Chapter Forty-Two: Raiding the Enemy's Homeland! (End of Sixth Watch)

Training, rewards, reorganization.

For those who could be saved, every effort was made to treat them; for those beyond help, a mercy strike was delivered.

War is cruel in this way.

Duncan’s army rested for a day in Exeter, then, after reorganization, he led over 2,600 men eastward, advancing toward the Dorset region held by the Saxons. Whether it was the two great victories rekindling the Britons’ courage to resist the Saxons, or Duncan’s growing legend inspiring others, more people began voluntarily bringing weapons and equipment to join his forces.

By the time Duncan took Dorset, his army had grown to over 3,000 men.

“The enemy has abandoned the city,” Krigan rode up and knelt on one knee before Duncan. “My lord, the Saxons have almost completely relinquished this place.”

“The main force has retreated to Hampshire.”

In the battle at Exeter, Duncan’s troops beheaded over a thousand enemies and captured six to seven hundred. Lacking cavalry to pursue the fleeing, approximately three thousand escaped.

Most of Duke Tintagel’s forces were militia and auxiliaries; Duncan dared not recklessly pursue, fearing the militia might break apart in disorder. Had there been a fresh unit, the number of captives might have reached one or two thousand, further expanding the victory.

Militia of this era were poor fighters—one charge in open battle and they scattered.

Duncan pulled up his horse and asked gravely, “How many enemy troops are in Hampshire?”

“Any reinforcements?” he inquired.

He had slain the brothers Hengist and Horsa and severely wounded the Jutes, one of the three Germanic tribes, leaving them crippled. Among the many invading barbarian tribes, the Angles and Saxons still retained strong forces and controlled most of England.

“Estimated two to three thousand,” Krigan shook his head. “But probably no reinforcements. I heard the Picts have invaded again.”

“Already crossed Hadrian’s Wall.”

“The Saxon chieftains are urgently conscripting troops to resist the southern advance of the Picts.”

Hmm?

Have the native Scottish barbarians invaded once more?

Duncan suddenly realized the situation was very favorable. The Picts were a Celtic branch known for their fierce and brutal fighting—so fearsome that even the proud Roman legions were wary. Hadrian’s Wall was built precisely to repel their incursions.

Many records describe Pict warriors fighting “like terrifying, frenzied beasts.” They were known to cut off enemy heads and hang them from their waists.

In the Total War series, the British faction features a fierce unit called the “Briton Head-Throwers,” modeled after the Picts.

Indeed, they had a custom of throwing severed heads to intimidate foes, though it caused little physical damage—mainly psychological warfare.

When faced with a hail of flying heads, ordinary soldiers would be utterly unnerved.

The Saxons plundered the Britons; the Picts plundered the Saxons.

A grim cycle of the food chain.

In the Middle Ages, the more barbaric the civilization, the fiercer and more fearless its soldiers, for life was cheap and average lifespan about thirty years. The Germanic barbarians had met their match in the savage Celtic Picts—truly biting into hard bone.

Severus beside him spoke gravely, “This is an opportunity.”

“We can take Hampshire in one decisive push.”

If Duncan captured Hampshire and expanded toward Wales, he would nearly restore the lands held by Duke Tintagel at his peak.

Opportunity must not be missed.

Duncan decisively ordered the army to quicken their march, setting their sights on Hampshire.

Scouting cavalry were dispatched.

Soon more intelligence returned: one enemy force was stationed at Portchester Fortress, built by the Roman Empire in the third century but now controlled by the Saxons. Another force guarded the port town of Southampton, numbering about two thousand. Scouts also spotted numerous Saxon warships near the Isle of Wight and Southampton.

“Saxon pirate fleet!” Anya’s eyes brightened.

The Raven Queen Triss and Anya had caught up with the group that morning, accompanied by five first- and second-rank Old Temple Guardians, who had been hiding in Gaul. Some had even joined an exiled camp.

Duncan incorporated these Old Temple Guardians into his general’s guard; their combat prowess rivaled that of elite Roman cavalry.

Anya looked at Duncan and said, “If we can seize their ships, we won’t have to fear pirate raids in the English Channel anymore.”

“We could even take the offensive and reopen maritime trade routes for Britain.”

Duncan pondered deeply.

This fleet might belong to Enfes, the Virgin Conqueror, whose command included many elite Saxon pirates.

Pirates fighting on land naturally left their ships near the harbor.

“If we succeed in this raid—”

“We’ll have a fleet.”

Duncan was eager, but how to fight was the question. With defense and offense easily switching places, siege warfare was tough for the Britons, who lacked sufficient elite troops. He dared not imagine the heavy losses militia would suffer attacking a fortress, nor how many would suddenly break rank and flee.

His battle with Horsa had withstood many fierce assaults precisely because of the defensive advantage; militia and auxiliary infantry could be used as regular infantry.

Severus seemed to guess Duncan’s thoughts. “I can find a way to open the city gate!”

