Davidian's Holy Grail War

With the help of Kailai, who appeared out of nowhere with soldiers to cover their retreat, King Arthur was able to escape from the brink of death.

I heard that during this battle, Ke Qing was never able to see the King again until the very end.

It was during this retreat that Gawain and Mordred engaged in a one-on-one duel.

Although Gawain had Mordred cornered in the early stages of the battle, he was ultimately defeated and killed in the duel due to a recurrence of an old injury sustained during his fight with Lancelot.

But his battle was also meaningful, as the wounded Mordred was forced to retreat from the front lines to the rear to take on command duties.

If Mordred the Red had remained active on the front lines, King Arthur's army would likely have faced an even more difficult situation.

However, this turned the siege into a war of attrition. The bloody fighting between the British compatriots lasted for seven days.

Artoria understood why they would resort to such despicable tactics; if they couldn't kill her as quickly as possible, the battle would end up like this.

The battle lines were stretched thin, and repeated retreats and pursuits led to the complete destruction of Britain in flames.

She also understood the reasons for the rebellion: just as she and David had predicted, the people's patience had reached its limit.

Barren land, relentless invasion, children dying of hunger.

They had endured for far too long, and now that endurance had reached its limit. The feudal lords had launched this rebellion. The king was indeed an ideal king, but they could no longer tolerate the current situation.

As Kaiqing said, while praising the ideal king, once it is discovered that the ideal king is unable to save everyone, all responsibility is shifted onto her.

She bore it all, yet she did not lament it. Because she understood that the end was at this very moment.

She was powerless to change the destruction of Britain, but Artoria still had things she wanted to do.

That is revenge.

On the morning of the seventh day, the battle advanced to Camran Hill. The fierce fighting between the two armies continued until dusk, with both sides suffering heavy casualties. Apart from the two of them, there were no other survivors on this battlefield.

She stood on the hill, while Mordred stood at the foot of the hill.

"Finally, King Arthur... It has been far too long. I have lingered on this battlefield for far too long to get to this point."

Her voice was as cruel and resentful as a demon's, and Artoria stared at her and the sword in her hand. It was she and that sword who had taken Davian's life from behind.

"What's wrong? Your country is finished, everything is over! No matter who wins, everything has been destroyed!"

Mordred wailed, and just from the sound of her voice, one could tell how frantic her emotions were. At this point, nothing else mattered.

"Why won't you pass the throne to me!?"

"Why didn't you tell the world that I'm your son?!"

"Why! Why? Why was I born in this form!"

The rebellious knight roared and charged up the hill toward King Arthur, wielding Clarent. His full-force attack was even able to knock Excalibur from Artoria's hand.

This was a life-consuming blow, Mordred's final madness.

Having withstood such a blow, Artoria drew her dark sword, Moonlit Night, and said, "It's simple, it's just because you lack the magnanimity of a king."

The next moment, in Mordred's eyes, who was holding Clarent aloft in preparation for a second attack, Artoria seemed to teleport right in front of her.

The dark sword cleaved her body diagonally from top to bottom, and where the holy sword struck, all her internal organs were split in two.

But at that very moment, just as Artoria completed her revenge, Mordred's helmet shattered, and Morgan's magic embedded in the armor was activated at the last instant.

Even though Mordred was definitely dead, her hands still came down to complete the slash.

The rebel's demonic sword shattered the king's helmet, sliced ​​open his skull, and utterly took away an eye and the remaining life.

Only in this brief moment, when Artoria had completely killed Mordred and her revenge was accomplished, did she relax her guard.

Morgan's magic worked; even just manipulating Mordred's corpse delivered a fatal blow to Artoria.

The body of the traitor Mordred lay on the ground, but Artoria could only stand on the hilltop with the Dark Sword in her hand as a support.

With her remaining eye, she gazed upon the desolate, corpse-strewn hills of Camlann, everything utterly destroyed. Just as Davidan had told her of the future when he appeared before her on the chosen day to stop her.

Chapter 163 "The Ending"

She struggled to straighten herself. The final outcome remained unchanged; she should have lamented, but found she couldn't and shouldn't sigh.

On the contrary, she felt a sense of relief, along with a sense of pride.

Although everything was destroyed, what they did, Davian, Gawain, Lancelot, Tristan, and all the Knights of the Round Table did what they were supposed to do over the years.

Although many mistakes were made, even those mistakes must have had their significance.

In her nearly forty years of life, she gained irreplaceable friends and teachers, experienced many adventures, and created countless stories.

Her life is something to be proud of, something others should praise.

