Chapter 57: Facing the Scourge of God!

Duncan had to return.

Because during this period, a major event occurred that was enough to influence the situation of the entire continent of Europe.

Attila the Hun, the Scourge of God, led a vast army of Huns, dividing it into two routes to bypass Paris and attack the key stronghold of Central Gaul, Aurelianum (known today as Orléans), with the intention of conquering the Franks in a single stroke, defeating the empire, and completely bringing the Franks under his control.

As mentioned earlier, there were two distinct groups of Franks: one had submitted to the Hunnic Empire, while the other was friendly to the Roman Empire.

Therefore, when Duncan had traversed the European continent earlier, he had witnessed two different Frankish forces hacking at each other, alongside a small number of elite Hunnic riders. But this time, the Scourge of God was playing for real, personally leading his army westward to crush the fading Western Roman Empire once and for all.

"The Battle of Catalaunian Plains is about to erupt."

This could arguably be described as the largest pitched battle in European history during the medieval era. On one side stood the setting sun of the Roman Empire, and on the other stood the Hunnic Empire led by Attila, known as the Scourge of God.

Southampton.

Duncan leapt down from the ship and hurried toward the lord's mansion. Catching sight of Severus, he asked in a deep voice, "How is the situation?"

The Raven Queen Triss, Anya, Severus, Kveto, Clegane, and others were all gathered there.

Seeing Duncan return safely and seemingly uninjured, the Raven Queen Triss let out a breath of relief and said with a solemn expression, "It won't have a massive impact on us, but the exiles we recruited have been caught up in the war and are temporarily unable to migrate to the British Isles."

At this moment, Anya stepped forward, wearing a proud expression that seemed to demand praise, and handed a sealed document to Duncan.

"What is this?" Duncan reached out and took it with curiosity.

Anya said with a triumphant air, "The imperial appointment document for the governor."

"However, it only officially takes effect once you successfully restore the Province of Britain. With this, you will essentially be a legitimate feudal lord ruling over the British Isles."

"Even King Uther would have to bow his head upon seeing you!"

Valentinian III?!

An appointment as Governor of the Province of Britain personally signed by the Emperor of the Empire?

Good grief!

He had only been gone for a little over ten days, and Anya had pulled off a stunt this big?

No one else knew about this.

Even the Raven Queen Triss beside him wore a look of utter shock. She glanced at Anya, took the document to examine it closely, and then nodded gently. "It is indeed an appointment document from the Western Roman Emperor Valentinian III."

"But it still needs to be recognized by the Senate."

Anya reached out to take it back and said gravely, "Of course I know that."

"Therefore, there is a prerequisite for this appointment to take effect: we must nominally restore the existence of the British Province. Only then can Duncan rightfully become the Governor of Britannia."

The Raven Queen Triss asked, deeply astonished, "How on earth did you convince Valentinian III?"

Anya showed a trace of smugness. "I still have some connections in Rome."

"Besides, Valentinian III has always been dissatisfied with the supreme authority held by the Patrician Aëtius. He has constantly yearned to gain prestige within the army and showcase his talents before the Roman populace."

"So I seized a small opportunity and gave it a try, never expecting it would actually succeed."

The foundational premise for all of this success was that Valentinian III was an emperor with very little real power. Only such a ruler would pin a sliver of hope on Duncan, who had carved out a formidable reputation for himself in the British Isles.

Or, to put it more bluntly, Valentinian III needed to hitch a ride on Duncan's coattails, leveraging his renown to bolster his own prestige, show his face before the Roman citizens, and establish a bit of presence within the military.

Such was the pathetic plight of emperors in the twilight of the empire—they had to grasp at any meager opportunity to spread their fame within the ranks.

This was a tremendously difficult task, yet Anya had actually pulled it off.

Although she had suffered a massive financial bleeding—even giving away her grand estate in Rome—by pulling this off, her contribution among the group was monumental, instantly eclipsing the Raven Queen Triss.

At that moment, even the Raven Queen Triss's tone when speaking to her became noticeably more polite.

