The Next King

After several days of marching, King Uther and his army reached the north of Britain, a region already occupied by the Saxons, and began their campaign.

Striking down those who were like him proved even easier than Anno had imagined. All he had to do was draw his longsword across a neck, and the Saxons were no different from Goblins and Orcs. The only troublesome part was that Anno also had to cut off the left ears of the enemies he killed and claim them as proof of his achievements. (There's no historical basis for this; just treat it as an alternate setting.)

The knights under King Uther were formidable. In less than a week, they had reclaimed three cities. Yet Anno, a powerful warrior already respected by everyone in the army, felt increasingly uneasy.

The instigator of this war had yet to appear.

Anno's face was frighteningly grim, and so was the face of the king he served—Uther.

He knew better than anyone how terrifying his brother was. The knights couldn't possibly defeat him—not even Anno.

Perhaps only he, as the king of Britain, would be worthy of raising his sword against him.

Uther's heart sank.

But the other knights knew nothing of this. They laughed as they slew the Saxons who had invaded their homeland, happily cutting off their enemies' ears.

At last, Britain's unstoppable army had cleared out nearly all the Saxons. Only one final city remained.

On the night before the siege, King Uther summoned Merlin, Anno, and a knight named Ector.

Merlin was the court mage and King Uther's most trusted confidant. Anno was a rising star in the army, his impressive martial skills earning him great renown. He was also well acquainted with Merlin. As for Sir Ector, he was a veteran knight of formidable strength and one of King Uther's trusted men.

By the time Anno arrived at this city, his unease had reached its peak.

Inside King Uther's tent, the four men wore very different expressions.

King Uther looked sorrowful. Merlin remained calm, even smiling. Sir Ector seemed puzzled, while Anno's brow was furrowed.

The atmosphere was heavy.

At last, King Uther spoke first. "Merlin, after this battle, I may either die outright or have little time left to live."

Merlin didn't respond, but Sir Ector, a man of about forty, grew agitated. "Your Majesty, why would you say that?" As far as he could tell, their campaign to drive out the Saxons had been a great success. Why would the king say something so bleak?

Merlin sighed. "Your Majesty, is there anything I can do for you?"

Uther rose and paced restlessly. "My daughter, Morgan le Fay, is far too jealous. She cannot become king."

At this, Anno's eyes took on an odd look, and a sudden, inexplicable pain struck his head.

"I want you, Merlin, to help me create a king who is born superior to all others—a king who carries my blood!" King Uther's eyes were bloodshot. He did not expect to defeat Vortigern himself, but for Britain's sake, he had to find a way to kill him.

His plan was to trade his life for a wound, buying Britain some time. During that time, he would raise a king who could fight that monster.

"Only the king of Britain can kill that monster. I'm too weak, so I can only place my hopes in the next generation," King Uther said to himself. "When the next king is born, I'll have him raised in your home, Ector."

"As for you, Anno..." Uther turned to him. "You may be the only one worthy of joining this battle."

"Will you come into the city with me the day after tomorrow?"