Mordred returned here again, to the place of the end.
The setting sun was blood-red, corpses were scattered all over the ground, and the entire British military force was almost completely destroyed.
It was destroyed not by fighting with the enemy, but by internal strife.
She was squatting there, with a gunshot piercing her chest, leaving a big hole.
In this rebellion that tore the country in two, she was defeated in the battle with the king and lost her life.
Her eyes gradually lost their luster, and her consciousness was pulled away. At the moment her soul left the world, she didn't know what miracle allowed her to see the figure of the king, her father, again.
The wound she had inflicted on the king was fatal. The king must have been filled with resentment and curses, hating his enemies and lamenting his fate—she had thought so.
But in reality, the father did not show any emotion, but instead gave people a calm impression.
Even though he was pushed to this point, cursing her, scheming against her, and hating her, his father didn't seem to care at all.
It's really sad - "she" thought so.
Because not hating someone who hates you is much more painful than simply hating them in return.
The king left the battlefield with the help of the knights.
"Her" gaze also followed closely, flapping its wings like a bird flying on the battlefield, always following her father's back.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
The knight ran.
The war is over, the blood-red sunset has set, and now the darkness of night dominates the battlefield.
Curses filled the hills where the dead were buried, complaining that they were about to take the living away.
The knight held the reins tightly and clung to the injured white horse.
"King! King Arthur, come here!"
Although he was also injured, the knight still galloped on the battlefield.
The king the knights serve has been captured by the god of death.
Although he defeated the rebels single-handedly, the king himself was fatally wounded.
"Please wake up! Once you get to that forest, you must!"
Breathing rapidly, the knight crossed the mountain of corpses, and his goal was a forest not stained with blood.
"Please stay here now, King. I will call the soldiers here immediately."
The knight leaned the king's body against the tree.
Not even a second can be delayed.
"Please bear with it until then. We will definitely bring the troops here."
The knight saluted the unconscious king and ran towards the white horse.
"—Bedivere."
Before that.
The king, who seemed to be unconscious, called out the knight's name.
"King!? Are you awake!?"
"Yeah. I had a little dream."
A hazy sound.
But, that voice was very - very warm in "her" ears.
"Dream, huh?"
Like a questioning voice.
The king's consciousness is not yet complete. If I don't answer this question, I will fall into darkness again.
"Yeah. I haven't seen it before. It's a valuable experience."
"Is that so? Please rest carefully. I will bring the soldiers over in the meantime."
"—"
Took a breath.
There was something strange in the knight's words.
"King? Anything rude?"
"—No. I was just surprised by what you said. Dreams are something you can still see after waking up, right? It's not just different dreams, you can see the same thing as long as you close your eyes?"
This time it was the Knight who was surprised.
After tidying himself up, he replied.
"—Yes. If you have strong feelings for someone, you will see the same dream. I have had the same experience."
There is no such thing.
Dreams are something that only happen once.
Both the knight and "she" knew this, but the knight still lied.
This should be the first and last time that the knight apologizes to the king for his wrongdoings.
"Is that so? You are really knowledgeable, Bedivere."
Wang said with emotion.
He lowered his head and didn't look at the knight.
The king no longer knew what he was doing, breathing quietly,
"Bedivere. Take my sword."
Using the voice that was taken away, he gave one last command.
"Listen. Go through this forest and over that bloody hill. Beyond that is a deep lake. Throw my sword into it."
"!Wang, that!"
The Knights knew what that was.
Sword in the Lake.
Letting go of the sword that had protected the king until now, the king's sword of proof, would represent the end of the king he had served.
"—Go ahead. Come back here when you're done. I want to hear what you saw."
The king's words did not change.
The knight picked up the holy sword, unable to cut off the hesitation and crossed the hill—
Then.
Three times the knight hesitated to return the sword.
There is indeed a lake.
But there was no way to put the sword into it.
The King is immortal.
As long as the holy sword guides him, the king will not perish.
But if you throw the sword into the lake, the king is no longer a king.
The knight was unable to throw his sword in because of the king, so he returned to the king.
The king repeatedly ordered the knights.
To the knight who lied about throwing away his sword, he just had to obey orders.
Disobeying the king's orders is a great sin for a knight.
But he still risked his life a second time.
Whenever I stand in front of the lake, I think of the king's life.
But this will end.
The knight realized that the king's will would never change, and threw his sword into the lake for the third time.
The holy sword was returned to the lake.
A white wrist appeared on the water surface and took the sword. After turning three times in the air, the holy sword disappeared from the world.
"—"
Then, the Knight accepted.
The end of the king.
That responsibility that lasted too long ends here.
When we crossed the hill for the third time, the forest was shrouded in the morning sun.
There were no traces of the battlefield.
There was no sign of a bloodthirsty war in the clear mist.
"—throwing the sword into the lake. The hand of the lake spirit actually caught the sword."
The king opened his eyes at the knight's words.
"Is that so? Then lift up your chest. You, obey your king's command."
In the voice welcoming death, the knight nodded quietly—
It's all over.
Their country will continue to be in turmoil.
