American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 1039 Mordred: Great, Father, I have finally become king!

Artoria was a little confused.

She had just been seriously wounded by Mordred in the Battle of Camlann, and now Peter was telling her that he was also Mordred's father.

She naturally didn't believe such an absurd thing, thinking that Peter was making fun of her.

"Absurd...absurd!"

Artoria's body trembled violently with excitement as she stared intently at Peter, as if trying to see right through him.

"Mordred is me...my bloodline, how dare you..."

She was interrupted by a violent cough before she could finish speaking.

Blood gushed from the corner of her mouth, and her eyes burned with pain and rage.

Peter's words were undoubtedly the most vicious blasphemy against her and against the entire tragedy of Britain.

Peter did not avoid the other person's angry gaze.

He said he understood the anger.

After all, if someone were to say that one of the fathers on the farm was his son, Peter would probably react the same way Artoria did—slap them twice.

Peter glanced at Artoria and slowly raised his right hand, palm up.

His thoughts then sank into the depths of his soul, into the mark that shared the same origin as the Sword of Excalibur.

"Om..."

A soft yet incredibly pure azure light emanated from his palm.

The light flowed and quickly condensed and shaped in his hands.

A sword sheath appeared, floating above his palm.

The scabbard seemed to be woven from the purest lake water, its entire body shimmering with a warm, jade-like azure light.

At the end is inlaid a gem that seems to gather the brilliance of stars, and as the light flows, it seems as if a galaxy is slowly rotating inside.

The light emanating from the scabbard was strangely familiar to Artoria.

The aura of protection and life it exuded resonated strongly with Artoria's deep-seated connection to Avalon.

This was precisely the ideal paradise she had long lost, the one that ultimately led her to be unable to avoid fatal pain—a secluded haven from the world!
This scabbard is the true home and source of power for the sword of Excalibur.

The doubt and pain on Artoria's face froze completely in that instant.

Her eyes were fixed on the gleaming blue scabbard in Peter's hand.

“No… Impossible…!”

Artoria's voice was filled with confusion, "My scabbard has long been lost... in..."

She tried to recall the battle that led to the loss of the scabbard, but her memory was blurred and confused due to her near-death experience.

But in any case, the aura emanating from the scabbard before her, the protective power originating from Avalon and connected to her soul, was absolutely genuine.

"It did indeed belong to you."

Peter spoke in a deep voice, the scabbard in his hand continuing to emit a warm glow.

"But in my time and destiny, it also connected with me in another form."

He gently held the scabbard, letting its azure light illuminate Artoria's pale, blood-stained face.

"This is not an illusion, but something that really exists."

Artoria struggled to look away from the sword sheath and focused her gaze back on Peter's face.

The anger that had been in her eyes had vanished, replaced by deep confusion.

She initially thought Peter was talking nonsense, but the name Mordred, coupled with the Avalon sword sheath which could not possibly be faked, made her believe a little more of what this stranger who called himself "Peter Patrick" was saying.

"Mordred...you...you mean his father?"

Artoria coughed and asked in confusion, "Why...why do you say that?"

"In another tributary of fate."

Peter paused for a moment, considered his words carefully, and then met the other person's gaze with sincerity.

"Mordred is on another timeline. She did not become a Knight of the Round Table with you. After she was born, she was like a seed that crossed the sea of ​​stars and fell to my side."

Peter pictured Mo's stubborn and awkward demeanor in his mind.

“I adopted her, taught her, and witnessed her growth. She inherited the name ‘Mordred,’ as well as a part of the tragic destiny that belongs to this family, and…”

He raised the gleaming scabbard in his hand, “...the power associated with Excalibur, she is my daughter.”

"Another... tributary of fate?"

After listening to Peter finish speaking, Artoria murmured something under her breath.

Her green eyes gazed at the blood-stained sky, as if trying to pierce through the layers of dark clouds and see the infinite possibilities beyond the threads of fate.

Peter's explanation transcended ordinary understanding, yet it remarkably resonated with her current sense of being on the verge of reaching the other side.

Exhaustion surged in like a tidal wave, and the last of my strength was rapidly draining away.

Her arms, which were supporting her body, began to tremble violently, and her vision blurred again.

"That's wonderful. If... if she could leave this place, without hatred, without pain, then she wouldn't have met such a tragic end."

Artoria smiled slightly.

Even though she was killed by Mordred, she had no regrets knowing that in a distant time and space, there was a Mordred living a happy life.

She did not hate Mordred, who had ended her life.

Artoria now understands that the ending she and Mordred reached wasn't entirely Mordred's fault.

Morgan kept telling Mordred that "King Arthur did not know that Mordred was his child, and even if he did, he would not admit to having such a defiled child."

While Mordred was devastated, he was also overjoyed.

But in the end, he still clearly rejected Mordred.

Rejected, Mordred's hatred burned, and he seized control of Camelot while he was away on a campaign against Rome.

On the battlefield of Camran Hill, Mordred was ultimately killed by Artoria, who herself also suffered a fatal blow.

