An Awkward Encounter 1/2

Meanwhile, the continent stretched out into the vast wilderness, the leaden sky overcast with dense clouds, and a fierce wind howled across the barren land, whipping up withered grass and scattering sand and gravel, reducing visibility in all directions.

A strong stench of blood permeated the air, as severed limbs were buried in the sandstorm, temporarily concealing the stench.

Not far away, on that low-lying, isolated Lone Mountain, several hundred figures were vaguely visible, forming two indistinct lines that loosely blocked a small open space on the hilltop, creating a simple and crude battle line.

Upon closer inspection, the attire and formations of the two groups of people on the Lone Mountain were strikingly different.

The troops directly in front numbered about 1500. Most of them had long, loose hair and wore dirty, tattered linen clothes and short shirts. They carried a variety of weapons, including axes, short swords, cedar bows, and spears. Some of them couldn't even gather all the weapons and had to use sharpened wooden sticks to make do. Their shields were mostly round and were roughly carved with images of ferocious beasts.

In terms of ornaments, some of them wore wooden carvings with runes on their chests, some had wild animal teeth as pendants, and a few were wealthy people who wore gold and silver ornaments.

However, the strong eclectic style resulted in the entire team exuding a shabby vibe, both inside and out.

Their scattered formation and occasional murmurs further highlighted their disorganized and rabble-like nature.

Only the dozen or so chariots with blades stuck in their sides and the dozens of somewhat magnificent warhorses within the camp could barely raise the team's average score slightly.

The situation of the rear camp was quite different. The team of less than thirty men was well-equipped, each wearing Leather Armor, a round iron helmet, and carrying a square shield. They were also equipped with short swords, javelins, and longbows.

The leading officer wore a red, rooster-comb-shaped iron helmet and had a hideous scar on his face, resembling a martial arts slash. His expression was solemn and calm.

The procession behind him stretched out in a long line, exuding a powerful and unified aura. It was clearly a group of people who were capable and efficient. They were surrounded by a magnificent carriage made of fragrant wood, inlaid with jewels, and carved with laurel trees.

Moreover, the front of the minimalist-style military chariots was adorned with a ferocious red dragon banner, while the rear carriages were decorated with gold-edged banners embroidered with red roses, all fluttering in the wind.

On the small, Lone Mountain, the two sides guarding the front and back were separated by a considerable distance, clearly distinct and incompatible.

Moreover, the two sides frequently cast wary and malicious glances at each other's backs, clearly distrusting their so-called allies.

"Bang!"

"Mother! Why won't you let me kill these Roman barbarians first, and then we can break out of here!"

A tall, athletic red-haired girl in Leather Armor drove her chariot to the front of the scarlet flag, turned around and glared at her "ally" behind her, her eyes brimming with malice.

"There are at least two thousand light cavalry scattered around us. Once we leave this Lone Mountain, there's only open ground below. Can two legs outrun four? Where do we go to escape?"

The Queen, whose long red hair was bound by a golden crown and who wore a red and white cloak with tight Leather Armor underneath that accentuated two deep cleavages on her chest, frowned and reprimanded him.

"Even if I die outside, I will not associate with these Romans. They are nothing but a bunch of bastards who want to seize our territory and enslave our people. Have you forgotten the humiliation of kneeling before them? Have you forgotten the purpose of our visit today? We even asked you to save our enemy's carriage!"

The eldest daughter with red hair was somewhat stubborn, turning her head away with a resentful expression.

"Sister, please say less. Mother must have her reasons for making this decision."

Meanwhile, the blonde, blue-eyed, relatively gentle, and slightly shorter second daughter tugged at her sister's clothes and whispered advice.

Seeing that the soldiers at the front line had faintly heard the argument and were causing a slight commotion because of the eldest daughter's loud voice, the red-haired Queen frowned and raised her hand. The old druid beside her understood and immediately set up Magic Barrier and stepped aside.

"Now, those monsters down the mountain could attack at any moment. The Romans are no longer our target. Only by joining forces can we have a chance of survival!"

As for that little girl, she can die! But she absolutely cannot die at our hands, nor at this time! Otherwise, you will not only implicate the people here, but also bring disaster to the tribe!

