Duncan Riding a Druid, Isn't That Invincible?

Tintagel Castle.

Though the dinner Duke of Tintagel had prepared was quite lavish, it tasted rather mediocre. Here's a bad joke for everyone: British cuisine.

In this era, Europe probably had only Italian cuisine and Frankish dishes that were somewhat palatable.

Anya looked thoroughly disgusted.

She was accustomed to a life of privilege and carried a whole host of bad habits from her old Roman aristocratic upbringing.

Duncan was not picky, though he exercised some restraint. He had discovered that the Power of Gluttony could not be used to eat like that every day; indulging in gluttony about once a week was probably enough.

It slowly increased his maximum vitality. Over time, combined with the effects of the Blood of the Holy Grail, it would bring changes to both his muscles and bones.

He was not particularly burly, but he was immensely strong. The density of his muscles and bones had surpassed that of ordinary mortals.

The castle was dark and damp.

Under the candlelight at the long table, two hypocritical political aristocrats exchanged polite words and probed at each other. Anya was an old hand at this—the Empire's social butterfly. Every word she spoke was watertight, as she kept baiting Duke of Tintagel and waited for him to take the initiative to ask for help.

Politics truly was filthy. Duncan was a little out of his depth, or perhaps political creatures simply had no feelings. Interests were their sole driving force.

Duke of Tintagel, meanwhile, was exceedingly attentive toward the aristocratic widow, even with his wife sitting right beside him.

There was one other person at the long table whose expression was uneasy.

Igraine.

Duke of Tintagel's wife. She was also a beauty, but she looked deeply frightened. Fortunately, it was already late and the lighting was poor, while Duke of Tintagel's gaze rarely fell upon her.

"Has something already happened?"

Duncan knew history could deviate slightly, but seeing the Duchess's anxious appearance, he could not shake the feeling that something had happened.

If Merlin had stepped in to help, Duke of Tintagel would have had no way to guard against him.

After entertaining them for a while, Duke of Tintagel arranged for servants to settle Duncan's group in. Duchess Igraine hurried away, not even in the mood to exchange a few casual words with them.

It felt as though she was avoiding Duke of Tintagel.

Raven Queen Triss followed Duncan and whispered, "That Duchess seems a little off."

Duncan could not exactly say that he knew what would happen in the future. He merely said in a low voice, "We'll play it by ear."

In the corridor, Severus stopped and looked at everyone. "I'm leaving tonight."

"I'll find a way to recruit some people."

Severus had mentioned before that he still had some connections on Britain Island. Among the native Celtic tribes, many still believed in the Druid Sect, whose members were regarded as beings capable of speaking with the Celtic Gods.

They had too few people.

Whether by spending money or leveraging connections, everyone agreed that they needed to replenish their manpower—preferably with units that possessed a certain degree of combat ability.

Severus volunteered to set out. He planned to recruit some traditional Celtic Warriors, similar to the troop types used by the Gaul factions.

Duncan pondered for a moment, then nodded. "All right."

"Be careful."

Severus smiled at that. "Don't worry. I'm a Druid."

In places where Celtic beliefs still endured, Druids truly moved as freely as fish in water. Any native tribe he visited would treat him with the utmost respect.

Severus leaped straight out the window.

The next second, his form suddenly changed. He transformed directly into a bird and swiftly vanished before the others' astonished eyes.

Raven Queen Triss was also surprised. She said softly, "This is the first time I've seen him use Polymorph."

Only now did the two Witches realize that Severus's spellcasting ability had recovered.

"A Druid's shapeshifting ability?"

Duncan also watched Severus vanish into the night sky. He switched to God's Eye View and saw a bird marked "Druid." It landed and transformed into a human, then quickly turned into a tall stag beneath the moonlight and plunged headfirst into the dense forest.

Severus could shapeshift?

Could he turn into a warhorse, then? Something like Red Hare?

And if I rode him?

Wouldn't I be able to slaughter everyone with ease?

As everyone knew, a hunter's best pet was a Druid.

