Mordred was born from a beautiful vision.
She had known this since she could remember, from the mouth of her mother, Morgan—one of the brilliant Twin Kings of Britain, the great Queen renowned for her wisdom.
Morgan seemingly had no intention of hiding it; after Mordred grew to a certain age, she told her everything. Morgan said: "Your birth was because of my love for a single person."
Her life's trajectory was also pre-determined: to understand the world, to grow, to learn, until she finally became a qualified King who could shoulder the entirety of Britain in Morgan's stead.
Although years later Mordred realized this was merely because Morgan wanted to live a quiet life with that person and planned to dump her responsibilities on Mordred to become a hands-off ruler, at least back then, Mordred was happy. She truly took becoming a powerful King as her dream and pursuit. For her, it represented Morgan's recognition and expectation—the symbol of her mother's love.
Perhaps because she was born of love, Mordred possessed a deep obsession with being acknowledged and loved.
However, she soon discovered that after a certain day, her mother, Morgan, seemed to have become a different person.
In the past, though Morgan was an ice beauty most of the time, she would occasionally show a smile and tenderness when facing Mordred. But after that day, Mordred never saw another trace of a smile on her mother. Even that gentleness and affection nearly vanished; to be precise, her mother's gaze rarely even lingered on her anymore.
Why did this happen? Mordred did not understand. What must a person experience to suddenly become like someone else, to become unlike themselves?
She had questions, but no answers. She understood that Morgan had closed off her heart, developing her country to be strong and prosperous as if fulfilling a promise. The expectation once held for Mordred was gone. Morgan's eyes grew cold and obsessed; she gazed toward a distance leading to nowhere, and thus could no longer see the person beside her.
Despite knowing this, Mordred refused to give up. She wanted to be recognized by her mother, to share her burdens, and to find that lost warmth and smile. Even if she harvested nothing but disappointment and indifference in the years that followed, she would not yield.
Mordred firmly believed she was the Child of the King of Camelot. Born of expectations, even if she had lost that favor, she would find a way to reclaim it.
To achieve all this and earn Mother's recognition, what should I do first? Mordred pondered.
Then, she saw King Arthur, famous for her strength, and her Knights of the Round Table.
That's it. I should first become a knight—a knight loyal to Mother.
After learning of King Arthur's heroic deeds and the stories of her knights, this thought arose naturally. The reason was simple: Mordred had never seen anyone holding the status of "Knight" by Morgan's side.
Even if Morgan neglected her, Mordred had received the education befitting a King's child. She understood that in Britain, where chivalry flourished, every King should have the loyalty of knights. Yet, under her mother Morgan, there wasn't a single knight.
This puzzled Mordred, but she didn't dwell on it. Mother has no knights? Simple. I will be her knight.
With this thought, Mordred set King Arthur—the so-called King of Knights—as her target, vowing to become a knight as strong as, or even stronger than, Arthur. By then, her mother would have a knight; the Wise King would not only be "Wise" but also "Powerful." Mordred alone would be Morgan's Knights of the Round Table.
From then on, Mordred worked even harder, learning combat techniques and everything a great knight should know. Under these circumstances, it took her less than three years to awaken the blessing Morgan had given her during her creation:
[Mana Burst (Lightning)]
This heavenly power from nature was just like her swordsmanship and personality: wild and passionate. Every move carried immense force, pressing down on opponents like royal authority. Due to the Red Dragon blood hidden in her body and factors at the soul level, Mordred's lightning was not the common blue or purple lightning found in nature, but a more powerful and ferocious "Crimson Lightning."
Relying on this signature power, Mordred gained a reputation, known by bards as "Mordred of the Crimson Lightning."
Unfortunately, even though Mordred had become extremely strong—strong enough to match the level of the Round Table—Morgan still did not spare her a second glance. The Queen's mind seemed forever occupied by other matters.
Receiving no feedback despite her efforts, even the resilient and optimistic Mordred felt the blow. It was at this time that her life reached a turning point.
King Arthur killed the Roman Sword Emperor in one strike, publicly announced her abdication, and yielded the throne to Queen Morgan. The Knights of the Round Table also came under Morgan's command.
This series of unexpected changes left Mordred bewildered. Wasn't I supposed to be Mother's only knight? To rival Arthur and the Round Table alone? How did the Round Table suddenly belong to Mother while I was sleeping?
What was the point of all my hard work? Mordred fell into deep self-doubt.
It was then that Morgan suddenly approached her and informed her that she was to go and live with King Arthur for a period of time. These words caused Mordred to panic instantly. Does Mother find me too noisy and troublesome? Does she want to distance herself from me?
Mordred felt a surge of grievance. She admitted she was reckless and unrefined, but everything she did was to earn her mother's love and recognition. To be sent away was unbearable.
She was ready to protest and beg for another chance when Morgan spoke a single sentence: "She can be considered your Father-King."
Mordred froze completely. The words she wanted to say vanished. King Arthur? Artoria Pendragon? My... Father-King?
But Mother, don't you always call her "that woman"? Why is King Arthur, a woman, my Father-King? And what is the relationship between you and her...
Mordred's little head suffered a massive shock. In this state of CPU overload, she was muddledly sent to Essex, where she met Artoria, her "Father-King," who had been waiting for her.
To her surprise, Artoria—who had never married—was very affectionate and gentle toward this "illegitimate child." Mordred could feel that the way Artoria looked at her was the same as Morgan's gaze from long ago: warm, joyful, and filled with a trace of longing.
