profound astonishment in each other's eyes.
"Also, this is..."
Arkhan casually extended his hand, and a golden sword emerged from the void, exuding a mysterious and ancient aura, causing the surrounding space to twist eerily.
"The Golden Sword of Light and Victory, Claiomh Solais. You're not strangers to this either."
*Thud!*
Kay and Benedict plopped down on the ground, dumbfounded, while even the usually composed Bedivere had vacant eyes and a dazed expression.
Artoria sighed quietly to herself; she had anticipated this scene well in advance.
Lancelot blinked in confusion, wondering if their reactions were necessary.
'Their shock tolerance is really low.' Arkhan shook his head slightly and snapped his fingers.
The psychic power of Fenghuang Down spread out, and Kay, Bedivere, and Benedict shivered, instantly regaining their composure.
"Duke and Bedivere overreacted, which is understandable, but Kay, you've been to Avalon at least. Why did you act so embarrassingly?" Arkhan remarked.
Kay couldn't help but give a wry smile.
Could these two happenings even be compared? In terms of fame alone, Avalon and Nuada were worlds apart!
And they had only gone to Avalon to retrieve Excalibur for Artoria. Yet, on this side, Arkhan had directly dealt with the King of the Tuatha De Danann and taken his weapons!
If this were to get out, the entire British Isles would be in an uproar!
Who was Nuada? He was the God of War in the Irish mythologies, the King of the Gods! As long as anyone living in Britain, who hadn't heard of Nuada's legendary feats?
Back when the pioneers who established chivalry heard of Nuada's exploits and were inspired by them, they set out on the path of knighthood to become as powerful as the God King. That's why they walked the path of knighthood!
Thus, Nuada had always held a lofty position in the hearts of every British knight and was considered their spiritual pillar.
The same was true for Kay.
However, that pillar had completely crumbled at the hands of his teacher!
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