Vortigern, King Uther

Before the expedition.

King Uther had assembled an army of ten thousand, intending to drive the despicable Saxons out once and for all, and to settle things with his own brother, the Vile King Vortigern.

Anno did not know much about the Vile King Vortigern; in fact, he knew nothing at all, having only gleaned a few pieces of information from Merlin.

He was a terrifying existence capable of transforming into a white dragon, known as Britain itself; to be his enemy was to be the enemy of Britain.

Regarding this claim, the Vile King's younger brother, the Knight King Uther of Britain, expressed nothing but disdain, dismissing him as a mere rat who had failed to seize the throne, a creature whose brain was filled with nothing but muscle.

Anno followed behind King Uther, standing in line with several other guardian knights to protect the King ahead.

Britain revered martial prowess, and as King, Uther was expected to lead from the front, charging ahead of the rest.

Watching the orderly army, Anno felt a surge of heroic spirit rising within him.

Yet, beneath that heroism lay a trace of resistance and confusion. Although his hands had been stained with blood over the past year, it had almost entirely been the blood of orcs and goblins. Now that he stood within this army, it meant he was about to turn his blade against his own kind.

Uther delivered a mobilization speech that Anno found entirely devoid of substance, yet it drew a thunderous response from the army, sending morale soaring.

King Uther and the knights vaulted onto their horses, leading the army as they galloped away.

In the north, a certain city.

A castle.

A gaunt man sat within the castle.

He rested his chin in his hand, eyes closed, drifting between sleep and wakefulness.

Though he showed slight signs of age, his aura remained formidable.

He had usurped the will of Britain, existing as Britain itself, yet he had invited the covetous gaze of the Saxons upon the land, attempting to subvert the orthodox line. He was long since something inhuman, a base king, the Demon Dragon Vortigern.

That was the nature of his existence.

A Saxon trembled as he entered the castle to report to Vortigern: "My King, the knights have departed from Camelot."

Vortigern's eyes snapped open, so terrifying that the Saxon soldier collapsed to the floor.

Vortigern paid him no mind, rising to his feet and walking to the window. He gazed toward Camelot in the distance, a chilling smile curling his lips.

"You have come, my brother, Uther." Madness flickered in Vortigern's eyes.

While riding his horse during the march, Anno suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, and his right eyelid twitched uncontrollably.

This feeling is...

He suddenly sensed that this war would not be as simple as it seemed.

Merlin noticed Anno's unease but merely smiled, not taking it to heart.

In the futures he had observed, King Uther, even after exhausting nearly all his power and mystery, had only managed to fight the Vile King to a draw. What right did Anno, whose only connection to mystery was the enchanted armor he wore, have to participate in this clash of mysteries?

However, nothing is ever set in stone, is it?

Merlin only cared for humanity as a whole; he did not concern himself with individual humans—unless, of course, they were beautiful maidens, with whom Merlin was always happy to converse.

The only individual human Merlin cared about, in any timeline, was always the same: King Arthur—Artoria Pendragon.

Only that King was worthy of the Magician of Flowers' attention.