Anya's Advance!

On a small slope beside a stream.

As Duncan and the others drew closer, Duke of Tintagel rose to his feet and took the initiative to greet the knight who had saved him.

He was the Duke of Cornwall, possessing vast lands and strength second only to King Uther. The two were also rivals, and before the Saxon Barbarians launched their massive invasion, he had even clashed with King Uther.

Long ago, when Duke of Tintagel met with King Uther, he had brought along his wife, Igraine. King Uther had fallen in love with Igraine at first sight and thought of her day and night.

Later, with the help of the knight Ulfius and Merlin, King Uther transformed himself and slipped into Igraine's bedchamber, spending the night with the beautiful Duchess and conceiving King Arthur.

Cornwall lay at the very bottom of the map of Britain, in that little jutting corner. Since they had avoided the Saxon Pirates at the time, Duncan's group had landed somewhat off course.

Duncan and the others gradually approached.

Duke of Tintagel—Gorlois—could not help but look toward the people who had just saved his life. The most eye-catching among them was undoubtedly Severus, because his attire was far too famous on Britain Island of Celtic Mythology.

A Druid priest!

Only then did his gaze fall upon the young man riding alone, bow on his back and sword at his side. He was so young. Human Form No. 1 was only nineteen this year. He had been a blacksmith's apprentice for barely half a year before getting sent back to Bran Village on the border for flirting with the still-charming wife of the shop next door.

Handsome and upright, with deep, restrained eyes and features like a carved statue from Ancient Greece, he was impossible to look away from. Meeting his gaze made one's heart tremble slightly. Duke of Tintagel had always considered himself quite good-looking, but even he felt somewhat ashamed beside this young knight.

In truth, Human Form No. 1 had decent features to begin with, or he would not have been able to take shortcuts. But if one were to call him extraordinarily handsome, he was merely above average.

The true transformation had begun with Duncan's journey of slaughter. Killing had forged a unique aura around him: still, he was tranquil as an abyss; in motion, he was thunder and lightning. The cold gleam erupting from his eyes made people shudder.

Without realizing it, the slaughter amid blood and fire had shaped a distinct temperament within him. Combined with the Blood of the Holy Grail and his improved physical abilities, the change had become increasingly apparent.

Raven Queen Triss wore a veil that concealed her peerlessly beautiful face.

Duke of Tintagel's gaze quickly settled on the witch Anya instead. A flash of amazement crossed his face. Seemingly captivated by Anya's stunning beauty, he actually froze for a moment.

If he had not just suffered defeat, lost so many men, and barely escaped with his own life, he surely would have found a way to strike up a conversation with such a gorgeous Roman noblewoman.

But now, all his attention was focused on Duncan, and his gaze burned with intensity.

What a warrior!

He had never seen such a valiant knight in his life!

Duncan rode forward, with Anya's horse half a head ahead of his, while everyone else remained behind. Their respective positions immediately made the hierarchy clear.

"It looks like that Roman noblewoman holds the highest status."

Duke of Tintagel quickly realized this, but he also noticed that the warrior held a high position. Everyone treated him as their leader, and the beautiful Roman noblewoman would occasionally turn to look at him, her expression clearly showing dependence and affection.

The aura of old Roman Empire nobility about Anya was simply too strong.

Whether it was her proud bearing, her features, skin, attire, or anything else, she exuded the air of an old Imperial aristocrat. Unless one came from a truly well-established noble family, it was impossible to cultivate such an innate air of wealth and privilege.

After the last Roman Legion withdrew from the Province of Britannia, the various remaining powers had divided the land among themselves. Duke of Tintagel had inherited part of the Romans' legacy.

Otherwise, he would not have been able to form a British Legion that was a watered-down version of the Imperial Field Army.

Duke of Tintagel stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Duncan, but he greeted Anya first. "Thank you all for saving us!"

What a fierce general!

What he needed most right now was a warrior like this.

Compared to that, though Anya was devastatingly beautiful, his wife Igraine was also one of the greatest beauties on Britain Island. Having seen so much beauty, he had naturally developed some resistance to it.

Anya gave a slight nod. Though her status was lower than his, she could not lose in bearing. Old Roman aristocrats might lose face, but never presence; her aura was overwhelming.

And to be fair, Anya's proud manner really did intimidate Duke of Tintagel somewhat.

After all, Britain Island was a remote region, an isolated and abandoned Imperial province. The title of duke sounded imposing, but this was not the Middle Ages. A duke truly could not compare to a count, because a count was an actual commander of the Imperial Field Army.

Anya had originally been a social butterfly of the Empire, so dealing with a duke-lord from some remote backwater was effortless for her. She displayed Roman arrogance to the fullest, to the point that Duke of Tintagel felt a little insecure about his own origins.