The thought only flashed through his mind. It was still a bit too much for Severus; after all, they were comrades who had shared life and death. How could he make him into a mount?

The creatures he transformed into were all ordinary animals, so his combat strength did not improve much.

"Two-Star Silver-Gray elite units should all have a special trick up their sleeves!"

Duncan thought again of the Ascetic Order Sanctuary. Those were the true top-tier experts. Once Severus regained his strength, his methods were quite formidable as well. His Polymorph held enormous potential and could be considered compensation for the disability in his fingers.

At that thought, Duncan could not help turning to glance at the Witch—Anya.

Hmm.

Still a Two-Star Blank. No change at all.

Anya noticed Duncan's gaze and seemed to have guessed some of his thoughts. She bit her luscious red lip, her expression carrying a hint of pitiful grievance.

For her spellcasting ability to fully recover, either the Goddess of Beauty—Aphrodite—would have to revive, or she would need to change allegiance and find a Deity with similar authority. In all of Europe, only the Norse Pantheon probably had one.

The Raven Queen—Triss—was a special exception. Not every Witch was born as extraordinary as she was.

Speaking of spellcasting, there was another big shot on Britain Island.

The legendary Wizard—Merlin!

The group returned to their rooms. Anya tried to sneak into Duncan's room again, but after receiving a glare from the Raven Queen—Triss, she obediently went back.

That night, the mountain flood poured forth.

Recently, she had developed quite a taste for it and was always trying to pull little tricks.

But beauty was a blade that scraped the bone. Duncan could not indulge himself too much right now. Every now and then was good for body and mind, but too often would affect his combat strength.

Wine and women have left me so haggard. From today onward, I quit drinking.

--"Day 23 Since Transmigration: 93 heads."

He took out his little notebook and wrote it down.

His gains from battle had been rather limited lately. Still, after entering Britain Island, he had acquired quite a few new abilities.

It seemed that if he wanted to further expand his combat skills, he would have to hunt down and defeat different kinds of enemies.

This battle had added several new abilities as well.

--"Born Sailor: Saxons are born sailors. They excel at fighting amid the waves of the sea. Unlike other invading barbarian tribes, the Saxons chose to conquer Britain Island. Enhances naval aptitude, allowing sailor-related abilities to be mastered quickly."

--"Naval Combat Mastery: Amid the waves of the sea, you can maintain your sense of balance. Saxon Pirates excel at naval combat and can keep their balance on a deck. Some elite pirates can even fight while standing atop a mast."

--"Lance Charge Mastery: A combat technique belonging to barbarian noble knights. When charging with lances, they can kill in a single strike. Even heavily armored units cannot withstand the full-force blow of a lance."

He had not seized any particularly powerful abilities recently.

Perhaps it was because he had not encountered any true experts. He had merely accumulated small gains, raising his basic combat skills by a tiny amount.

However, the projection page under God's Eye View had also undergone some special changes.

--"Combat Formation—Wedge Formation [Command Skill]: A combat technique of barbarian noble knights. The Human Form can use commands to have the cavalry under his command form a Wedge Formation. The power of a cavalry formation depends on the overall strength of its combat units, as well as their training and discipline. Can only command troops that obey orders."

--"Combat Formation—Square Formation [Command Skill]: One of the standard basic formations."

--"Combat Formation—Diamond Formation [Command Skill]: A formation of the Macedonian Light Cavalry. It can respond to enemies coming from any direction and avoid falling into a disadvantage. Requires commanded troops to possess relatively high training and discipline."

--"Combat Formation—Circular Formation [Command Skill]: One of the standard mounted archery formations."

Battlefield command ability?

Duncan examined the formations page. It was mainly divided into three types: cavalry, infantry, and archers. Among them, cavalry had more tactical formations. He did not know whether that was because he had killed quite a few barbarian noble knights today.

Infantry had very few formations: loose and tight formations, as well as Rome's standard Shield Wall and Testudo Formation. The latter required a higher level of training.

