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

Chapter 1044 Mordred VS Azu, Father's Proudest Knight

Azu's heat gaze swept across the area like the scythe of death, slicing all the vampires that tried to surround him within the fan-shaped area in half.

Severed limbs and internal organs instantly burn and carbonize under the impact of heat vision.

With each sweep of heat beams, hordes of vampires were utterly annihilated.

The entire Patrick Farm was turned into a bloody slaughterhouse.

The scorched earth was covered with thick black blood and bits of flesh, and the air was filled with an intense, nauseating stench of blood. The number of vampires was dwindling at a visible rate.

However, just as Ah Zu was getting into the swing of things and was about to completely wipe out the enemy, a powerful aura appeared behind him.

"Rebel against my magnificent father!!!"

A voice, carrying an undeniable authority, boomed out from the sky behind Azu like a thunderclap tearing through the darkness.

The next second, Azu's heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible giant hand.

A deadly warning sign appeared, and Ah Zu suddenly turned his head to the side.

A spiraling torrent of crimson gold, condensed to its extreme and seemingly compressing the galaxy into the sword's blade, tore through the billowing smoke of the sky, ignoring the distance in space, and instantly attacked Azu.

The energy burst was faster than Azu had anticipated, even faster than his thermal vision.

Ah Zu only had time to raise his arm to shield his chest.

"boom!"

The crimson-gold light slammed into Azu's arms.

"Uhhh-!!!"

Azu let out a cry of pain as his defenses, strong enough to withstand a nuclear explosion, were instantly breached.

The specially made battle suit on Azu's arms instantly vaporized, and the powerful kinetic energy carried Azu's body backward like a broken sack, crashing heavily into the ground behind him.

With a deafening roar, the hard ground was smashed open, leaving spiderweb-like cracks.

Ah Zu collapsed in the ruins, his body convulsing violently from the excruciating pain, each convulsion bringing out more blood.

He struggled to lift his head, his eyes bloodshot with pain and disbelief, staring intently in the direction from which the attack had come.

The thick smoke seemed to be parted by an invisible hand, and a figure slowly descended.

Mordred appeared in Azu's sight, wearing a menacing suit of armor interwoven with jet black and crimson.

The scarlet lining outlines the vigorous and powerful figure of a young girl just coming of age.

The iconic helmet was not closed; the visor was flipped up and fixed to both sides of her short hair, revealing an unfamiliar, indifferent face.

Mordred's eyes seemed to burn with dark red flames, leaving Azu speechless.

Mordred!

He never expected that Mordred would be the one to attack him.

"Mordred, how could it be you?"

Azu thought Mordred was traveling with Star-Lord and Hal, but he didn't expect her to be alone on the farm.

Moreover, Mordred before him seemed to possess an even stronger aura than before.

Mordred landed steadily on the scorched earth, no more than ten meters away from the seriously injured Azu.

She didn't even glance at the vampire beside her, who stood there with awe and submission.

All her attention was focused on Azu, who was in a sorry state amidst the ruins.

A slight smile, brimming with the smugness of a victor, slowly curved onto Mordred's lips.

"Azu."

Mordred's voice, though not loud, echoed clearly over the farm, "My...brother."

Although she addressed him as "brother," her voice carried undisguised sarcasm and contempt.

"Look at what you look like now."

She tilted her head slightly, as if admiring a failed work of art, "like a stray dog ​​that has had its teeth pulled, its spine broken, and can only lie in the mud howling."

Her gaze then swept over the farm that had been completely reduced to scorched earth, and a subtle, indescribable emotion flickered deep in her eyes.

Ignoring Mordred's taunts, Azu gritted his teeth and said to her, "This is my farm. Who gave you permission to be here? You rebellious, damned little vampire!"

"You...?"

Upon hearing Azu's words, Mordred's voice suddenly rose, filled with an offended anger.

"You dare stand here? You dare call this your farm? You dare try to lay a finger on your father's farm?!"

She took a sudden step forward, the tip of her longsword pointing at Azu's throat.

"I am the child my father is most proud of!"

Mordred's crimson eyes were fixed on Azu, as if she wanted to crush even the last trace of resentment in his eyes. "It was I who inherited the power of my father's Noble Phantasm, it was I who controlled the power of the Noble Phantasm, it was I... who conquered this dark world for my father in my own way, and made it the most perfect gift to him!"

Her voice carried an almost obsessive fervor.

"And you, John Patrick, what have you done? You only know how to use your laughable brute strength to run around like a brainless beast, only causing trouble for Father! Only disappointing him!"

Mordred's words made Azu clench his teeth even tighter.

If he hadn't been ambushed by this little vampire, he would have stood up and shown him what a terrifying Homelander was.

"The farm... is the king's life's work, our shared home."

Mordred's tone suddenly turned extremely dangerous, and the tip of her sword moved even closer, almost piercing Azu's skin. "Its inheritance, its future... only I, Mordred Padrick, the Vampire Queen, have the right to decide, the right to personally present it to Father when he returns."

Azu was stunned when he heard Mordred say that she was the vampire queen.

