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The Fiona army and the British deserters who did not escape from this inherent barrier were all grouped together, and the three Fiona heroes were placed at the forefront of nearly 50,000 horses. Opposite them is a five-storey, all-stone castle.

The castle has no courtyard walls, and there is no heterochromatic adhesive that is common between stones. The castle looks like a super-wide magic tower, with magically a straight wall between the stones, all covered with crystal windows that can be opened and closed.

In front of the beautiful tall wooden gates, the wide road is lined with red roses and lavender, surrounded by crop fields and sturdy peasant houses, and in the distance a mill looms with pack horses pulling graphite. The voice ignored the distance of space and appeared clearly in the ears of everyone on Finn's side, and if they were willing to listen carefully, even ordinary soldiers could hear the scolding of peasant women restraining crying children from coming from the farmhouse, and the cries of their husbands who were about to take up arms and fight.

Looking at this ideal view, the British deserters could not help but think of the promise made by the king in the square, on the hills, that everything here was just like the good life after the war that the king had described. The Celts of the Fiona Army were careful not to trample on their crops in such a peaceful environment, and some would lay down their weapons in an attempt to straighten the crops they had stepped on.

"O king, I heard you talk about the inherent enchantment a while ago, and your words revealed your envy for the Greek king Alexander who had such a ability, and I wonder if I have made up for your regret with the inherent enchantment that I have embodied in my former territory. “

Artoria, who was holding up the Broken Steel Sword, even forgot to continue to inspire Excalibur, looked around at the scene within seventy-five corners in front of her, and asked in disbelief: "Is this the territory of the Qing? “

Still holding the shield in his left hand, Dagnit hid behind the shield, pulled the corners of his mouth with a bitter smile, looked at Artoria and said: "In order to build such a peaceful village, to teach the locals to abide by the knightly rules you have set, and to prepare for your arrival and stay, I have missed your expedition to Lancelot! “

Artoria quickly turned backwards in place, and the wind that moved quickly blew the blonde hair she had spread during the battle with Finn, and the maverick strand of hair on her head seemed less conspicuous for the first time.

Rows of neatly aligned black knights, quiet as if they weren't there, arrayed between Artoria and the castle. She looked up at the tall, black-clad figures on hooded military horses with black iron horse faces. Whether it is the black knight's helmet, or the black polished knight's plate chain composite armor, or the black steel-clad leather cage hand and black splint chain mail legging boots, there is an air of despair.

If you add the black lacquered iron-headed knight's spear with a length of nearly two meters and a half neatly erected on the right hand side of these people, the black all-iron nail hammer hanging from the waist on the right side, the fan-shaped birch rider shield on the back, and the black leather scabbard on the left side that is chained to the belt and the black-handled handguard sword placed in it. The oppressive feeling of these people can plunge even true knights into despair.

King Arthur asked in a trembling voice, "Are you really my knights?"

At this time, Artoria had forgotten her previous euphoria and doubts, and she was now simply unwilling to believe that these poor killing machines were her own knights. She could feel that the knights had followed the rules of the Knights of the Round Table, that they had all killed at least dozens of true warriors with their own hands, that none of them had used underhanded tactics in these wars, and that they had never run away or bullied the ladies.

The Knight King's instinct told her that these hundreds of people were the best knights under the rules of the Knights of the Round Table that he had formulated, and even among the one hundred and fifty knights sitting at the Round Table at his peak, there were no thirty knights who were better than the worst of them. But something called humanity and kindness in her heart, hoping that she would not accept these knights who seemed to bring despair to the whole world, and for the first time she questioned the chivalry she had formulated, and she could not understand why the chivalry she thought would bring happiness to mankind would approve of these people.

The knights in the first row neatly removed their helmets with their left hands and clipped it to their waists on the left side. The exposed faces range from young people in their twenties, to the prime of their thirties, and wrinkled faces with silver hair. These people all looked at him with smiles on their faces, and at this moment Artoria seemed to feel as comfortable as a spring breeze, and at this moment the despair just now was swept away, and the fire of hope was burning. The Knight King, who has always been confident in his ability to resist demons, has to start wondering if he has been enchanted and hallucinated.

"I'm John, we were squires together at Kai's side when we were young, King?" was a middle-aged man with an earthworm-like scar on his face from his left eye to the wing of his left nose.

"My name is George, and I used to feed you and Sir Kay horses at the inn at Tintagel Castle. This is the proud word of a silver-haired old man.

"My name is Joseph, and I have witnessed you draw the sword of the Chosen King as a wandering knight in a jousting tournament. “

......

The people in the first row spoke of the scenes when they were lucky enough to meet her, some of them did exist in her memory, but most of them were "passers-by" who could not be remembered by her even a blurred face.

"These are the warriors who I have gathered to protect you in the world, O king, after you have determined to be the queen of your people, and who have gathered all over the world to protect you, and who, like me, have your wishes as their own wishes, and your happiness as the only criterion for judging their own happiness. Now I solemnly answer your question again, you ask me if you are a qualified king, I, Daganit, the most powerful white wizard in the world, give here an answer that can be verified by the root: it is precisely because you want to become a king that that country has a king, it is precisely because you recognize your noble pursuit that there are so many excellent people who are willing to sacrifice their heads and blood to protect that country, and it is precisely because of the loss of you that the country will perish. Agitated, Dagnit paused slightly.

Blessed with witchcraft and magic, he continued: "It was you who pointed out the direction for that confused country, it was you who sheltered the cowardly people who should not be able to survive, and it was you who provided spiritual support for those who were at a loss in war, so that they could have a more effective and definite object to believe in and follow." You are the cornerstone of that country's existence, and if you must insist that you are not worthy of being king. Well, please accept the place that belongs to you. O Artoria, a simple girl who has the aspirations of a saint, you are the god of Britain, you are the patron saint of that stormy country. If you must renounce the throne of king, please go to the altar and accept the name of God!"