Chapter 75: Pictland-3-

The elite soldiers of North Wales led by Caenis were unstoppable.

The resistance in the independent region called Asol was child's play compared to the momentum of the Fotla campaign, and in less than half a day they had pacified the area with ease, throwing the bloodied heads of the chieftains at Arthur's feet.

As soon as the reorganization of the administrative system was more or less complete, Arthur sounded the trumpet for the northward advance without a moment's delay.

Standing before the operations map, Arthur gave his orders in a firm voice.

"The next target is the Kingdom of Fidach, the land of primeval forests. But look at the map. Fidach's territory borders the southern part of Dál Riata, the Gaelic state on the northwestern coast."

Arthur split the boundary line between the two nations with his baton.

"This time, we divide the army in two. We strike Fidach and Dál Riata at the same time and push the speed of the northern campaign to its limit."

He turned his gaze to Artoria standing beside him.

"Artoria, you take one front. I'll assign you Nogales's main elite force, along with Caenis, Penthesilea, Britomart, and Talos. I'll send Merlin with you as well, so make sure you cut off Dál Riata's last breath."

"Understood, Brother!"

Artoria nodded readily, radiating the bearing of the Knight King. Behind her, Penthesilea and Caenis also struck their weapons together with blood-stirring smiles.

"Then you will be attacking Fidach yourself, Brother?"

Arthur gave a short nod at Artoria's question.

"Yeah. I'll advance on Fidach with Barghest, Ushiwakamaru, Medea, Stheno, Nobunaga, my sister, and the Pictish army from Fotla."

A strategy of immediately putting the surrendered Picts in the vanguard to attack the next enemy.

It was efficiency taken to the extreme, but at the same time it was something that demanded overwhelming charisma to control. Though Artoria approved of the plan, she looked down at the cradle with worried eyes.

"Um... then what about Mordred? Even if this is the middle of a battlefield, wouldn't it be better if I, as her mother, kept her with me whenever possible?"

"No, I'll take Mordred with me, if only because of feeding her."

Arthur reached out and lifted Mordred from the cradle.

"You are breastfeeding her, but Mordred also needs soft food now. Besides, keeping her by my side makes her safest in all of Britain."

"Mm..."

Artoria could not easily pull her hand away from the cradle, reluctant to let go. Ever since Mordred was born, her maternal affection and doting-parent tendencies had grown so strong that it was hard to say whether she or Arthur was worse.

"Hey now, don't be stubborn. It's time for Mordred to start weaning food anyway. We'll finish quickly and regroup, so don't get hurt and just go cut off the enemy commander's head cleanly."

"All right... Mordred, Mommy's going now, so listen to Daddy and be good."

When Artoria left a kiss on Mordred's little cheek and turned away, Arthur snorted and shook his head.

"And she calls me the one who's crazy about our daughter."

Thus the advance split into two branches.

Arthur began marching north toward the primeval forests of Fidach, leading not his own elite troops, but only the two thousand Pictish soldiers who had surrendered in Fotla.

Contrary to all concerns, the Picts' marching speed was astonishing.

Thanks to beastlike physical abilities that were barely constrained by terrain, they crossed mountain country in half a day that would have taken Britain's regular army several days.

Only Servants could normally keep up with Arthur's mobility, yet the Picts managed it. In a sense, they were the ideal soldiers Arthur had wanted.

Even more interesting was the attitude the Picts showed toward Mordred, who carried Arthur's bloodline.

"Wheeeeek! Hoooooooot!"

During a rest stop.

With Arthur's permission, a huge Pictish woman warrior carefully lifted Mordred from the cradle into her arms.

Then she climbed onto a cliff and held Mordred high overhead like Simba from The Lion King, and the Pictish warriors filling the mountainside, men and women, old and young alike, began pounding the ground and cheering in frenzied ecstasy.

The bloodline of the war god they worshiped. To them, Mordred was already a sacred relic no different from the descent of a god.

"Wow... this really does make me feel like some kind of god somewhere."

Arthur rested his chin on his hand and let out a dry laugh as he watched the bizarre yet strangely majestic sight.

Beside him, Barghest leaned her greatsword on her shoulder and sighed.

"The Picts in our Fairy Britain were rough too, but they still had their own rules and a certain gentlemanly side.... Seeing creatures this openly ruled only by instinct, I honestly find it a little hard to adjust."

Ushiwakamaru stroked Tayuguro's neck and smiled softly.

"Among barbarian tribes that worship martial strength, deification is common to begin with. Since the seeds of needless rebellion have been cut off from the start, would that not rather be a positive thing for the commander's rule?"