There was not much to say about archers. There was little room for command.

More advanced coordination between infantry shields and archers was not yet possible. He probably had not seized the corresponding command skills, and it also required very high discipline to support it.

"None of the tactical command benefits from my own abilities."

"It all depends on the combat units' training and discipline."

In other words, if Duncan gave orders to a group of farmers with no training or discipline, they would still be a chaotic mess.

His talents affected himself more and could not influence others.

Duncan searched for quite a while but found no mark related to a "commander" ability. It seemed that, when it came down to actual performance on the battlefield, what mattered was still the soldiers' military quality.

However, once a unit had been organized, he could see an additional notation for discipline.

If it bore a "Discipline" notation, that meant the unit possessed relatively high military quality and was not merely a rabble carrying weapons.

Training, discipline, and morale.

That was everything on the tactical command page of the projection screen. Meeting those three conditions meant it was a legion capable of serving as a main combat force.

"In the end, it still depends on what kind of soldiers you recruit."

Duncan had yet to truly command an army. The battle against the Exile Rebels could only be considered a minor skirmish. If they truly encountered a regular army, the Exile Rebels would be destined to be crushed.

If the exiles were to be put to use in building an army, they would have to be reorganized. Units with combat capability needed to be gathered together and formed into new combat formations.

"Another idea is to build an elite force."

"Pick out those formidable people marked One-Star and Two-Star, mix them directly into a legion, and it could have extremely strong combat power as well."

But once they took the battlefield, individual strength was weakened, making armor especially important.

Everyone was fragile. Without armor and shields, even a Two-Star Powerhouse would still die after a few strikes.

"First, let's see what Anya plans to do next."

"If she can get Duke of Tintagel to take the initiative and invite us to help, the Exiles Legion being reorganized at the stronghold can be brought over openly."

In the battle against the Exile Rebels, Duncan had crushed a noble's Private Legion.

Most of the spoils taken at the time had been food, but there was also enough Imperial Field Army equipment to arm over thirty people. The Imperial Field Army's scale armor was of solid quality. Combined with the weapons and equipment the exiles already possessed, putting together a mixed mercenary force of around two hundred men would not be a problem.

The number of exiles in the Empire's western regions was enormous. As the barbarians launched their massive invasion, the number of displaced people would only continue to grow.

Because the barbarians needed slaves as well.

As long as Anya could secure a piece of land, even just in name, they could easily relocate people there. He would not dare claim too much, but recruiting over ten thousand people would be effortless.

Duncan's foundation was still far too weak.

Within the Empire, this small number of people could not stir up much trouble. But on Britain Island, a force of several hundred or a thousand men could influence the overall situation.

By then, they could simply gather some cannon fodder and claim to have an army of over ten thousand.

The troop numbers in historical wars had always been heavily inflated. There were not many true professional soldiers.

At this stage, Duncan still needed to focus on improving his personal strength. If the opportunity arose, he could consider helping Duke of Tintagel repel this Saxon invasion first.

Duke of Tintagel had suffered a crushing defeat today. Within a day or two at most, the Saxon army would launch a full-scale invasion.

The smaller the battlefield, the more advantageous it is for me right now.

Under God's Eye View.

Duncan had his consciousness control his Human Form to rest. Then his brow suddenly furrowed. In the projected image, a unit marked "Familiar" appeared outside the castle.

— Familiar - Night Owl (One-Star) (Animal Form) [Neutral].

Hm?

Duncan had not expected to encounter another supernatural unit so soon. He rose and picked up his war bow. After hesitating for a moment, he quietly knocked on Raven Queen Triss's door.

Professional matters should be handled by professionals.

Duncan was quite self-aware in this regard. Even as a ruler, he would probably only be able to follow Liu Bang's example and make the best use of people's talents. If he had to do it himself, killing people was likely the only thing he excelled at.

He might be capable of leading troops into battle, but if he truly had to manage military logistics and local administration, he would probably struggle.

He was better suited to being a fierce general like Xiang Yu.

