Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

Credits: Dylan MISAK

"Are you an idiot? Why would you do something like this? Didn't the King reserve a seat for you in the Holy City?"

Mordred looked at Alaric in confusion, seemingly unable to comprehend why Alaric would betray them just before the completion of the Holy City.

"There's no such thing, Mordred. And besides, the seat holds no meaning. The King's salvation is too narrow—it's not the future I wish to see."

"You're not like that idiot Gawain, you're really—"

Crack!

With a crisp sound, the horned helmet that covered Mordred's face flew into her armor, revealing the face of a girl strikingly similar to Alaric's.

Fujimaru Ritsuka's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight.

Having fought alongside Mordred in the Fourth Singularity, London, Ritsuka was acutely aware that Mordred's armor and helmet were not just simple equipment.

They were akin to Noble Phantasms: Secret of Pedigree.

In addition to its powerful defensive capabilities, it had the special effect of concealing certain information about Mordred. While it couldn't hide general stats or class skills, it completely obscured her true name, Noble Phantasms, and unique abilities.

Most importantly, while wearing the helmet, Mordred could not activate Clarent Blood Arthur, her Noble Phantasm of rebellion against her father.

Now, however, Mordred had willingly removed the helmet. This could only mean—

"Mash, be wary of her Noble Phantasm," Fujimaru Ritsuka said in a low voice. If it weren't for Alaric negotiating with Mordred, the battle would have already begun.

But judging by the current situation, the negotiation between Alaric and Mordred wasn't going well.

Standing opposite Fujimaru and the others, Mordred, now unmasked, glared sharply and bared her fangs. "Super idiot, Alaric."

Even without spending the past six months with Alaric, Mordred seemed to understand what this knight, appointed by the King, was thinking.

The bond of their shared blood was so close that it brought their hearts together.

Hearing Mordred's familiar mocking tone, Alaric suddenly laughed. "It seems Mordred knows me well. Is there anything else you want to ask?"

If Fujimaru Ritsuka could discern Mordred's intentions, then Alaric, who had spent half a year with her, understood even more clearly.

It was as if the leash restraining a hunting dog had been removed, and the hunt had begun.

Before the words even faded, the atmosphere grew heavy in an instant.

The overwhelming killing intent emanating from Mordred made Mash and the others hold their breaths as if their hearts were clenched in an invisible grip.

It was precisely because of Mordred's unrestrained bloodlust that Mash, Cursed Arm Hassan, and Arash immediately entered battle-ready stances, while Bedivere gripped his silver arm tightly, his gaze fixed on Alaric, who was slowly approaching Mordred.

Being the closest to Mordred, Alaric was the first to face the torrent of killing intent head-on.

Feeling the killing intent that seemed to invigorate his body and mind, Alaric sensed that even the flow of air had quickened. The dragon blood within him surged in response to Mordred's aura.

Taking a deep breath, he said slowly, "Mordred, it seems—"

"I must kill you with my own hands, Mordred."

"And I'll cut off your head myself, Alaric!"

Their voices overlapped as they spoke. In the instant their eyes met, they understood one another.

This was a bond of near-perfect mutual understanding: absolute rampage and madness.

A battle fought solely for self-destruction!

Scarlet magical energy erupted into the sky, sweeping across the battlefield in an instant.

Not only was Mordred radiating crimson lightning, but even the pitch-black radiance surrounding Alaric transformed into the same crimson bolts. The overwhelming draconic aura shook the atmosphere!

The two charged at each other simultaneously, completely synchronized. The clash of the King's Sword and the Sword of End sent shockwaves through the air!

Buzz!

The atmosphere trembled violently. A ring of force tore through the sky, causing the surrounding mountains to collapse!

Amidst the chaos, Mordred's ferocious expression caught sight of something in Alaric's incredibly familiar eyes—

That gem-like glint.

As someone who spent six months with Alaric, Mordred knew that gleam well—it was the mark of the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception activating.

It was also a testament to how seriously Alaric was taking this fight.

Every strike was a killing blow—a sword meant to slay magic, slay weapons, and slay the enemy.

This was undeniably a fight to the death!

Mordred had seen Alaric use the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception many times, cutting down countless enemies, and even killing refugees. But Alaric had never once used these eyes against the Knights of the Round Table.

Until now—

"Alaric!!! You've betrayed the King!!!"

Mordred, who had never known hesitation, grinned savagely. The magical energy surging from her King's Sword intensified exponentially!

It was as if her very Spirit Origin had ignited, turning into fuel for her power!

This reckless act instantly gave Mordred the upper hand in her clash with Alaric!

Boom!

A crimson torrent surged forward, much like the destructive light Mordred had unleashed on Alaric in the wilderness months ago.

["Mordred is burning her Spirit Origin! Is that her blessing?!"] Roman urgently shouted, monitoring the magical fluctuations between Alaric and Mordred. "She's consuming her Spirit Origin to amplify her power! If she uses her Noble Phantasm—"

"If she fully releases that holy sword, the whole mountain will be obliterated!" Arash said gravely. "To give that kind of blessing to her… your King must be something else…"

And then, in the next instant, the crimson torrent that seemed poised to engulf the entire village vanished without a trace!

A single, clear ring echoed across the heavens.

"Alaric cut through the magical energy itself?" Even Arash couldn't hide his amazement. It was pure skill and ability—no wasted movement, a decisive and lethal strike!

"So this is the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception," Mash murmured, recalling Da Vinci's words about Alaric possibly possessing those eyes. "If his eyes change, we have to be careful."

Even the simplest dagger, in the presence of those eyes, could kill anything.

All things, without exception.

Although the crimson torrent had disappeared, the battle between Alaric and Mordred continued.

The two intertwined crimson comets rampaged through the valley, each clash unleashing terrifying bursts of magical energy.

Mordred, empowered by her Spirit Origin-burning Berserk blessing from the Lion King, wielded massive amounts of magical energy—enough to rival the vast reserves Alaric gained from the Holy Grail.

"Mordred!! Do you plan to fall here?!"

Boom!!

Alaric's merciless punch struck Mordred's chest plate, shattering the air with its force and slamming her into the mountainside.

Crack!

At the same time, the sound of Mordred's armor breaking echoed across the battlefield.

Without hesitation, Alaric continued his assault. The radiant Sword of End erupted with crimson lightning, mimicking Mordred's earlier Mana Burst, and swung forward with devastating force!

During the past six months, Alaric's mentors weren't limited to Lancelot alone. Every Knight of the Round Table he fought had taught him something—even Mordred.

Boom!

The crimson torrent pierced through the mountain, its searing heat melting the rock into molten lava that threatened to engulf Mordred's petite body.

Crack—!

By now, every piece of Mordred's armor had shattered, leaving only the red fabric covering her vital areas. Her pale, unguarded skin was exposed to the elements.

But Mordred paid no mind to her appearance. Her piercing green eyes, filled with draconic majesty, locked onto Alaric.