The King Conquers Another World

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 were short-lived, because King Arthur had drawn the Sword of Selection, 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. She had changed into the light, flowing clothes of the new era, and had lost the inhuman holiness she possessed 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 isn't enough to defeat Vortigern. That monster can't be eliminated with just this much power!"

"Is that so? Then there's no other way." Artoria raised her holy sword, pointed it at the Barbarian King, and said, "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 Clan 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 a favor? Summon your pseudo- Spirit Origin to fight."

"Hey! Father King! You're ignoring me? Let me go too!" Little Mo shouted, waving his hands in frustration.

"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 sneer.

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

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

"Alright, Father King! 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 his silver greatsword with both hands and slashing upwards.

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

With tremendous force, the sword and the axe clashed together, testing their strength.

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

"Hmph, rebellious knight. I thought the one 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 preparing to perform a possession 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 Inherent Domain. 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.

Da Vinci smiled approvingly and nodded.

The Magic Eye unfolds, reading data from the surrounding space. It locks onto only one enemy: the demon Vortigern. From the myriad worlds and the possibilities of different universes, it searches for the most suitable learning target for this battle.

"Axe of Conquest of Ten Thousand Nations!!!"

The Barbarian King roared, activating his Noble Phantasm, which shimmered with blue, white, and red stripes and starlight. The two axes merged, transforming into a gigantic axe with star-striped patterns. This was the glory of the Anglo -Saxons, the most successful invading race in Human History. They left Northern Europe, conquered Britain, absorbed the Christianity culture brought by Rome, integrated into Europe, and became the Sun Never Sets 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 Incineration of Humanity in 2017 to the freezing of the Human Order in 2018, with each year seemingly coming to an end, 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 alright." Mordred only then realized Shirou's current state: he was wearing blue and silver armor, holding a golden spear, his hair had turned a similar gold, 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 itself 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 snapping out of it. 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 incredibly handsome right now, second only to my Father King! What's going on?!'

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

Little 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 manage to 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 twin 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 glint flashed in Shirou's eyes as he raised his Holy Lance, which shimmered with golden spirals, 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 Vortigern!" After landing, the Barbarian King carefully examined Shirou and then burst into a joyful laugh.

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh!!!" The barbarians shouted with ecstatic joy.

The Holy Lance from the King Arthur legend is a top-tier Noble Phantasm on par with the Great Declaration of Victory among the many gun-type Noble Phantasm. However, its brilliance is overshadowed by the glorious deeds of Excalibur, which runs throughout King Arthur's legendary life, and it is not widely known.

However, it is also the most powerful Noble Phantasm. In King Arthur's battle against Vile King Fafnir, it was this Holy Lance 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 Noble Phantasm was the Holy Lance in his hand, a golden lance spiraling with light.

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

This 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 with the divinity permeating from the Holy Lance.

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

At this moment, Shirou raised his Holy Lance, aimed it at the Barbarian King, and assumed a battle stance ready to pierce him at any moment.

"Hahaha, I was just saying that you Knights of the Round Table were missing a few Gil guys, and here they are!" Seeing the boy's posture, the Barbarian King put away his twin 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 Noble Phantasm to Vortigern, so we have no reason to continue fighting you," 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 disorganization 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, Barbarian King Sam, on behalf of the Anglo Clan, 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, her voice full of authority.

"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, hoping for 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 has finally come to end it all.

Artoria displayed the skill of a queen, immediately convening a meeting with the barbarian high command, 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 Demonic Beast and soldiers controlled by the Black Mud, minimizing the 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 Mo's eyes lit up with anticipation.

"The decisive battle will take place at midnight tonight. At that time, heed 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.

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

"Oh..." Little Mo finally snapped out of her reverie.

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

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

Then Shirou sat down at the very back.

When the car started moving, Little Mo realized a big problem.

The driver in front was the cool and handsome blonde girl, King Arthur, while sitting behind her was Shirou with blue eyes.

Caught in the middle, Little 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, Little Mo?" Shirou asked the girl in front of him, puzzled.

"Shirou! Don't come so close to me with that gun!" Little Mo 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 then remembered how Mordred died and 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, Little Mo?" Shirou released his hands, leaned forward, and whispered in the girl's ear.

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

"... Little 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..." Little 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 Mo is completely useless 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 Little Mo would resist and dislike him.

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

So if you were to see Cú Chulainn here, you would definitely be very annoyed. The incompatibility of personalities is one aspect, but more importantly, it's hard for a person to smile at someone who killed them.

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

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

"I don't know either!!" Little Mo got angry instead 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, often suddenly becoming very emotional.

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

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

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

"Waaaaah!" Little 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 stopped working. It seemed that because the constitution of Servant 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 give the boy a cold look.

"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, Little 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 Pellinore's camp.

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

That would be true, at least assuming that Morgan le Fay, who fathered five Knights of the Round Table and whose Magecraft skills were no less than Merlin's, and her husband, King 'Lotto', were not present.

The steel behemoth roared, and before the guards in the camp could react, it had already rushed in, creating a gust of wind that 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?" Pellinore glanced arrogantly at the newcomers, then raised his head without even seeing them clearly and spoke sarcastically.

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

"King?" Pellinore 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 both casually, as if they were old friends she'd just reunited with, saying, "Hmph! You're still as noisy as ever, Pellinore Lamorak. Long time no see."

Because Pellinore's voice was loud, the news quickly spread throughout the entire military 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 served as rebels in the past, and clearly understood how terrifying King Arthur, as an enemy, was.

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 were to come into close contact with it, you might feel fear because you cannot 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 inspiring than fighting alongside such a powerful person.

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