Chapter 205: Chapter 100: Holding the Fortress to the Death Cardiff.
Under the towering high walls, a maid with a terrified expression hurriedly carried a jug of wine into the castle. The lighting inside was very dim, with a small fire lit along the corridor. The knight guarding the door looked at the maid expressionlessly, then stepped aside to let her through.
The maid walked in cautiously, with banners hanging on both sides of the lord’s hall, appearing in the darkness like an evil dragon about to devour someone.
King Uther had Sarmatian blood, and Great Dragon Head—Uther, as he loved using the Dragon Head Banner. But now, the vivid red dragon looked like a pitch-black evil dragon. There wasn’t a single guard inside, only an old man sitting on the throne sullenly drinking.
"Wine!"
King Uther slowly raised his head. Seeing the wine seemed to revive him a bit; he grabbed the jug and drank heartily, the bright red wine spilled like blood, staining a large part of his chest.
The maid was so frightened she couldn’t move. Taking advantage of King Uther’s indulgence, she quietly slipped away.
Damned Duncan!
Damned Merlin!
Damned Igraine!
King Uther didn’t even know how things had turned out this way; he just secretly spent a night with his enemy’s wife, and that led to the downfall of his kingdom and household.
He was already in his fifties this year.
In just a month’s time, King Uther appeared increasingly aged, like a man in his sixties. His life was filled with countless lovers, and after his wife’s death in early years, he found many lovers hoping to have an heir.
But nothing came out of it, until he unexpectedly met Duchess Igraine.
From the moment he saw Igraine, the aged King Uther seemed to rediscover his youthful urges, become infatuated with the duchess, thinking of her day and night. Finally, he persuaded Merlin to use an illusion technique to impersonate Duke of Dingtiger, allowing him to sneak into the duchess’s castle.
At first, he was quite proud of himself, but now when he reflects on it, he feels it’s Merlin who bewitched him.
Yes.
Now, King Uther blamed everything on Merlin. Had he not used spells, had he not idly sought out Duncan, this would never have come to light.
He even began to doubt whether Igraine was carrying his child!
Merlin was, after all, very skilled in illusion techniques.
Recalling everything from that day, it felt like a dream, memories blurred, and he couldn’t quite remember the details of their intimacy, as he had sneaked away halfway through the night, nerves getting the best of him. Coupled with some of Merlin’s prophecies, King Uther felt Merlin might have used some witchcraft to bring about the child’s birth.
Otherwise, why would Merlin say he was the prophesized son? And the union of the Red Dragon and Britain bloodline?
King Uther had slept with hundreds of women over his lifetime.
Yet never had a child until he snuck into the castle, spent a night with Igraine, and she was carrying the prophesized son?
Legend has it Merlin had incubus blood in him, creatures adept at dream-based illusions and deceptive techniques. When they mate with human females, they produce cambions. The so-called union of the Red Dragon and Britain bloodline, heaven knows what Merlin used to make Igraine pregnant, he even suspected it was a seed not of human lineage.
Both he and Igraine were mortals, how could two mortals produce a child with extraordinary talents?
King Uther grew increasingly convinced Merlin was scheming against him.
As an elder advisor of the Kingdom of Camelot, Merlin didn’t focus on assisting him properly but obsessed over this prophesized child, a ruler with red dragon-like power, it was utterly absurd, as if King Uther was beyond help, only this offspring was worth Merlin’s full allegiance.
Gulp! Gulp!
King Uther tilted his head back, downing another large cup. He had recently clashed with Saxon pirates, taking an airborne axe to the knee, which despite the leg armor protection, left him limping.
No one else knew about this for the time being, since King Uther hadn’t appeared in a while.
Clang.
By now, King Uther was drunk. He drew his sword, swinging it at the air, roaring, "Want my throne? Come and get it!"
"To hell with Merlin!"
"To hell with the Emperor of the Empire!"
"Governor of Britain?"
"I am the true King of Britain!"
King Uther’s eyes were bloodshot, and while swinging his sword, he slashed the hanging red dragon banner, severing the dragon’s head, leaving only a fierce dragon head.
All his life he never thought highly of Duke of Dingtiger.
Upon seeing the captivating Igraine, his jealousy of Duke of Dingtiger drove him to madness.
But now, like then.
King Uther, in his moment of madness, wasn’t any better than the dying Duke of Dingtiger back then. When Duke of Dingtiger knew Igraine’s bedchamber was breached, he was enraged to near insanity, slaughtering several castle guards.
And last night, King Uther, in his drunken stupor, accidentally killed a maid, hence why the earlier maid trembled with fear.
A single woman led him to being betrayed by all.
Almost no one in the entire territory of the Kingdom of Camelot responded to King Uther’s call to arms, except for the knights of his personal guard and his core team. Most of the enfeoffed lords and native chieftains had taken refuge under Duncan’s banner.
Strictly speaking, Cardiff is not a normal city; it is a military fortress built by the Empire that has gradually developed and expanded.
The flat land at the foot of the mountain is the town market, while King Uther’s castle is a high mountain fortress, built directly on the mountainside. Back when the Imperial Legion was stationed here, Roman soldiers were always high-consumption groups. Wherever the Roman Legion went, merchants followed. They even set up brothels and markets near the station, as Roman soldiers were paid much more than the natives, driving economic development in the surrounding areas.
Thus a city with a separate military fortress and town market emerged.
This high mountain fortress cannot be forcefully attacked on three sides, with only one direction open for attack—but there, high walls rise and defenses are stringent, making it extremely difficult to capture, even with a numerically superior force.
This is a permanent military fortress, built over two generations by King Uther, which the Saxons struggled to fully capture even after hundreds of years.