Power of the Gods! Leading the Charge!

The good news was that Severus had returned.

Duncan now had another capable hand at his side. Severus seemed to have only just heard some rumors about Duncan and could not help asking, "You went to Avalon?"

Duncan waved for the others to withdraw, leaving only Raven Queen Triss behind. He nodded solemnly. "Mm."

Severus seemed hesitant to speak, but in the end he slowly said, "I'll find a way to contact the Druid Order in Britain. They should be willing to offer support."

In fact, the Druid Order in Britain had already acted in secret.

After pondering for a moment, Duncan said, "All right."

"Your identity is well suited for dealing with them. See if you can recruit a few more Gaulish Vow Warriors."

Cú Chulainn's combat ability was truly formidable.

Once he put on armor and took up a sword and shield, he could fight five or six ordinary soldiers by himself. With a few more experts like him, Duncan could form a small Vanguard Battalion squad.

Severus nodded. "I'll leave tomorrow."

Before departing, however, he looked at Duncan before him, hesitated for a moment, and slowly asked, "Do you know about the Druid Sacrificial Stone?"

The Druid Sacrificial Stone?

Duncan looked puzzled, listening intently.

Severus glanced at Raven Queen Triss, seemingly gauging her attitude. Only after seeing that Triss gave no response did he gather his courage and say, "It is an ancient faith of the Celtic Gods."

"A sacred site of worship for the Gaulish tribes."

"These sanctuaries possess very unusual abilities. They can allow trained soldiers to receive the blessing of the Power of the Gods."

A blessing from the gods?

Duncan looked astonished and turned toward Raven Queen Triss. She gave a slight nod, indicating that Severus was telling the truth.

Severus continued, "These sanctuaries that serve the gods require priests to maintain their power."

"One of their most important functions is training armies."

"Different deities possess different Divine Domain Sanctuaries. Some excel at forging better weapons and armor, some can grant courage and fill warriors with fighting spirit, but most are used to train and hone the combat skills of warriors."

The great affairs of a state lay in ritual and war.

Although the Celtic traditional faith and worship had been destroyed by the Roman Empire, with Britain Island and Avalon still existing, Druid Sacrificial Stones could still serve a certain purpose as long as they were built.

Raven Queen Triss was the true authority in this regard.

After all, the temples of Diana and Artemis could train exceptional archers. This corresponded to the divine domain of [Hunting], and the priests serving these goddesses could receive the supernatural blessings of the Divine Domain Sanctuary.

Before The Church became the state religion of the empire, the temples of the Roman Empire all possessed additional blessings from the authority of the gods, often manifestations of their core divine domains' influence upon the real world.

This further made the early Romans exceptionally warlike!

In the era before the Common Era, Toutatis, the God of War of the Gauls, had been destroyed and devoured. Abnoba, the Goddess of Hunting, had been destroyed and devoured. The God of Wine, the God of Forging, the God of Horse Racing, and all the others who held their respective divine domains had all been absorbed by the Roman Gods, leaving not even a trace of their former faces behind.

The gods of Ancient Rome only merged with the gods of Ancient Greece, considering them a continuation of the civilized age. As for the gods of other barbarians, they were mostly exterminated without mercy!

These obscure Celtic branch gods—the Gaulish gods—had more or less all died out. Perhaps the Pantheon still held a memorial tablet for them, but their worship had long since been severed.

During the same period, the situation in the East was much the same.

During the Han Dynasty, Celestial Master Zhang Daoling entered Bashu, met with the Eight Ghost Marshals, battled countless ghosts and gods, subdued heretical demons, and established the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice, the predecessor of Taoism.

This was an act of destroying mountains and temples, sweeping away ghostly gods sustained by blood sacrifice.

In that battle, Zhang Daoling had more or less eradicated the indigenous Shamanic Cult beliefs of Bashu!

The existence of the Celtic branch, the Gaulish gods, was equivalent to the primitive "Shamanic Cult" in the eyes of the empire.