Although her battles and her country will become relics of the past, these relics will become stories, crystallizing into new legends, passed down to future generations, inspiring their hearts and conveying the beautiful emotions they left behind.

At this moment, Artoria recalled the feelings she had on the chosen day.

Ah, that's right. Although her and David's wishes dashed Britain's hopes for a peaceful rest.

But in the process, many people were indeed smiling, and that was enough.

"Davian, our efforts have been worthwhile," Artoria murmured softly, then looked at the silver knight who was running towards her through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

This was the last loyal Knight of the Round Table. Although he was the most ordinary knight among them, he persevered to the very end, which is commendable.

"My King! My King!" Bedivere shouted as he rushed toward the king. But when he saw the king's injuries, his previously tense face was immediately filled with uncontrollable grief.

Bedivere had never seen his lord so badly injured, and he bit his lip to keep from crying.

"My king, I will take you away from here!" He placed the king's hand on his shoulder, then used his one arm to support the king's body and walked away into the distance.

The white horse he rode was still obediently waiting there for its master. If he wanted to leave, at least let the king have a place to rest properly.

He knew the king was immortal. Therefore, he believed that if they reached a quiet and peaceful place, the king's wounds would surely be healed. No, Bedivere could only believe that.

Artoria has let go of her obsession and grief, and has accepted this final outcome with a sense of relief and pride.

But some people haven't let go. Their last thoughts before death turned into obsession, obsession into resentment, and resentment into curses. They lament, they yearn, they still don't want to give up.

How could you die here!

How could I just collapse here like this!

I must fight my way out of here! I must continue fighting for King Arthur!

Even though this is the last time, I still long to continue fighting for my king.

But there was a power, or rather, a sword, that heard the grievances and laments of these people before their final deaths. It traveled through time and space, simply because these grievances satisfied it.

It arrived here and absorbed the resentment of the crowd, transforming it into its own immense power. The resentment of these six thousand people gave it a deep sense of pleasure, and then it summoned the fantastical book.

【Eternal Phoenix】

The legend of the phoenix has now become a reality.

Of that resentment, the most powerful one accepted this power, while the others chose to become his allies.

He transformed into a golden entity, and the Sword Driver appeared at his waist. The sword and the Book of Fantasy flew into the driver automatically.

The golden figure, without hesitation, grasped the sword and awoke once more in the mortal world.

[Draw your sword!]

[The Eternal Phoenix! Nothingness, the Black Sword will return to nothingness!]

He gently twisted his neck, feeling the 'life' he had been given again.

“David, my name… is David Silrerick.” He murmured the name softly; it was his name. And he, too, had things to do.

Flames erupted from his body, and he transformed into a phoenix, soaring into the sky. He would continue to fight for his king. With this second life, he was determined to fight alongside his king to the very last moment.

Davidian followed the familiar magic of his king to Camlann, but when he landed, he did not see his king. Only the dark sword, Moonshade, remained.

He silently picked up the sword and said, "Thank you, Moonshade. Go back to your own time."

The blade of the Dark Sword trembled slightly, as if expressing its reluctance. But David still used it to cut through the dark space, allowing it to return to its own world.

At the same time, David bent down and picked up the lion-shaped helmet that had been knocked away by the king.

During his search, he keenly discerned how the King had left this place.

So he followed the hoofprints left by the horse, but when he arrived in the forest, he still could not find his king.

Only Bedivere stands here, holding in his hand the sword of Excalibur, the sword of our king.

"Lord Bedivere, you're actually here? Where is my king? And what's with that sword in your hand?" As the flames subsided, Davidan removed his armor, revealing his true face.

"Lord David, I...I..." Bedivere was speechless with shame and shock, and dared not tell him what had happened. But under David's persistent questioning, he finally told him the truth.

The severely wounded King, following the instructions of the Lady of the Lake when he obtained the Holy Sword, entrusted it to Bedivere and asked him to return it.

However, Bedivere did not return the sword the third time, because he knew that once he returned the sword, the king's life would come to an end.

But when Bedivere returned after failing to return the third time, the king was nowhere to be found.

Davidian's eyes widened in disbelief. When he finally came to his senses, he couldn't help but roar, for even his king couldn't attain a peaceful final rest.

In the midst of the despair of not being able to die because the holy sword had not been returned, she probably picked up the holy spear and left this place in a state of utter disorientation.

"Is this the final fate of my king! My lord cannot even find peace in death, and is forced to wander the world as a ghost! How could such a thing happen? What good deed have you done, Bedivere!"

David's pitiful wails made Bedivere feel even more ashamed in front of his longtime friend, for he had made such a mistake because of his personal feelings and momentary weakness.