Unknownfate
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Chapter 52
🕑 Added 2025-03-29 01:27:17 +0000 UTCMordred walked through the halls of the castle with quick and steady steps. Having been entrusted with a mission by her father she was eager to perform it. She had already been entrusted with a task twice!
Clearly, that was proof that she was the most trusted knight, the best and strongest. So she was determined to carry out this task perfectly.
And it just so happened that the task did suit her tastes as well. To enforce her father’s will, to open up Camelot to the world.
It was only fair the entire world got to witness her father's greatness. And they should all just serve her obediently.
She smirked, her thoughts racing ahead to the barricades awaiting her outside the castle gates. She couldn’t help but scuff at the fact they built walls against Camelot.
Treating like some threat or something to keep separate from the rest of the realm. How dare they, this land was all her father’s, and one day it would be hers.
It didn’t take her all that long before she reached the gates, which swung open before her. Letting her see what lay beyond the white walls of Camelot.
Mordred narrowed her eyes, her smirk turning into a scowl as she took in the sight. The barricades were crude—wooden beams reinforced with metal sheets, and barbed wires. Hardly worthy to be near Camelot.
Her gaze flicked to the guards stationed behind the barricades. Large jeeps and heavy weapons are mounted to vehicles and placed on the ground, all to be turned against Camelot at a moment's notice.
She had watched them before, those ant-like people, from atop the towers and walls. And she could already see the change.
Normally they were bored, spending time just hanging out, not training or anything. Now however, they seemed alert, on edge, ready to attack at any moment.
With a snort of disdain, she started walking towards them. They had naturally long since spotted her, and that only made them all the more nervous.
They knew the appearance of her armor; they knew who approached them: Mordred, the knight of rebellion.
Even she had to admit her mother did a damn good job when making it. it made her look scary as hell. Everyone knew she was trouble, and she liked that; it gave her respect, though she could do without the fearful peasants.
When she got close, she didn’t hesitate to shout loudly. “Hey! By the order of your king, tear down the barricade!”
The guards flinched, exchanging frantic glances as her voice rang out like thunder across the field. One of them—a man with sergeant stripes on his sleeve—stepped forward hesitantly, his rifle trembling slightly in his hands.
“We can’t do that,” he called back, trying to steady his voice. “We have orders to maintain this position. No one enters or leaves without government clearance.”
Mordred rolled her eyes. “Well I just gave you new orders… also, hand over your weapons, by the king’s decree, the military is disbanded, so you don’t have permission to carry or use em.”
The sergeant’s face paled, and the grip on his rifle tightened instinctively. Behind him, a few of the younger soldiers shifted uneasily, whispering amongst themselves. One of them lowered his weapon slightly, his fingers twitching as he considered her words.
“You don’t have the authority,” the sergeant shot back, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his lack of confidence. “We answer to the government, not some ancient myth brought back from the grave.”
Her gaze narrowed, and the playful tone in her voice vanished, replaced by cold steel. “The military is gone. Disbanded. And unless you want to be marked as traitors to the Crown, you’ll drop those weapons now!”
While Mordred spoke to the file and rank, those in command were quickly discussing the situation. They weren’t about to disband the military or start taking orders from some medieval king.
But currently, the prime minister is still inside the city of Camelot, held up by the other curious people asking questions without a break and slowing down their leave.
With him still inside the city, the military was hesitant about going too far, fearing for his safety. Yet capitulating here was also impossible, as it would be seen as them legitimating their claims and decrees.
The whole situation was steeped in politics and far from simple. Yet Modred was someone rather simple, to her, all problems could be solved with a sword, and her sword was something she was rather proud of.
“Enough of this stalling! If you do not comply with the king’s orders, I will enforce it!” Mordred shouted, having lost her patience.
The sergeant stiffened before finally making a decision. “We can’t hand over our weapons; they would have to be properly disposed off and stored, but we will remove the barricade for now.” He said, quickly shouting orders at his men.
Mordred wanted to complain, but the man had already run off, leaving her unable to do more than huff again. Still, he didn’t care too much; the weapons hardly mattered as long as her father’s orders were carried out.
