62 50. Battle of two fronts Part 1

The sun once more sets on the horizon. The dark skies musing the sorrows of those of peasantry trying to making their way home despite the cold looming sadness drafting through the air.

The death of their fabled king soon made news to their ears.

Devastation was what rambled the minds of these people who stayed ruled. The same people who criticized Arthurs every defining step, still they hope. Hope that the other nation would allow them a claimant of pity and let them free.

Again, the world was not so beautiful. The system of the class stood as their greatest reckoning.

Still, though that however is not their greatest of headaches. Deep in the forest stood thousands of people waiting to lay siege to the capital. The expressions in their face barring no hints of love or even the kindness they professed in their emblazoning flag.

What stood was their wrath. A grudge born from being the witness of countless deaths. Fear gripped hearts now stood with blades in their hands.

The human mind so simple, so...fickle.

Slap them and once you give them a weapon and reason to swing they become no different than a monster of their own. Not knowing the machinations revolving behind their 'friends' or even those so-called 'masters' who gave them their said weapons.

Some wearing copper armor resenting the valor of iron, some wearing a coattails belongings of the french and some with a holy blade sanctioned by the church in their hands stood before its gates.

Each of different birth and of a different land. Still, their goals remain the same.

The demise of this nation.

The blood of the once mad king seems to not be enough to fill their greed of wrath.

So once more the dance begins.

....

Arturia slept on her bed for a long time. But she was not a woman who sits around in her room. Before her death, she was most active day and night to counter the foreign invasions.

Now though this moment of silence was gnawing on her. Seeing this was enough she tried to get out of her bed on her own.

"ugh.." The pain hit her. Her entire body felt sluggish. Each and every movement sent discomfort all over.

"huh.. it seems you lost some experience" a sudden voice interrupted her internal scream of pain.

"Experience?"

"The resurrection is not free. The enabling of this process led to you losing a good amount of strength. Still, it can be gained once more through training" A new problem. She was now temporarily a cripple.

Just when she was mulling over these matters, she felt the gravity disperse. Two hands coiled around lifting her up.

"That's why for this time rely on me. " Without looking at her Ainz carried her to wherever she wanted.

Embarrassment filled her veins. Making her face beet red. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to see her knight's eye to eye because of her embarrassment.

Just when she was trying to rein in her composure Ainz suddenly went still. His expression showing a mellowing sadness drifting over.

It seems something serious is happening.

She asked " What happened"

"...an attack. The cumulative force of french roman and Persia sanctioned a grand army trying to lay waste to this nation."

The news filled her with despair. She learned her lesson last time a single person cannot overturn the results of the battlefield no matter how strong he is as an individual.

Again, there always was an exception. Ancient gods of Greece, the roman warlords of the inscribed texts they defied everything with their military and strategic arts.

However, she wasn't like them. Gifted may be in the art of swordsmanship but that was enough to rebuke the Saxons not a coalition by herself.

In other words, she needed a power that defied the realms of possibility of the common rabble.

She held on Ainz's robe as a silent plea.

"...Entering the battlefield will once again restart the wars from before and you have not fully recovered yet. You could still look away and move to a faraway land living a happy life. Do you still want my help?"

Arturia still refused to let go of his sleeve.

Her stalwart expression was all Ainz needed to confirm her motives. Still, a grown woman clinging to him and making mellow eyes did not reflect the stalwartness she tried to inspire. On the other hand, the gap was enough to make Ainz nosebleed if he had a tangible nose.

"Before we go, there is something that came for you." Ainz from his robes took out a letter and handed it to her.

"...it seems someone knows that you still are alive" Now that was a shock for her.

Recomposing herself she took the letter and opened it. Based on the design, a noble household perhaps. The symbol itself on the stamp was intriguing, a whiff of magic could be sensed from it.

However, the first few words were enough to make her falter "...the mage's association"

.....

"Your majesty. Is war the only way, the dragons still protects the small island nation? Would we not incur its wrath?" Asked one of Iskander's humble advisor.

He was there when Arthur made a mockery of him before the entire deluge of foreign dignitaries.

"The dragon died with Arthur. You know of the old stories, 'once you kill the witch her minions disappear'. If Arthur the heretic is now dead then the dragon should disappear as well. No need to waste our time with sheer fantasy now. Focus on your own work you are meant to show your impeccable wisdom before all not cower in the face of uncertainty"

With shame on his face, Iskander's court advisor sat on his seat.

Inside his grand palace belonging to his predecessors. Golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and females of undefined beauty dancing before him. None of this still could erase the shame he felt on the day of the banquet.

Mocked and spat on by that wretched dragon and his master. If one thing Iskander promises then it would inevitably be to raze every existence related to King Arthur.

Honor was something every knight cherished. Destroying any evidence that he actually existed would be his revenge.

"Just you wait king Arthur, my revenge won't be short"

"My lord, it seems king Cherise has found himself a noble knight to defeat the dragon"

Now, this was intriguing. The last knight Cherise lay his hands on became the owner of another fabled sword.

The way things are going Cherise would become a problem in the future. Better to just sway his personal onto our side.

"Who is this mysterious knight that our dear friend Cherise had scouted? If he is truly worthy then invite him to our palace. We too would also like to lay visage to his endless valor."

"...Yes, his name is Siegfried, the dragon slayer"