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

Chapter 1058 The Gluttonous Ahoge, Mordred Awakens

Upon seeing her familiar companion, the Golden Retriever Murphy, who was always full of energy on the farm and whom she had rubbed on the head countless times while complaining that he was a "stupid dog," Mordred exclaimed in surprise.

"Woof!"

Upon seeing Mordred awaken, Murphy's tail instantly wagged like a propeller, his entire body writhed with excitement, and he let out a whimper filled with obvious joy.

And Murphy's wet nose kept nuzzling against her chin and neck, as if to confirm that she was really awake.

"It really is you! That's wonderful!"

Mordred happily patted Murphy's head.

The realistic touch on Murphy's body gradually brought her confused consciousness back to normal.

She turned her stiff neck and looked around.

The surrounding area was a familiar farm, and everything had returned to normal.

It was as if the bloody disaster that swept through the farm and the duel between Camlan and his father were just a bizarre nightmare.

Although she suspected that everything was a dream, the waves of fatigue and weakness emanating from deep within her body, along with the incredibly clear fragments of memory in her mind, all told her that it was definitely not a dream.

Mordred sat up abruptly.

Because the movement was too fast, her vision went black for a moment, and she couldn't help but groan.

"Woo?"

Murphy immediately stopped licking, tilted his head to look at her, and made a questioning whimper in his throat.

Mordred ignored Murphy and looked down at herself.

The hideous armor he was wearing had disappeared.

Instead, she wore her favorite white T-shirt with a cartoon print.

Apart from a few scabbed scratches, there were no other injuries on his arms and cheeks.

Even the bone-chilling coldness and bloodlust he felt when he was corrupted by the evil god's power had vanished without a trace.

She raised her hand and tried to clench her fist.

The power she inherited from the vampire queen seems to have been eliminated.

Has I returned to normal?
Mordred thought uneasily, his expression gradually changing.

She suddenly clutched her head, her fingers digging deep into her disheveled red hair.

"I think I did something really bad?"

Countless fragments of memory surged into her consciousness like a flood bursting its banks.

She has remembered everything.

She remembered how she was seduced by that damned dark power and how she turned herself into an ugly vampire.

How did they transform their father's beloved farm into a disgusting vampire lair?

She still remembered how she had arrogantly hovered on the throne, mocking Raven.

Of course, this also includes how she launched a frenzied and hysterical attack on her father, and how she seemed to say many rebellious things.

Most importantly, she remembered the bet she had made with her father.

If he loses to his father, he will be confined to his quarters for six months.

The thought of spending six months in jail made Mordred's face instantly turn sour.

"It's all over, it ......!"

Mordred buried her face in her knees, clutching her head.

Overwhelmed by shame and lingering fear, she felt an urge to dig a hole and bury her head in it.

"Woo..."

Murphy seemed to sense her little master's intense emotional fluctuations. She stopped wagging her tail and instead gently nudged her arm with her wet nose, letting out a low whimper.

Mordred didn't look up, but curled her body up even tighter, like a frightened hedgehog trying to hide itself.

I wonder what my father will think of her, and whether he will forgive her.

Will I really be completely disappointed in her?
Will they never want me again?

Was the hand her father reached out to her in her dream a genuine act of forgiveness, or merely a figment of her imagination?

Countless terrifying thoughts clashed wildly in her little head.

“Murphy…”

She looked up dejectedly and touched Murphy's head. "I...I think I've messed everything up. What should I do?"

Just as Mordred was feeling uneasy, she heard footsteps outside the door.

As she sensed the familiar presence approaching, Xiao Mo's body stiffened abruptly.

Murphy stopped licking, looked up in confusion towards the door, wagged its tail instinctively, and made a cheerful "purring" sound.

The steady footsteps tumbled softly on the wooden floor of the farmhouse's front porch.

Every step felt like stepping on Mordred's taut nerves.

With a creak, the door was finally pushed open, and Peter appeared in the doorway.

"Father, King...!"

Mordred immediately cowered when he saw Peter.

"Looks like you're sleeping soundly?"

Peter's eyebrows twitched, and he walked over to her and asked.

"Um... I don't know how long I slept."

Mordred said somewhat embarrassedly, glancing furtively at Peter, and whispered an apology: "I'm sorry, Father."

Peter didn't blame her; instead, he reached out and touched her disheveled red hair.

"There's no need to blame yourself too much, Morty, that's not the real you."

Peter stroked Mo's red hair. "That's a shadow corrupted by darkness and twisted by evil thoughts. That's not what it really is. The real you."

Mordred's eyes lit up instantly when she heard Peter's words of comfort.

Overwhelmed with emotion, she hugged Peter tightly.

"Waaah... Father, I thought you never wanted me again."

Peter didn't push her away; he just let her hug him and gently patted her back.

Murphy also came over, nuzzling Mordred's calf with his warm head and making comforting purring sounds.

Holding Peter, Mordred's unease was temporarily soothed, but a great deal of doubt began to surface in her mind.

She cautiously raised her head and asked Peter in confusion, "Father, how...how did I...turn back?"

