You Lack the Bearing to Become King
"Boom—!"
A thunderous roar suddenly rang out in front of the main gate of Round Table Fortress.
Explosive flames surged like waves, mixed with a storm of black magical energy as they expanded outward like an explosion.
At the very center of the blast, red lightning flashed. Mordred's figure shot through it like a bolt of lightning and burst out.
"Damn it!"
Mordred's heart was filled with fury and irritation. She shouted as she relentlessly darted toward Artoria [Alter].
In her hand, she already gripped a sword shining with silvery-white radiance.
The red lightning around Mordred's body began surging from that sword, flowing throughout her entire body.
So...
"This time, I'll chop you to pieces, Father King!"
Mordred shouted in a voice laced with hatred and rage. She darted before Artoria [Alter], raised the sword flashing with scarlet lightning high overhead, and brought it crashing down toward Artoria [Alter]'s head.
"Clang!"
The black sacred sword immediately swept up like a flash of darkness, blocking the descending lightning sword and causing red lightning to erupt.
Artoria [Alter] firmly parried Mordred's blow. Looking at Mordred's face, full of hatred and rage, she spoke coldly.
"Your swordsmanship is as crude as ever. You discarded etiquette and the Chivalric Code entirely, existing only for slaughter. No wonder you were willing to become the mad dog the King of Lions uses to bite people."
As she spoke, Artoria [Alter] glanced at the sword in Mordred's hand and continued calmly.
"It is truly a waste for this sword to have fallen into your hands."
Artoria [Alter] had every reason to say that.
The sword Mordred wielded had originally belonged to Artoria [Alter].
As the legendary monarch of Great Britain, Artoria's most famous weapon in life had undoubtedly been the