Stopping her laughter but still smiling, Jeanne said:
"But personally… I'd rather you win."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, surprised, leaning forward slightly.
"Oh~ So the impartial Ruler is actually rooting for my victory?"
It was unexpected. Jeanne, who always carried herself with almost divine fairness, had just let something deeply human—almost intimate—slip through.
"Of course." Jeanne answered serenely. "But that is only my wish as a friend. It has nothing to do with my official position."
Arthur let out a short laugh.
"Oh~ Then it's official. You already consider me a friend."
"Indeed." Jeanne smiled faintly. "There seems to be within you an inexplicable power… something that makes people lower their guard and trust you, even against their will."
Arthur brought a hand to his chin, theatrically thoughtful.
"Let's just say my Charisma stat is very high."
They both laughed together, the air light and relaxed, until Arthur noticed the waiter nervously peeking from the side of the hall, too shy to interrupt.
"All right, Jeanne, I think we've talked enough. If we stay longer, we'll just end up embarrassing the poor waiter," Arthur said, glancing sideways at the young man.
Jeanne noticed and nodded quickly. "Yes, we really shouldn't take up so much time."
Arthur paid for both of them, despite Jeanne's attempts to split the bill, and they left together.
The streets of Trifas were steeped in twilight. Shops closed one after another, and the last pedestrians quickened their pace to reach home before curfew. Bit by bit, silence took over the city, until half an hour later, not a soul remained in sight.
That was when Arthur stopped, a predatory smile tugging at his lips.
"Looks like they've arrived."
With a snap of his fingers, part of his golden armor materialized, covering the lower half of his body while leaving his upper half bare.
Finally, some proper fun~, he thought.
He turned to Jeanne, who was already dressed in her battle attire.
"Want to come with me?"
She simply smiled with calm assurance.
"Isn't it natural?"
Arthur laughed, satisfied.
"In that case… let's go."
---
On the other side of town…
"Arghhh! This is so annoying! Why hasn't a single Servant shown up yet!?" Mordred shouted, kicking an abandoned can that clattered all the way across the street.
"Probably because you're too strong, Your Majesty," Sisigou replied, exhaling smoke in a half-mocking, half-complimentary tone.
"That's right!" Mordred answered immediately, smiling with pride. "I'm just too strong, so they're scared!"
Sisigou only rolled his eyes in silence.
Suddenly, Mordred froze. Her whole body tensed.
"Finally…" she murmured, a feral grin spreading across her lips.
She summoned her armor with a metallic clang and raised Clarent. Sisigou also readied himself.
Then, with the rhythmic sound of footsteps echoing in the empty street, two figures emerged.
"Two at once, huh?" Mordred stepped forward, sword in hand. "Doesn't matter. If it's two against one, I'll still take you both on! I'll split you down the middle just the same!"
Before she could charge, Jeanne's firm voice cut through:
"Negative. It is not two against one. I am the Ruler of this war. I am neither enemy nor ally. I am here only to witness this duel at the Avenger's request."
"Ruler?" Mordred frowned. "And what the hell is this 'Avenger' you mentioned?"
Before Jeanne could answer, Arthur stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with irony.
"Looks like that lioness left you far too arrogant."
The word landed like a stone. Mordred's eyes widened, her fingers clenching around her sword's hilt until it creaked.
"Who are you talking about!?"
Arthur smiled, cruel.
"Who else? Artoria, of course."
"You bastard!!!" Mordred roared, losing all control. "You have no right to call her that!!"
She charged in fury, sword descending in a devastating arc. Arthur swung his golden axe with elegance, blocking the strike. The impact made the ground quake, a shockwave sweeping down the street.
Mordred's teeth were clenched in rage, her gaze burning with pure hatred.
Arthur pushed her back effortlessly, still wearing that relaxed smile.
"Calm down, child. If you lose your head before the fight even starts, you'll just wear yourself out too quickly."
"Don't call me a child!!!" Mordred roared, lunging again.
Arthur laughed. "But that's exactly what you look like. A spoiled child throwing a tantrum because she didn't get the toy she wanted."
Mordred struck once more, with even greater force, but was repelled again. Arthur not only blocked her blows, he seemed to enjoy it—like a cat toying with a mouse.
"What a disappointment. I thought I'd face a knight of Artoria's caliber. But what do I find?" Arthur tilted his head, smirking. "A frustrated shadow, living for a recognition she never received."
"SHUT UP!!!"
The entire street echoed with Mordred's roar, more beast than warrior.
Arthur spun his axe and turned his back on her, walking slowly out of the city as if she wasn't worth hurrying for.
"Come, Saber. Let's fight where we won't destroy this village. Or can you only throw tantrums in the middle of the street?"
"I'll rip your head off, bastard!!!" Mordred screamed, chasing after him with sword in hand.
Sisigou sighed deeply, muttering under his breath to Jeanne:
"He's provoking her on purpose."
