Chapter 76: Pictland -4-

Nobunaga, who had flown through the night sky toward Fidach's capital, soon clicked her tongue and turned back.

"Tch, wasted trip."

Perched atop her matchlock, she looked down on Fidach's capital and found it completely empty.

Of course, given the nature of the Picts as a warrior people, even the civilians left in the city were potential combatants, but there was not even a shadow of properly armed soldiers to be seen.

Since even the common people were potential fighters with combat ability, they had emptied the place out entirely and taken all their forces with them.

Even if the city came under attack, the people left behind would simply pick up weapons and fight back. It was a tactic only the Picts could pull off.

"He told me to bring back the king's head, and who would've thought the main camp would be empty? Well, looks like the rat ran off somewhere."

As she swallowed her disappointment and headed back to Arthur, Nobunaga's sharp eyes caught sight of a massive army marching through the forest.

"Oho? So there you were."

It was a combined force of roughly four thousand: twenty-five hundred elite troops led personally by the King of Fidach, together with a five-hundred-strong corps of warrior women.

Nobunaga scratched her chin.

"For a great kingdom that rules the forests, only three thousand regular troops...? That's awfully meager. Even counting the bastards who burned to death in the woods earlier, that's only around four thousand. Did they send their main force to support Dál Riata or one of the other Pictish kingdoms?"

Having finished assessing the situation, she immediately raised the altitude of her matchlock and shot toward Arthur's camp like a bullet.

Arthur had finished dealing with the remnants in the primeval forest.

Half were dead, and half had surrendered.

Arthur listened to Nobunaga's report.

"Four thousand including the troops deployed here. Then their forces were definitely split up. They either sent them toward Dál Riata, or they've got some other scheme. Good. We'll advance straight toward the direction they're coming from."

As soon as the order was given, the Pictish army once again began racing toward the mountain range at terrifying speed.

Yet even amid that blood-chilling advance, the space atop the black horse Llamrei that Arthur rode was uniquely, absurdly peaceful.

"Peekaboo! There we go, our Mordred. Are you having fun?"

"Kyaaah! Kyahaha!"

Holding the reins in one hand, Arthur was lifting Mordred up and down with the other as if she were an airplane.

It was the heartwarming sight of a young father taking care of his baby, so gentle that no one would ever believe it was happening in the middle of a blood-spattered battlefield.

Before long, at the entrance to the Grampian Mountains, called the spine of Britain, also known as Druim Alba, the two armies finally came to a halt facing one another at a distance fit for collision.

Once the battle lines were formed, Arthur carefully handed the giggling Mordred from his arms to Morgan, who had come up beside him.

"Sister, hold her for a moment."

The instant Morgan took the baby in her arms almost without thinking, Mordred reached out with her chubby little hand, grabbed Morgan's silver hair, and babbled, "Ma... mama..."

"......!"

Morgan's shoulders jolted sharply. Mordred was not a child she had carried and borne herself, but she was undeniably blood of her blood, born from the fusion of Morgan's magical factors and her ovum.

Feeling a sharp ache somewhere deep in her chest, she let the cold witch's expression soften, drew Mordred carefully into her arms, and stepped back.

At that moment, from the center of the enemy ranks, the King of Fidach blew a horn made from beast bone and shouted in a booming voice infused with mana.

"You insolent demon king of Britain! We have already forged a firm alliance with Dál Riata! We will never hand this Pictland over to you humans!"

Arthur gave a snort at his empty bluster.

"Ha, so you really had joined hands with Dál Riata. Thank God I split Artoria off and sent her there separately. Otherwise, Dál Riata's main force would've joined up over there by now, and this might've turned into a pretty troublesome fight."

That was when it happened.

From beside the King of Fidach, a group of warrior women whose very presence radiated something extraordinary stepped forward.

At their head stood a queen who was as fearsome as a wild beast, yet possessed overwhelming beauty.

It was the Queen of Moidart, ruler of the Isle of Eigg.

The warrior women guarding the queen stood at her side, giving off a savage air.

And there in the center stood Queen Moidart.

A thick golden ponytail tied high and tight, crimson eyes burning like a predator stalking prey.

Her healthy bronze skin and the primitive beast-hide clothing that barely covered it laid bare her full, bursting breasts and firm abdominal muscles without reservation.

In her hand she held a ridiculously massive greatsword that looked well over a meter long.

"So you're Arthur Pendragon!"

Queen Moidart pointed the tip of her greatsword at Arthur and shouted in a ringing voice.

"I've heard plenty about you! They say you crushed that fool of Fotla in an instant! Face me in single combat. As kings, prove here and now which of us is the true strong one!"

"Hoh..."

Arthur's eyes gleamed with interest at her warlike spirit.

"I rather like that look in your eyes. Fine, I'll accept your challenge."

Arthur lightly sprang down from Llamrei's saddle and strode forward toward Queen Moidart.

"I am Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur placed a hand at his waist.

But what he drew was not Chrysaor, his primary weapon.

It was Caliburn, the ceremonial holy sword that was less a weapon of battle and more a symbol of royal authority.

The moment she saw that ornate but impractical-looking thin blade, Moidart's red eyes twisted with fury.

