"Hahahaha!! Where are you?! Come out, you cowards! Fight me face to face!!"
Red lightning wrapped around a short-statured knight as they rampaged through the crumbling city, making it even more uninhabitable. The raw energy spilling from their frame screamed berserker, even if the class wasn't.
They didn't know where the enemies were hiding—so they simply destroyed everything around them. Why wait for a trap when you could erase all possible ambushes?
And besides, their mana was too wild to control. If they didn't release it soon, they'd explode. So why not go wild?
Yes, this was good. Their sword was strong. Their mana was vast. If anyone had a problem with it, they could take it up with her blade.
"Ahahahaha!! Come out and fight me, damn it!!"
From the shadows, the two Hassans watched the destruction with grim expressions.
"What kind of monster is this?" muttered Serenity.
"She's like a walking disaster," said Shadow-Peeling. "Getting hit even once would be lethal."
Time to thin out the weaker knights first. Shadow-Peeling moved like a phantom, sliding behind each enemy and placing a hand on their temples. Electricity surged through their skulls, and many collapsed with one final auditory hallucination:
"Are you still awake? Are you still awake...?"
As the lesser knights fell, only one remained—their true target.
The berserker.
The two assassins exchanged a look. Serenity went first, vanishing into the fog to strike.
But the knight—even through the mist—sensed the attack. As the dagger flashed out, she spun around and caught Hassan's wrist, crushing it with brute strength.
"You little rats really are sneaky," she said, grinning beneath the bull-helm. "But did you think you could sneak up on me? I'm King Arthur's only child—Mordred of the Round Table!"
Red lightning surged through her blade as it cleaved into Serenity, splitting him from shoulder to chest. Blood sprayed from under the skull mask.
But Hassan had been prepared for this.
He grabbed onto Mordred's sword-arm, forcing the blade deeper.
"Agh... We never underestimated you. But I've caught you... GO!"
Shadow-Peeling leapt from behind, lightning dancing across his palms. "Delusion Zabanya!!"
Mordred's eyes widened—then lit up with delight. Yes! This was what she lived for! This is how a knight should die: head-on, in a blaze of magic and rage.
She poured mana into her sword. Its hilt opened, revealing its true form. The Noble Phantasm was unleashed, not with a name, but silently—a raw, churning beam of destruction.
She didn't even hesitate to take the attack directly. Her arm tore open. Blood spilled. But she fought through it.
"You lunatic!!" Shadow-Peeling Hassan shouted.
Lightning exploded through the fog, consuming all.
When the smoke cleared, the two assassins were gone.
Mordred looked at her broken arm, then laughed wildly. She slammed her sword into the ground, tilted her head back, and howled with joy.
"Ahahahahaha!! Damn, that was awesome!"
She needed a rest. But soon, she'd return to the front lines and tear through the next fool who dared oppose her.
---
At that same moment, back when the Holy Lance had first fallen and the Sword of Victory had risen to meet it, a witch in a black veil lifted her eyes skyward.
The magic... the light... so familiar.
She hadn't seen this brilliance in over a thousand years.
She didn't know why he had appeared now, but it didn't matter. The king who sat in Camelot was not the one she knew.
This was not her Camelot.
-End Chapter-
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