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82.71% Reincarnated as a dragon egg in DxD with a Fate System! / Chapter 244: I have a way

Capítulo 244: I have a way

Secret of Pedigree: Helm of Hidden Infidelity

Secret of Pedigree. The Noble Phantasm of Mordred. She hid her face with a helmet given to her as a set with a suit of armor by Morgan in order to prevent King Arthur and his subordinates from learning of her true identity.

It's a little like a simplified version of "For Someone's Glory: Not For One's Own Glory" from Lancelot/Berserker. The condition to negate the effects of this Noble Phantasm is solely the act of her removing her helmet on the battlefield, so it will continue to hide her stats even if she walks around normally with her face unhidden.

Perhaps due to having been enchanted by Morgan, both the helmet and armor are quite sturdy in terms of defense as well. Furthermore, "Clarent Blood Arthur: Rebellion Against My Beautiful Father" cannot be used until the helmet is removed. As a result, Mordred keeps it almost always removed after she first takes it off the time.

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Mana Burst: A

Weapons and body are infused with magical energy, this instantaneous release elevates ability. In other words, magical energy as jet propulsion. With this she is able to fight equally with the King of Knights.

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As Artoria does, Mordred impregnates her body and her weapons with magical energy. In addition, once she takes off her helmet she can raise the amount of magical power much higher. This is so high, it feels like the difference from a small stream to a jet of propulsion.

Her increased physical strength is enough to overwhelm fighters with far greater power, and even fight on an equal footing with the King of Knights who surpasses her in stats.

Artoria's physical power, which was already inferior to that of Mordred, was now causing the thrust of Drako's Saber to gather momentum and slowly begin to overcome the battle.

Unlike Artoria, Mordred cannot apply Mana Burst to her entire body. That's why her fighting style is different from that of the King of Knights. While Artoria keeps her Mana Burst at its maximum constantly, Mordred applies it for surprise attacks at maximum power.

Considering Mordred's fighting style, similar to that of a Berserker, the use of Mana Burst by Mordred is really problematic for her opponents. You never know when she will use her full power.

"Are you sure you are a Saber-class?" Artoria asked as they fought.

"Hmph, I've never been more sure," Mordred replied as she cut violently with her sword.

Artoria frowned. This fight was really problematic.

Unlike the rest of Heroic Spirits, she had never stepped foot in the Throne of Heroes. Therefore, she was unaware of Mordred's fame or any of her Noble Phantasms.

The only information she had about Mordred was what she knew when she was alive. But... those data were not very reliable at this time.

Mordred's style had not changed one bit. That wild style would never go out of Artoria's mind. Of all the knights at the Round Table, Mordred was the worst in terms of swordplay, but at the same time, she killed the most enemies. Artoria would never forget how Mordred went into battle on her own while slaughtering the enemies of Britain.

It was the skill of Mana Burst and Instinct that had guided Artoria all her life, and Mordred, her clone, was no different. Morgan had done a good job, as much as Artoria did not like Morgan's objective.

Her Noble Phantasm should be that armor and sword, Clarent. But, Mordred could have some card of triumph that she had achieved with her fame.

But... there was something that really had changed in Mordred, and there was no way that Artoria had overlooked it.

For her, who had signed the contract with Alaya at the very moment of Mordred's death, only about two weeks had passed since her fight to the death with her "son". And while the strength levels hadn't deviated much, there was one thing that had.

Mordred's skill with the sword.

While Mordred was the least skilled knight with a sword, the same could not now be said. At the Battle of Camlann, it seemed that Mordred had been training in the art of the sword for less than five years.

However, she was now much better than before. Artoria could no longer predict her attacks as easily, nor could she defend herself from her movements as she had done two weeks earlier (although to say that it was more than a millennium ago was better said).

It seemed that she had been training for many years, but it should not have been possible by following the rules of the Holy Grail War.

No, they had previously claimed that they were external agents. Therefore, she could have been summoned much earlier.

But this was not the time to think about that.

It didn't matter if Mordred was stronger or weaker.

It didn't matter how long Mordred had been summoned.

It only mattered that she was victorious in this fight, as she had always been.

Because she was the King who did not know defeat.

Her sword said so.

Excalibur: Sword of Promised Victory

"Saber is having a tough time," Irisviel commented slightly.

Although, as much as she wanted to appear calm, she obviously wasn't.

The variable known as Mordred and her Master (who had not yet given his name) was something Kiritsugu had not considered.

Irisviel, who knew Kiritsugu's meticulous plans, knew that this strange and unexpected variable that had appeared out of nowhere could make these plans fall apart.

"Are you really willing to die for someone else's dream that you know is going to fail?"

"... huh?"

Irisviel didn't expect Drako's question, as sudden as it was shocking. For a moment, thinking about what Drako had said before, Irisviel really wondered if a dream destined to be thwarted was worth dying for.

But, she finally shook her head. A pitiful smile appeared on her beautiful face.

"I am destined to die, no matter what my wishes are," she said. "My death is inevitable. That being the case, I prefer to give my life for the person I love and his ideals."

Drako nodded.

That was the answer he expected from Irisviel.

"Even if that dream ends up destroying the lives of the two people you love," he asked slightly.

"What do you mean?" Irisviel didn't hesitate to grab Drako's arm. "Explain yourself, please!"

Drako sighed and pulled Irisviel aside to look at her better in the eyes. Her crimson pupils really did look like rubies.

"Do you think old Einzbern will let Kiritsugu into the castle if he fails?"

Drako watched in amazement as the little color in Irisviel's skin faded.

"How do you think Illya would react?" Drako asked again, not giving Irisviel time to respond. "In ten years, the Holy Grail will call a war again. I think it goes without saying who the Einzberns would send to participate in this war, who would become the next sacrifice."

"And how do you think Kiritsugu would feel about not being able to see his daughter again? For five years, he will visit the castle several times each year only to be turned away. Afterward, he will die without being able to talk to his daughter once more."

*Thud*

Irisviel fell to her knees.

If everything this stranger said was true... then Illya could not escape from the destiny of being a Homunculus created by the Einzberns either. Everything she and Kiritsugu had planned, trained, and sacrificed for was going to fail.

All for nothing.

"It can't be..." She muttered.

Her eyes sank into a dark pit of despair.

For a moment, she saw herself reflected in the dark well. As if in a mirror, a version of her dressed in dark clothes looked at her with a sadistic smile.

A chill ran through Irisviel's body.

What this man was saying was right. That person she was seeing was real, and he was inside her. He was the manifestation of the corruption of the grail.

The god created for the sins of mankind, All the World's Evils.

Angra Mainyu.

Could she escape this darkness?

Irisviel could not take her eyes off her counterpart. It was inevitable that they would attract each other as if they were two opposing poles.

But... something blocked her vision. Something cut the connection between the two magnets.

It was a hand.

Irisviel raised her head to see the person who had extended his hand to her, finding a smile that was not much different from that of her counterpart, but that had strangely calmed all her anxiety.

"I have a way to save yours and your daughter's life ."


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