Still, the soldiers worked slowly, far too slowly for her liking. “Too slow,” she called out and walked up to a section of the barricade, a mix of wood, sheet metal, and barbed wire, and gave it a kick.
The force of her armored boot was enough to send the wooden beams splintering apart, the metal sheets bending under the impact with a shrill screech. Barbed wire snapped and recoiled like angry serpents, but Mordred remained unfazed. She kicked another section, watching it crumble with satisfaction.
"That's how you do it," she said, turning to the soldiers, her eyes narrowing with disdain. "Move faster, or I’ll tear down the whole thing myself.”
The soldiers in question had to throw themselves to the ground to avoid getting hit by bits of wood her kick sent flying. While those barricades weren’t the strongest, taking them down like that wasn’t easy.
Even though they worked as fast as they could, it would take days to take it all down. After all, they had spent weeks building them.
The actions of Mordred and the soldiers weren’t unnoticed by the many people gathered around Camelot. They, too, had seen the TV interview, including the announcements, and had plenty of questions.
Now, seeing a knight of the Round Table, they surged towards them, eager to ask into everything that came up during the interview, in particular about the decrees.
It all happened so fast. The soldiers were on edge, with mixed feelings about what they were doing. It didn’t help that they had unclear orders, and now, a huge crowd was storming the area.
A cacophony of voices filled the air as they bombarded Mordred and the soldiers with questions.
“Is it true we won’t be paying taxes for a whole year?”
“What’s going to happen to the banks?”
“Are the utilities really going to be owned by the Crown now?”
Then, one soldier decided to stop them; after all, they had orders to ensure they didn’t enter Camelot or move past the barricade. “Hey! Stop right there, you can’t enter.”
There was nothing wrong with what he did; this had happened countless times since the barricade had been established. Yet, this time something was different.
Mordred was there. and Mordred didn’t take the aggressive tone lightly. So she stepped up and roughly shoved the guy’s shoulder. “Hey! You can’t say that; the barricade is done, the people can enter the city, so says the king!”
The poor guy could never have expected the force behind even a casual shove like that, and he wasn’t just pushed back, he was thrown away, flying a few meters through the air before crashing into the ground.
His comrades, initially frozen in shock, quickly sprang into action. Rifles were raised, boots hit the dirt, and defensive stances were taken as orders were barked over radios. The sergeant was the first to shout.
“That’s assault! Stand down, now!” His voice cracked slightly, betraying his panic as he gestured frantically for backup.
Mordred, seeing the rifles aimed at her, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Really?” she scoffed. “You’re going to point those toys at me?”
The corporal from earlier stepped forward, his face pale but his hands steady on his weapon. “Put your sword down, Sir Mordred! This is a breach of protocol. We won’t hesitate to defend ourselves!”
Mordred rolled her shoulders, loosening her grip on her sword only to grip it tighter moments later. The thrill of a fight was already building within her veins. “I don’t care about your protocols. I follow one order—my king’s. You’re defying it.”
“We’re following government orders!” the sergeant yelled, visibly shaken but determined to maintain control. “Stand down, or we will open fire.”
A few in the crowd gasped, some already backing away to avoid being caught in the crossfire, while others pressed closer, eager to see what would happen next.
“Fire on me?” Mordred’s voice darkened, her smirk vanishing. “You dare point weapons at the rightful heir of Camelot!? That’s treason! She shouted angrily.”
One of the nervous soldiers, with their lacking training, ended up firing it, whatever on purpose or by accident, a pullet flew and hit the armor of Mordred.
And before anyone could react to it, Mordred swung her sword, and the young man who had fired at her was cut in half. His body offered no resistance to the sharpness of Clarent.
The world seemed to freeze as everyone took in what had just happened. However, it didn’t last long.
The silence shattered like glass.
“Open fire!” the sergeant roared, his voice filled with desperation and rage.
Gunfire erupted, the deafening roar of rifles filling the air as the soldiers unleashed everything they had. Bullets streaked toward Mordred, sparking against her armor like firecrackers.
Just as the chaos unfolded, and bullets started filling the air, a powerful voice cut through the chaos.
"By my oath as a guardian,
I shield the innocent and crush the wicked!
Pater Aeternum – Shield of the Eternal Steward!"