Civilized assimilation, destroying old faiths, and spreading the gods of Ancient Rome.

The Gaulish branch and the moderate Druids had only gradually transformed into a civilized branch after being thoroughly beaten down by the Roman Empire.

Avalon was likewise a new faith formed by the transformation of moderates. It had emerged only a few centuries ago, which was why its Guardian Fairies so closely resembled the Nymphs of Ancient Greece.

The brutal branch of that faith remained in Ireland, where they were regarded at the time as bloodthirsty barbarians.

As the ages advanced, civilization brought enlightenment and eradicated primitive Shamanic Cults.

During the era of Chinese feudal lords, human blood sacrifices were also common. Ximen Bao Governing Ye, from elementary school textbooks, belonged to the age of the Shamanic Cult.

When Taoism eradicated the primitive Shamanic Cults, the early Taoist proselytizers directly called for reinforcements, shouting, "Taishang Laojun, by urgent decree!" They personally took up swords and went into battle to cut people down. They killed shamans, they killed ghosts and gods—their style was completely unlike that of modern Taoists.

It was only after Zhang Jiao of the Way of Supreme Peace that Taoism became much more restrained. At the very least, it stopped rebelling so often.

"If the sanctuaries of the Celtic Gods all possess supernatural blessings..."

"Then what about the gods of Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece?"

At this thought, Duncan could not help looking toward Raven Queen Triss for an answer. No one understood the divine authorities of the gods better than the High Priestess of Imperial Polytheism.

Inside the tent.

Raven Queen Triss let out a faint sigh.

She gazed at Duncan before her and softly said, "Severus is indeed correct."

"But drawing on the Power of the Gods would inevitably invite The Church's hostility."

"I don't want you getting caught up in disputes of faith."

To borrow the power of the gods, he would have to plant a banner, erect a temple, and rebuild a deity's sacred domain.

Avalon had not yet perished completely.

If Duncan put up a Druid Sacrificial Stone, The Church might not care much, or even bother intervening. After all, it was merely a dying sect making its last struggle. But if he built a Temple dedicated to Diana, The Church would think the Roman Gods were making a comeback.

The implications of the two were entirely different. Diana's faith was far more likely to draw attention.

Raven Queen Triss only wanted to protect herself. She did not want Duncan taking such a risk and summoning back the Roman Gods. The danger involved was simply too great.

At some point, Duncan's safety had become more important to her than the continued existence of Diana's faith.

Dimensional Space.

Duncan suddenly entered God's Eye View. Then everything in the projected display changed, as though Dimensional Space had captured certain supernatural laws from the real world.

A row of text appeared on the projection.

--"Faith faction unlocked."

--"Avalon Faith (Celtic Pantheon branch)!"

A unique faith emblem appeared on the projected display.

--"Avalon Sacrificial Stone (Primary Sanctuary): Avalon in Celtic Mythology is the Land of the Otherworld. The ancient Druid faith carries legends of the soul's immortality, reincarnation, and rebirth. This sacrificial stone, dedicated to the Avalon Sanctuary, can strengthen warriors' fighting spirit and make them less afraid of death.

The Land of the Otherworld is also a realm where souls undergo reincarnation and rebirth.

The souls of fallen believers will enter Avalon in the Mist, just as Germanic Warriors enter Valhalla of the Norse Pantheon after dying in battle.

This Temple sanctuary grants affected Celtic Warriors a permanent +1 morale. They will face death more bravely."

[The sanctuary's enhancement effects strengthen along with the Temple, rituals, and faith.]

Interesting.

No wonder the Germanic Barbarians were so fearless in battle!

If that was the case, then did the Viking Sanctuary of the Germanic Barbarians—the sanctuary dedicated to Odin, chief god of the Norse Pantheon—also grant a permanent increase to morale?

After all, in Norse Mythology, a warrior's life was only complete if he died in battle. Germanic Barbarians rarely died of old age.

In fact, because of this requirement to die in battle, after the Duchy of Normandy was established, the entire people directly converted to Christianity, beginning the Christianization of the Vikings. It was practically like raiding the Norse Pantheon's own homeland.