Just then, Stheno, peeling grapes, looked down at Arthur with a languid and seductive smile.

"Hehe, welcome to the seat of a primordial god, Master. Ever since I was summoned into this world, there hasn't been a moment to be bored. Being with you is so entertaining I can hardly stand it."

To her, an original goddess, this scene of barbaric worship was nothing more than amusing entertainment.

"A divine bloodline is meant to be worshiped. Greece just had so many demigods and divine lineages that it distorts the picture, but generally speaking, this is normal. You are of divine blood too, after all."

"That's true, but seeing not just me, but even my daughter become an object of worship feels strange."

Mordred did not seem to understand what was going on, but being lifted up and down like an airplane seemed to put her in a good mood.

After the break ended, Arthur's Pictish host crossed the border of the Kingdom of Fidach and reached the entrance to a primeval forest thick with giant trees dense enough to blot out the sky.

But unlike the earlier Fotla campaign, this battlefield took a different shape.

There was no sign of the enemy king leading an army out to provoke them.

Perhaps because word had spread that the King of Fotla had burst apart like a watermelon from a single blow, Fidach's army hid themselves thoroughly in the forest and began waging guerrilla warfare with poisoned darts and traps.

Instead of the king appearing, it seemed the higher Picts who actually used strategy had joined the battle.

Sshhk!Thud!

From between tree roots and atop dense leaves, poison-coated arrows poured down like rain.

The Fotla Pictish soldiers under Arthur's command shrieked and charged into the woods, but under the ambushes of Fidach's army, which was exploiting the terrain to the fullest, they gradually began to bleed.

Guerrilla tactics.

Arthur seemed rather interested in this sort of real warfare, the kind knights did not often use.

"So you're going to hide and keep taking cheap shots?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed sharply.

Such lowly guerrilla warfare meant nothing before the lord of the red dragon.

"Move. I'll open the way myself."

Ruuumble!!

Arthur kicked off the ground and leaped, then drove a full-powered punch into the empty air toward the heart of the primeval forest.

KWA-BOOOOM!!

An overwhelming shockwave, packed with the red dragon's mana and storm, struck the forest like a typhoon.

Ancient giant trees hundreds of years old snapped and flew apart like toothpicks, and one whole section of the forest was utterly devastated.

At the same time, Arthur drew Chrysaor from his waist and swung it savagely in a horizontal arc.

Flash!!

A golden lightning slash split the forest in two, grinding the soldiers of Fidach hiding in the trees into the air together with sprays of blood.

"Barghest! Nobunaga! Burn the forest!"

Arthur's merciless order rang out.

"At once!!"

Barghest drove her enormous greatsword into the ground and spewed hellfire, while Nobunaga, floating in the air, deployed countless matchlocks and rained down flaming bullets.

In an instant, the dense primeval forest transformed into an uncontrollable inferno.

As their hiding place burned away, Fidach's army hiding in the woods came pouring out screaming, and the Pictish warriors under Arthur's command began butchering them with merciless axe blows, turning the battle into a massacre.

Before overwhelming force, any tactic was meaningless.

"Nobunaga!"

Arthur shouted as he looked at the burning forest.

"I'll deal with the rabble, so you fly ahead and smash in the King of Fidach's skull! That coward's probably holed up in the capital anyway!"

"Hahaha! An order I've been waiting for! I, the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, shall go punch a wind hole through that barbarian king's forehead!"

Nobunaga climbed atop a matchlock and flew toward Fidach's capital, staining the night sky red with her boisterous laughter.

But contrary to Arthur's expectations, the King of Fidach was not in the capital.

At that same time.

On Eigg, an isolated island a little off the northwestern coast of Fidach's territory.

It was a women-only kingdom, the sort said to exist one by one in every culture of the world, an independent power made up solely of strong Pictish warrior women.

And before the queen who led that tribe, Queen Moidart.

The large-framed King of Fidach was on his knees, sweating coldly.

"Great Queen Moidart! Please, I beg you, form an alliance with our Fidach!"

The King of Fidach cried out in a desperate voice.

"That demon king of Britain smashed Fotla in a single day and is marching onward! If our forest falls, then without question Queen, your island of Eigg will be next!"

Fidach had always been fiercely proud, but what had happened to his brother filled him with deep unease.

He too was a Pict, and so he had come here with the fear that even the Picts of his own country might betray him at any moment.

"Arthur Pendragon. I have heard the rumors. Is that man strong?"

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