At some point, Sir Ector had appeared, and he unleashed his noble phantasm, manifesting a large golden shield in the air, which shed golden light onto the innocent crowds.
The bullets that had been haphazardly flying toward the crowd were absorbed into the shield, vanishing into its protective light as if they had never existed. The air buzzed with the energy of Sir Ector’s noble phantasm, and for a moment, the battlefield was painted in divine gold.
“Nice one!” Shouted Modred, who hadn’t thought about how she should protect the crowd from the bullets, but now, with that taken care of, she could instead jump into the fighting.
She unleashed her own powers, red lightning flashing around her as her mana churned, and she flashed between the attacking soldiers, moving with speed far beyond a normal human.
She was little more than a blur as she cut them apart, man by man, woman by woman, she showed no mercy to her enemy. The sharpest sword on the Round Table flashes again and again, reaping life after life.
The soldiers were in disarray, unable to fight back at all. The protective powers of Ector’s noble phantasm weren’t something normal guns could overcome. And Mordred reaped their lives as easy as a farmer does wheat.
Blood sprayed across the dirt as Mordred slashed her way through the chaotic battlefield, Clarent dripping with blood, as did her armor as it got covered in blood showers.
Sir Ector, holding the glowing shield in place, glanced at the carnage with a grim expression. “Mordred, enough! They’re defeated!” His voice carried authority, but it didn’t slow her assault.
Another soldier fell, his rifle clattering uselessly to the ground as Mordred twisted mid-air, her armor gleaming in the afternoon light. The ferocity in her eyes burned like a wildfire.
“They dared to raise their weapons at Camelot!” Mordred shouted, her blade slicing through the barrel of another gun before embedding itself into the chest of its wielder. “This is what happens to traitors!”
Ector gritted his teeth and stepped forward, planting the shield firmly in the ground. Its light expanded in a wave, not just protecting the civilians but radiating an aura that pushed back Mordred’s bloodlust like a calming tide.
“Mordred!” he called again, his voice deeper this time, resonating with power. “The king doesn’t need corpses—he needs obedience and order. Do not tarnish our cause with slaughter.”
Mordred froze mid-swing, Clarent crackling with residual energy as her blade hovered inches from another soldier’s throat. The man trembled, tears streaming down his face as he awaited death.
Slowly, Mordred pulled back her sword, her breathing heavy. The red lightning that had been dancing around her like a storm faded into crackling sparks before disappearing entirely. She looked over her shoulder at Ector, annoyance flickering across her face.
“They deserved this,” she muttered.
Ector approached, his gaze stern but understanding. “Perhaps. But we fight for a better future, not for vengeance.”
The soldier at her feet gasped for breath, scrambling backward as Mordred turned fully to face Ector. “Next time, don’t stop me,” she warned, though her tone carried less venom than before.
“I won’t.” Ector Replied. “Should there be a next time, I shall join you in bloodying my blade by your side.”
Mordred nodded and returned her sword to her side. “Fine, and you lot, get that barricade down, this is the command of your king, now you know what happens to traitors, so better obey this time.”
The soldiers dared not hesitate, they were so scared that they had all lost their grip on their weapons, many could barely stand, yet at Mordred’s orders, they couldn’t help but jump to work.
The crowd saw everything that happened. Many fled in a panic, but those more brave stopped once the golden light appeared. Once they confirmed that it was safe and protected them, they stayed to watch.
Among those people weren’t just normal civilians but also reporters, who had captured everything live on camera. So now the entire world had seen what happened.
Billions had seen it, the short but brutal battle, or rather the one-sided slaughter. In this day and age, such a thing isn’t seen by most people. They lived far removed from such bloodshed. Many people were frightened, sickened, or fascinated by this rare sight.
While Mordred cared little for such things, Ector was far more wise to the feelings of those around him. So he knew that this moment was important. “Sir Mordred, why don’t you report what happened here to the king? Let this old man deal with the cleanup.”
Ector had raised Arthuria, so he knew how to handle her, and he figure that handling Mordred wasn’t all that different. And he was quickly proven correct, as when Mordred heard that there was cleaning to do, she quickly took the bait to rush back to Camelot.
Ector could only sigh as the blood-soaked knight ran off, leaving him with a ton of work to do.
