The waning moon was hidden behind thick, heavy layers of clouds, plunging the world into darkness.
Wind swept in from the wilderness, howling as it slammed into the ranks of knights standing outside the towering East Gate of the royal city. Hundreds of knights, clad in armor and clutching long spears, stood in silent formation, illuminated only by the flickering light of bonfires near the gate.
In stark contrast to the grim atmosphere outside, the scene atop the city walls was entirely different.
Young and beautiful maids moved among the elegantly dressed nobles, placing fresh fruit and roasted meat onto low tables. The entrances leading up to the battlements were guarded by female knights in light armor with swords sheathed at their waists.
"Your Majesty, I wonder why you have summoned us here so late..."
One noble, who had previously attended Oscar's banquet, looked at the knights standing ready outside the gate. Having guessed what was coming, he spoke with a trembling voice.
Arthur, who was leisurely sipping his wine while gazing into the darkness at the edge of the eastern plains, suddenly set down his glass. He looked at the middle-aged noble with a half-smile.
The man instantly fell silent, lowering his head in fear, not daring to utter another word.
"Don't be nervous. I simply invited you all to watch a good show."
Arthur finally spoke, clapping his hands.
Soon, two knights dragged Oscar onto the wall, tossing him onto the cold stone like a dead dog.
Unlike the Oscar of a few days ago, he now looked as though he had aged decades. He resembled an old man in his eighties or nineties—eyes sunken, covered in filth, his hair a matted, tangled mess. He looked like a vengeful ghost.
"Long time no see, old man," Arthur said with a grin.
Hearing the voice, Oscar lifted his head. His eyes were filled with pure, unadulterated hatred as he glared at Arthur.
"You arrogant, unscrupulous madman! You will face your retribution!"
A knight standing nearby felt a surge of cold fury and stepped forward to silence him, but Arthur raised a hand. The knights immediately lowered their heads and retreated to their posts.
Arthur simply leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his wine cup, watching the raving Oscar with an amused expression.
Seeing this, Oscar stopped cursing Arthur. He scanned his surroundings, first looking stunned, then suddenly bursting into a fit of maniacal laughter.
"What are you laughing at?" one noble asked, his voice wavering with unease as he barked a reprimand.
"Hahahaha! I'm laughing at you lot! You lapdogs, you fools! You're being dragged to the grave by this madman and you don't even realize it!"
"To the grave? What do you mean?"
"Do you think this madman raided my home for no reason? He found out a beast tide was coming to besiege the city, and in his desperation, he lashed out like a cornered dog!" Oscar roared toward the sky. "Now that this lunatic knows he's doomed, he's dragging all of you down with him! Fine! To have this madman and a pack of fools like you accompany me to the underworld... I won't be lonely at all!"
The crowd on the wall exchanged looks of doubt and alarm.
"Your Majesty, what this madman says..."
"Lying?"
Arthur suddenly pressed a finger to his lips, smiling as he looked toward the vast, pitch-black eastern plains under the shroud of storm clouds.
"Listen."
The eyes of everyone on the battlements followed Arthur's gaze.
It was pitch black; nothing could be seen.
However, constrained by Arthur's terrifying strength and his recent habit of executing entire families at the slightest provocation, no one dared to question him. Before long, those with sharper senses felt a distinct vibration traveling through the earth.
"Is this...?"
"It's here! It's here! It's here!"
The magi on the wall immediately cast illumination spells.
In an instant, the battlements were lit as bright as day. The light also pierced the darkness of the eastern plains, illuminating the deranged smile on Oscar's face, the horrified expressions of the nobles and servants, and the black wave rising from the horizon.
It was a "tide" of magical beasts, so vast that the end could not be seen.
The nobles on the wall instantly lost their composure. Some stood up abruptly, while others cried out in panic. But just as chaos was about to erupt, a knight suddenly unsheathed her sword. With a single, swift stroke, she decapitated the noble who was screaming the loudest.
The head rolled across the stone floor, blood spraying into the air. The noisy environment fell into a deathly silence.
Every noble stared at the headless corpse, at the rolling head whose face was still frozen in a mask of panic and rage, and at Arthur, who sat calmly in the seat of honor, taking a slow sip of his wine.
"That's more like it. At your age, you should learn to keep your composure. Don't act like a reckless youth, all frantic and flustered."
"Come, sit. I'm right here; what is there to fear?"
Arthur's words seemed to carry a strange magic—a power that commanded fear and instinctive obedience. All the nobles quieted down and returned to their seats.
"There, drink slowly. The maids are heating the wine; it will be ready momentarily."
In this era, people usually drank wine rather than plain water to quench their thirst. Consequently, during the winter, they drank mulled wine to stay warm. Arthur had specially ordered the knights to bring a large cauldron onto the wall, placed right in the center of the crowd, where the wine was currently being heated over a fire.
The aroma of high-quality wine wafted over the battlements, but even the most dedicated drunkard had no heart for drinking. They either stared at the approaching tide—where terrifying beasts were now visible—or at Arthur, who sat sipping his wine with total nonchalance, showing not a hint of the fear of death.
As the beast tide drew closer...
Below the wall, Artoria, wielding her spear, led the knights behind her in a direct charge.
The wall of human flesh and steel slammed into the wave of beasts. A clear line formed between the cold silver armor and the towering, muscled bodies of the monsters, before the two sides surged forward and merged into a chaotic melee.
The moment she entered the battlefield, Artoria pierced through one magical beast and, with a powerful sweep of her spear, sent another flying backward, crashing into several more. The sheer, terrifying strength she displayed made the onlookers on the wall wonder which side was truly the "beast."
With her leading the way...
The hundreds of spear-wielding knights acted like an arrowhead, driving deep into the tide, forcibly tearing a hole in the monstrous ranks—a hole that continued to widen.
"As expected of Her Royal Highness!"
The nobles, who had been trembling in fear just moments ago, were instantly relieved. Many smiled and signaled for the maids to hurry with the wine. But just then...
"ROAR!!!!"
A thunderous, earth-shaking roar erupted from within the beast tide.
A maid pouring wine stumbled and fell. A noble, who had just raised his cup with a smile, felt his hand shake as the wine spilled over his clothes. Everyone turned their eyes toward the center of the battlefield, staring in horror at the massive silhouette that suddenly took flight from within the horde, soaring over the knights.
That was...
"A Dragon?!"
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