What caused the decline?

Sovell and Barghest continued toward Ector’s fief in Wales.

To avoid drawing attention, Sovell cast the concealment magecraft "Concealment" on Barghest, who was perched on his shoulder. Several layers of wind barriers wrapped around her, changing the refraction of light and rendering her invisible.

After all, a little black dog with burning horns and eyes was far too strange. Anyone could easily associate her with an ominous fairy like Barghest.

"Right now, we should be... here."

Sovell took out his map and pointed to a spot:

Connova County in the Elmont Region, nearly a hundred kilometers from Sir Ector's manor.

"We need to go faster. We have to reach the River Severn before sunset."

The River Severn was the longest river in Britain. It was nearly ten kilometers longer than Britain's "mother river," the River Thames, but far less famous.

The River Severn rose on the northeastern slopes of Plynlimon Mountain in Wales and ultimately flowed into the Bristol Channel in the Atlantic.

Once they reached the River Severn, they would be close to Sir Ector's territory.

Sovell's tone grew a little graver. The ceremony began at eight the next morning, so he had to reach the town where the Choosing the King would take place by tonight, no matter what.

"Girl, hold on tight. Time to pick up the pace!"

"Woof!"

Hiss-whoosh-

Sovell activated Dragonification. Dragon scales emerged all over his body, pushing his physical strength to its limit!

"Swift!"

Boom!

Anyone looking down at the forest from above would now have seen a silvery-white line cutting through the brown curtain of fallen leaves.

With Dragonification active, every step Sovell took left a deep crater in the ground!

In mere moments, Sovell had carried Barghest two or three kilometers farther.

Good, this should be fast enough!

As he thought this, Sovell steadied the "silly girl" on his shoulder with one hand and gathered wind blades in the other, slicing through the shrubs and brambles blocking his path.

As he traveled, Sovell could feel the concentration of magical energy in the atmosphere gradually rising by minuscule increments.

He knew this was a sign that he was about to enter Wales.

The Island of Britain was separated from continental Europe, which naturally made it easier for mystery to linger there.

According to the Western Magecraft System established by King Solomon fourteen hundred years earlier, Britannia was something like the planet's "navel."

This view was later adopted by Phantasmal Species capable of using magecraft, such as fairies, and had been passed down to Sovell and Artoria in the present day.

Wales was the region on the Island of Britain where the remnants of the Age of Gods were most intact, followed by Scotland. In England, the Age of Gods was fading fastest.

The decline of mystery on the Island of Britain was not solely due to the depletion of true ether in the atmosphere.

To some extent, it was also linked to the invasion of the Saxons from the continent.

There was a universal rule in magecraft systems: the fewer people who knew about or learned a particular magecraft, the more powerful it would be.

This was because the world of magecraft had a rather abstract concept known as "mystery dilution."

The concept held that the more people knew about or learned a particular mystery, the weaker that mystery would become.

The power of a spell depended not only on the mage's own aptitude, the length of the incantation, and the precision of the magecraft procedures.

A small part of it also depended on how many individuals had diluted that spell's "mystery."

For example, suppose "Fireball" was the first human magecraft created by King Solomon, and its mystery had a value of "fifty."

At that time, a Fireball cast by King Solomon would unleash the full power of that "fifty."

But if several more "King Solomons" learned about or mastered Fireball, none of their Fireballs would be able to unleash the full power of "fifty." They might only have a power of forty-nine.

Moreover, the more King Solomons learned it, the greater the mystery dilution, and the lower its power became.

Of course, the quantity of mystery could not be measured. The "fifty" units of mystery mentioned above were merely a way to better explain the abstract concept of "mystery dilution."

In short, the more people knew about a mystery, the weaker it became.

In fact, the effect of "mystery dilution" on a spell's power was less significant than adding a few more verses to its incantation or putting a little more magical energy into it.

As the saying went, with enough force, even a brick could fly. There really was some truth to that.

However, the concept of "mystery dilution" also applied to the decline of the Age of Gods.

Foreign invaders landed in Scotland and England and launched a massive invasion of Britain.

The Saxons learned of the wonders in both regions and trampled their lands. Thus, the invading Saxons encountered and came to know the mystery there, diluting it in the process.

Then the Saxons returned to the Netherlands peninsula and told others about it, spreading that mystery even further.

As barbarians from continental Europe, these foreigners also carried the continent's mystery, which eroded the British mystery they "possessed"-in other words, knew about.

Under these circumstances, the mystery of the Age of Gods on the Island of Britain gradually faded.

Because the Picts lived in Scotland, the foreign invaders had not penetrated deep into its interior, so mystery faded much more slowly there than in England.

Wales, where Sir Ector's territory lay, could be called the last untouched haven of the Age of Gods south of Hadrian's Wall on the Island of Britain.

Demonic beasts were more active there than in England or Scotland, but they were not particularly aggressive, because Wales had more resources to sustain them than other places.

If resources were not scarce, demonic beasts would not attack human territory just because they had nothing better to do and wanted to throw their lives away.

Thanks to his dragon blood, Sovell successfully reached the banks of the River Severn before sunset. However...

"One, two... thirty-two."

Sovell counted the people in the camp ahead, then drew Rhongomyniad. Invisible Air concealed the blade, and he cast concealment magecraft on himself before walking forward.

An army of foreign invaders!

Aside from the declining magical energy in the land reducing the yields of crops from the Age of Gods, foreign invasions were the other reason the people of the Island of Britain lived in hardship.

The invading armies took a large share of the wild vegetables, fruit, and game.

Moreover, wherever those armies invaded, they destroyed all the fields and orchards and burned every house to the ground.

After heading south from Orkney City, Sovell had encountered many Saxon armies camped in forests or on plains along the way.

Without exception, they had all died at Sovell's hands.

As for kneeling and surrendering?

Sorry, that was not an option.

Sovell had once discussed with Artoria whether they should accept the foreign invaders' surrender. Unlike Artoria, who agonized over the matter because of her chivalric ideals, he had no such hesitation.

Sovell had answered her decisively:

"Since they've resolved to invade the land beneath our feet and trample the people who live here,

they must also be prepared to die at the hands of those of us who protect it!"