Thinking about her past neglect and rejection of Mordred, Artoria felt extremely complicated.

"So...you...are not of this world...If you return to your own world, please take good care of Mordred."

Her voice grew softer and softer, more and more ethereal, like the final flicker of a candle in the wind.

She looked at Peter, at this stranger who had suddenly appeared at the end of her life and claimed to be Mordred's father, and the light in her eyes gradually faded.

The cold winds of Kamran whipped up dust and blood, howling as they swept across the hillside.

Artoria's body finally gave way, and she slowly leaned forward.

Peter instinctively took a step forward and reached out his hand.

King Arthur did not fall into the cold mud; just before she lost consciousness, her body was gently supported by a soft golden light.

The light emanating from the scabbard carried a serene aura, gently enveloping her battered body.

Peter used the power of the sword sheath to protect Artoria.

Bathed in golden light, Artoria's pale, blood-stained face appeared exceptionally serene, as if she had finally shed all her burdens and pain.

However, thanks to the protection of the scabbard, she did not die completely, and the scabbard gradually healed her wounds.

The scabbard originally possessed powerful healing abilities.

In the original timeline, the Einzbern family unearthed the sword sheath and gave it to Kiritsugu.

After Kiritsugu used it to summon King Arthur and finish the Holy Grail War, the scabbard was buried inside Shirou Emiya's body.

When used as a conceptual weapon, the Avalon scabbard can only defend against one person, and its only function is to heal the wielder's injuries and stop their aging.

The reason why Shirou Emiya was able to recover so quickly from his injuries during the Holy Grail War was all thanks to Avalon's abilities.

Moreover, it is said that after the true name of the sword sheath, Avalon, is released, it can be disassembled and protect more people.

After unleashing its Noble Phantasm, Avalon's barrier can sever all conceptual interference, such as attacks, parallel worlds, or communications.

According to the setting, Avalon can reach the sixth dimension after it occupies space, which means that with all the means in the current Type-Moon world, there is no way to cause any damage to Avalon.

In a sense, the scabbard is the most powerful part of the holy sword, even surpassing the holy sword itself.

While using the scabbard to heal Artoria, Peter stood in the blood-red sunset.

The golden light reflected the complex and unfathomable thoughts in his eyes.

Little Mordred kept pestering me to tell her the story of King Arthur, and she greatly admired him.

If I were to bring King Arthur back to his homeland, I wonder what Mordred's expression would be upon seeing him in person.

Peter stroked his chin, suddenly having the idea of ​​bringing King Arthur back with him.

at the same time.

Deep beneath Gotham City, the former Wayne Enterprises secret research and development base has been completely transformed into a Gothic palace.

The vast space was carved into a dome, with scarlet velvet curtains hanging from the rough rock walls. In the center was a bottomless, enormous pool of blood, where thick, dark red blood slowly surged and churned, exuding a heavy, pungent stench.

Nightwing's uniform was already stained dark red, and his scarlet eyes swept across the crowd below.

The transformed Clark hung his head, the "S" emblem on his chest now appearing dull and lifeless.

Star-Lord and Mordred, along with several other transformed superhumans, stood below.

"Bruce...in the end, he still managed to escape."

Nightwing's voice broke the silence, "An injured rat, along with his wretched bat, was dragged into the sewer by another rat."

His bloodshot eyes swept over the crowd below. "Find them. Dig three feet into the ground and drag them out. I want to crush Batman's heart with my own hands."

After giving his instructions to everyone, Nightwing prepared to leave.

But just as he was about to leave, his gaze inadvertently swept down and he saw little Mordred, who hadn't said a word.

Xiao Mo was dressed in a set of light black armor, the style of which was simple yet full of a sharp and fierce aura.

The black helmet covered most of her face, revealing only her hard jawline and tightly pursed thin lips.

She rested her hands on the strangely shaped Rebellious Sword, its tip deeply embedded in the rocky ground.

Since her conversion, Mordred has remained taciturn, seemingly speaking far less than before her conversion.

Nightwing glanced at Mordred and prepared to leave.

"and many more!"

Xiao Mo called out to Nightwing, who was about to leave.

"I have something to tell you, Nightwing."

As Xiao Mo spoke, she walked over.

Nightwing had no suspicions and waited for Mo to come over.

But the moment Xiao Mo got close to him, the sword of rebellion in her hand moved without warning.

The jet-black sword, illuminated by the crimson glow of the blood pool, traced a path that defied the limits of visual perception.

"Pfft!!!"

A sickeningly loud sound rang out.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Nightwing's smile froze instantly.

He lowered his head incredulously and extremely slowly.

A jagged sword tip, dripping with a viscous, dark red color, emerged from the tear in his battle armor, carrying a scorching mist of blood.

Like a red-hot steel needle, the excruciating pain instantly pierces the soul.

Dark energy, brimming with destructive power, surged wildly into his body along the sword, relentlessly eroding and tearing apart his powerful essence as the vampire king.

"Uh...ah!!!"

