At the north wall, all the messengers sounded the horns signaling the advance into the city.
The heavy cavalry, who had been waiting for so long, mounted their horses and charged into the city right behind Artoria and her two companions.
Behind them came thousands of infantry.
Once inside, the soldiers split into three forces.
Two headed east and west to attack the other gates, while the smaller force in the center secured the residential districts as quickly as possible to minimize unrest.
Before long, Londinium's eastern, western, and southern gates had all fallen.
It seemed the outcome of this decisive battle was already sealed.
But when Bedivere and Tristan handed command of the soldiers over to Agravain and led their personal guards into the Royal Palace...
What awaited them was not Artoria and her companions with Vortigern subdued, but a silver-white figure flying backward out of the palace.
Crash!!!
The guards saw the figure flash past their eyes.
The next instant, rubble scattered, and a human-shaped hole appeared in the palace wall behind them. Everyone looked through to the other side...
"Sir Sovell!"
"Lord Sovell?"
It was none other than Sovell, who had been knocked out of the Royal Palace.
"Cough, cough!"
Silver motes drifted from Sovell's body, clearly indicating that his dragonification had been broken.
He pushed himself up with his left hand and climbed back through the hole.
Ignoring the shock on everyone's faces, Sovell calmly spat out a mouthful of blood.
After wiping the corner of his mouth clean, he said to Bedivere and Tristan:
"Bedie, old Tristan, negotiations have broken down.
Now. Immediately. This instant.
Lead every soldier out of Londinium, and take the surrendered enemy troops and civilians with you. Figure out the evacuation yourselves. We can hold out for ten minutes at