"Hey, since when do you fight so dishonorably?!"
"This is nothing like how you acted back then! What the hell did you even learn from Lot?!"
Seeing her still relatively young "Father" suddenly attack like this, Mordred couldn't help but feel flustered.
However
She was, after all, a member of the Round Table Knights. In the original history, she had even fought Artoria wielding the Holy Lance to a mutual demise.
As the two swords came slashing toward her, she raised her greatsword horizontally in front of her, blocking the strikes of both holy blades.
The Sword in the Stone and Excalibur simultaneously slammed against the greatsword in her grip.
Even Mordred was forced to retreat several steps.
"Just how warped has this world's history become? My 'Father' is holding the Sword in the Stone in one hand and Excalibur in the other..."
Watching Artoria's attacks, Mordred felt a vein throb on her forehead as she thought this.
In her past life, she had fought Artoria countless times.
But in that past life, the King of Knights she faced always wielded a single sword with both hands.
Now, she had suddenly switched to dual-wielding.
And what was up with her strength?!
Why was she so much stronger now compared to their sparring sessions in the past?
For a moment, Mordred was genuinely struggling to adapt.
Gripping her greatsword tightly with both hands, she endured Artoria's relentless assault.
"This brat really has some skill."
Seeing that her repeated attacks weren't having any effect, Artoria muttered under her breath.
As she thought this, she increased the force behind her strikes.
Thanks to the constant enhancements from the Sword in the Stone, Excalibur, and Rhongomyniad, her physical abilities were continuously improving.
Thus, her current strength, speed, and other attributes far surpassed those of her counterpart in the other timeline.
Mordred was having an extremely tough time keeping up.
"Exchanging blows like this, I really can't handle her attacks. No, I need to create some distance first, then look for openings in her offense. Damn it, this Servant body is still limiting me quite a bit."
Even as she fought, Mordred couldn't stop these thoughts from running through her mind.
People from different eras experienced different changes when becoming Servants.
For those from the modern age, becoming a Servant would grant them a significant boost in physical abilities and magical energy.
But conversely, for those like Mordred, who lived in the twilight of the Age of Gods, or Gilgamesh, who existed squarely within that era, their power would actually decrease somewhat upon becoming Servants.
The most noticeable difference was in their magical energy shifting from self-sustenance to reliance on a Master created a huge gap.
Right now, Mordred was facing precisely this issue.
Artoria was relentlessly suppressing her, leaving her with almost no opportunities to counterattack.
And this realization only made Mordred increasingly frustrated.
Finally, she let out a furious roar:
"Damn it, this fight is pissing me off! Fine, let's see who chickens out first!"
With that shout, she deliberately used her armor to tank a direct hit from the Sword in the Stone. At the same time, she drew her own Clarent and swung it straight at Artoria.
She was going for a mutual strike she'd see who would still be standing on this battlefield in the end.
In her past life, she had never won.
This time, she was determined to claim victory.
"Such a rebellious temperament."
Artoria quietly remarked as she observed Mordred's actions.
Then, facing Mordred's reckless exchange, she took a small step back, crossing her two swords in an X-shape to block Clarent's slash.
She kept the Sword in the Stone locked against Clarent, while Excalibur slid along Mordred's arm, aiming to slice upward.
"Shit!"
Mordred leaned back, narrowly avoiding Excalibur's edge.
But Artoria was prepared. The moment she dodged, Artoria immediately kicked out, her foot slamming straight into Mordred's chest.
No one ever said knights were limited to just swords.
Sent flying by the kick, Mordred couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat, rubbing her aching chest.
Thankfully, it was Mordred who took that hit if it had been anyone else, their chest might have ended up flatter than Artoria's own.
"You're really something else."
Panting, Mordred glared at Artoria.
Artoria calmly resumed her dual-wielding stance.
"Come on, show me everything you've got. If this is all you can do, then your plan to take me down with you isn't going to work. You need to be taught a proper lesson, you little brat."
"I don't need you to teach me anything!"
Hearing Artoria's words, Mordred immediately snapped back.
Then, with a powerful stomp, she launched herself at Artoria with a thunderous boom.
Raising her sword high, she prepared to unleash her Noble Phantasm.
Seeing this, Artoria frowned.
But just as the beam of light gathered at Clarent's tip, ready to fire Mordred suddenly dismissed it.
Artoria blinked in surprise, then spread her swords wide, bracing for Mordred's attack as their blades clashed.
"Why didn't you fire it just now?" Artoria couldn't help but ask.
"Tch. I didn't want those useless spectators in the stands getting hurt by a stray blast then they'd blame me for it."
Mordred scoffed as she spoke.
Seeing her like this, Artoria suddenly let out a soft laugh.
"What's so funny?!"
Mordred immediately bristled like an angry lion.
"I was just thinking… you really are the tsundere that Lot and Her Majesty Morgan described."
Artoria stated matter-of-factly.
"I'm not a tsundere! You're the tsundere!!!"
Mordred shrieked, swinging Clarent wildly at Artoria.
