A Decisive First Battle

The war had officially begun.

Facing Leon's advance, King Giramurius of Ireland first sent out warships to block Leon's vanguard.

But a band of British fishermen conscripted for the war defeated them. Kay led the vanguard in seizing the bay and docks, landing in Ireland, and establishing a foothold.

Ireland later sent out fewer than ten thousand soldiers to destroy the foothold, but Kay defeated them head-on. From then on, Leon's vanguard held a place in Ireland.

By the time Leon arrived with the main army, Kay had already built a camp and completed its defenses.

"Well done."

Leon felt that he had been right to trust Kay. He had completed the preliminary work beautifully, and now that Leon had landed on the island, Ireland had lost any chance of victory.

With Merlin's help, Leon knew exactly how Ireland's forces were deployed.

After briefly resting his troops, Leon sent Joe with a thousand-man unit to secure the sea route and its supplies, and assigned Canning another thousand-man unit to guard the camp. He would personally lead the rest of the army to confront King Giramurius's forces head-on.

On the Irish side, a string of defeats since the war began had cast a gloom over the Irish High King, nearly robbing him of all hope of victory.

But when he saw the Lion King from Britain appear before his thirty thousand troops with barely more than two thousand men, wild joy surged through him.

His side had thirty thousand men. Even if each spat once, they could drown the enemy. He immediately ordered a full assault, determined to settle the war in one battle and utterly crush the invaders from across the sea.

The sight of the seemingly endless enemy ranks shook Leon's troops, but their morale did not falter much. They still had the will to fight.

The commander of Great Britain's forces was none other than the invincible Lion King!

The soldiers still had saliva in their mouths and could grip their weapons steadily. The strict, targeted discipline drills they had undergone in peacetime had paid off. At that moment, the troops instinctively followed their training and calmly formed the battle lines they had practiced.

After six months of being tormented by paperwork and administrative duties, Leon could no longer contain his mounting excitement at the sight before him. His rough voice rang out across the battlefield.

"Follow me! The whole army, attack!"

Leon jumped down from his chariot and roared. Under the gaze of the assembled troops, he charged the enemy formation. The hundred-man unit guarding the great standard followed close behind, and when the thousand-man unit of his personal guards saw the standard move forward, they hurried after him.

Even mounted, his guards couldn't outrun Leon on foot. They watched their king plunge into the enemy ranks like a tiger among sheep, tearing a huge gap through the enemy in an instant.

Leon felt the smooth resistance as his spear pierced an enemy's body and the thrill of his blade tearing through flesh. The battlefield's bloodlust and murderous aura washed over him, and he greedily drew in a deep breath.

"Exhilarating."

This was what he wanted, what he had always yearned for. Handling government affairs and coordinating state matters had been pure hell for him.

Seeing Leon's valor, his guards' morale soared. They charged through the gap after him, splitting the enemy formation in two.

Leon deliberately slowed down, allowing the men behind him to catch up and regroup. With Leon at the head of his thousand-man unit, they surged through the enemy ranks, splitting them into smaller groups.

Ireland's thirty thousand troops were no elite army. They had been cobbled together from the forces of local petty kings. Their equipment was crude; only the chieftains and leaders wore armor. Some of the others didn't even have weapons, and had gone into battle carrying potato-digging hoes.

The army relied on individual bravery and had no discipline whatsoever. Now that they faced the even greater courage of Leon and the more battle-hardened British army, their weakness was laid bare at once.

As Leon broke into the enemy ranks, the other two thousand-man units followed the pre-battle plan. One blocked most of the enemy's escape routes, while the other swept in to cut off their retreat, building on the gains as Leon split the enemy formation.

Faced with Leon, who seemed to have descended from the heavens, the Irish forces' morale collapsed. Some broke down and stood waiting to die; others scrambled to flee the battlefield, while a few wept as they faced the oncoming blades.