After a brief exchange, Anya answered every question with ease, immediately making Duke of Tintagel realize that this Roman noblewoman truly came from a family of Imperial Field Army commanders.

Although the Imperial Legion had withdrawn, after several centuries of a vast empire, the Romans still retained a certain degree of influence on Britain Island.

Even Duke of Tintagel's own ancestor had been a Roman Legion general who married the daughter of an Indigenous Chieftain.

By lineage, Anya was clearly of nobler birth than he was.

Though Duke of Tintagel was speaking with Anya, he kept glancing at the cold, half-step-behind guard, Duncan. There was no need to think twice: this fierce warrior had to be the Roman noblewoman's personal guard and lover. It would be difficult for anyone but an old Imperial aristocrat to recruit such a formidable guard knight.

Among the entire group, only Anya's identity could be presented openly.

Duncan had been born an Imperial lowborn, which made it somewhat difficult for him to play a role. Though Anya's usual status was so low she was nearly treated as a household commodity, at this moment she was arrogant to the extreme. She even turned around and swept a provocative glance at Raven Queen Triss.

Raven Queen Triss merely smiled without speaking, a teasing curve at the corner of her lips that made Anya shiver.

Endure.

This was not yet the time to openly challenge Raven Queen Triss's position.

Anya had dealt with nobles since birth. Compared to her effortless elegance and arrogance, Duke of Tintagel seemed like a coarse country upstart. He had always thought his wife, Igraine, was an elegant and noble beauty, the Rose of Britain, but compared to Anya now, he felt that perhaps only his wife's beauty could be mentioned in the same breath.

Duke of Tintagel was itching with impatience, yet he never found a chance to properly speak with Duncan.

Brother warrior!

No matter how beautiful that woman is, she's only a fallen aristocrat. I'm a lord with real power. Why not pledge yourself to me? I'll grant you the title of noble knight.

It had to be said: once men took to the battlefield, fierce generals were more alluring than beauties.

Beauties were common; fierce generals were hard to find.

This round of mutual probing had allowed both sides to learn the other's true circumstances. Whether someone was truly of noble birth could be discerned from many details—pretending to be an aristocrat was not so easy. Duke of Tintagel had also learned why Anya's group had ended up stranded on Britain Island.

They had encountered Saxon Pirates!

In recent years, the Britons had suffered defeat after defeat, and the coastline had basically fallen under the control of the Saxon Pirates.

The group returned to the castle together.

Along the way, Anya lagged slightly behind and whispered to Duncan, "Talk less later. Leave the dealings to me."

In the eyes of the two Witch big sisters, Duncan was still just a tender nineteen-year-old blade of grass, incapable of handling an old fox like this.

Anya was skilled at reading people. Seeing Duke of Tintagel constantly looking at Duncan, she knew that he was very interested in her "personal guard."

She intended to seize the initiative!

To take control, she had to bait this provincial duke. Anya truly did not think much of him. A country duke from Britain Island—what was he worth? At the imperial court, he would not even qualify for a seat.

The legitimate nobles of the Roman Empire were just that overbearing.

It was time to show this man what she could do. Raven Queen—Triss, hmph, he was merely a brute with a bit of martial strength.

Having escaped alive, Duke of Tintagel could not help but breathe a sigh of relief.

He did not dare go back to gather the routed soldiers. He only wanted to flee back to his territory as quickly as possible, then summon his other troops and seek aid from the native tribes close to him, intercepting the invaders once more at the castle's front line.

He had initiated this field battle because he held a numerical advantage and believed victory was his for the taking. He had not expected to be utterly crushed the moment they clashed head-on.

More than three thousand men against just over a thousand, and they had been routed in a single wave.

Along the way, Anya exchanged a few words with Duke of Tintagel, but did not mention the battlefield. She merely explained how she had accidentally ended up stranded on Britain Island and promised that if he helped her return to Rome, she would reward him generously.

This was the first step in taking the initiative. Anya advanced carefully, waiting for Duke of Tintagel to take the bait.

Sure enough.

Duke of Tintagel immediately bit, declaring righteously, "You saved my life without asking for anything in return."

"I will certainly find a way to escort you back to Rome, madam."

At the beginning, she could not make her intentions too obvious.

Anya frankly said that she wished to borrow his strength to return to Italy. After all, they no longer had a ship.

Farmland appeared ahead, spread across a plain dotted with rivers and lakes.

Unhurriedly, Anya spoke of matters at the Roman court, including the current Emperor of the Empire, Valentinian III, and the Protector of the Realm, Aetius, as though she were quite familiar with these high-ranking figures of the Empire.

This was the second step: elevating her status.

News on Britain Island was cut off, and Duke of Tintagel was indeed engrossed as he learned that the Empire was now also in dire straits.