In this round, Anya secured a massive victory!

"No wonder I suddenly felt a slight surge in my Roman renown!" At that moment, Duncan felt an impulse to pick Anya up, spin her around, and plant a kiss on her.

Fame and power are instruments of the state; they cannot be casually lent to others.

That is, such a trick was only possible in the twilight of the empire. Had the empire been even slightly stronger, or had the emperor's authority and prestige been even a fraction higher, Anya wouldn't have had a microscopic chance.

It was much like the late Tang Dynasty, where a fierce warrior in the Western Regions carved out a territory and wrote to the Emperor of Tang, asking to be appointed as the Jiedushi (military governor) of the Western Regions. The Tang Emperor, thinking he could nominally recover the Western Regions without dispatching a single soldier, waved his brush and directly granted the title.

If it succeeded, he could proclaim to his subjects that the Western Regions had been recovered, proving the empire was still mighty, and incidentally saving face for the emperor.

If it failed, it simply as though nothing had ever happened.

In this affair, Duncan stood to gain without any risk, and Valentinian III likewise took no risk, considering the Province of Britain had been abandoned for decades.

If the route was cleared, it might even expand trade, though Britain could hardly compare to the actual Western Regions and its Silk Road.

Anya's play here was nothing short of god-tier!

Severus, standing nearby, cast a fresh, assessing look at Anya. He realized that this Roman noblewoman was truly formidable; without making a sound, she had accomplished a feat of this magnitude.

The group took their seats in turn.

Duncan turned his gaze to Severus and said in a grave tone, "Tell me about the situation in Gaul."

Severus stood up and nodded. "The exiles have gone into hiding."

"Currently, the Hunnic army has pressed upon Paris and other areas, but they don't seem inclined to mount a direct assault on Paris; they are heading straight for Orléans."

Not long ago, following Attila's mobilization order, Hunnic tribes and barbarian vassal states stretching from the Volga to the Danube had all responded, sending troops to assemble on the banks of the Rhine. Wherever the vast army passed, Gallic cities fell one after another, suffering slaughter and arson.

After capturing the Frankish city of Metz, Attila divided his forces into two. One route marched westward along the Seine, while Attila himself led the other southward, aiming the spearhead directly at the military stronghold of Orléans.

This wave was the prelude to the Battle of Catalaunian Plains.

To resist the formidable Hunnic Empire, the Patrician Aëtius had mobilized virtually the entire elite force of the Western Roman Empire, even forging an alliance with the Germanic peoples. The Germanic barbarians, who had fought against Rome for a century, were forced to fight alongside the imperial legions against the Hunnic hordes.

The elite auxiliary legions of the Franks had already clashed with the Huns, and the cavalry of the Visigothic Kingdom was reportedly fully mobilized, led personally by King Theodoric to participate in the war.

In exaggerated tales from various sources, the armies clashing in this battle numbered in the millions!

However, Duncan was well aware of the moisture in those numbers. The actual combat troops on both sides probably amounted to around one hundred thousand or so. The total population of the Huns was only three to four hundred thousand, making it impossible to throw everyone into the fray at once; the core Hunnic troops likely numbered around twenty thousand.

Yet, beyond the frontline soldiers, the heavily mobilized laborers, auxiliary forces, and vassal tribes added up to hundreds of thousands.

The empire's large-scale assembly of elite eagle-standard legions also placed immense pressure on logistics, requiring the mobilization of at least two hundred thousand laborers to transport supply trains.

This was a massive, chaotic melee.

The Hunnic Empire versus the Roman Empire.

Ostrogoths versus Visigoths.

Salian Franks versus Ripuarian Franks.

The top-tier infantry legions under the Huns were branches of the Eastern Franks, while their finest elite heavy cavalry units consisted of riders from the conquered Ostrogothic Kingdom.

This was truly fighting oneself with both hands.

Germanic peoples were hacking at each other on both sides, and the empire's elite legions were largely composed of barbarian auxiliaries.

The lord's hall gradually fell silent.