Isn't Nightwing the King of Vampires?

When did Mordred become the vampire queen?
A sudden sense of foreboding rose in his heart.

If that's the case, then Bruce and the survivors in Kandor are in serious trouble.

He knew that the wild child his father had picked up from outside who became the vampire king was far more dangerous than Nightwing.

Unaware of Azu's inner thoughts, Mordred leaned forward slightly, his dark red eyes staring directly at Azu's angry face, and said, word by word, "As for you, you are a failure who only knows how to destroy and bring shame to your father."

You don't deserve anything!

The moment he finished speaking, Mordred abruptly raised his empty left hand.

She spread her five fingers, and in her palm, a miniature magic circle made of dark red magic instantly formed.

At the center of the magic circle, runes that appeared to be woven from thorns shone with a blinding light.

"Binding chains—the shackles of the rebels!"

After becoming the vampire queen, Mordred also mastered the magic of the ancient times, the era of King Arthur, which was buried deep in her memories.

The magic she is using now is from the time of King Arthur.

"Om-!"

Several chains of pure dark red energy, like living venomous snakes, shot out from the magic circle in an instant.

To Azu's astonishment, energy shackles wrapped around his neck, arms, waist, and legs.

The thorns on the chains dug deep into his flesh, frantically draining the remaining energy within him while releasing powerful paralyzing and binding magic.

"Uh... ah!"

Azu let out a painful groan, his body instantly stiffening.

Blood seeped from where the chains were embedded, and was greedily absorbed by the dark red energy.

Azu tried to struggle, but the chains contained a kind of rule power originating from the Noble Phantasm system, like a leech, locking away his last bit of power.

Azu's bloodshot eyes stared intently at Mordred, filled with boundless rage and humiliation.

How could I have been defeated by my father's youngest child?

This is absolutely unforgivable!
"Uh... cough!"

Ah Zu coughed up a mouthful of blood, the thick liquid dripping down his chin.

He struggled to lift his head and stared intently at Mordred's face.

“Mo...d...re...d…”

Azu's voice was filled with boundless rage, "You... traitor, madman, patricide bastard!"

He used all his strength to try to activate the bio-force field that was tightly bound by chains, even if it was just to move his fingertips.

However, the only response he received was the excruciating pain of the thorns on the chains piercing deeper into his marrow.

"Patricide?"

Mordred turned his head slightly, looking down at Azu.

"I am not the Mordred who murdered his father in history. I am not King Arthur's son; I am my father's son!" Mordred declared confidently. "My power comes from the Noble Phantasm bestowed upon me by my father. My throne is a sacrifice prepared for my father's return. Everything I have done..."

Her gaze swept across the farm, “...all to protect Father’s legacy, to clean up the garbage that only tarnishes his glory!”

"Rubbish?!"

Ah Zu was like a powder keg that had been lit; despite being physically restrained, his rage was about to break free of the chains that bound him.

“You’re the biggest piece of trash, Mordred! Look what you’ve done! What a mess you’ve made of Father’s beloved farm, you little bitch!”

"Say whatever you want, you pathetic little dwarf, I don't care about the opinions of losers."

When called a "little bitch," Mordred didn't tolerate it and directly mocked Azu's height.

Upon hearing the other person call him a "shorty," Azu's face instantly turned red.

"Take him away."

Mordred shook his head, no longer looking at Azu, who was bound by chains.

She turned around and looked toward Gotham in the distance.

“Lock him in the ‘Silent Chamber’ in the deepest part of the Blood Pool Dungeon.”

She ordered the super-powered vampire beside her, "Lock it up with that alloy that Father took from the Unjust World, which can isolate all energy and vibration. No one is allowed to approach without my order."

"Yes, my king."

The vampires bowed and accepted the order, their voices filled with absolute obedience.

After the angry and resentful Azu was taken away, Mordred took off his helmet.

"Father..."

She murmured almost inaudibly, "Do you see? I've cleaned the house for you and protected our home..."

After absorbing the power of Nightwing, the vampire king, and awakening the power of her bloodline, Mordred not only became more powerful, approaching the power of a Servant in the Holy Grail War, but also gained a deeper understanding of her own body.

She understood that she was not an innocent human being.

To be precise, she should be considered a type of android.

A vague memory buried deep within her mind told her that she was created by a woman and sent to her father's side.

Because she is a clone, her growth rate far exceeds that of a natural human, and her lifespan is correspondingly shorter.

"Compared to Ceresa and the others, who are my age and playing while I am wielding a sword, I may be old and dead by the time they grow up."

Mordred murmured softly.

Knowing that her life was short and she would not be able to see her father again after she grew up, she felt she had to do something for him.

“Father, I will prove to you that I will be your proud knight.”

at the same time.

The final battle, the battlefield of Kamran.

"Do you see, King Arthur? Your kingdom is finished! Regardless of who wins between us—as you can see, it has been completely destroyed! Shouldn't you have realized this long ago? Passing the throne to me would have prevented this from happening. So, am I... as Morgan's alter ego, to be hated by you like this?"

