บท 243: Saber vs Saber
Mordred and Artoria were staring at each other.
Father and son, or mother and daughter. It was difficult to describe the relationship between these two individuals.
Mordred initially admired Artoria as the "perfect King" and tried to defend the King's name from slander.
However, there was one event in Mordred's life that turned everything around.
This is when a third character crucial to understanding the father-son/mother-daughter relationship enters the picture. And this is none other than the Knight King's sister, Morgan le Fay.
In an attempt to dethrone Artoria, Mordred was conceived by Morgan. The only reason why Mordred existed was to inherit Artoria's throne.
Mordred felt ashamed of her twisted birth, unconsciously acting jealous of normal people, and, with the special innocence that children possess, she worshipped the "perfect king." Given a helmet she was told never to remove in front of others, she was eventually sent to Camelot under Morgan's recommendation, and through a presentation of her own superb swordsmanship, became one of the Knights of the Round Table. She was given her sword despite her unknown origins because of her abilities and straightforward mental chivalry.
She protected the way of the knights much like that which could only be found in picture books, working hard daily in being the ideal knight, all while hiding her dislike of others. In the end, even that innocence was shattered by Morgan, who revealed the secrets of her birth. She learned of her parentage and was told that the King didn't know either. Morgan tried to instill that the King would never accept such a filthy child, but she was, while shocked, wrapped in joy. While not a proper human being, sharing the same blood as the King, being the "son" of a superior king, she was proud of the fact that she was not human. She felt that in name, reality, mind, and body that she was fit to be the true successor of the King of Knights.
She went without having the slightest feelings of rebellion, spurred on by the truth, and approached the King with delight. Raised without a father, the King was the very form of a godlike "father" to her, but Artoria rejected her very clearly. She said that, while Mordred is certainly born from her and her sister's plotting, that she will not recognize Mordred as her "son" or give her the throne. Mordred believed that it was all due to the King's hatred for Morgan, that it would be impossible for her "son" to be accepted. Thinking that was the reason her title was the weakest, believing that no matter how hard she tried, even if she excelled over everyone, that the King would forever view her as a dirtied child from the moment she was born from Morgan, her great love for the king up until then made her hatred burn.
Mordred began to use her magical power, and her characteristic heavy armor covered her body. In her right hand appeared her sword, Clarent, and she pointed it at Artoria.
Artoria was not left behind, and she too began to circulate her magical power. Lighter armor appeared on what was once the uniform of a butler, and in her right hand lay the famous sword, Excalibur.
"Sigh..." Artoria sighed unconsciously. "How many times do I have to tell you? As much as your heavy armor intimidates, it is useless against opponents of great caliber. You should wear armor according to your short stature, Mordred."
"Shut up!" Mordred shouted. "You're nobody to tell me anything! You're just a fallen king!"
A twinge of pain passed through Artoria's face. Mordred's comment had hurt.
"Let's get this over with, Mordred," Artoria said. "Let's end this damn battle."
"Yes, we agree on something, Fallen King," Mordred replied from under her helmet.
A second later, they both disappeared.
Mordred lunged mercilessly at Artoria, delivering swift and powerful blows at the Knight King.
"Although she has no refined style, I have to admit that her blows are more powerful than mine," Artoria thought as she deflected each and every one of Mordred's blows.
The battle seemed to be advancing in slow motion in Drako's eyes, even though the two women were moving at exorbitant speeds.
"So this is a battle between Servants," Irisviel muttered. "I can hardly see any movement."
"Yes, it's an interesting battle," Drako said.
"Can you see what is happening?" Irisviel asked, pleasantly surprised.
"Of course," Drako smiled, "Mordred wouldn't call me 'Master' if I wasn't strong enough."
"So that's how it is," Irisviel murmured. "However, I did not expect Mordred to be like this."
"If Artoria is a girl, Mordred, who is her clone, is a girl," Drako responded. "It would be strange if she were a boy in that case, wouldn't it?"
"Is Mordred a clone? I thought because her parents are siblings, she looked so much like them," Irisviel commented.
"No, like you, Mordred is a homunculus," Drako resolved the Einzbern woman's doubt.
"I see..." Irisviel began to feel a kind of connection with Mordred.
Actually... shouldn't Mordred be about the same age as Irisviel?
As homunculi grow faster than humans, they have a shorter life expectancy than humans. However, physical growth does not mean mental maturity.
"She was just a child!" Irisviel came to the realization of something.
"That's right, Mordred was only 9 years old when she found out that Artoria was her 'father,' the same age she was when she was rejected by her," Drako said. "The famous final battle that destroyed the Knight King's Britannia was nothing more than the tantrum of a child who had been abandoned by her parents."
Drako oversaw the battle. Mordred was the weakest of the Knights of the Round Table for a reason. Even if her stats exceeded Artoria's, it was difficult to know if she could defeat the strongest Saber or not.
And the problem was even more remarkable when Artoria's stats were superior to Mordred's.
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[Mordred]
Race: Human/Servant (Homunculus)
Status: Normal
Lv: 49/100
Strength: 7063
Defense: 4594
Magic: 4055
Agility: 3929
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[Artoria]
Race: Human/Servant
Status: Normal
Lv: 50/100
Strength: 6951
Defense: 8688
Magic: 8688
Agility: 8688
‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐
Why did Artoria have more level than Mordred?
And her stats... were overwhelmingly superior. Drako already knew that Artoria's parameters were far superior to Mordred's; he didn't expect her to double up on several of them.
Fortunately, Mordred's armor was very powerful. It is said that even Tristan fired at Mordred's back and she didn't even feel contact with her skin, and can even withstand Frankenstein's Noble Phantasm boosted by a command spell.
But, Artoria was beginning to gain the upper hand. Slowly, Mordred was forced to remain on the defensive, something she hated. Artoria was beginning to dominate the fight.
But, Drako had noticed something.
"Mordred," Drako called her.
"I'm busy, Master!" She shouted back. "I'm asking you to stay away from this."
"I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to hold back. You have nothing to hide."
Inside her helmet, Mordred opened her eyes wide and smiled. Immediately, she took a few steps back and removed her helmet, showing her face to her opponent.
"Okay, Master," Mordred smiled. "This time, I'm going all out."
Red lightning began to flow through Mordred's body, covering all the way to Clarent. Immediately, she fired at Artoria at a much higher speed than before.
"What just happened?" Irisviel asked.
"As long as Mordred hides her face, she can't show her true power," Drako said. "That is the curse of the girl who was forced to hide her face from others."
Now, the fight between Mordred and Artoria had come to a head.
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