Seeing the carnage, King Giramurius finally understood why the enemy had dared to attack his thirty thousand with a mere two thousand men.

Their armies weren't even on the same level. Add the Lion King, who seemed less than human, and the enemy had become all the more formidable. His side had no hope of victory.

Faced with defeat, he wanted to turn the tide, but there was nothing he could do. He could barely even save his own life.

A knight clad in purple armor was charging toward him alone.

This is my first battle following the Lion King. I must make a good showing!

The Knight of the Lake fixed his gaze on Ireland's commander. By taking the enemy general's head and capturing his banner, he would prove himself worthy of the king's favor—and answer those who envied and mocked him.

As he charged boldly into the enemy formation, the opposing general's guards stepped forward to stop him, but not one could withstand a single blow. He cut them down cleanly, forcing a gap through the enemy ranks, and reached the enemy commander in the blink of an eye.

King Giramurius hadn't even made out his face before the knight took his head with a single stroke.

Lancelot ignored the head of the enemy commander he had just cut down. He charged straight for the great standard, cut down the enemies who surrounded him, then slashed through the flagpole.

"Your commander is dead! Surrender at once!"

With Lancelot's feat of killing the general and capturing his banner, the enemy's morale collapsed completely. Even those who had occasionally put up stubborn resistance were shaken by the sight and lost all hope.

"Lay down your weapons! Surrender, and you'll be spared!"

The enemy soldiers Leon had split off were even more demoralized. One after another, they threw away their weapons, took off their armor, and knelt to surrender.

The knights didn't even have time to deal with them. They picked out a leader at random to manage the prisoners, told the captives to bind one another, then pressed on with the main force.

"Beautifully done!"

Leon had witnessed Lancelot's feat and couldn't help cheering for the noble knight.

He had planned to kill the enemy general himself, but Lancelot had gone alone and given him a wonderful surprise with his first strike.

No wonder he had spent so long recruiting this talent. He really had been right about him!

Leon had not yet finished splitting apart the enemy formation. Some of the enemy troops still retained a rudimentary chain of command and organization. When they saw their supreme commander cut down, they retreated again and again, trying to escape the battlefield.

But most of their escape routes had already been blocked by one of Leon's thousand-man units. A few smaller paths remained open, but they were nowhere near enough for so many people to flee.

They charged the blockade twice, but still couldn't break through.

With tigers and wolves before them and no way back, most of those who had witnessed Leon's might had already lost all morale. Only the desire to escape kept them going.

When Leon sent men to call out surrender terms and guarantee that those who gave themselves up would be spared, the enemy had no fight left in them. Their will broken, they surrendered at once.

Leon accepted their surrender, ordered his men to clear the battlefield and guard the prisoners, then waited for the supply troops to arrive.

"My king, Lancelot has fulfilled his mission."

Lancelot came over carrying a head. He stopped before Leon, knelt on one knee, and offered up the severed head.

"Haha! You truly are a peerless warrior. I'm fortunate to have you, very fortunate."

Leon helped Lancelot to his feet, and saw the sincerity in his expression and the light in his eyes.

"I'm not fit to hold a candle to you, my king. To have earned your regard is the greatest good fortune of my life."

Ever since Leon had taken notice of him, Lancelot had faced plenty of criticism from his fellow officers. After joining the army, he had stayed close by Leon's side and been free to enter the commander's tent whenever he wished, provoking even more envy. In their spare moments, some had sneered that he was a mere favorite who had risen through luck.

Though he had the skill to stand up to their slander, he hadn't wanted his reputation to suffer so badly, nor did he want the Lion King to be branded a poor judge of character.

By taking the enemy general's head and presenting it to the king, he had made those who once envied and slandered him afraid to look down on him. When he passed them, they didn't even dare raise their heads to meet his gaze; they only kept their eyes lowered.

Lancelot felt a rush of satisfaction from head to toe. At last, he had vented the frustration pent up in his chest and proved his ability. The king had not been wrong about him.