Roar!

A series of battle cries rang out. Behind Duncan, the Gaulish Oath Warriors had charged forward. They were somewhat akin to the Siege from the Three Kingdoms period, elite heavy infantry with high morale and impressive physique, capable of fighting most tough battles, but there were very few of them, only a few dozen.

They guarded Duncan on both sides, relying on the breach Duncan had created, quickly hacking the enemy in front into disarray.

However, as they became engrossed in hacking, the drawback of the Gaulish Oath Warriors was exposed: they were extremely reckless. Some even rushed in front of Duncan, seemingly not caring for their own lives. Even more infuriating, some entered a 'headhunting' state, cutting off the heads of the Headhunter's personal guards and hanging them at their waists.

Oh my goodness.

The Headhunters themselves were hunted!

——Pict Headhunter Personal Guard (Morale Shaken) (Ghost God Descent) (Horrified) (Beheaded)!

This headhunting ritual might indeed have some mysterious power.

After hanging the enemy's heads at their waists, the Gaulish Oath Warriors became ferocious, akin to the legendary Berserkers, astonishingly inflicting extra negative fright status on the two-star silver-gray chieftain's personal guard.

This was really one fiercer than the other, completely reckless.

In a clash of narrow roads, the brave win.

Duncan charged forward fiercely, cutting down over a dozen people in a row, directly reaching Drest's presence.

Clang!

Sparks flew.

Drest raised his shield to parry Duncan's heavy strike, only to feel his palm go numb, for the enemy's strength was frightening.

However, Duncan's onslaught was like a storm. With a slight flick of his toes, a heavy war axe fell into his palm. One hand wielded the Oathkeeper's longsword, the other the beheading war axe, abandoning even his shield. Amidst the whistling air, he directly forced Drest I to retreat repeatedly, his iron shield becoming a tattered mess.

Drest I had no chance to retaliate. He felt as if he were being assaulted by the legendary Sea Giant. Simply parrying and blocking left his entire skeletal frame aching.

Bang!

Duncan suddenly kicked hard, sending Drest flying three or four meters away, a mouthful of blood spraying in the air. Before he could get up, Duncan hurled the war axe from his hand with a whistling sound breaking through the air. Drest barely managed to lift his shield to block, but the aftermath still struck his chest heavily, making him feel the world spinning before everything went dark.

"Is he dead?"

Duncan stepped forward to check, fortunately not dead. The shield blocked it, but the man was knocked out.

"Tie him up."

At Duncan's command, the Gaulish Oath Warriors promptly bound the unconscious barbarian chieftain securely.

With one charge, Duncan directly captured the enemy chieftain.

On the battlefield, the Pict warriors quickly fell into disarray. Before long, they were defeated like a landslide, leaving behind dense corpses. The elite Imperial legion immediately began to pursue, and Camelot's Indigo Highland swordsmen, now in a frenzy, flanked on both sides, aiming to cut off the enemy's retreat in the jungle.

This unexpected skirmish lasted until noon.

The two thousand reinforcements Drest I brought suffered heavy casualties, with seven to eight hundred captured and only a few hundred fleeing successfully.

In one wave, the tribe's resources were exhausted.

As for Duncan's side, casualties were minimal. He alone beheaded commanders and captured flags, as the enemy was defeated too quickly, most time was spent chasing fleeing soldiers.

The army pressed forward all the way.

Small tribes along the way surrendered at the mere sight, and by the time Drest I awoke from unconsciousness, he was back in his hometown, in the chieftain's hall of the town of Kima. Scotland essentially had no decent cities, only towns and villages, and Kima was the largest town there.

"Bring him up!"

Duncan sat boldly in the chieftain's hall, exuding a murderous aura as he looked at Drest I, who was forcibly held down and kneeling in front of him. Rising expressionlessly, he asked in a deep voice, "Are you Drest?"

Spit.

Drest spat out a mouthful of blood, his eyes red, expression still fierce. Hoarsely, he said, "Kill me if you will, no need to humiliate me."

The Picts had invaded the England area for years, pillaging and looting. He felt he was likely to die, thus freed from restraint.

Death was inevitable. Drest I glared at Duncan and said, "You slaughtered priests, destroyed the holy sanctuary. Pict warriors will never yield to you!"

"Soon."

"The coalition of many tribes will arrive, then you'll face certain death!"

"Our Divine Spirits and ancestors have already cursed you!"

"Soon."

"Your army will die of plague and disease, and you will be beheaded by the god-chosen warrior."

A curse?

Duncan scoffed, flanked by the guardian fairies of Avalon and the resurrected Suliss Goddess. To kill him with a curse, even a curse cast personally by a divine being couldn't do so. As for plague and disease, Duncan had long been prepared, as the Druid Priesthood of Suliss Goddess had arrived.

Facing enemies who liked to play with heads, how could he not guard against plague and disease?

Calmly rising, Duncan said, "So, you're not convinced?"

Drest struggled to rise, glaring at Duncan, "We will never yield. One day, my people will have their revenge!"

"They will slaughter your people, burn your holy sanctuaries!"

For a moment.

Duncan considered just beheading him to end it once and for all. But Duncan knew that Drest held high prestige among the Picts, and killing him was easy, but the ensuing rebellions and uprisings would be Britain's headache.

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