But a starving camel was still larger than a horse.

The Roman Empire could still confront the Hunnic Empire's massive invading army of five hundred thousand head-on. Hearing that number made even a provincial duke like him shudder inwardly. Compared to the Empire's vast territories, the Province of Britannia was completely expendable land.

That was the Empire!

For centuries, Britannia had been the most insignificant province. It had been abandoned because it lacked sufficient value; in the Empire's eyes, maintaining the province had become increasingly unprofitable, a losing venture.

Anya secretly observed his expression and continued casting the bait, sighing softly. "I would never have ended up stranded in Britannia by accident otherwise."

"It is all because North Africa has been in constant turmoil, and the Vandals invaded Carthage."

"As a result, my business has also been severely affected."

Hm?

Hearing Anya's words, Duke of Tintagel immediately perked up his ears.

This was the third step: tempting him with profit.

What Anya said was indeed true. After the Empire lost North Africa's grain-producing regions, it immediately fell into a fiscal crisis, and her merchant association had also suffered greatly. The fleet under Anya's control had originally operated two trade routes. One ran from Rome to Alexandria in Egypt, passing many port cities along the way, with exceedingly generous trade profits. (The most profitable route could even reach Jerusalem and connect to the Silk Road.)

The other trade route ran from Rome to Carthage in North Africa. This route was also highly profitable, as North Africa was an important grain-producing region.

Now Anya had lost one arm, and her other arm had been broken as well.

The entire merchant caravan had already fallen into difficulty and likely could not hold on much longer.

She had traveled by sea to Gaul because fighting had already broken out beyond the Alps.

A rich woman?

An exceedingly wealthy widow?

Duke of Tintagel was quite tempted, but when he looked at the cold and heroic Duncan, he felt he had no chance. How could he possibly compete with that young man who seemed like a statue from Ancient Greece? Moreover, he was a shrewd man himself and could somewhat tell that, deep down, Anya did not regard a duke of Britain Island as anything important.

It was like being a prince or noble of the capital, with one's ancestors having held military power and lived in the most prosperous place under heaven—how highly could one possibly regard a local strongman on the borderlands of Yunnan who controlled one or two county towns?

That was roughly the idea. Even the governor of the Province of Britannia was worth more than those kings and dukes.

Duke of Tintagel was roughly equivalent to a daimyo power from the Japanese Warring States Period.

She had a fleet?

And it could conduct long-distance trade across the Mediterranean Sea?

Eastward, it could reach Alexandria in Egypt? Westward, it could reach Carthage in North Africa?

That was far too tempting.

Britain Island was extremely remote and never one of the Empire's core provinces. There had once been maritime trade, but after the Saxons invaded, everything had descended into chaos. Saxon Pirates had nearly cut off all sea trade with mainland Europe.

Cornwall was rather remote, tucked away in a corner of Britain Island, but it also had one advantage: it was close to the coast.

As a qualified ruler, Duke of Tintagel realized this was an opportunity. If he could gain the support of this Roman noblewoman, perhaps he could recover somewhat. Whether it was food, weapons, or goods, all of it could help Cornwall's war-ravaged economy recover considerably.

That was Anya's method.

Only tangible benefits could attract political creatures like him.

Duncan, standing nearby, was also somewhat surprised. He had heard Raven Queen Triss mention that Anya was wealthy and had a merchant guild fleet, but he had not expected her reach to extend so far.

In truth, it was perfectly normal.

Why else would the descendant of a fallen noble family from the previous dynasty—Renegade Julian's confidante—be able to marry the currently famous commander of the Imperial Field Army?

Because she was beautiful and rich. It was that simple.

After Anya's husband had died unexpectedly in battle, she had also legally inherited most of his family's estate.

She truly was rich.

Hmm, it looked like he had still underestimated her. He would go easier next time.

Duncan thought to himself.

After saying that much, Anya fell silent, leaving Duke of Tintagel beside her room to imagine for himself. Fishing had to be done step by step. Right now, she was merely laying the bait. Her true goal remained Duncan's mercenary plans, except her appetite was even greater.

She wanted to rightfully and legally possess a territory on Britain Island.

Preferably somewhere with a port.

Once she had a foothold on Britain Island, she could consider transferring part of her assets here. Although business would not be as profitable as in the Mediterranean Sea, there were still quite a few port cities along the route from Britain to North Africa.

With territory came opportunity.

Most importantly, she could prove that she was the best virtuous wife to help Duncan rise to power!

Men were more satisfying when stolen.

Hmph!

Raven Queen Triss was nothing more than a brute.

Without a doubt, Duke of Tintagel had taken the bait.