Nightwing let out a painful howl, his body arching forward abruptly, his eyes instantly filled with extreme pain and incomprehensible horror.

He turned his head slowly and laboriously.

Mordred stood behind him, maintaining his thrusting stance.

Her helmet had slipped off at some point, revealing her indifferent little face.

"Why...why?!"

Nightwing's eyes were filled with pain and incredulous rage.

He could feel his powerful life force rapidly draining away with the blackish-red blood gushing from his chest, and the destructive power attached to the sword was frantically dismantling his regenerative abilities.

"I am... the King of the Vampires, your... Creator, your... Source of Power, and you... dare... betray me?!"

He never imagined that as the Vampire King, possessing the ability to command all vampires, he would be betrayed, and that a vampire would disobey his orders.

Inside the hall, all the transformed superpowered individuals froze.

Clark suddenly raised his head, a faint struggle seemingly flashing in his empty eyes.

Star-Lord's calm expression vanished completely, replaced by shock and a hint of instinctive fear.

The churning of the blood pool seemed to pause for a moment.

Mordred slowly and with tremendous force turned the hilt of the sword that was embedded in Nightwing's chest.

"Uhhhhhh-!!!"

Nightwing let out another painful scream, his body convulsing violently.

"The Creator? The Source of Power?"

Mordred Jr.'s voice rang out, looking at him with disdain, "How ridiculous."

She suddenly pulled the sword of rebellion outwards.

"Tsk-!"

Thick, dark red blood gushed out like a fountain from the piercing wound in Nightwing's chest, splattering the rocks beneath his feet.

Nightwing felt as if all his bones had been removed, and he crashed heavily onto the edge of the blood pool. His body convulsed violently from the excruciating pain and the rapid loss of his strength, and his incredulous eyes were fixed on little Mordred.

Mordred Jr. didn't even glance at the dying Nightwing.

She shook off the sticky black blood from the sword, and the Rebellious Sword pointed diagonally at the ground.

She then raised her eyes and slowly scanned all the stunned converts in the hall below.

Nightwing, panting, said to her unwillingly, "You cannot defy my will as long as you are a vampire."

Xiao Mo shook his head at Nightwing lying on the ground and said disdainfully:
"You're wrong. I, Mordred, have the blood of my father and King Arthur flowing through my veins. My will is strong enough to incinerate the stars. Even if you bite me, even if I become a vampire, I will never drink your filthy, foul blood..."

A cold smile appeared on her lips, as if mocking Nightwing's ignorance, "...I only drink the blood of rats and wild deer, I would never drink the blood of humans."

She took a step forward, her gaze fixed on each of the transformed individuals, before turning to Nightwing, who was struggling in agony.

As for obeying you?

Mordred's voice suddenly turned incredibly cold, "It was all just a pretense to wait for this moment. The only father I acknowledge is Peter Patrick. He gave me life, gave me strength, gave me meaning to my existence. My sword, my loyalty, my soul will forever be wielded only for him!"

"As for you..."

Her gaze swept over Clark, Star-Lord, and all the transformed superhumans. "Now, I have killed the Vampire King, I am the new Vampire King, and I demand that you all obey my orders."

As she spoke, an indescribable, terrifying pressure descended upon the souls of every person being transformed.

Mordred the Younger, who became the Vampire King, possessed absolute power over these vampires with their bloodlines.

Clark's body trembled violently, his muscles bulging and knotted, as if he were using all his strength to resist the oppressive force.

He growled in his throat, trying to resist Mordred's oppressive aura.

But in the end, the clear will was overwhelmed by the forced obedience derived from blood ties.

His body suddenly sank, and his head drooped low.

The entire hall was silent except for the sobbing of the blood pool and the faint groans of Nightwing.

All beings that have been transformed, no matter how powerful or arrogant they once were, have now chosen to submit under the new king's oppressive aura.

Mordred looked down expressionlessly at the kneeling "subjects".

At this moment, she is the Queen of Vampires.

In his crimson eyes burned an ambition more ruthless than Nightwing's.

"Father..."

She murmured softly, her voice audible only to herself, "The world you have longed for will be built by me. This vampire world will be a gift to you upon your return."

"Firestorm".

Mordred looked toward the firestorm.

Upon hearing the sound, Firestorm abruptly raised its head.

The flames on his body were no longer warm red and yellow, but had turned into a ghostly blue, like will-o'-the-wisps, exuding an ominous aura.

"I await your command, my king."

Firestorm lowered its head and stepped forward.

Mordred the Younger commanded the firestorm, “I want you to burn down all the forests on earth, let ashes and smoke blot out the sky and the sun, let eternal darkness envelop the earth, so that vampires will no longer fear the sunlight.”

He unleashed firestorms to burn the earth's forests, so that the sky would be covered in thick smoke, preventing sunlight from reaching the vampires.

"As you command, my king!"

Firestorm nodded to indicate that he accepted the order.

The terrifying heat distorted the air, causing the temperature in the entire underground hall to soar dramatically. Then, the firestorm transformed into a fiery meteor and flew outwards.

(End of this chapter)