"Only one was unlocked?"

On the faith page, Duncan saw only Avalon Faith under Celtic Mythology. The faith of the Norse Pantheon had not been unlocked, while the faiths of Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece had already died out. As for the faith of The Church, it likely had not been triggered because it had nothing to do with him.

"The power of this world's pantheons and faiths can provide certain enhancements, but they aren't decisive factors."

Duncan quickly realized this.

Even if he built an Avalon Sacrificial Stone sanctuary, that slight morale boost might not match the effect of personally inspiring the army on the battlefield. At best, it was better than nothing.

Raven Queen Triss clearly did not want him to provoke the powerful Church for that tiny bit of Power of the Gods from a sanctuary's blessing.

The deities could not descend in person, anyway.

This little boost from sanctuary faith was inferior to better weapons and equipment, stricter military training, and more capable commanders. The returns were not particularly great, while the risks were enormous.

If faith-based blessings were truly that powerful, Zhang Jiao's Yellow Turban Army of the Way of Supreme Peace would not have failed.

Yellow Turban Warriors could be regarded as special troops of Temple sanctuaries. Britain Island had them too: the Gaulish Vow Warriors of Celtic sanctuaries, the Druid Order, Gaulish Totem Warriors, and so on.

Though they were formidable in combat, their numbers were too small to determine the outcome of major campaigns.

"The Franks seem to have trained a group of Frankish Paladins with the support of the Ascetic Order."

Duncan immediately understood what Raven Queen Triss meant.

The Witch was thinking about his future.

He nodded slightly. "Don't worry."

"I'll be careful."

For the time being, Duncan did not intend to choose a faith faction. What he wanted was to gain a firm foothold on Britain Island, not get prematurely entangled in religious conflict. He could make use of Avalon Faith, but making it the state religion was out of the question.

Now he understood.

As long as he prospered in the real world, then whatever deity or pantheon faction it was, they would still have to act according to his mood!

The fairies of Avalon were clearly clinging to him, using his Legendary Points to sustain the faith's foundation, which was already on the verge of collapse, and thereby resist the Norse Pantheon faith brought by the Germanic Barbarians' invasion.

That also meant that as long as Duncan himself became strong enough, even the Norse Pantheon would have to bow to him in the real world!

Night fell.

Anya was truly ravenous.

Though they had deliberately avoided disturbing the others, Duncan still had no choice but to cover the beautiful Witch's mouth in the end.

Anyway, he was standing up and pedaling.

Fortunately, the Medieval Era was relatively open-minded. It was only after The Church unified the faith that things gradually became more conservative. People of this time still retained a bit of the Roman spirit and were fairly tolerant of such matters. The Germanic Barbarians loved their drink; once drunk, they fought and brawled, then a whole crowd would drunkenly fool around without caring that there were others in the Hall of Warriors. Some even clapped and cheered, praising the mighty men.

If Duncan ever had the chance to visit a Germanic Barbarian tavern, he would hear the Bards and warriors singing songs whose lyrics were truly something else.

The night grew deeper.

Raven Queen-Triss released the messenger in her hand. She turned to look at Duncan's tent, sighed softly, and clenched the Diana Sacrificial Stone in her flushed hand.

She was summoning the other members of the Witch Coven.

Now that they had a base, it was time to gather the exiled witches.

Raven Queen-Triss did not entirely trust Anya, because Anya had far too many little schemes. But the fairies of Avalon had suddenly latched onto Duncan, which immediately put her on high alert.

Compared to the somewhat scheming Anya, the fairies of Avalon were undoubtedly more dangerous. Of two evils, she chose the lesser: let Anya have her fill first, lest Duncan be bewitched again by those lake nymphs.

She was not afraid that Duncan would be seduced; she feared that the fairies of Avalon wanted to use him to achieve some unspeakable goal.

Triss had never even considered pushing Duncan out to oppose The Church. She could not let those crafty Ladies of the Lake beguile and deceive him, turning him, without his realizing it, into Avalon's secular guardian and setting him against The Church's Ascetic Order forces.