The Red-Haired Queen took a deep breath, glanced back at the rose banner behind her, and solemnly explained to her eldest daughter.

It really was a cruel twist of fate.

They were originally native inhabitants of the Britain Isles. However, with the expansion of the Roman Empire, their King husband, Prasutagus, was forced to submit to the Romans in order to protect the royal family and their tribe, and agreed to a series of harsh conditions for a temporary survival.

Even so, fate still did not spare their family.

Her husband died young amidst his anxieties, leaving her and her two daughters behind. Without a legitimate heir to the throne, she, as queen, temporarily ascended to the throne.

Claudius I, a Roman Emperor in charge of this area from the Pantheon, seized upon this opportunity and forcefully implemented a strategy of annexing Britain, placing it under the jurisdiction of the Seventh Province called "Britannia".

Faced with the well-equipped and hostile Seventh Legion and the massive Pantheon, the Queen could only try her best to mediate, but she still couldn't stop the tribe's survival space from being gradually eroded and swallowed up.

Fortunately, the Roman Emperor who ruled this area had died mysteriously not long ago, which gave them some breathing room.

A newly appointed governor with no real power dared to lead a mere hundred men to wander around their Celts territory.

If Jian Qi didn't seize this opportunity, he would be wasting a golden chance.

Closing...

They had barely spotted the enemy's movements, and before they could even make a move, the Romans and the women together became prey for those demons.

Forced by circumstances, the Celts, who had been driven out, had no choice but to emerge and flee towards the Lone Mountain. Coincidentally, the Romans had almost been surrounded, had the same idea.

Thus, in an awkward and delicate atmosphere, the two sides, who were originally on the verge of conflict, were cornered on Lone Mountain.

In order to survive, both sides had to hide their dirty secrets and temporarily unite for self-preservation, which is why things have evolved into what they are today.

"Mother, the Romans have brought some medicine and sent several priests to treat our wounded. What should we do?"

"We accepted the other side's overtures, because every extra person alive increases our chances of surviving."

"But there is no water source on the mountain, no fighting, and we only brought two days' worth of dry rations. Medicine is also in short supply. The monsters down the mountain only fired three rounds in a row, and we lost nearly a third of our manpower. I'm afraid we can't hold this Lone Mountain for long."

The more docile and peaceful second daughter reported the message to Queen Boudica, frowning as she expressed her concerns.

"Not necessarily. You forgot that the Romans Seventh Legion is stationed nearby. The man in the carriage has already lit the Pantheon's Sacred Flame. Hold on a little longer, and the reinforcements should be here soon."

The Queen smiled faintly, reassuring her two daughters and several subordinates.

As Boudica turned to look behind her, her gaze darkened instantly.

Judging by the timeline, the Romans Seventh Legion should have arrived long ago! Why haven't they shown up yet?

Could it be that...

The Queen suddenly recalled the mysterious death of the Roman Emperor Claudius I, the governor of the Seventh Province, and the rumors about the child in the laurel wagon. She sighed thoughtfully, shaking her head with a hint of helplessness and pity.

Being born into the family of an emperor is both a blessing and a curse.

Just then, a seven-colored radiance struck down, and the sand and dust spread out like torn cloth. The mournful howls of wolves rose and fell, immediately interrupting Boudica's deep thoughts.

Giant wolves, each two meters tall, with sharp claws and teeth, and scarlet eyes, surged forward like a tide.

Following the pack of wolves, a troop of light cavalry, their faces bearing cruel and bloodthirsty smiles, slowly advanced, looking mockingly at Lone Mountain. In their eyes, it was nothing more than a plump lamb.

On the low hill, a female swordsman with a seven-colored longsword, silver hair flowing down her shoulders, a fit figure, and wheat-colored skin looked indifferently at the battlefield.

Beside her, a giant white wolf, four or five meters tall, lay on its side at the female swordsman's feet, appearing very docile.

Upon seeing this, Boudica's heart sank to the bottom, and her expression froze.

The wolf riders are here!

Attila the Hun, that monster, too!

The King. jpg