Mordred and Artoria's eyes remained locked onto each other, not wavering for even a single moment. Neither of them took the initiative to attack recklessly. Instead, they remained motionless, using their own presence and the pressure they emitted to crush the determination of their opponent.
It was an invisible battle.
A war of wills.
A clash of convictions.
And in this silent contest, Artoria quickly began losing ground.
But that was only natural.
After all, this duel between king and king was, to a certain extent, a form of "charity" offered by the winning side.
In the war between army against army, Artoria had already been completely defeated.
The losses between both sides were absurdly different.
Camelot had lost more than forty percent of its troops.
Meanwhile, Mordred's side hadn't even reached ten percent.
The difference was practically four to one.
If the battle continued like that, Artoria's defeat would become inevitable.
However, she also could not propose a duel herself.
Because if the side at a disadvantage requested an individual battle, it would practically be the same as begging for mercy.
But Mordred had taken the initiative.
Which turned the act into something resembling a concession offered to the weaker side.
Thus, even if Artoria emerged victorious, the final result could only be considered a draw.
Naturally...
Her momentum was at a disadvantage.
"...This really won't work."
Artoria frowned slightly.
"We can't continue this stalemate. We need to settle this quickly."
She possessed absolute confidence in her own strength.
Initially, she had believed she could defeat Mordred purely through the pressure she exerted.
But instead, she had suffered a loss.
Mordred's determination was simply too strong.
Artoria knew very well:
If she continued competing like this, she would lose half the battle before their swords even crossed.
What she didn't know was that before the duel even started, Leon had practically ignited Mordred's fighting spirit completely.
Those words had set her soul ablaze.
Otherwise, competing solely in willpower against the experienced King of Knights would have been extremely difficult.
Without further hesitation, Artoria took a step forward.
Then—
BOOM!!
A violent explosion of wind erupted beneath her feet.
Wind magic wrapped around her entire body, and her speed instantly surged to its limit.
"Very well!"
BOOM!!
Mordred did not fall behind.
Violent crimson lightning exploded around her body.
In an instant, she transformed into a scarlet bolt and charged directly toward Artoria.
CLANG!!!
The dazzling Clarent collided head-on against Excalibur.
The sound of the impact was so deafening that countless people instinctively covered their ears.
Thanks to the absurd quality of both weapons, neither shattered upon impact.
After all, both of their speeds were outrageous.
With the blessing of wind and scarlet lightning, the clash between the two resembled the collision of two supersonic fighter jets.
"Kuh...!"
"Ghhh!"
Both of their hands went numb.
For a moment, they nearly lost their weapons.
But at that exact moment—
Artoria's eyes flashed.
Without hesitation, she moved her left hand.
The tip of the Holy Lance, Rhongomyniad, pointed directly toward Mordred.
Unlike her opponent, she possessed two weapons.
Now that Clarent and Excalibur were locked against each other, Mordred had no means of blocking the lance's strike.
But Mordred smiled.
"Defend?! Who needs that?!"
Her voice echoed throughout the battlefield.
"CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!!"
"WHAT?!"
Even Artoria was shocked.
She knew Mordred was reckless.
But she hadn't expected this level of recklessness.
She activated her Noble Phantasm without the slightest hesitation.
Without any concern for knightly ethics.
She was practically a human bomb.
But...
Artoria had to admit it:
It worked perfectly.
In an instant, she made her judgment.
Rhongomyniad was stabbed into the ground.
Both hands gripped Excalibur.
A single hand wouldn't be enough to withstand the force of a two-handed sword.
And besides—
Artoria definitely did not want to receive Mordred's Noble Phantasm directly to the face.
If she insisted on attacking with the Holy Lance, Mordred might die...
But she would probably be dragged down with her.
BOOOOOOOM!!!
Scarlet lightning began gathering around Clarent.
The entire sword became enveloped in an intense crimson glow.
Then—
A gigantic pillar of red energy shot into the heavens.
It was as if Mordred's emotions themselves had taken form.
Her rage.
Her desire.
Her obsession.
Her will to crush the person standing before her.
Artoria felt the scarlet thunder travel through Excalibur and invade her arms.
Her muscles went numb.
"...I have no choice."
Artoria took a deep breath.
Her expression turned solemn.
Then—
Golden lights began emerging from the ground.
All converging toward the sword in her hands.
Those lights were the wills of every soldier who had died on battlefields throughout the past, present, and future.
And then—
The King of Knights raised her sword.
"EXCALIBUR!!"
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
A gigantic golden pillar pierced through the heavens.
At that instant—
Everyone fell silent.
Allies.
Enemies.
Even the observers hidden in the shadows.
Everyone was completely stunned.
It was too beautiful.
Too divine.
The girl holding that light looked so sacred that nobody could even think of defiling her.
Everyone became captivated.
Except for a single person.
Leon.
He watched everything in silence.
Then sighed.
"...It truly is dazzling."
His eyes slowly closed.
"But that's exactly why... it's sad."
The legend said that the power of the Holy Sword prevented Artoria from aging.
And yet...
Her true age was only that of a young girl.
Not much different from the noble daughters of Palettia.
Such a young girl was carrying an entire country on her shoulders.
Bearing so many expectations, hopes, dreams, and ideals.
Even while standing on opposing sides...
Leon was also a king.
And so he completely understood the weight of that light.
It was far too heavy for someone so young.
Leon admired Artoria's ideals.
But they were the opposite of his own.
In the world Leon wished to create...
There would be no need for a girl to carry everything alone.
Someone carrying all expectations...
All hope...
All glory...
Leon alone was enough.
Compared to a decaying Britain...
A girl like Artoria possessed far greater value.
And so, at that moment—
He made his decision.
Artoria Pendragon was worth more than all of Britain.
"In that case..."
Leon slowly opened his eyes.
"I'll save her from those excessive ideals."
And as for the method?
Leon smiled.
"Simple."
"First..."
"We'll destroy those ideals."
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
The two Noble Phantasms collided at point-blank range.
The result was immediate.
The golden light crushed the crimson lightning.
Mordred was violently sent flying backward.
Her feet dragged across the ground, carving deep scars for hundreds of meters.
Smoke exploded around her.
But then—
"Cough...!"
Mordred wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.
And smiled.
"As expected of Excalibur..."
"It's really strong."
She slowly raised her sword.
"But defeating me..."
"Isn't that easy!"
"...What?!"
"How is that possible?!"
"Unbelievable!!"
Exclamations erupted everywhere.
After all...
After taking Excalibur head-on—
Mordred was still standing.
Only Leon revealed a satisfied smile.
"Not bad."
"Not bad at all."
"After fusing liquefied Orihalcum metal with slime armor and adding triple enchantments..."
He smiled in satisfaction.
"The defense really became absurd."
"This experiment was a success."
(End of Chapter)