As the morning sun rose, brilliant shards of golden light pierced the clouds and spilled over Britain, illuminating that pure-white land of ideals.
The mist of dawn gradually dispersed, and the towering Holy Capital Camelot resembled a lion awakened from slumber.
With the turning of winches and the lighting of magical incantations, two squads of fully armed Purification Knights slowly opened the sealed main gates and split apart to stand guard on either side.
Within the city, whether plainly dressed commoners or splendidly attired nobles, all gathered along the main street leading to the gates of the Holy Capital, gazing outward with anticipation and excitement.
Ooooh—oooh—
Before long, deep and resounding horns sounded. A steel flood glinting beneath the sunlight crossed the distant horizon and surged rapidly toward the gates of the Holy Capital like a silver tide.
In an instant, the thunderous roar of ten thousand galloping horses erupted. The earth beneath everyone's feet seemed like a giant drum being struck without pause, shaking violently as sand and gravel flew into the air.
Before the army even arrived, its brutal, murderous aura had already swept over them, nearly suffocating them. Faced with this invincible force, even Holy Capital Camelot could offer no sense of security. Everyone felt as though they stood amid flashing blades and clashing swords, chills running through their entire bodies.
Before that sharp, unstoppable edge, any enemy daring to bar its path would have their courage and will to resist washed away in an instant. The only thought left in their hearts would be to drop their weapons, cast aside their armor, and turn to flee.
Boom!
As the vast army approached the Holy Capital, it suddenly slowed and swiftly divided into several formations. Their shifting ranks displayed exquisite coordination and horsemanship.
Each unit was clearly