In this encounter with Duke of Tintagel, Anya's methods were clearly more seasoned than his.

The door opened.

Raven Queen Triss smiled sweetly, but the instant she saw Duncan carrying a war bow, her expression changed slightly. "What happened?"

Duncan lowered his voice. "Something is going on outside."

"I saw a Night Owl that seemed a little off. It has already circled this place several times."

Raven Queen Triss stood up and said solemnly, "Take me to see it."

Duncan's spiritual senses were extraordinary.

Especially when it came to sensing danger, Raven Queen Triss trusted him without question.

"Not a Druid."

A Rune Stone appeared in Raven Queen Triss's palm. Her eyes seemed to pierce the darkness as she spotted the Familiar. She said gravely, "It's a Familiar summoned by a Wizard."

"A creature that does not belong to the real world."

At this, she explained softly, "Only very powerful Wizards can summon creatures that do not belong to reality."

"On Britain Island, I'm afraid there is only one Wizard capable of that."

Merlin!

When Raven Queen Triss had been in Parisii, she had also contacted Anya through some unknown method. Duncan had not known how she had sent the message at the time and had assumed she controlled wild birds.

A creature that did not belong to the real world?

Were there other planes as well?

That made sense.

The Valkyrie he had seen through God's Eye View today had clearly not belonged within the scope of the real world either.

This was Britain Island, home to Avalon in the Mist.

Supernatural powers were clearly more common here.

Raven Queen Triss explained, "Merlin is a Cambion, half human and half demon. He was born with powerful magic."

"Only he can summon Familiars."

Duncan only half understood. He instinctively glanced at Triss before him. Merlin was half human and half demon, so what was she?

She too had been born with powerful supernatural abilities.

At that moment, Raven Queen Triss seemed to have guessed Duncan's thoughts. Her expression hesitated slightly, but she still said softly, "I have banshee blood in me."

As she spoke, she could not help watching Duncan's expression.

Banshee.

Banshees did not have a good reputation in this era. Her bloodline also leaned more toward that of a Nightmare Banshee, renowned for bewitching men. That was why she had become a Priest who had taken the Vow of Chastity, serving the Virgin Goddess of Polytheism.

She had laid her cards on the table.

Raven Queen Triss wanted to see Duncan's attitude toward her origins—whether he would be afraid of or wary of the legendary banshees.

But Duncan's expression was rather subtle at that moment, even somewhat excited.

That discovery made Raven Queen Triss's cheeks flush slightly.

The Familiar circled the castle once before quickly vanishing into the pitch-black night. No one knew what Merlin was observing through it.

At the same time.

In a region of Britain Island near Wales, an elderly Wizard appeared in the wilderness.

"Gorlois isn't dead."

There was a trace of regret on Merlin's face. He sighed softly, knowing that the future in the prophecy had changed again.

He was a Wizard exceptionally skilled in prophecy.

Or rather, he himself had been following the possible futures revealed in prophecy, waiting for King Arthur's birth.

Merlin had foretold Duke of Tintagel's death. The best outcome, of course, was for him to die at the hands of the Saxons. That way, King Uther would not need to act. As long as King Uther married the duke's widow, he could unite the Britons.

But he had not died.

Then Merlin could only wait for the second prophecy: Duke of Tintagel would accidentally die in the power struggle with King Uther.

A Wizard skilled in prophetic magic could easily become deeply trapped within his own countless prophecies.

A Prophecy Monster was bound to die by prophecy!

What Merlin was doing now was bringing about the prophecy he wished to see. Igraine was already carrying Britain Island's future king. The next step was to ensure that King Arthur was born and grew up safely.

Because Merlin had already foreseen King Uther's death.

Duke of Tintagel would die.

King Uther would die as well.

After years of chaos, Britain Island would welcome its greatest king.

That was the future from prophecy he desired most.

But now, every prophecy had been thrown into disarray.

Someone was about to flip the table!

Why make things so complicated over a mere remote Province of the Empire? Duncan was prepared to slaughter his way straight through it.