The last thing she remembered seeing was the sun-like light emanating from the Holy Lance in Peter's hand.

Could it be that her father's power purified her?
Peter looked down at her and said, "You've been unconscious for three days."

"Three days?"

Mordred was shocked to hear Peter say that he had been unconscious for three days.

She thought she had just taken a nap.

Peter nodded, his gaze drifting to the World Tree outside the window, and continued explaining to Mordred:
"After you completely lost your mind and launched your final attack, I temporarily suppressed the evil god's whispers and chaotic power within you. But what truly eradicated the vampire virus from your body was the antidote Horus brought back. Horus returned from Gotham with the vampire antidote that Bruce had discovered."

"Horus?"

Mordred never expected that Horus would be the one to save her in the end.

She felt a little embarrassed, because she used to often mock Horus as a "silent fellow" and even thought about using the power of vampires to make him submit.

She decided that she would no longer call Horus "the sullen pot".

“It’s not just you,” Peter’s voice pulled her back to reality. “Azu, Clark, Raven, Star-Lord, and even Loki, whom you imprisoned, have all returned to normal.”

Peter's gaze swept across the farm. "The antidote sample Horus brought back was analyzed and copied by Cyborg. It was then distributed to all the front lines still resisting through the Watchtower's global delivery system. Black Adam, Green Arrow... most of the transformed superheroes have already returned to normal."

Mordred's eyes widened in astonishment when she heard Peter say that all the vampire superheroes had turned back.

As Peter spoke, he reached out his hand to her, "Get up, I'll take you outside to see the world."

Somewhat stunned, Mordred instinctively took Peter's hand and followed her outside.

Standing in the living room, Mordred looked outside and noticed the unusual liveliness on the farm.

In the courtyard outside the farm, Jane Foster was talking in hushed tones with Persephone, the Queen of the Underworld.

But at the dining table, it was a completely different scene.

Avengers including Azur, Raven, Clark and Star-Lord, Tom, and Ceresia sat around the table.

The faces of the group still showed some paleness and fatigue from recovering from a serious illness, but their spirits were clearly much better.

In front of each person was a large bowl of steaming, fragrant vegetable and meat stew, along with slices of golden-brown, crispy baguette.

“Seriously,” Star-Lord said, stirring the soup in his bowl with a spoon, sounding a little annoyed, “I get a bit of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) just from the smell of ketchup now.” Raven rolled her eyes. “Stop being dramatic. At least you can taste it now, instead of seeing everything as a ‘walking blood bank’ like before.”

Clark nodded, wanting to say something, but sensing the somewhat awkward atmosphere at the table, he changed the subject, saying, "Aunt Persephone's stew is quite good."

He was referring to the signature stew made by Hades on the dinner table.

Azu seemed somewhat distracted, poking at a slice of bread with his fork and glancing at Peter every now and then.

However, the absolute focus at the dinner table now is neither the "Father of Sorrows" who has just shed his vampire identity, nor the tempting stew.

Instead, it was Artoria who sat at the head of the long table.

She was eating intently at that moment.

And it's done in a way that's enough to make any chef question their existence and leave any gourmet speechless, a way that's full of absolute power and efficiency.

Artoria sat upright, her long golden hair neatly tied back, a few stray strands falling across her cheeks without her noticing.

That stunningly beautiful face, usually so cold and aloof on the battlefield, was now slightly puffed out with its mouth full of food, revealing a childlike focus and contentment.

Artoria held a large white porcelain soup bowl steadily in her left hand.

The bowl was piled high with stewed potatoes, carrots, beef chunks, and rich broth.

Her right hand held a large metal ladle, and she was scooping food from the bowl into her mouth at a dazzling speed.

"Snoring—slurping—"

With each scoop she made, the height of the food in the bowl dropped slightly at a visible rate.

She didn't even need to look down at the bowl; her gaze was straight ahead, as if she were performing a solemn ritual, except that the core of this ritual was to eliminate all the food in front of her.

Azu's eyes twitched as he watched, and he couldn't help but whisper to Clark beside him, "Has she not eaten for months?"

Clark shook his head, looking bewildered.

Baku and Vi, standing to the side, were also stunned by Artoria's lightning-fast speed.

Ceresia asked worriedly, "Your Majesty Arthur, are you alright?"

Artoria's movements paused only slightly.

She raised her emerald green eyes and glanced at Ceresa. "I'm fine."

She did not stop eating, and instead chewed and swallowed even more rapidly.

It's as if silently declaring that any behavior that interferes with the sacred mealtime is disrespectful to the food itself.

After finishing her meal and ignoring the strange looks coming from those around her, Artoria cleared her throat and said to Persephone:

"Lord Persephone, please serve the next dish as soon as possible."

She said in a serious tone, "The battle with the vampires before was extremely taxing, and I urgently need to replenish my magic power."

Persephone asked Artoria in a low voice, "Was my cooking delicious?"

"Yes, Lord Persephone's cooking is delicious. I have never eaten such good food in Britain."

