Late at night, the Royal City of Camelot.
The dark clouds arrived exactly as promised, and the howling gale carried the roar of a torrential downpour. Under such a punishing storm, even with the city teeming with knights from across the island and the continent for the Selection Ceremony, the capital was exceptionally quiet.
Loren led his group of Saxon remnants to the foot of the eastern wall.
An oil lamp atop the wall flickered twice. Moments later, the heavy city gate was slowly pushed open. A man shrouded in black stood at the entrance, holding a lantern. Seeing the open gate, the Saxons following Loren immediately grew restless, their bloodlust rising.
"Commander, should we just charge in and start the slaughter?"
Loren shook his head, raising a hand to signal for silence. His gaze locked with the eyes hidden beneath the black hood of the gatekeeper.
"Where is the son of King Uther?"
"Follow me," the man replied in a raspy voice, turning to head into the city. The mass of Saxon stragglers followed Loren, moving silently through the rainy night toward the heart of the Royal City.
With every street they passed, a small Saxon squad would break away from the main body.
"Commander, according to your orders, some of the brothers have split off at the intersections. Once the fighting starts, they'll begin sowing chaos everywhere."
"Any sign of trouble?"
"None. The nobles of Camelot have always been like this. It's pathetic." The subordinate looked at the cloaked guide with a look of pure contempt.
Faced with a great enemy, they only cared about their internal feuds. Everyone wanted to be King, but no one wanted the responsibility. They constantly plotted to use the Saxons to exhaust the strength of their rivals. They would close their doors and hide while Saxons rampaged through their lands, or even send guides to lead the invaders to pillage their own colleagues.
"Which is why we must remain united under Her Majesty," Loren said coldly.
"We're here." The man in black stopped, pointing at a massive estate ahead. "This is the place."
BOOM!
A bolt of lightning flashed, turning the dark, rainy night into blinding daylight for a split second. Loren paused to study the luxurious manor. He waved his hand, and his unit quickly surrounded the entire street.
"Kill them all!"
A short while earlier, at Guinevere's residence.
After consulting with Bart, Artorius had decided to abandon the loosely defended outer courtyard, pulling all the knights into the inner court to reinforce the defenses.
"Are you sure you aren't overthinking this?" Bart couldn't help but ask as he finished inspecting the western defensive line. His men were already grumbling about having to build fortifications in the middle of a downpour.
This was the core district of Camelot. How could anyone possibly strike this far in without being noticed?
"I'm sure." Artorius kept his head down, his golden hair soaked by the rain. His pale blue eyes were chillingly calm in the darkness.
"But my men..." Bart said helplessly. "A few sentries should be enough. If no one shows up tonight, your reputation is going to take a hit..."
"Bart." Artorius cut him off, looking up to meet his eyes. "You don't know the Saxons, you don't know the nobles of Camelot, and you certainly don't know an idiot like Jayn. Trust me. Someone is coming tonight."
Seeing Artorius so stubborn, Bart felt a flicker of annoyance. He was nearly forty years old—was he really being lectured by a kid who wasn't even twenty?
But when he looked at Artorius's knights, his anger dissipated. Those men hadn't uttered a single word of complaint; instead, they were executing every order with military precision.
At that moment, a deafening roar tore through the curtain of rain.
"CHARGE—!"
Bart's expression changed instantly. He scrambled up onto a high platform to look over the wall. The night was as black as ink, and the rain was so heavy it practically blinded him.
CRACK-BOOM!
Lightning arced across the sky, illuminating everything in the outer courtyard.
People. A sea of people.
Hundreds of Saxons were pouring into the outer court like a rising tide, charging toward them with manic intensity!
"ENEMY ATTACK!!!"
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