"Taking back that land shouldn’t require much fighting."
Great Britain becomes more mountainous and forested as one moves east, with Cornwall being a mountainous region. However, to the west, it’s mostly plains. In the early days of the empire, paved roads were built in the British Province, with more than ten tribal-level administrative districts and over thirty towns established to facilitate urban management and military deployment.
A tribe is roughly the size of a small kingdom, approximately equivalent to the territory of a county.
After capturing Devon, moving towards London means facing large-scale legion warfare, and the Saxon Barbarian Race will find it easier to mobilize their troops.
However, the plains are more challenging to defend once captured.
The essence of Great Britain’s land is concentrated around the River Thames in London. The empire has developed that area for hundreds of years, with all large towns concentrated there. There is even a university in London, though it’s not the type we recognize, but an adult school built by the empire exclusively for the nobility to facilitate the assimilation of the native ruling class of Great Britain.
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"Could it be because I killed enough to force a full retreat?"
Duncan felt it was a possibility.
After all, the Barbarian Race’s forces were not many, and abandoning some remote areas made them easier to defend.
If Duncan continued to kill over a dozen people every day, it wouldn’t take long before their garrisons’ morale collapsed automatically.
The enemy had only a few thousand troops in reality, estimating only about ten thousand if militia vassal armies were included.
For the Duke of Dingtiger to reclaim Devon, let him do it. Duncan wasn’t ready to act yet; the exiles he recruited hadn’t been fully reorganized and he needed at least four to five hundred people to wage a frontal war.
The exiles were stationed in the abandoned village of Tiram.
Duncan had Kvito and Clegane assist in training the troops while he planned to recruit a few more Britons to expand into three hundred-man squads.
A good soldier is valued for quality, not quantity.
With his current assets, he couldn’t support many people.
Suddenly, there was the sound of horse hooves outside the garrison camp, then Kvito rushed in, looking delighted: "My lord."
"Someone outside wants to see you."
Duncan rose, followed closely by the Gaul guards. A few riders approached outside the camp; the leader’s skin was a bluish hue, as if smeared with some dye, resembling terrifying totem tattoos.
— Cornerland Noble Rider (One Star).
— Canti Auxiliary Infantry.
Canti refers to the corner lands, mainly referring to the native Britons living around Kent, later spreading to other places. They are the unluckiest Briton branch because the Kingdom of Kent was established on their homeland.
This group was small, only twenty-seven people, six cavalrymen, twenty-one infantrymen, with some wearing tattered clothes resembling savages, only half equipped with leather armor.
The leading noble rider wore chain armor and looked at Duncan, seemingly astonished by his appearance, watching intently through the firelight.
Recently, the rumors about Duncan have been escalating, elevating him almost to the status of a legendary hero.
"Are you the Duncan who shot the King of Kent?"
The noble rider’s expression was slightly arrogant, appearing a bit incredulous because Duncan’s physique didn’t seem as exaggerated as the rumors. Standing beside him, Kulin and Clegane looked more like the heroic figures in native legends.
In simple terms, they were big and burly, physically imposing, and fierce-looking, resembling fierce beasts.
Such men fit the native image of a hero better.
— Intimidation (Special Ability)!
Under the firelight, Duncan narrowed his eyes slightly, his deep gaze exuding an overwhelming killing intent, causing an invisible cold wind to rise and the bonfire to flicker unsteadily.
The noble rider’s warhorse reared in fright, and he was also overwhelmed by Duncan’s aura, scrambling down from the saddle.
At that moment, he seemed to experience a hallucination, seeing heads rolling in the darkness, blood flowing like a river.
When he looked up again, his expression was already somewhat panicked, but he stubbornly said: "You are not quite like the rumors.’
Duncan laughed when he heard this and asked, "What do the rumors say I’m like?"
The noble rider hesitated: "The rumors say you are mighty and majestic, like a giant, able to subdue wild horses barehanded, fight tigers and leopards, with unfathomable archery, and could eat a whole cow in one meal."
Has the rumor become so exaggerated?
Duncan chuckled and asked, "Why have you come?"
The noble rider hesitated, gritting his teeth: "We’ve heard of your legend and plan to come and join you to fight against the invading Saxon Barbarians together."
"The rumors are too exaggerated, I still want to see for myself, otherwise I can’t convince my men."
He continued: "We have more than three hundred people."
"Temporarily staying on the other side of the river valley."
It turned out to be a wandering minor lord; no wonder he was somewhat arrogant, even daring to test Duncan’s strength.
Just as Duncan was about to stand, Kulin stepped forward. This Barbarian Warrior with tattooed totems on his chest knelt on one knee, saying, "My lord, leave it to me."
Seeing Kulin step forward, the Celtic warriors on either side couldn’t help but look disappointed, retreating again.
The news of Clegane being knighted had already spread throughout the camp.
The others naturally were eager to prove themselves, even though Duncan hadn’t yet reclaimed any lands, but Clegane’s knighthood made him stand out. Especially Kvito; he was envious and resentful, wishing he had come to Great Britain alongside him from the start.