Anime: Blue-Eyes Baby Dragon, picked up by the Knight King

He only looks at results.

"I agree."

Gahoris - the melancholy prince looked at the black dragon in the sky, a trace of imperceptible sadness flashed in his eyes.

In a sense, he is the child who is most like Morgan.

He inherited Morgan's nobility, but also his melancholy.

But precisely because of the similarity, he can know more clearly what his mother is thinking.

"Want to say goodbye to us this way?"

"Mother?".

Chapter 287 A Mother’s Ambition is Her Children

Gaheris's voice was so soft that it was almost swallowed by the wind on the battlefield, but his words were remarkably clear, like a sharp sword piercing some invisible barrier.

Gawain took a deep breath, the flames on his holy sword fluctuating violently. As a Knight of the Sun, he should have been the most abiding by the code of chivalry—but at this moment, his gaze passed past Mordred, fixed on the black shadow swirling in the sky. In the hurricane whipped up by the dragon's wings, he could almost see the walls of Camelot crumbling under Morgan's curse.

“…Second.”

As these three words uttered between his teeth, Mordred whistled loudly. A sudden surge of crimson lightning shone, illuminating the entire round table like a pool of blood. The Daoist text within the twelve inscribed lines shone with a piercing light—more than halfway.

So the resolution was passed.

The moment the resolution was passed, the twelve incisions on the round table suddenly erupted with blinding red light, and scarlet lightning wrapped around each knight's weapon like a chain. Mordred stood at the center of the round table, the Radiant King Sword held high, and he greeted the surging power with a wild laugh.

"Hahahahahaha—that's more like it!"

Her armor was stained with a crimson glow, like the burning flames of rebellion. Gawain's Sun Sword, Gareth's Flame Lance, Aggiven's Chain Lance, Gaheris's Clear Light Sword—the power of all the knights transformed into streams of light, converging on her blade.

"I accept the power of all the nobles!"

Her cries of triumph made the knights want to point their weapons directly at the back of her head.

But at the same time, one thing had to be admitted: at this moment, when the power of the knights passed through the round table and gathered on Mordred at the same time - this rebellious knight actually erupted from his body with a power that was comparable to the black king in the sky and was enough to destroy everything.

"Real name liberation."

"My name is—Mordred Pendragon!"

There are no extra words, and no need for the so-called [Noble Phantasm Release Words].

Just calling out your own name is enough.

Just call out this name and the whole world will know what is going to happen.

——Because this name is the proof of that [rebellion].

"Watch out, mother. You taught me this!"

Mordred's voice exploded across the battlefield. The moment her true name was released, crimson lightning swept across the heavens and earth like a raging tide. Her figure swelled in the light, her armor and royal sword fused into one, transforming into a massive crimson blade that pierced heaven and earth—that was the true form of the [Glorious Royal Sword], the embodiment of rebellion.

Regicide, matricide.

This absolute [rebellion] brought Mordred's power to a new level - at this moment, Mordred felt that he could even fight Altria, who was holding the Holy Spear, alone.

Pandora's Box.

"A gorgeous rebellion against Queen Mother Duan Li!!!"

A massive crimson blade extended from Mordred's hand, colliding with the king in the sky. Space began to warp and shatter in its path. The Black King roared, his dragon wings unleashing a devastating storm of magical energy in an attempt to resist. But the instant the lightning struck, the power capable of destroying a city was torn apart like thin paper.

Gawain instinctively raised his hand to block the blinding light. The sight he saw through his fingers made his pupils shrink. Mordred's slash wasn't simply physical destruction; it struck directly at Morgan's very concept of kingship. The emblem of the Round Table materialized on the blade's edge, its twelve incisions now stained scarlet.

That is the power of "human nature".

Furthermore, it is the power of "human nature" in this world.

It was a very ironic thing that the power of human reason appeared in a rebellious son who was not even considered a "guardian"... Mordred himself was a little surprised when he talked about this.

But it is undeniable that no matter what her selfish motives are, at least at this moment, she is indeed fighting for this world.

Human nature recognized her.

Although it was only for a brief moment.

But in this brief moment, the Black Emperor Nighoed, the supreme ruler who had dominated this planet for tens of millions of years, was attacked even more seriously than the assassination of the four kings.

——The Emperor was denied.

Or perhaps He had already been disowned long ago, and even the He who appeared here couldn't be called the true emperor at all. The true emperor was someone else, and He was now just a shell carrying the emperor's wrath.

But even so, no one had ever truly denied Him before—including the world.

——Until today.

Scarlet sword marks etched themselves on Nighold's chest, and his jet-black scales peeled away like fragile pottery. His roar was no longer the majestic roar of a dragon, but rather the howl of a beast—the mournful cry of a denied existence.

Ha...haha! Mordred knelt on one knee, her sword sinking deep into the scorched earth. Her armor was covered in cracks, and blood oozed from the corner of her mouth—just looking at her, she looked even more disheveled than the crumbling Black Emperor in the sky. But she was laughing, a hearty laugh.

"Mother... did you see it?"

She laughed at her victory - this was perhaps her only true "victory" since the moment she was born.