And like Morgan, Artoria loved staring into Mordred's eyes, as if seeing something particularly beloved in those blue depths.
Hmm... Mordred pondered. So, is this "Motherly Love"? No, "Fatherly Love"?
Though she didn't understand it, Mordred could feel the connection in their blood. She began living with Artoria. Through her "Father-King," she finally experienced the feeling of family and being loved. She was mesmerized and immersed in it.
But this did not make Mordred lose her way. She still knew what she wanted. Even if "Father-King" was good to her, she still craved Morgan's recognition. She asked Artoria to teach her, moving toward the goal of becoming even stronger.
Artoria naturally doted on this child who, in a sense, belonged to both him and her. She did not refuse. Hoping their child would inherit his martial arts, she taught Mordred everything she knew.
Mordred tirelessly absorbed this knowledge. Her efforts were recognized by the Knights of the Round Table who came to visit. Though shocked to learn she was the child of Morgan, the King, and that person, the knights grew to love and accept her.
During this time, Mordred heard the story of that person from Artoria. It happened while learning the "Intercepting Flow" technique; Mordred sensed something in Artoria's tone and expression. Combined with the fragments she had heard from servants, commoners, and knights, her curiosity drove her to ask about the knight named "Lamorak."
"He was... a hero who saved us all."
Under the autumn sun, the golden-haired woman sat on a haystack in the fields, gazing at the slowly flowing river nearby. Memory flickered in her forest-like cyan eyes.
"A hero?" Beside her, Mordred, with her pale gold hair in a high ponytail, looked curious. Due to being a homunculus and the Red Dragon blood, though only eight or nine years old, she had the appearance of a fifteen-year-old girl. Though her chest was as flat as Artoria's used to be.
"Yes. He was not only a hero, but a noble and great knight." Artoria smiled faintly, gently patting Mordred's head. "And he had clear, gentle blue eyes, just like yours, Mo."
"I see..." Mordred blinked, trying to construct the appearance of Lamorak in her mind.
Seeing Mordred deep in thought, Artoria's smile widened. She pulled Mordred into her arms and told her the story of the past. The girl, the flowing water, the fairy, the oath, the night talks, the White Dragon, and the story of sacrifice and salvation.
Though much time had passed and the person was gone, the story was etched into Artoria's heart. There might have been deception, and the ending was a tragedy, but at least this story saved a girl about to be lost in the lies of destiny and rescued an era that was to be abandoned.
Now, the story was being passed to their child.
"So, this hero knight named Lamorak is very important to both you and Mother?" As the sun set and the stars emerged, Mordred asked after hearing the whole story.
"Mhm." Artoria nodded gently.
"I wish I could have seen for myself what kind of person he was," Mordred said with a sigh.
Artoria was stunned for a moment, then smiled. "You will. We will definitely see him." She repeated it softly to herself: "Definitely."
Life continued as usual. The grown Mordred joined the Knights of the Round Table, which now belonged to Morgan. Being the youngest and the last to join, she held the final seat, after Lancelot's son, Galahad. Mordred was unhappy with being "last," but under Morgan's cold gaze and the consolation of senior knights, she had to accept it.
Later, Britain began its inevitable decline from prosperity to decay. Artoria passed away peacefully with expectations in her heart. After governing the country well, Queen Morgan chose to leave without a word, suddenly disappearing.
The King's disappearance led to chaos. Pushed by foreign powers, some lords began fighting over Camelot's territory. The Round Table sought the Holy Grail to find Morgan and reverse the decline, but they all met their respective ends through various factors.
Gawain, Tristan, Agravain, and the siblings Gaheris and Gareth died during the conflict with rebels, victims of ambushes, schemes, and poison. Lancelot had returned to France with Guinevere; upon hearing of the chaos, he returned to help but accidentally perished in the English Channel. Percival, Galahad, and others went to a distant land for the Grail; the former died on the way, while the latter eventually sacrificed his life to the Grail.
In the end, only Mordred remained.
She suffered frequent nightmares. A vast, ethereal voice in her dreams told her: You are the Terminator of the Round Table, the one who destroys Britain, the Treacherous Knight. You should join the rebels and destroy everything.
This voice rang in her head every night. Mordred nearly collapsed from the mental pollution. But just as she was about to fall into the abyss, a blue power like flowing water, originating from deep within her body, woke her up.
She then knew who the voice belonged to: The Will of the World.
Heh, do you really underestimate me that much? My favorite thing is saying "No" to those who think they can control me!
To hell with the Will of the World and cursed destiny! You want to assimilate me? I'll smash your calculations and delusions to pieces! You call me the Treacherous Knight? Fine. I'll show you the greatest, strongest rebellion!
Three months later, on Camlann Hill, Mordred leaned on the weapon she found in her mother's treasury—The Radiant and Brilliant Royal Sword (Clarent). She stood atop a mountain of rebel corpses, just like that knight from the past. Her body was riddled with arrows that had pierced through her.
She, Mordred, Child of the King of Camelot and the last Knight of the Round Table, had killed every rebel who dared to rise. Through this, she preserved the final name of the Kingdom of Camelot.
The so-called Treacherous Knight is one who, with her own strength, rebels against the world, smashes destiny, and points her crimson blade toward all arrogance.
In her final moments, there was no sadness in Mordred's heart, only expectation and obsession. She hoped that in the future, she would gain her mother's recognition, see her "Father-King" and colleagues again, and meet the hero named Lamorak.
Britain Volume, End.