"You... are you looking down on me right now? Put away that toy sword and draw a proper weapon at once!"

"Ahaha, don't misunderstand."

Arthur spun Caliburn lightly in his hand and smiled in an infuriating way.

"I only drew it because it's the weakest sword I have on me right now. If you die too quickly, that'd be boring, wouldn't it?"

"You insolent little brat!!"

Kaaang!!

Queen Moidart's enormous greatsword tore through the air and came crashing down like lightning toward Arthur's head.

But Arthur simply raised the slender Caliburn and casually, effortlessly knocked aside that brutal slash of pure mass.

"You've got quite a bit of strength, at least."

Arthur gave a relaxed smirk.

"If I had to put it in Strength parameters, C... no, probably B-rank. That's some impressive monstrous power."

"Ghk...!"

As her full-powered blow was stopped, Queen Moidart ground her teeth and unleashed a barrage of follow-up attacks.

She swung the greatsword like a beast's claws, and the instant the blade was blocked, she used the recoil to drive a fist forward and whip a knee strike toward his jaw, chaining together an unending stream of irregular close-combat techniques steeped in wild instinct.

This was the fierce assault of the Picts' greatest powerhouse, a woman whose might even the Seven Kingdoms could not take lightly.

But Arthur, as though watching a child perform a harmless trick, deflected the blows with the flat of Caliburn and evaded the knee strikes with light footwork, never allowing even a single clean hit.

"Haa... haa...!"

Breathing hard, Moidart realized with painful clarity that she could never defeat this monstrous boy king if things continued like this.

She leaped far back, drove her greatsword into the ground, and brought both hands together.

"You... are no ordinary foe. Then as a hero of the Picts, I will draw out everything I have!"

The aura unique to a phantasmal species began boiling explosively from her body.

Even the whites of her beautiful red eyes turned blood-red as Moidart's body entered a berserk state. A beastlike roar burst from between her lips.

"I offer my blood and flesh! Descend, Cernunnos!!"

Cernunnos, the Celtic beast god worshiped by the Picts and the Gaels, ruler of the red deer and the beasts of the forest. The blessing of that faith overlaid her body with the fighting spirit of a giant beast.

"Hoh? She's basically the Pict version of Penthesilea."

Arthur let out a disbelieving laugh as he watched her blazing aura.

"I never thought I'd hear the name Cernunnos here."

The moment she heard that name, Barghest, waiting behind him, flinched and gripped the hilt of her greatsword tightly.

"Master! If it's Cernunnos, isn't that a very dangerous being?! Let me help you!"

"It's fine. Calm down, Barghest. No need to panic."

Arthur raised one hand to stop her.

"The Cernunnos of Proper Human History isn't on the same level as that absurdly monstrous fluffy furball god from the Fairy Kingdom where you were. The blessing of a beast god bestowed on some mere tribal chief isn't all that impressive."

The moment Arthur made that relaxed declaration, Moidart, having gained monstrous strength through Cernunnos's blessing, shattered the earth beneath her feet and charged at him.

"Diiieee!!"

A supreme strike from her greatsword, loaded with every ounce of her strength, as if it could split even space itself.

But Arthur's eyes did not waver in the slightest.

Into the Caliburn in his hand, he poured the pure magical energy of the red dragon and wrapped a spiral of storm around it. The golden holy sword shone crimson and brilliant like a dazzling sun.

Flash!!!!

Arthur lightly swung Caliburn, and that single slash collided head-on with Moidart's greatsword.

Kaaang!!Craaack...Crash!!

There was not even a single second of resistance. The iron greatsword Moidart had taken pride in shattered like glass and scattered in all directions.

And the aftermath of that stormlike slash swept straight over Moidart's body.

"Khk...!"

Her beastly aura was torn apart, and a long, deep sword wound was carved across Queen Moidart's firm bronze chest. Blood spurted out like a fountain.

"Ahh......"

It was a fatal wound.

The red madness vanished from Moidart's eyes, and with strength leaving her legs, she dropped to her knees. Letting go of the hilt of her shattered greatsword, she quietly bowed her head.

It was acknowledgment of an overwhelming, absolute defeat before a foe she could not reach, even after pouring everything she had into the fight.

"Q-Queen Moidart has fallen...! Y-you idiots! What are you standing there for like fools?! Kill him at once! Attack!!"

The King of Fidach, who had been watching from behind, turned pale and screamed like a madman.

But—

Clatter...thud...

Despite the King of Fidach's shouts, not only the five hundred warrior women of the Isle of Eigg who followed Moidart, but even Fidach's twenty-five hundred elite soldiers began dropping the weapons in their hands to the ground one by one.

"Y-you bastards...! Is this treason?! Pick up your weapons at once!"

The king screamed, spittle flying, but not a single person obeyed his command.

These Picts did not follow a useless king who was all mouth and no worth.

The only truth engraved into their instincts was absolute strength.

Before them stood an overwhelming god who had subdued the greatest hero of the Picts, their queen, with a single swing of a toy-like sword.

As Arthur stood there bleeding, his sword lowered, they all dropped to their knees at once and bowed their heads to him as though paying homage to a great sacred tree.

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