See? Mother... your ambition... is nothing more than this!

however--

"Ambition?"

The sudden sound echoed indifferently in the sky.

"You mean, a guy like this is my ambition?"

Mordred's laughter was suddenly interrupted by an eerie silence. The Black Emperor in the sky ceased his struggle, his shattered body frozen in a twisted silhouette. The wind on the battlefield died, even the drifting dust stilled in mid-air.

Gawain suddenly felt his holy sword grow incredibly heavy—no, the entire space seemed to freeze. With difficulty, he shifted his gaze and saw Morgan hovering above the wreckage of Nighold. Twelve scarlet incisions rose beneath her feet, forming a new round table.

My dear children.

Morgan's voice echoed from all directions simultaneously - a voice of unprecedented joy.

"Aren't you underestimating your mother a little bit?"

"And... underestimate yourselves?"

Chapter 288 Mother

Morgan stood in the sky, looking down at the knights who looked somewhat disheveled.

There was infinite pity in her eyes.

She was not the real Morgan, she was not their real mother - but at least in this moment, she truly felt the radiance emanating from these children.

Those glories are the proof of the life's work of that "witch concubine" Morgan.

"Gawain."

She spoke.

Her voice is not loud, but it can accurately reach everyone's ears and even everyone's heart.

"You are the most outstanding child, the most perfect knight."

Morgan first commented on Gawain.

Her comments were spot-on, for Gawain was indeed the most dazzling of the Knights of the Round Table. With his golden hair as bright as the sun, impeccable martial arts, and a heart devoted to chivalry, he inherited nearly all of Morgan's strengths, yet miraculously avoided all of her darker sides.

In other words, when the child named Gawain was being raised, the woman named Morgan le Fay was not yet the enchanting concubine who later became her.

She firmly believed that her child was the only descendant of the Pandragon family and the future Red Dragon King who would save Britain from the White Dragon King Vortigern.

As for the subsequent outcome... well, the most loyal knight met the most perfect king, so there's nothing much to say, right?

"Gareth."

After Gawain, Morgan called Gareth's name.

This is her eldest daughter and the child she loves the most.

Morgan's gaze fell on Gareth, and a rare hint of softness appeared in his eyes, which were always full of calculation.

"Isn't it hard to be a knight?"

Gareth gripped his spear so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

But a bright smile appeared on her face.

Of course, being a knight is hard work—but she also gained the joy that she couldn't get as a princess... and of course, sadness.

Then, as if he suddenly thought of something, Gareth raised the knight's lance in his hand, and the blue flame emitted from the tip of the lance swayed continuously in the wind - Morgan recognized the blue magic power, and knew even more about the origin of her relationship with this magic power.

Although they were not the same person, she was certain that this blue demonic flame must have been ignited by that "Morgan" himself for his beloved daughter.

"That's right."

"So, I also wanted to be a knight?"

"Princess Knight..."

"And then you, Gahoris."

Morgan turned his gaze to the melancholy prince, and his voice suddenly softened, "You always think too much... That's like me."

The taciturn Gahoris habitually remained silent - he was a child raised as a "prince", embodying the nobility and mystery of the Red Dragon Princess.

"As for you, Aggravin."

"I think you should be the smartest one - because she never actually taught you any skills other than assassination, right?"

Agguiwen stood there in silence, traces of faint blue magic flowing across his jet-black armor. His eyes were as calm as a deep pool, yet they held a sharpness that bordered on paranoia.

Morgan was right—he was indeed the special one.

Gawain was the Sun Knight, Gaheris was the Melancholy Prince, and he, Aggiwen, was shaped from the very beginning into a pure weapon.

A weapon designed to kill the "King".

His mother, the witch who had fallen into depravity and became a demon concubine, had never taught him any skills other than assassination. In other words, all the skills he currently possessed, whether it was the skills in handling government affairs or the skills in preparing potions, were "imitated" bit by bit by him following his mother.

In the end, he did become the sharpest weapon as his mother wished - but the wielder of the weapon was no longer his mother.

"After that……"

"It's me, it's me, it's my turn!"

Before Morgan could name his name, Mordred let out an excited cry.

She raised her head and looked at her mother with some anticipation, really wanting to know what kind of evaluation she would get from her mother.

——But after staring at her for a long time, Morgan simply shook his head and sighed.

"never mind."

"As long as you... are happy."

……

Morgan had nothing good to say about Mordred.

Because from the beginning to the end, this child never carried her "ideals".

——Morgan had gone completely insane at that time. She created Mordred out of anger and despair.

So, just like the "Black Joan of Arc" - from the very beginning of its birth, this child is also an "unblessed" life.

She only carries the rage and despair of Morgan le Fay—or perhaps the Lord of the Isle of Britain.

But the child himself seemed unaware of this.

"No, it should be said that she subconsciously rejected this matter."

Mordred is smart, but unlike the intelligence that ordinary people perceive, her intelligence is closer to "beast-like intuition." She knows what is harmful to her, so she will avoid it as much as possible, or even not think about it.

——As long as she doesn't think about it, she is the queen mother's good baby and the father's heir.

Of course, none of this really matters.