"People of Great Britain—"
[Moran gazes down from the castle walls.]
[No, he looks down upon all things in the world with pride.]
"If the outcome of this life and world is already determined, a deadlock that cannot be changed, how will you respond? Great Britain is destined for destruction, and the year of calamity will never cease.
All of this was decided before you were born; even if you struggle against it and exhaust your life, you cannot escape.
If this is the truth of this world, how will you respond?"
[Moran speaks to the tormented people of Britain.]
[He articulates this most brutal fact.]
[That is, the truth of the land at the end of the divine age.]
"No matter how hard you try, how lazy you are, or whether you pray and hope, it will all be in vain. The natural disasters and man-made calamities are the same…
You will be seen by the world as an unclean stain, regarded as the enemy of the world, and will suffer the annihilation of human reason. Even if you have committed no sins, you will still be violated, trampled, and plundered by others. You will be trapped in a cycle of destruction and despair."
[Calm and solemn words echo within the walls.]
[No one knows whether these words are true, nor does anyone know why you know this truth.]
[But the current situation is indeed as you said.]
[The tribes of Britain face natural disasters year after year, and the man-made calamities they confront are foreign invasions and internal strife.]
[The cultivated land yields almost nothing.]
[The crops are visibly diminishing.]
[It resonates deeply with every Briton; they have done nothing wrong yet suffer this divine punishment.]
[Anyone would feel a sense of injustice.]
"Guh… Ahh…"
[The injured man hears this voice.]
[His inner anger and resentment are stirred.]
[He believes in the holy words of this king.]
"Britain is now on the brink of extinction. This is the eternal calamity of Great Britain; even in death, you will only allow your descendants to repeat the experiences of being violated, trampled, and plundered as the defeated.
You will endure infinite suffering, suffer endless slaughter, and it may be that only when the last drop of blood from the Britons is shed will you be freed from this cycle."
[Only a hundred tribesmen remain alive.]
[Upon hearing these words filled with despair and truth, their first reaction is disbelief.]
[However, the facts are laid bare before them.]
[These Britons can only accept this reality.]
[Their families are about to face annihilation.]
[The terrifying hell painted in blood and fire is real; nothing is more persuasive than this abhorrent scene.]
"Do you have any grievances about this?
Have you ever thought about overturning it?"
[You describe that scene of despair.]
[It appears like a picture in the survivors' minds, flooding their hearts with a persuasive sense of hopelessness.]
[No one doubts this king.]
[They all begin to cast their gazes.]
[Like the indomitable demon army that fervently watches you, they reveal a similar anxious desire deep within their hearts.]
[Such is the absolute charisma of a leader.]
[While it could be achieved through large-scale manipulation of magecraft, you conquer the hearts of people entirely through words.]
[This situation is beyond unusual; no other adjectives can describe it.]
[Surely, on this entire island of Britain,]
[No existence is more deserving of the title of king than you.]
[For the Saxons, the pressure brought by your voice is no less than the roars of dragons and beasts in mythology.]
[Just hearing it can shake their spirits.]
[Those slightly stronger will fall into panic or confusion, while the weak will faint immediately.]
[It is an absolute wave of power.]
[Within these castle walls, it is your world.]
"If you have this intention, then fight.
If you wish to change your unfortunate life, then offer the resolve to burn your soul. If you do not wish to enter the shelter called fate, if you hope to wash away the stigma of the defeated—let us fight together and become the people bathed in my radiance!"
[It is a light capable of dividing realms.]
[Moran, with a confidence strong enough to reverse this hell, bestows mercy upon the people in despair.]
[The figure of the king is imprinted in their eyes.]
[Their parched throats long to roar.]
"Tell me, what do you seek?"
[Moran questions from above.]
[What he sees are the outstretched hands of desire, the unyielding compatriots who cannot take their eyes off him.]
[How lovely, how dazzling.]
[Even in the face of overwhelming despair, their unyielding will is what makes them worthy of salvation.]
"Victory! Victory! Seize victory!"
"Annihilate the enemies! Shatter injustice! Overturn the dire situation! Claim glory!"
"I wish for you to be king! I implore you! Lead me forward!"
[Though there are only a hundred of them,]
[The waves of sound they produce are not weak at all, almost clashing with the might of the indomitable demon army.]
[The injured man is also among the shouting crowd.]
[This is the mad cry of the desperate.]
[A roar yearning for a beautiful future.]
[Their will has long transcended common sense.]
[Even those bearing near-fatal injuries now shout as if they have nothing to lose.]
[They submit to the charisma of the king of light.]
[They implore to join his ranks.]
[Like those fervent indomitable demon soldiers, they yearn to become part of those who can bask in the blazing light.]
"…I promise you. I will bring victory and shatter the despair of Britain. I am the embodiment of Albion, the future ruler of Britain, the king who will lead you to break despair and welcome hope—Moran.
My people, now cleanse the pain and shame you have suffered in blood, and raise your swords high for the future!"
[At the moment Moran utters these decisive words,]
[The battlefield suddenly undergoes a transformation.]
[The tribesmen, who had been slaughtered and only wished to flee, now each pick up their swords again.]
[The injured rise as if crawling out of the underworld.]
[They charge at the Saxons with wild abandon, disregarding life and death.]
[They stab their swords into their chests, burn them alive with fire, and tear them apart with brute force.]
[The tribesmen offer their loyalty and faith.]
[And as their king, Moran bestows upon them love and protection.]
[The Saxons, who had previously tormented the Britons with their strength, now face a nightmare like lambs to the slaughter.]
[This is a revenge battle to wash away the blood feud of the tribe.]
[Determined to overturn the fate set for them by the world, this time the people will personally shatter the established despair.]
[Moran will lead them as their king.]
[He will build a glorious path leading to this impossible future.]