"Mordred has already been eliminated..."
Within the royal palace of the Holy City, the Lion King muttered softly from atop the throne.
In the solemn stillness of the chamber, even such a faint voice reached the ears of the gathered Knights of the Round Table.
Agravain, the king's aide, along with Gawain and Tristan—tasked with Camelot's defense—instinctively turned to face their ruler. They assumed the Lion King had either foreseen something or learned of news not yet reported to Camelot.
"Your Majesty, Mordred is still within her domain. There's been no word of an attack from the Sun King or any other faction," Agravain inquired respectfully. "May I be so bold as to ask—has something changed?"
The Lion King only parted her lips slightly, as if sighing silently, but her voice remained cold and indifferent.
"Mordred is unharmed. What I spoke of was merely a trivial matter. Continue with the previous discussion."
The king's vague words left the three knights uneasy, but none dared press further.
Even a single unnecessary question could result in the Lion King delivering punishment with her Holy Lance.
"The Enforcement Knight in charge of reconnaissance reports that Morgan and her group have taken in a large number of refugees who escaped the Holy Punishment. They appear to be heading toward the mountain people's village," Agravain reported.
Tristan frowned in thought. "But the western village has already been destroyed. Only the eastern village remains, and it's protected by the Assassin-class Servant, the Old Man of the Mountain. Our Enforcement Knights can't easily reach that location."
"That region is quite close to Mordred's territory. Should we assign Sir Mordred to handle the search and assault?" Gawain proposed.
After a moment's thought, Agravain nodded. "That seems quite reasonable. What is Your Majesty's will?"
"...Send word to Lancelot. Have him leave his guerrilla post and move into the wilderness to relieve Mordred. He will take over the mission to locate and strike the mountain people's settlement," the Lion King ordered, contrary to their expectations.
Agravain hesitated. "Why assign this to Lancelot? Wouldn't it be more efficient to have Mordred, who is already nearby, pursue them—?"
His words were silenced by the Lion King's chilling gaze.
After a brief pause, she spoke.
"There are only three Chaldea personnel interfering with the 'Holy Selection.'"
"The King means... Chaldea has split into two groups, and Morgan's appearance in the Holy City was just a diversion..." Tristan narrowed his eyes. "A clever ploy. From the moment Morgan appeared before us, the Round Table had no choice but to stay alert and keep tracking her. How sorrowful..."
"If Morgan's escort of the refugees was merely a feint," Gawain realized, "then the King intends for Mordred to track down the other Chaldea members who are still unaccounted for. There's a strong chance they'll make contact with her again."
Just days ago, Mordred had been reprimanded by the King for showing inexplicable mercy during a clash with Chaldea.
Judging by the behavior of the Master the King had ordered captured alive, there seemed to be some kind of past connection between Chaldea and Mordred. The Mordred summoned to this Singularity by the Lion King clearly recognized some of them.
But even from the beginning, the Lion King's trust in Mordred had its limits. She was only permitted to enter the Holy City during the daytime—her nights were spent patrolling the wilds.
The Lion King had even bestowed the Gift of Rampage upon her, unrequested, intending for Mordred to fight until the last drop of her blood was spilled for the King's grand design.
"Then we should assign covert eyes to shadow Mordred during her search. The moment any remaining Chaldea members are spotted, we'll launch an immediate annihilation strike," Agravain added to the Lion King's orders.
The Lion King gave no response. As always, she sat unmoved upon the throne, her gaze cast toward the knights before her—yet clearly indifferent to their presence.
"The specifics are yours to handle. Just report the final outcome to me. Everything else is trivial," the Lion King said.
The three knights immediately bowed. "As you command!"
They then exited the audience hall one after another to carry out their respective duties.
The Lion King watched their figures vanish beyond the doors, her expression unchanged. Remaining on the throne, she slowly closed her eyes and entered meditation.
What she had said earlier—"Mordred has been killed"—had not referred to events within this Singularity.
She had been speaking of "Camlann Hill," the place where Tenkei Shiomi now fought.
This Holy City was, in truth, the Tower of the End. As a goddess wielding its divine authority, the Lion King had used its power to create a completely self-contained space—imprisoning Shiomi within it posed no difficulty at all.
It was both punishment and a trial.
The Lion King would cast aside any power that was merely superficial. What she sought was someone like Shiomi—one capable of ascending to the Throne of the Gods. Only a being of godhood was worthy of standing with her at the world's end.
She had recreated her final battle with Mordred using the power of the tower. Mordred, however, now bore the Gift of Rampage.
Even under a relentless tide of unleashed Noble Phantasms, Shiomi found an opening and drove his crimson spear through Mordred's heart, ending the sunset duel.
At that very moment, Shiomi was already locked in a second, unrelenting battle. The Lion King, by entering meditation, could observe him from the closest vantage.
This time, his opponent was the Sword Emperor Lucius.
A Roman emperor who had once opposed her, wielding the deep crimson magic sword Florent.
Lucius's blade was considered a sibling to Clarent—the sword Mordred had stolen.
The Lion King still remembered the grueling clash she'd had with the Sword Emperor at Swash Valley.
But... there was something she couldn't recall.
That man had overwhelmed even Gawain, despite his solar blessing... But who was the other knight who'd stood beside him then...?
A sharp pang throbbed in the Lion King's head.
Perhaps her mind had lapsed for a moment—or perhaps the Sword Emperor still lacked the strength to land a fatal blow.
Suddenly, Shiomi executed a breathtaking counter—dodging Lucius's thrust and, as the emperor attempted a strike from behind, driving his spear straight into Lucius's throat.
Shiomi, however, didn't appear unscathed. Blood covered his body, and his breath came in shallow gasps.
"Impressive," the Lion King murmured softly.
But Shiomi couldn't hear her.
And even if he could, he wouldn't have had the time or composure to care.
For now, the final and most dangerous enemy had revealed himself at last.
His name was Vortigern—the Tyrant King, born of Britannia, the white dragon incarnate who sought to destroy the very land of his birth.