Peter: "."

Is this how you replenish mana?

He recalled information about Artoria from his previous life.

This petite King Arthur, who stopped growing after pulling the sword from the stone in his teens, foreshadowed his gluttonous nature early on.

Since they're not growing anymore, if I'm a foodie, why don't I eat to my heart's content?

Artoria has a very strong appetite. It seems she was never fortunate enough to enjoy delicious food in her previous life. She is obsessed with eating under the guise of replenishing her magic power and has a great interest in collecting recipes.

This "big eater" enjoys all kinds of dishes, but he dislikes octopus.

Furthermore, "Ahoge" has a harsh evaluation of Shirou Emiya's cooking skills, dislikes rough food, and if his cooking reaches a high level, even a slight drop in quality will attract disapproving stares and may even trigger a crisis.

Having a physique that allows you to overeat without gaining weight is something to be envied by everyone, isn't it?
If Raven and Zatanna knew that Artoria possessed such attributes, they would probably be green with envy.

Seeing Artoria eating heartily, so different from the others, Mordred paused for a second, then asked Peter with mixed feelings, "Father, is she really King Arthur?"

Peter looked down at her, remained silent for a moment, and then nodded and said, "Yes."

"She is Artoria Pendragon, the Eternal Queen of Britain."

He paused, coughed, and said, "In some distant time and space, in some long-forgotten story, she was your father."

"She is not my father."

“I have only one father, and that is Peter Patrick.”

Mordred said with a serious expression.

Although Peter felt a little pleased to hear his daughter say that, he quickly composed himself.

He patted Mordred on the shoulder. "Go pick up the tools scattered over there and go clean the cattle pen."

"Huh? Cleaning the cattle pen?"

Upon hearing Peter's words, Mordred's face instantly fell, and her eyes, which had just lit up, were clouded over again.

That was one of the jobs she hated most on the farm; it was dirty and smelly.

"Father, I have just woken up. I am still a patient."

She tried to act spoiled, clinging to Peter's arm and swaying it.

"Just woke up? You seem quite energetic, even able to talk back."

Peter remained unmoved, withdrew his arm, and gestured with his chin toward the tools.

"Go quickly, the six-month house arrest sentence hasn't been carried out yet, don't give me any reason to extend the sentence."

The words "confined to the house for six months" struck her like a bolt from the blue.

Mordred immediately deflated. She glared at Peter resentfully, and finally resignedly, reluctantly, walked toward the scattered tools, glancing back every few steps.

Seeing Mordred walking towards the cattle pen, Peter's smile vanished, and his expression turned serious.

Although the humans who were turned into vampires have gradually returned to normal, the matter is far from over.

He slowly raised his head, his deep gaze passing over the scene of life returning to the courtyard and landing on the distant, almost blindingly blue sky.

The sun is shining and the breeze is gentle.

But beneath this calm surface, a deeper, thicker darkness, like lingering smoke from battle, stubbornly lurks.

He could feel that the land beneath his feet, this planet, was still groaning in pain.

The vampire virus has been eradicated, the infected have regained their sanity, and social order is being painstakingly rebuilt.

But the scars left by darkness extend far beyond the human heart.

In order to thoroughly purify the Earth's ecosystem, which had been altered by vampires—forests that had been forcibly burned to create dense smoke that blocked out the sun, water sources and soil polluted by dark energy, and the remaining filth that was still slowly eroding the vitality of all living things.

He needs the power of the green of all things, and he needs to rely on that walking green consciousness incarnate—the swamp monster.

night.

Peter enlisted the help of Zatana and Artoria to search for the swamp monster.

Zatanna knows a lot about the magical world, which can help her find the swamp monster faster.

Zatanna said to Peter, "The swamp monster is most likely to be found in the Louisiana wetlands."

"Then let's go to the Louisiana wetlands."

Using the magic gate constructed by Zatanna, Peter and his companions were teleported to an unfamiliar place.

The air was damp, carrying the heavy, fishy smell of decaying plants and mud.

What lay before me was no longer a sunny farmyard, but a dimly lit, oppressive wetland swamp.

"Sizzle—! Sizzle—!"

Just as Peter was surveying his surroundings, a sharp, teeth-grinding noise suddenly erupted from all directions without warning.

In the woods, countless pairs of dark red eyes suddenly lit up.

Immediately afterwards, as if the mechanical valves of hell had been opened, a tidal wave of figures surged out from every corner and every shadow.

They have a roughly humanoid outline, but their bodies are made of dark metal skeletons, and they have vampire-like wings and fangs.

"vampire?!"

Zatanna gasped in shock.

"Too many!"

Artoria's voice also carried a hint of solemnity.

She stepped forward, shielding Zatanna behind her, her eyes fixed on the few monsters that had pounced at her. Her right hand was clenched, and the faint hum of Excalibur's sword about to be drawn could be heard in the air.

The sheer number of these monsters was overwhelming, like a tide of metal, instantly filling the forest.

"No, this is not a vampire."

Peter shook his head and said.

(End of this chapter)