His position on Britain Island was rather awkward. King Uther was a king, while he was a duke, equivalent to a regional lord, so both his status and strength were inferior to the other's. If not for the Saxon invasion, King Uther would likely have kept him firmly suppressed.

According to legend, after he died in an accident, King Uther also suddenly died two years later. Regional lords rose up, and Britain Island entered a true era of turmoil.

What followed was Merlin assisting King Arthur's rise to the throne, along with the famous incident of the "Sword in the Stone."

Tintagel Castle.

Duke of Tintagel, who had fled back in a sorry state, wore an ugly expression. Even so, he sent people to arrange accommodations for Duncan's group while ordering his guard knights to assemble the troops and defend against further Saxon incursions.

His territory was not actually small. At its peak, it had extended to the area around Winchester, though he had built his power in Cornwall. His conflicts with King Uther had never ceased, but he had gradually grown weaker. The lords loyal to him had defected to King Uther, while he himself had been beaten senseless by the Saxons.

Britain itself covered only around 240,000 square kilometers. England was roughly 130,000 square kilometers, Scotland 80,000 square kilometers, and Wales 20,000 square kilometers.

The fighting was mainly concentrated in England.

With only so much land to divide among so many lords, none of their territories were particularly large.

Inside the castle.

Anya quietly moved to Duncan's side, stuffed a bag of gold into his hand, and whispered, "Reward the servants later."

There was no need to be overly generous, but they could not be too stingy either.

Everyone had gone hungry while fleeing along the way. Although Duke of Tintagel had suffered a humiliating defeat, he still wished to preserve his dignity and ordered a banquet prepared to welcome them.

The Saxon Barbarians were not skilled at siege warfare. They might not dare launch a direct assault on the castle.

His strength had suffered a severe blow, but as long as he was alive and his foundations remained, he would not be wiped out overnight.

Duncan nodded slightly.

While the banquet was being prepared, he casually—but where others could see—rewarded the serving servants and knight attendants with gold coins.

Neither too many nor too few.

Exactly five Aureus each. One side bore the bust of Augustus, crowned and bearded; the other bore the winged Statue of Victoria. Each coin weighed roughly 4.5 grams. Within the Empire, one such gold coin could be exchanged for thirty to fifty Denarius silver coins.

The reward undoubtedly delighted the servants, making them exceptionally humble and attentive.

Romans were arrogant. In their eyes, Britain was a remote backwater inhabited by country bumpkins; even its cities had been built with Roman help.

The more haughty Anya acted, the more firmly they believed her.

Before long.

One of the Aureus coins was delivered into Duke of Tintagel's hands. He looked at the gold coin before him and listened to the knight attendant's report, narrowing his eyes slightly as if lost in thought.

A whole bag of gold.

The knight attendant's eyes nearly popped out of his head. If she were not truly wealthy, who would carry an entire bag of gold around with them?

Clink.

Duke of Tintagel casually tossed the coin over, and the knight attendant caught it delightedly. He was deep in thought, not because of the gold itself, but because of what it represented.

Anya had inadvertently hinted before that she had a private armed force under her command, an Empire-standard Private Legion. (The Exiles Duncan had incorporated.)

He believed that.

Duncan's strength and fighting style were clearly the benchmark of a military man.

"This is an opportunity!"

Duke of Tintagel quickly realized this, but the question was how he could secure cooperation with this Roman noblewoman.

The best way, naturally, would be for him to marry this wealthy widow.

But his wife would not agree, and the other party might not be willing either. Any other form of cooperation was clearly not as secure as a marriage alliance.

But regardless.

This noblewoman, whom fate seemed to have arranged for him to meet, made him think of a possible way to escape his current predicament.

This was where Anya's brilliance lay.

She had no intention of taking the initiative to approach Duke of Tintagel for cooperation, nor did she intend to join Britain Island's faction as a lowly mercenary. What she wanted was for Duke of Tintagel to actively ask for her help, allowing her to act as an ally while also taking care of what Duncan wanted done.

That was to establish a foundation for an armed force on Britain Island.

A legitimate, lawful foundation—one that did not belong to invaders, one that could truly take root on Britain Island!

"Your Grace."

"Madam has arrived!"

Just then, a maid hurried over to report.

Duke of Tintagel was visibly impatient. Igraine had borne him three daughters and no male heir. After years of marriage, their relationship had long since grown cold, and he had even considered taking a lover to bear him a son.

Before long, a graceful and beautiful noblewoman approached. She appeared to be in her thirties. When she saw Duke of Tintagel's impatience in the distance, her entire body trembled, and she covered her mouth in panic.

Her husband had returned after a crushing defeat.

Then who was the man who had spent that passionate night with her two days ago?

At this moment, Duke of Tintagel had yet to realize that not only had he suffered a defeat, but King Uther had even taken his home from him.