Noden's Bow was in his hands. Anyone with eyes could tell that Duncan was connected to Avalon.

This was an open scheme.

Avalon was using Duncan's legend to recover a sliver of its vitality.

War drums thundered within the tent.

A nineteen-year-old lad, yet already so peerlessly fierce—his fire was simply too strong.

Raven Queen-Triss bore the Vow of Chastity, so there were many things she could not do. It was not that she absolutely could not do them; rather, once she did, she would no longer be able to wield Diana's power.

For those Virgin Goddesses required chaste Priests to draw upon even a trace of divine power.

Everything had only just begun.

Whether for Duncan's sake or her own, Raven Queen-Triss had to hold the line. At critical moments, she would still need the power of those goddesses to turn the tide. In this age at the end of mythology, among the Ancient Roman Pantheon and Ancient Greek Pantheon factions, only those few Virgin Goddesses still possessed a little remaining power of faith.

If Raven Queen-Triss broke her Vow of Chastity, she would lose the strength to directly contend against those beings who were "holy in name."

Those Virgin Goddesses had divine offices officially recognized, and they protected unmarried maidens.

But it was not as though there were no other options.

The next day.

After Duncan led the army out, Raven Queen-Triss found Anya looking lazy and satisfied, and unceremoniously gave her waist and hips a light flick with a whip.

"Triss?!..."

The flush left over from last night still lingered on Anya's seductive face. She had just been about to rise in anger, but the moment she saw Raven Queen-Triss's faintly smiling expression, her spirit immediately wilted.

No!

I just made a huge contribution, and you're still whipping me? Does that mean my contribution was for nothing?

At that thought, Anya's momentum surged. She was just about to climb up and revolt, facing Triss head-on, when the Raven Queen narrowed her eyes slightly and brushed her fingers through the air. Anya's entire body stiffened on the spot, and half of her body went numb.

She simply could not beat her!

With a casual trick, Raven Queen-Triss could pin this delicate Roman noblewoman in place.

Sob, sob, sob!

With the appearance of someone on the verge of tears, Anya lowered her head pitifully. "Lady Triss, I was wrong."

A wise man did not fight when the odds were against him.

Besides, she had only just eaten her fill yesterday, while Raven Queen-Triss was still hungry—hungry for many years. There had to be resentment in her heart; perhaps she would vent it on Anya. Anya knew more about the Raven Queen's background: it was said that she carried a trace of Circe's bloodline.

Raven Queen-Triss slowly sat down, appraising Anya, who was covered in a rosy flush, from head to toe. She said flatly, "Put your clothes on properly."

"Don't wear that court gown from yesterday outside."

"What a disgrace!"

Within the Ancient Roman Pantheon, the sects of those Virgin Goddesses were relatively conservative, while the sect of Venus—or Aphrodite—was more open. Its followers dressed rather modernly; sometimes, what they wore was more alluring than wearing nothing at all.

When early Sanctuaries of Aphrodite held rituals, even modern people would blush at the women's attire, which emphasized the enchanting beauty of the female form.

Hearing this, Anya said aggrievedly, "Yes, Lady Triss."

She was an ostentatious person. She liked power, liked being the center of attention, and liked displaying her charm.

Now Raven Queen-Triss had cut off one of her paths.

A breeze drifted past.

Raven Queen-Triss raised a hand slightly, and Anya's numb body returned to normal. Her opponent not only possessed Diana's power, but also a portion of the power of deities such as Trivia (Hecate) and Artemis.

She had no chance of beating her at all!

How infuriating!

The tent flap closed by itself. Raven Queen-Triss looked down at Anya with a deep, unreadable gaze. Her expression was hesitant and slightly awkward, but she still said softly, "Tell me about the Cult of Aphrodite's methods for pleasing a lover."

Hm?

Key elements detected.

Anya was no fool either. Her eyes immediately widened as she stared at Triss in shock, stammering, "You want to... circumvent the Vow of Chastity?..."

