Chapter 3: An Old Debt

In the patch-up peace between the two warring nations, an agreement was made. As a sign of friendship, Camelot must pay a yearly tribute of gold, corn and cattle to the more powerful France. Over the years both parties dropped the pledge and was soon forgotten. However France had come across some financial difficulties and decided to revive the old debt which had accumulated for over seventeen years.

King Arthur refused to pay and insisted a loan with a huge interest. Enraged at the king's disloyalty, the King of France sent his mightiest champion, Alexander the Great, with a fleet of warships to destroy Camelot- or else find a suitable warrior to face Alexander in single handed combat.

There was no hope of winning. France had grown incredibly strong and influential due to her advanced weaponry her geniuses invented during the blooming time of Renaissance. The people of Camelot began to abandon their homes, turning the once bustling metropolis into a ghost town.

Julius sought out his uncle and volunteered to be a representative of Camelot. "I am the champion of my birthplace." He said. "Have confidence in my abilities."

"You are nothing but a boy!" King Arthur protested. "You are throwing your life away."

"I am here for honour and glory." Julius replied. "Not for cowardice! I am your nephew and therefore a nearest thing you have for a son. I have the right to go."

And King Arthur knew he was right. The king would have volunteered to take the prince's place if it wasn't for his faint-heartedness. He loved his kinsman but he valued his life and riches more than anything. So King Arthur sent word to Alexander that a prince from the royal house of Rome would meet his request.

Their meeting place was set upon a remote island near the Pacific. As soon as the dawn broke on the fated day, Julius and Alexander came upon the island in separate boats. But when Julius landed, he pushed his boat off and allowed the waves to carry it away.

Curious, the French champion could not help but ask. "Such a peculiar, young man! Why let the tides carry your mode of transportation away?"

"Two boats aren't necessary." Julius unsheathed his sword. "Only one gets to leave the island alive."

Alexander laughed in a terrible voice. The yellow-mane champion was impressed by the albino prince's courage. He had battled for ages, facing different kinds of battle-hardened warriors but never had he encountered such a daring lad with a suicidal wish!

Alexander secretly wished that he could capture the prince, transport the unconscious boy back to his kingdom and marry him off to his niece. France deserved Julius more. No, France needed Julius to be her next ruler! And if King Arthur wanted Julius back, the puny king would have to face him, the rebirth of Hercules first.

A fierce battle lasted for a whole day. Julius was a swifter swordsman but Alexander was as strong as a lion. The French's slashes were so powerful that there were times that Julius had to rely on his shield for his life. However Julius began to notice that his enemy was aiming solely for his head, occasionally throwing blunt objects such as pebbles and branches in a hope to stun him.

In one unlucky chance, Julius placed his shield so low that Alexander had dealt a great blow on the left side of his face, scarring it beyond recognition.

Julius bit his lower lip in extreme pain. He lost the eyesight from his left eye. Tired and weakening from blood loss; a sudden burst of desperate adrenaline seized him and he leapt forward, crashing it down to the enemy's skull.

The sword buried itself upon the French champion's brains, thus killing the mortal embodiment of war.

And Julius walked down the white sand shores absentmindedly, his injured eye weeping tears of blood. He had unknowingly survived a battle that almost cost his life and won victoriously. He could hear his comrades rejoicing but those voices seem to float on the air…

As soon as the news of Alexander's defeat reached France, the King sent men to retrieve the dead champion's body. Among them was the King's daughter, the Princess Jeanne. She was devastated at her uncle's death, for she had grown in his care and was determined to see him for the last time. When she arrived to the island she did indeed see her dear uncle's corpse ravaged by vultures and a button made of pure gold near it. Secretly she hid the button in her pocket; in case she met a man whose uniform lacked a piece…