Her composure was crumbling.
She's panicking.
Artoria thought to herself.
Yep, textbook tsundere behavior.
And once Mordred lost her cool, defeating her would be trivial.
But
Right now, beating her wasn't the priority. Teaching this brat a lesson was far more important.
So, she casually parried Mordred's strikes, continuing to suppress her while speaking calmly:
"Listen, I still don't fully understand our relationship. But since it hasn't changed, I'll naturally fulfill my responsibilities."
And what were those responsibilities?
Obviously, giving her a good scolding.
She's all grown up now it's not like I can still control her meals, can I?
Artoria mused internally.
For some reason, even though Artoria didn't voice this thought, Mordred somehow sensed it.
"I don't need you to take responsibility for me!" she roared.
"That's not up to you."
Artoria replied firmly.
Her brother-in-law had made it clear this brat needed discipline. So, she'd double down on the tough love.
The battle raged on.
But to the audience, the scene was downright bizarre.
Both combatants were clearly immensely skilled, their techniques breathtaking.
Yet, Artoria's attacks carried an unmistakable air of… a parent disciplining a misbehaving child.
What the hell?
The difference in their abilities wasn't that vast!
Was Artoria seriously looking down on her opponent this much?
Whack!
Artoria landed another kick squarely on Mordred's back.
"If you want to win, then just knock me out already," Mordred grumbled under her breath.
"Winning is one thing. But teaching you a lesson is more important."
Artoria declared solemnly.
"What gives you the right to lecture me?!"
"Because I know who you are. And brats like you need to be disciplined."
Artoria stated plainly.
"..."
Mordred was at a loss for words.
Strangely enough, though, part of her felt… pleased by Artoria's words.
At the very least, the Artoria from her original timeline would never have been this direct.
"I killed you in my past life. I can do it again in this one."
She challenged.
"I don't believe you."
"Why not?"
"You have no reason to. It's not like I'd starve you. And besides…" Artoria paused before adding, "You can't beat me. So, all this is just the whining of a loser."
"Who the hell taught you to talk like that?!"
Mordred was beside herself.
The Artoria she knew in her past life was never this lively.
That version had been a distorted, emotionally stunted king.
The Artoria before her now was just a normal girl.
This personality
It was equal parts infuriating and endearing.
Though it made her blood boil, some part of her couldn't help but prefer this version.
Mordred pressed the attack.
Meanwhile, Artoria suddenly asked curiously:
"By the way, who's your mother?"
"Morgan."
Mordred answered offhandedly.
"Holy crap!"
Artoria's hands trembled violently upon hearing this.
Seizing the opening, Mordred launched a fierce counterattack, even landing a few solid punches on Artoria's chest.
That's gonna stunt her growth!
If her father ends up underdeveloped, she'll have to take responsibility!
But Artoria wasn't thinking about any of that right now.
This revelation was simply too absurd.
Morgan? My sister?!
Regardless of status or blood ties, this is just too messed up!
Artoria immediately thought of Lot.
I need to end this fight. Now.
Steeling herself, she focused and began countering Mordred's relentless assault.
The difference in their abilities was undeniable.
Artoria seized the initiative, overwhelming Mordred with precise strikes.
After another intense exchange, Mordred was once again forced onto the defensive.
Finally, Artoria slammed her sword down on Mordred's back, pinning her to the ground.
It seemed the victor of this match was clear.
With Mordred subdued, Artoria promptly took decisive action.
Drag her away!
Grabbing Mordred, Artoria began hauling her toward the waiting room.
Huh?!
The audience was stunned.
Wait, what was happening?
Was this content really free to watch?
What was she planning to do?
Was there some… special post-battle interaction?
Hold on weren't they both women?
That…
Actually sounded even more exciting.
The crowd watched with bated breath, eager for what came next.
Alas, after Artoria dragged Mordred out of sight, nothing further happened.
What a letdown!
The arena announcer began introducing the next match.
But by then, no one cared.
Who wanted to watch two rough men brawl?
They came for the cute girls!
Morgan and Fujimaru Ritsuka also witnessed the scene, but neither reacted.
After all, they both knew the relationship between Artoria and Mordred this was nothing to worry about.
...
Unfortunately, no "cute girl moments" occurred.
Artoria hauled Mordred straight to Lot's presence, her expression uneasy.
Helping Mordred up, she hesitantly asked:
"Your Majesty, about Mordred's mother…"
"Oh, it's Morgan."
Lot replied casually.
"Um…"
Artoria grew even more anxious, half-expecting Lot to declare her imminent execution.
"Don't get any weird ideas!"
Seeing her expression, Lot immediately rolled up a sheet of paper and bonked Artoria on the head.
"Mordred was created through magecraft. None of that nonsense you're imagining."
"Oh."
Relieved, Artoria rubbed her head.
"What's there to be scared of? He's not that terrifying."
Mordred sneered at Artoria's reaction.
"Oh? Really?"
Lot turned to Mordred with a devilish grin.
"Remember what Morgan told you?"