The Raven Queen—Triss—flushed crimson, with none of her initial lofty arrogance remaining.

She noticed Anya sizing her up, her gaze quite openly lingering back and forth over her voluptuous curves. Triss immediately gave a cold snort and narrowed her long phoenix eyes slightly, making Anya shudder all over.

Once her surprise passed, Anya immediately got a mischievous idea.

Serves you right for bullying me!

Anya did her best to keep her expression stern so the other woman would not notice, but inwardly, she was already overjoyed.

Now you're in my hands.

Anya tilted her head slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching as she forcibly suppressed her rising smile. When she turned back, she wore an expression of utmost sincerity.

I have to win this round back!

At the same time.

Duncan had already led his troops toward Dorset, because he had received some rather troubling military news that morning.

Gil had rushed over through the night with his men and reported in a panic, "Lord Duncan!"

"This is bad."

"Yesterday, Duke of Tintagel led his army into battle against the Saxon Pirates. The duke led the guard knights around the rear to charge the enemy formation, but the Saxon Archers struck him with several arrows in succession!"

"Fortunately, the guard knights covered him at the risk of their lives and got him back safely, but his injuries are severe and he is bedridden."

What the hell?

He had been perfectly fine just two days ago, even reclaiming a piece of territory. How had he been shot so badly today?

Duncan quickly rose and asked, "Is Duke of Tintagel all right?"

Don't suddenly die. At least hold on until I establish myself!

Gil's expression was complicated. "His injuries are serious."

"But fortunately, they are not life-threatening."

That was good.

Duncan could not help letting out a breath of relief.

No, wait.

Didn't he know his own capabilities?

Duncan was this strong and still did not dare charge straight into an enemy formation. Duke of Tintagel was only a plain One-Star unit, so why was he trying to imitate some fierce general and lead a charge himself?

After asking around, Duncan quickly learned what had happened.

It had to be said that Duke of Tintagel had improved considerably. In this battle, he had actually seized the opportunity: first defeating a unit of Saxon Pirate Riders head-on, then circling around to strike the Saxon Pirates' right flank from the side and rear while the battle was deadlocked.

Tactically speaking, there had been nothing wrong with his decision.

Duke of Tintagel had become much bolder and more daring than before.

The problem was that a cavalry charge was like a red-hot iron rod slicked with lubricant—steaming hot and needing to punch straight through the enemy in one go. Ideally, it should drive in from the side or rear to form a pincer attack, leaving the enemy unable to attend to both front and back. That would easily create chaos, followed by a collapse in morale.

But Duke of Tintagel had thrust in without breaking through. Worse still, he had charged in and could not charge back out.

In a cavalry charge.

The front line needed fierce warriors to clear the way. Duke of Tintagel's spearhead simply was not sharp enough. The cavalry he led punched in but failed to punch through, becoming trapped amidst the chaotic melee.

Then the Saxon Elite Forest Hunters set their sights on him.

Duke of Tintagel was struck by six arrows, with several more embedded in his shield. Had the armor he wore not been of such exceptional quality—a standard nobleman's heavy scale armor, with protection for his neck, shoulders, and waist—he would probably have died on the spot long ago.

In the end, the guard knights rescued him at the risk of their lives, but he became bedridden after returning.

He would not die.

But he had taken an arrow in the buttock, one in the thigh, three in the chest and back, and another had struck the iron helmet on his head, nearly taking him away on the spot.

With injuries this severe, Duke of Tintagel could no longer continue commanding the army.

Cornwall was only a territory the size of a county town. Duke of Tintagel had no sons, only three daughters, and none of his subordinates were generals or commanders capable of standing on their own. Thus, the first person he thought to ask for help was Duncan. He had even sent his retainer rider, Gil, over. The situation could now only depend on Duncan stepping in to stabilize it.

Duncan had no choice but to go now.

If Duke of Tintagel suffered another crushing defeat, Duncan would likely have to face the main force of the Saxon Barbarians himself.