Duncan gazed at the people present and suddenly asked, "How many troops do we currently have?"

Hearing his words, Severus felt his heart skip a beat. He answered in a low voice, "A little over three thousand, among whom there are one hundred and fifty cavalrymen, and only fifty-four heavy cavalry."

That wasn't many troops!

Duncan turned to look at the Raven Queen Triss, a slight hesitation in his expression, and said softly, "If I take one thousand elites with me, will it affect the situation in the British Isles?"

Mhm?!

Hearing Duncan's words, everyone else in the room widened their eyes in shock.

What is he planning to do?

Could he possibly intend to return to Gaul to help the empire deal with the Hunnic army?

Not quite.

Duncan wanted to farm a wave of renown!

This was the Battle of Catalaunian Plains, one of the battles with the highest legendary troop counts in European history, and an opportunity to stand face-to-face with Attila the Scourge of God. Duncan had been hacking down barbarians almost to the point of becoming a berserker.

He genuinely needed a few Hunnic heads to balance out his strength.

One thousand elite soldiers.

Neither too many nor too few—not enough to jeopardize the safety of the rear, but enough to exert influence on a localized battlefield.

The Raven Queen Triss also stared at Duncan with a face full of shock, yet everything she had experienced recently fostered a near-blind trust in him. She refused to believe that Duncan would make such a reckless decision without a reason; he must have had some degree of certainty.

Meeting the Raven Queen Triss's gaze, Severus felt his scalp go numb!

Whenever Duncan went off on adventures in the Nordic regions, he lived in constant anxiety. Just as he was relieved that the master of the house had finally returned, the man announced he wanted to take elite troops to Gaul to help the empire fight the Scourge of God, Attila.

That was the Scourge of God!

Undefeated to this day, he had forced the Eastern Empire into paying tribute and had advanced all the way to the walls of Constantinople.

If there was anyone in this era with the highest renown, it was undoubtedly Attila the Scourge of God. Even if Duncan couldn't cut him down, simply contributing to the effort of defeating him would yield astonishing renown.

This would definitely surpass hacking down a couple of minor barbarian kings by a wide margin!

He truly wanted to take this risky gamble.

At the same time, however, he had to consider the thoughts of the others; after all, Duncan was now a lord in his own right.

Among the crowd, only one person wore a different expression.

Anya trembled slightly with excitement, her ravishing face flushed, and her eyes filled with adoration and worship as she looked at Duncan. *As expected of the man I set my sights on—a man willing to go head-to-head with the Raven Queen Triss to fight for!*

Even the legendary Scourge of God, Attila, couldn't cause this man to feel a shred of fear.

With an excited, trembling voice, Anya declared, "I support Duncan's decision."

"We can dispatch troops in the name of the Governor of Britain to assist the imperial coalition. If we win this battle, even if the Senate refuses to acknowledge it, you will be the undisputed King of Britain!"

"Moreover, the British refugees have also organized legions to join the fight; who knows, we might even have a chance to absorb them."

The British refugee legion referred to the Roman legions that had migrated back to the region of Gaul from the British Isles thirty-odd years prior. They were considered some of the more capable imperial legions.

These people were garrisoned in the region of modern-day France.

Yet, all of this hinged on winning the battle! If they lost, the empire would likely collapse entirely!

However, Duncan knew that the empire would win the Battle of Catalaunian Plains. With his participation, the odds of victory would be even greater, and the renown farmed from this gamble would allow him to directly rise as a dominant overlord on the European continent!

To put it bluntly, declaring himself king when the time came would simply be a matter of a single word.

Attila the Scourge of God!

Since Duncan had made this trip through the medieval era, how could he not cross paths with such a legendary figure?

The Raven Queen Triss gazed at Duncan, remaining silent for a long time before stating with unyielding resolve, "I am going with you! Severus will stay behind to hold Southampton."

That was the Scourge of God; this time, the Raven Queen Triss refused outright to stay behind in the rear.

At that moment, Severus felt his scalp go completely numb.