Faced with Mordred's roar, King Arthur simply said expressionlessly, "No, you are wrong. I have never hated you. There is only one reason not to pass the throne to you—you do not have the capacity to be king."

Upon hearing King Arthur's words, Mordred angrily charged at him.

In the final battle between the two, Mordred, pierced by King Arthur's holy spear Rungomminiad, is about to fall.

Before falling, Mordred freed herself from the mask her mother had given her, removed her helmet, and faced Artoria directly for the first time.

"--Father……"

She wanted to receive her father's hug at least once, with her true self.

But before his blood-stained hand could even touch King Arthur, it collapsed helplessly.

"Well!"

The next second, Artoria Pendragon's consciousness was abruptly pulled back to reality from her dream.

Her breathing was accompanied by a tearing pain in her chest and abdomen, as if Mordred's sword on the battlefield of Camran was still deeply embedded in her internal organs, stirring them up.

Her vision was first blurred, and then forcibly invaded by the leaping orange-red flames.

fire? !

"Are you awake?"

A calm voice came from behind.

Artoria paused for a moment before realizing that the flames in front of her were a campfire, not the raging fires of a battlefield that had consumed everything.

The campfire burned peacefully in the night breeze, and across from it sat a mysterious man who was said to come from another time and space.

Peter was carefully poking at the burning firewood with a twig, letting sparks rise briefly like fireflies.

This is neither the scorched battlefield of Kamran nor the cold riverbanks of the underworld.

"Could it be that I..."

Artoria asked Peter in a dry voice, "Am I dead?"

“No,” Peter threw the branch in his hand into the fire, “this is not the underworld. Your injuries are too severe. I could not find a better way, so I put the scabbard Avalon back into your body. It is it that is working and healing you.”

Sword sheath... Avalon!

A distant, almost forgotten name of blessing stirred a ripple in her heart.

Artoria instinctively touched her chest, and through her skin, she could feel a faint but continuous warmth.

She is still alive.

But this realization did not bring much joy; instead, a heavy sense of emptiness, like surviving a catastrophe, weighed on my heart.

"You were dreaming, weren't you?"

Peter's voice broke the silence once more.

Artoria did not answer immediately; her gaze passed over the flames and landed on the deep night behind Peter.

"……Yes."

Artoria finally spoke, her voice so low it was almost drowned out by the crackling of the campfire, tinged with a dazed look, "I had a... very long dream."

"I also had a dream."

Peter coughed and said to her, “I dreamt of my daughter Mordred.”

Upon hearing Mordred's name, Artoria's breath caught in her throat for a moment.

Peter, seemingly oblivious to her momentary stiffness, continued, "In the dream, she said she would build a kingdom for me and put me in the highest position. That child... had such grand and reckless ideas, she didn't care about anything once she got into it."

"Although she is young, she is very stubborn. Once she has made up her mind, nothing can change it."

Both of them are Mordred's parents, and Peter decided to talk about their daughter together.

Altria remained silent.

The firelight danced across her pale face, outlining the taut lines of her jaw.

Peter paused for a moment, as if waiting for her response.

A night breeze rustled through the distant woods, and a few sparks broke free from the flames, drifting upwards and briefly illuminating Peter's serene profile before vanishing into the darkness.

"She would always pester me, asking me about the story of King Arthur over and over again. Her little head was filled with questions and longing for that legendary king."

A farm? Little Mo?
A pebble was thrown into Artoria's heart lake, and ripples spread silently.

She remained silent, but leaned forward slightly, moving closer to Peter.

"Once, she asked me, 'What exactly is a king?'"

Peter's voice flowed through the night sky, carrying a strange power that forcibly dragged Artoria away from the blood and fire of Camran and pulled her into a completely different time and space.

“I told him that the king is clearly not someone who is hateful, but he often bears the deepest hatred. Just because the king sits in that position, everyone—those who know him and those who don’t—naturally puts all their dreams, hopes, and those heavy, even unattainable, wishes on his shoulders. No one asks him if he is willing or if he can bear it.”

"So Xiao Mo asked me, 'Then... was King Arthur like that too? Was he also... hated by many people?'"

“I told her that yes, she was misunderstood by many people and suffered a lot of hatred that she shouldn’t have to bear.”

Peter continued his narration, but his calm tone sounded extremely shocking to Artoria.

Later, Mordred told me, "Father, every time I close my eyes, I dream, and I always dream about wanting to challenge the chosen sword but being unable to. So, I thought, something must be missing... something necessary to become king. Father, what am I missing to become king?"

The dream of challenging the chosen sword... Artoria's breath caught in her throat.

That was the most secret mark deep within her bloodline, the starting point of her becoming the "chosen king".

Peter's voice remained steady: "I told her that's not actually the case, not at all. It's not that there's anything lacking, but rather that your starting point is completely different from King Arthur's."

He paused, then continued, “'Making a smile on the face of a complete stranger—that’s the very purpose for which King Arthur aspired to become king, Mordred. That’s what makes you different from her.'”

(End of this chapter)