In truth, Duke of Tintagel could originally have fought this battle to a draw. He had simply overestimated his own martial strength.

It took at least a Two-Star powerhouse to lead cavalry in a forceful charge. No matter the era, cavalry charges were led by a fierce general; otherwise, the spearhead could not achieve the intimidating effect needed to break the enemy.

A burst of pounding hoofbeats rang out.

Duncan rode ahead with his men, followed by Clegane, Cú Chulainn, and the others. There were sixteen cavalrymen in all. The remaining infantry, led by Severus and Kevito, would need more than a day to arrive. Infantry marched very slowly in this era, and since they had departed in such haste, they still needed to find wagon teams and conscript laborers to transport the supplies and baggage.

In the age of cold weapons, provisions were of the utmost importance.

A man who went hungry for one day was already half useless.

Most of the sixteen riders were elites. After equipping fish-scale armor, Clegane had become a One-Star Silver-Gray combat unit.

On the way, Gil gave a rough account of the enemy's situation.

The man Duke of Tintagel had fought was not Horsa, King of Kent's younger brother. If he had run into Horsa, he would not have taken the initiative to attack. His opponent was one of the Germanic Barbarians' commanders, the Virgin Taker, Enfes. Hailed as a warrior among warriors, he was a barbarian commander famed for his ferocity. At the same time, his fondness for massacring cities and taking virgins had made him notorious across Britain Island. One of his most infamous deeds was demanding ten virgins by name when conquering a native tribe in Britain.

This man commanded an elite Chieftain Guard. He had started out as a Saxon Pirate in his early years and had also made a name for himself in naval raiding.

Hyah!

Duncan led sixteen riders straight toward Exeter. This was one of Devonshire's largest towns, protected by a relatively sturdy wooden wall. It resembled the northern towns of Calradia in Mount & Blade—a tall wall pieced together from logs, so there was no need to worry about fire.

Looking at it now, the Saxon Barbarians' earlier retreat might not have been due to his personal strength at all. They might have intended to lure the enemy deeper in, using a feigned defeat to draw Duke of Tintagel out.

Under God's Eye View.

Duncan had already seen the state of the battlefield.

Beneath Exeter's eastern gate, a group of Saxon Spearmen were pushing a Battering Ram against the gate. The town's defenses were far inferior to Cornwall's castle fortress, and the wooden gates were already on the verge of collapse.

--British Legion (Morale Shaken) (Heavy Casualties) (Commander Seriously Wounded).

--British Coastal Militia (Morale Shaken) (Commander Seriously Wounded) (Command in Chaos).

--Canti Auxiliary Legion (Morale Shaken) (No Command).

--British Militia (Low Morale) (Command in Chaos).

On the Strategic Map.

Although Duke of Tintagel's forces had not suffered many casualties, their morale had already been shaken. If this continued and the gates were breached, it would only be a matter of time before they fled in rout. Duke of Tintagel's army had suffered a narrow defeat in the field and could now only defend with their backs to Exeter. Fortunately, they still had a town to hold. Otherwise, they would never have lasted until Duncan arrived.

In the age of cold weapons, morale was extremely important. Once the main combat troops had died off, the other units would often rout on a large scale after suffering only ten or twenty percent casualties.

In the Medieval Era, only the main combat troops could withstand relatively high casualty rates.

If their morale was not salvaged soon, they would lose before long.

Duncan looked down over the entire battlefield.

He reined in his horse and glanced back at Cú Chulainn, Clegane, and the others behind him. In a low voice, he said, "Do you dare charge with me?!"

Clegane's blood instantly boiled as he roared, "Wherever you go, my lord, I'll go!"

Cú Chulainn said nothing, merely drawing his long blade.

All of them yearned to win glory, especially after following a valiant commander.

They could fight.

More than half of Duncan's sixteen riders possessed One-Star strength. Most were native noble riders, and their armor far surpassed that of the infantry. Even their horses wore simple protective gear.

"Follow me!"

He took the lead and charged down the slope!