110 Long Live the Dragon Emperor!

"Haha! Hahaha! Hahahaha!!!"

When the news of Artorius leading his hundred thousand troops and marching towards Ravenna reached the emperor's palace, Lucius Tiberius burst into mad, gleeful laughter. His loyal ministers, fools, and unlucky souls who were still gathered around him exchanged glances, feeling a sense of fear.

They thought that the Emperor must have gone mad from receiving such terrible news.

Especially since he had heard about the Gothic raid, the Vandals landing in Sicily from the south, and the Eastern Emperor Zeno sending a fleet to attack the Italian coast.

Being surrounded on all sides was perilous enough, and even a vast empire might not withstand it, let alone the current state of the empire, which seemed as shaky as a pill.

"This is what I wanted to see." Lucius then said, "I will defeat that traitor in a pitched battle, twist his head off, and after that, the empire will return to its rightful order. Everyone will understand that I am the True Emperor!"

"..."

After hearing his words, even the most loyal generals could only look at each other in bewilderment.

No one dared to speak, which irritated Lucius. He said with a dissatisfied tone, "Don't you understand?! Don't you get it?! The biggest mistake of that traitor is that he still claims to be a part of Rome! Can't you see what that implies?"

"Then, Your Majesty..." Sirius, the former governor of Gaul, gathered his courage and asked, "What does it imply?"

After Artorius occupied almost all of Gaul, the man who once saw Artorius as his greatest rival and opponent, fled back to Italy in a pitiful state.

Without an army and stripped of power, and with the added problem of his poor relations with the British-Roman, he didn't even have a chance to change sides; he could only cling to Lucius and hope that the emperor would pull off a miraculous victory so that he could regain his position.

But seeing Lucius acting like this, he felt hopeless. He had no other option but to play along.

"It means that I still have a chance to reclaim those territories!"

"Those lands still belong to Rome!"

"I am the legitimate Roman Emperor!"

"As long as I defeat that traitor, those territories will return to my rule!"

Lucius shouted with excitement.

But looking at the Emperor's exhilaration, Sirius felt a chill in his heart.

'Ahh, the Emperor had truly gone mad.'

'We are doomed, isn't that Artorius's side mainly comprised of Germanic and Celtic peoples, while our Latin Rome is another matter altogether? Even if you were to defeat him, do you really think those Germanic and Celtic barbarians will obediently listen to you?'

Thinking like this in his heart, Sirius, along with the loyal, unlucky, and foolish Romans around him, had no other choice but to force smiles and cheer for the long life of the emperor.

With such a leader, it was no surprise that the Western Empire Army was defeated by the rebel forces in the Battle of Ravenna.

No, he shouldn't call them rebels. They should be referred to as the holy and great legions of the Roman Empire. After all, they were the victors. The entire Italy had fallen under their control.

With the annexation of Italy, the traditional sphere of influence of the Western Roman Empire was now reduced only to North Africa.

However, considering the current situation, it seemed like it was only a matter of time before that too would be under their control.

Indeed, even the Vandals, who occupied a small part of North Africa, were no match for the New Emperor.

Under Artorius's rule, the influence of the Roman Empire had surpassed that of its golden era.

The northern part of Britain and Ireland, which had previously halted the mighty Hadrian, were now part of the empire which was Artorius's.

If one were to call this victory insignificant, then the unprecedented feat of incorporating the Germanic tribes, who had continuously inflicted pain upon the empire for centuries and were unconquerable even during Rome's prime into the empire, would certainly be an outstanding achievement.

Artorius was an emperor like no other. He didn't just overshadow figures like Lucius; he stood tall even when compared to history's most famous Emperors—Caesar, Augustus, and Aurelian. Artorius stood shoulder to shoulder with them and even surpassed them.

Thus, Lucius's delusion was merely a delusion. Utterly pitiful.

===

In the Battle of Ravenna, Lucius had gathered his last three Roman legions and met a painful defeat.

One legion turned traitor on the verge of battle.

Another collapsed in an instant.

The last legion loyal to Lucius until the end, was reduced to ashes under Artorius's sword beam.

With that, Lucius Tiberius, who once ruled an entire empire, was left with nothing but himself and his imperial sword, Florence.

"I should have... I should have..."

At that very moment, as he confronted Artorius and his formidable troops, Lucius felt lost, uneasy, and unwilling. After drifting in a daze for a while, a sudden realization dawned upon him.

In the end, he was defeated by a man named Artorius Pendragon.

He was inferior to Artorius in everything.