The war will not end, and the day of destruction will soon come.
But the King's war ended there.
He - no, she completed that task in the end.
The light gradually faded.
Because the deed was done, the last bit of strength protecting her disappeared.
"—Sorry, Bedivere.
This time the sleep will last longer—"
Like sleeping quietly.
Wang, close your eyes.
Only the morning sun sets.
Silence stands in the forest, accompanying the king's eternal sleep.
Seeing that face without a trace of regret, tears fell involuntarily.
At this moment, "she" could no longer tell whether it was a dream or an illusion.
"She" only knew that the profile was exactly what "she" expected.
Peaceful sleep.
Finally, my father could find peace.
The sky is vast, clear and blue.
The war is truly over here.
"—are you watching, King Arthur?"
The whispering voice rides on the wind.
The king falling into sleep seemed to be sinking into the endless blue.
"The continuation of the dream—"
Looking at the distant, distant dream.
...
...
...
The bird spread its wings and flew in the air, taking "her" to another place.
A scene I have dreamt of countless times.
"She" stood in front of a solid rock, and next to her stood a magician who was unknown whether young or old.
A sword was stuck in the rock, and the magician shouted to the knights of this country:
"Whoever pulls out this sword will be king."
Brave men, people who had absolute confidence in their own strength, and famous knights all came to challenge the sword-drawing, but they all gave up because they were completely unable to do so.
"These stupid guys." - she sneered to herself.
This sword is a weapon used to select a king, and only the chosen one who can save this country can pull it out. You actually want to pull it out with brute force alone, no matter how naive you are, there should be a limit.
So, when no one cared about the sword anymore, she stood in front of the sword.
The magician said in a calm tone:
"You'd better think carefully before you hold the sword."
She thought. She was always thinking.
The meaning of drawing this sword.
It means becoming a king who can stand on his own.
So she held out her hand—as if she felt there was no need to answer at all.
Then the magician sighed and waved his hand - the dream always ended here.
Even if he stretched out his hand towards the sword, he couldn't touch it. Although he had vowed to become a king who could stand on his own, Meng still declared to himself as always, "You don't have that authority."
She became impatient and indignant about this, and finally even pleaded.
"Let me draw the sword, let me be king, there is no way I cannot draw it."
"What vow, what will you pledge to this sword?"
She answered the question correctly like magic.
"I want to be a good king."
"Support this country with the right governance, the right strategy and the right strength. Absolute justice, absolute power, what's wrong with that?"
She clearly stretched out her hand, but her hand couldn't even touch the hilt of the sword.
It was just a little bit off. As long as I could hold the hilt, I would be able to pull the sword out.
Because I am Mordred, the legitimate son of King Arthur.
I will not lose to anyone and become a king who surpasses my father—
However, no matter how many times she repeated it, she could not touch the golden sword embedded in the stone.
Until this time, she stood in front of the rock but never reached out.
"Do you understand?" the magician asked.
"I see." She nodded.
He is lonely and aloof, just like the crescent moon that shines quietly in the cloudy sky.
He is always alone, sad and lonely.
Because everyone was looking up to him, he couldn't even cry or shout—
If someone becomes king, you won't have to do this.
You can relax and smile peacefully - that's what I wanted to tell him.
Of course, the king will never allow such an unnecessary element to exist. But even if he doesn't allow it, it doesn't matter. I just need to think so and then take action to become the king.
I threw away all my regrets and threw away this dream. In fact, I didn't need it from the beginning.
But I will not regret it. Although I have made one mistake after another, I now realize that in my life full of mistakes, there is still such a noble and human desire.
"What are you going to do?"
"It's very simple."
She grinned and held out her hands.
Instead of drawing the sword as he did before, he simply hugged the rock under the sword, lifted the rock and the sword in the stone high up, and threw them far away.
"Screw you, I don't need anything like that."
"Yes, that's right, that's more like you. Even though you're stupid, you're stupid in a cute way."
The magician laughed and lifted his hood, revealing a frivolous and handsome face.
When she saw this face, "she" instantly understood everything.
"It's you who's behind this, Merlin."
"Don't say that. I just want you to know your own heart."
"I've already figured it out. You don't need to do anything more."
"Is that so? Then go ahead and draw the sword that truly belongs to you."
The magician pointed his finger, and a rock appeared in front of the two men. On the rock was a sword more beautiful than any silver.
"I told you, no need."
"She" didn't even look at him and turned away. She hated this mysterious guy, always had.
The moment she turned around, the silver sword burst into dazzling light, broke away from the cornerstone and fell into Mordred's hands.
"you-"
Turning his head, he saw that the magician had disappeared and the surrounding scene became increasingly blurry.
Only the sword in his hand still shines.
PS: The editor has told Jian Shao that large paragraphs of original text will not be allowed in fan fiction in the future, otherwise the book may be banned. Jian Shao has checked, and there are currently two chapters with complete paragraphs of original text. These three chapters will be released for free, but these original texts are interspersed and mixed and adapted. Jian Shao has also spent a lot of thought on it, so there will be no additional compensation. That’s all.