Shapeshifting?!

Everyone immediately thought of druidic shapeshifting magic.

With Severus’s abilities, sneaking into Southampton under cover of night was no problem. But how could he alone open the gate and let the others in?

At the crucial moment, the guards near the gate would have to be dealt with.

The Raven Queen Triss paused, then said firmly, “I can cast a spell to put some enemies to sleep. With cooperation, we should be able to take the gate.”

Duncan looked at Triss and shook his head. “Not enough.”

“There’s at least a company of elite soldiers at the gate.”

“You two can’t handle them alone. I must go myself.”

With Duncan’s current strength, one man was like a hundred soldiers. With Severus’s help, Triss’s magic, and a few second-rank elite troops, they had a real chance to seize the gate. Once inside the town, the battle would be much easier. They could also seize the Saxon pirate ships amid the chaos.

Duncan immediately ordered, “Have Kwito assemble the elite troops.”

Unfortunately, Kurin was severely wounded and still recovering. For this kind of fight, the Gaulish Oath Warriors excelled—their first echelon sword-and-shield champions were masters of chaotic melee combat.

Anya nodded. “Then let’s move quickly.”

“Don’t let those ships escape.”

“With an escort fleet, I can revitalize all trade along Britain’s coastline.”

She hadn’t expected Duncan to rise so swiftly.

Now, with Duncan having taken Hampshire and controlling three counties, commanding several thousand troops, and soon to possess the Saxon pirate fleet, the connection between Britain and the European continent would be fully restored. The future wealth of his lands would surely depend on maritime trade.

Anya was selling off her estates in the Italian Peninsula; once funds were secured, she would become the greatest merchant from Britain to France, then Spain, and even North Africa, possibly trading across the Mediterranean.

Severus set out overnight to scout enemy positions, while Duncan urgently gathered elite units, personally selecting those marked with stars.

Night fell.

The Raven Queen Triss prepared a unique spell said to require special ritual components.

According to Duncan, it was just a low-tier mass sleep spell. By the end of the mythic era, supernatural powers were highly restricted; even a chosen like Triss needed various materials for such magic.

He wondered how General Zhang Jiao’s spells from centuries ago fared—could he have simply shouted, “Thunder God, aid me”?

Dimensional space.

Duncan’s mind wandered as he observed his second human avatar.

He feared that before his dragon egg hatched, his human vessel might perish.

Fortunately, the ice cave housing the dragon egg was well concealed—pitch dark, sealed all around, with no adult dragons to tend it, and no other creatures nearby. It seemed a forsaken, dead egg.

The ice cave was only about three meters in diameter, containing just the single egg encased in thick ice, with the surroundings unknown.

Duncan often came to check, for the egg had not fully hatched; the hatchling’s body was still forming and could not yet be entered.

“Looks like dimensional space can possess different species.”

“If it can possess a dragon—”

“What about demons? Angels? Elves? Vampires?”

“Probably all possible.”

“The only uncertainty is what conditions are needed to capture a human avatar.”

“Surely it’s not some occult mystery?”

For Duncan, having a first alien human avatar in the form of a dragon was like drawing an SSR card—he would never give up easily.

Isn’t it just soul compatibility?

At worst, he’d practice crawling on all fours like a dragon. If that failed, he could command from a god’s-eye view in dimensional space. Compared to human avatars, a dragon avatar started off far superior.

“Nineteen days left—enough time to take Hampshire and establish a foothold on Britain.”

Soft footsteps approached.

Anya slipped in quietly. Duncan thought she might sneak a bite and instinctively shifted into his avatar, preparing to practice piercing tactics.

But as soon as she sat in his arms, she whispered playfully into his ear, “I have news.”

“Not sure if you’ll be interested.”

Duncan looked up, puzzled, kneading dough in his hands. “What news?”

Anya caught her breath and whispered sweetly, “I secretly bribed a servant close to Duke Tintagel.”

“Got wind of a recent secret.”

To Anya, Duke Tintagel was merely a stepping stone. If he didn’t submit to Duncan, he’d be dealt with sooner or later. She had already begun laying her plans; this villain was clearly suited to her.

Her heart was as venomous as any woman’s—she feared no ill reputation.

Of course, she would not reveal this to Duncan yet; after all, he was the openly recognized hero of Britain.

Anya caught her breath again and whispered into Duncan’s ear, “After Duke Tintagel returned to recover…”

“One day he suddenly flew into a rage and executed several guards.”

“Then he imprisoned the Duchess.”

Hmm?!

An alert flickered.

Duncan’s gaze sharpened, as if realization dawned.

Was the conspiracy exposed?

Could it be that King Arthur was gone just like that? Perhaps Duke Tintagel had discovered his ancestral lands had been stolen!

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have suddenly imprisoned his wife.

Had Anya truly infiltrated so deeply? How many people around Duke Tintagel had she bribed?

...

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