Inferior in strength, and lacking the intelligence and capability that Artorius's possessed.

From the moment Artorius left Britain and joined the Roman Empire, everything had been set.

'What kind of monster is my enemy...'

As he realized everything, Lucius knew that his end was near. However, even in death, he wanted to die charging forward, bravely. Even if he was the only one.

"ARTORIUUUS!!!"

Roaring with all his might, he charged toward the opposing hundred thousand troops.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Artorius's powerful legion did not attack.

No cannons, arrows, crossbows, or anything else. Those formidable knight orders, unmatched heroes, and elite troops equipped with a multitude of magical weapons, none of them launched an assault against him.

At the forefront, warriors clad in enchanted plate armor split into two lines, creating a pathway, allowing Lucius to face his mortal enemy directly.

There, Artorius Pendragon stood calmly without expression. Several seconds later, he charged toward Lucius.

*CLANG!*

The Sword Emperor's sword clashed fiercely against the sword of the Dragon Emperor.

Lucius, as strong as a bear, glared fiercely at Artorius, who was clad in frost-silver armor.

"What's this supposed to be?! Pity?! You bastard! I don't need your pity!!!"

The crimson and golden sword afterimages clashed violently before parting ways.

"I just feel like this is something I should handle myself..." Artorius said, his eyes flickering. "After all, you're an emperor too. I want to make your death a dignified one."

"Hahahahaha!" Upon hearing Artorius's words, Lucius sarcastically laughed, "You think you've already won?! When I twist your head off, I'll take pleasure in seeing your contorted face!"

"Then go ahead and try."

"Hahahaha!!!"

Amidst the maniacal laughter, Lucius went all out, launching an attack towards Artorius. In an instant, they exchanged hundreds of moves, a spectacle rivaling Artorius's battle with Clovis back then!

As the fight progressed, Artorius confirmed that Lucius was truly worthy of the title of Sword Emperor. He was undoubtedly one of the most powerful warriors of his time.

Even under Artorius's command, only a few heroes could match him.

Gawain, Lancelot, Lamorak, Mordred... these renowned knights couldn't hold a candle to Lucius.

The only one who could defeat him was Artoria.

However, even with such a formidable strength, Lucius was not Artorius's match.

With each powerful swing of his sword, Lucius's stamina diminished significantly.

In an instant, hundreds of moves had taken a toll on his mind, will, and body. In the first ten minutes, they seemed evenly matched. But in the following half-hour, Lucius found himself at a disadvantage. By the fortieth minute of continuous fighting, he was covered in numerous wounds, barely able to defend, dodge, and protect himself.

With the blessings of gods and the bloodline of ancestral Romulus, Lucius—the last savior of Rome—could still become tired, exhausted, and injured. Artorius, on the other hand, would not!

'His recovery is this strong?!'

Despite managing to inflict some damage on Artorius, it healed in an instant.

'Does he have limitless stamina?!'

While Lucius struggled to catch his breath and felt exhausted, Artorius's breathing remained steady as an immovable mountain, showing no signs of fatigue from the beginning of the fight.

Not to mention, an indescribable sense of annoyance and unease had plagued Lucius from the start of the fight, haunting him relentlessly.

"!"

"!!"

"!!!"

'My swordsmanship, my skills, my speed, strength, reflexes... he surpasses me in every aspect!'

Realizing this, Lucius fought on in a mixture of shock and fury but eventually fell to defeat.

His arm was severed, then a leg. Lying on the ground, he was rendered defenseless under Artorius's foot.

Intense pain, a sense of loss, and the despair of defeat caused life to fade away from his body.

"...Will you make this country better...?" Lucius gazed at Artorius, hoping for an answer.

"Of course." Artorius replied without hesitation, "After all, this is 'my' empire."

"Good... then you are—" Before Lucius could finish his sentence, Excalibur pierced his throat.

"I am the Emperor." Artorius looked at Lucius, who desperately tried to make a sound, and said, "No need for anyone to acknowledge it. Know your place."

With these words, Artorius withdrew his sword, and arterial blood sprayed high, some even landing on his cheek.

Ignoring this minor issue, Artorius turned around and looked at his troops. Celts of Britain, tribes of Germania and Gauls, as well as Latins of Spain and Italy—all united around him now.

"The fake emperor is dead! Rejoice! May the Dragon Emperor live long! Glory to Artorius the First!"

As Agravain fervently yelled, a hundred thousand troops raised their right arms in unison.

""Long live the Dragon Emperor! Glory to Artorius the First!""

The resounding voices shook the battlefield, reaching up to the heavens.

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