"I know," Jeanne replied. But in her eyes was something else… a spark that mixed reproach with fascination.
---
At Millennia Fortress
The Servants and Masters of the Black Faction watched the scene unfold through their familiars.
"Is it really unnecessary for us to intervene, uncle?" Fiore asked, tense.
"Master, you worry too much." Chiron smiled serenely.
Vlad III, unmoving on his throne, simply raised his spear and struck it against the floor.
"Watch closely, all of you. What you are about to witness is the grand battle of the King of Heroes against the rebellious knight."
The entire hall fell silent.
And on the screen, Arthur walked ahead, chuckling softly, while Mordred stormed after him like a furious tempest, already completely entangled in his provocation.
---
Outside Trifas
The night wind swept cold across the plains, carrying the distant howls of wolves and the groaning of trees. The moon, high in the sky, lit the open field like a silver spotlight. Mordred followed closely behind Arthur, the tip of her sword dragging along the ground, sparking against the stones.
Her initial rage had shifted into something denser—a tangled mix of anger, curiosity, and a feeling she dared not call hope.
"Hey," her voice echoed, laced with scorn but also hesitation. "Who the hell are you? And how do you know my father?"
The question shot out like an arrow, but deep in her mind, a troubling doubt emerged. Could her father have… hidden a man? The absurd thought made her heart pound. A ridiculous kind of jealousy.
No—it wasn't jealousy. It was rage. It had to be rage. The very existence of this man, walking with such confidence and familiarity, felt like a stain on the glorious image she held of the king.
Arthur didn't turn right away. He only chuckled low, as if her words weighed no more than dust on the wind.
"No, it's nothing like what you're thinking."
Finally, his eyes met hers.
"My name is Gilgamesh. And yes, I've crossed swords with Artoria in a Holy Grail War."
Mordred's heart skipped a beat.
"My father… was summoned too?"
There was emotion in her voice. A spark of anticipation that made her vulnerable for an instant. She didn't know whether to feel thrilled or bitter—glad at the thought of Artoria's return, or frustrated at not having been there to see it herself.
Arthur sighed, like a man carrying an old, heavy memory.
"She had an impossible wish…"
"Wish?" Mordred raised her brows. The idea seemed absurd. Her father, the unshakable king, having a personal wish? What could possibly drive her?
"What was that wish?" she demanded, almost anxiously.
Arthur looked at her for a long moment, savoring the impact his words would bring. Then, calmly, he said:
"She wanted the Grail to take her back. Back to the moment she pulled the sword from the stone… so she could stop herself from becoming king."
For a heartbeat, Mordred's world shattered. Silence crashed down, broken only by the rustling wind. Then came the explosion:
"WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT IS THAT!?"
Her eyes burned with rage, mirrored in the red glow of her sword.
"She wanted to throw away everything I fought to gain!? Everything I… that I…" Her voice cracked, caught between hatred and pain.
She hated Artoria. She had destroyed the kingdom her father ruled with an iron hand. But deep down, at the very core of her being, she also admired her. She wanted her acknowledgment. Her respect. Her approval. And now she learned that everything she revered was, to her father, nothing but a burden to be discarded.
Arthur smirked slyly.
"See… even you find that wish incomprehensible."
The mockery in his voice made Mordred clench her teeth so hard it seemed they might break.
---
A few kilometers later
Arthur stopped and raised a hand, the smile still fixed on his face.
"All right. We're far enough from Trifas."
The invitation was implicit. Mordred didn't need to be told twice. With a roar, she charged, Clarent raised high, striking with all her might.
Arthur swung his golden axe, blocking the attack with an ease that bordered on insulting. The clash echoed across the plains, sparks and dust scattering.
For nearly three minutes, Mordred unleashed a relentless flurry, strikes so fierce they could have cleaved any other foe in two. Yet Arthur blocked them one after another, his expression wavering between disdain and boredom.
Looks like this will be tough for you, Saber.
Sisigou's deep voice rang in Mordred's mind.
I have a suggestion… how about I strengthen you with a Command Seal?
A wild grin lit up her face.
Great idea, Master. I swear on my name—I'll defeat this bastard!
Will you? Then I'll believe in you.
Mordred's heart surged, fueled by her Master's trust.
By this Command Seal, I order you: unleash your full strength to crush your enemy!
The symbol on his hand flared with fire, and a wave of power tore through Mordred's body.
She raised her sword, magical energy overflowing to the point of warping the very air.
"I hear your wish! In the name of the Red Saber, Mordred… I'll end this here and now!"
Arthur raised a brow and chuckled, unafraid.
"Oh~ So your Master already spent a Command Seal?" He lifted his axe, taking his stance.
"Very well… let's dance, Mordred."
The two legends clashed beneath the cold moonlight, and the entire field quaked.
---
(End of chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."
Mordred-