Type-Moon Simulation: Starting with Conquering a Greek Goddess!-Chapter 147 - : Knights Without Will to Fight

"Father! Are you trying to stop me!?"

"You said you wanted to destroy Britain, didn't you? Even if it's you, Mordred, I cannot allow such a thing."

"You're still going this far!"

Mordred took a deep breath.

As the strongest dragon protecting Britain, it was only natural for him to say such things and act accordingly.

"Moran... what Mordred said... even if I find the mystery... you can't recover... is that true?"

"...It's true."

Moran could no longer deceive Artoria.

The carefully crafted illusion he had created was shattered.

The truth spoken by the one she loved cast a shadow of despair over Artoria's eyes.

She had walked the path of kingship until now, believing there was a way to save Moran.

But now, she was told it was all a lie, a fabrication meant to ease her mind.

Tears slowly streamed down her cheeks.

"I won't let you suffer any longer, so, Father, don't stop me!"

Mordred pointed her sword at Moran.

Her words, filled with sincerity, were almost like a plea.

Her face, on the verge of tears, forced herself to raise her sword and fight.

[Ah... what is this?]

[What I initially wanted was for them to be happy, yet now I see sorrow and pain on their faces.]

[Without a doubt, the source lies within me.]

[No, you've long anticipated this day.]

[Because no matter what, he would meet his end, so he wanted to leave them with good memories.]

[If only I could have been a better actor.]

[Otherwise, it wouldn't have come to this.]

[You let out a self-mocking laugh in your heart, ridiculing yourself for failing to even be a decent actor in the end.]

[None of them are at fault.]

[Neither Artoria, nor Mordred, nor yourself. It's because you all wanted to uphold what you believed was right that this tragedy unfolded.]

[All along, you believed you could give them good memories, let them face your death with smiles, and that's why you kept fighting like this.]

[If walking the righteous path doesn't lead to a righteous outcome, then it must be the injustice of fate.]

[You need a miracle strong enough to defy fate.]

[It's because you believe this that you can uphold your dignity; it's because you believe this that you can fight bravely.]

"Let's fight again, Mordred. Last time I lost to you, but this time it won't be so easy."

[You declared your resolve.]

[The dragon's true ether once again leaked from your body, forming a pristine, shining external armor.]

[But, your brow furrowed slightly.]

[Using the dragon's armor was tormenting your body, every cell operating under immense strain.]

[Your final words were merely a bluff.]

"Father..."

Mordred gripped her magical sword tightly.

She tried to suppress the unbearable pain deep within her heart.

In the next moment, she swung her sword at Moran.

[Crimson lightning coiled around the magical sword.]

[Facing Mordred's relentless strikes, you countered with masterful swordsmanship, your movements as graceful as a dance, striking with precision.]

[The intensity was enough to make onlookers feel dazed, even overshadowing the cold gleam of the drawn sword.]

[But Mordred's momentum was no less formidable.]

[In the exchange of blows, the sword forged from dragon bone in your hand let out a mournful cry. Like your body, pushed to its limits, the sword was as battered as its master.]

[Outwardly, it still shone brilliantly, but inside it was already shattered, on the verge of collapse.]

[Moreover, your sword lacked the will to fight.]

[Because the beloved daughter before you was not your enemy, but someone you wanted to protect. She could never be seen as an adversary.]

"Stop, stop... please, no more..."

Mordred's voice was hoarse as she forced out the words.

Her hands trembled as she held the sword.

It was as if she was sobbing, not wanting to see this, fighting only to end her father's suffering.

Yet now, she saw him in agony.

All because he wanted to stop her.

"Huff—"

[You took a deep breath, suppressing the pain.]

[It was as if you were saying you wouldn't stop, wouldn't let your foolish daughter make a mistake she'd regret for a lifetime.]

[This was a father's duty.]

[So, even in pain, you had to endure and stand.]

[You would never back down easily.]

"Ugh—!"

[You leaned on your sword for support.]

[You felt a warm, metallic taste rise in your throat, forcing yourself to swallow the blood back down.]

[A trickle of blood escaped the corner of your mouth.]

"I've grown old... to show such an unsightly state... but Mordred, I won't back down."

Moran wiped the blood from his lips.

His eyes were clear, free of any impurity, and the sword he wielded was steady, his will unshakable.

But the pristine knight had aged.

No matter how much he didn't want to admit it, his radiance had faded.

What made it even harder for Mordred to face was—

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The way he looked at her remained gentle.

"Please... stop..."

Her knees, trembling from sorrow, fell to the ground.

She lost the strength to hold her sword.

With a clang, the magical sword fell into a puddle of water.

Like a plea, she wanted to stop the fight, knowing that continuing would only lead to the most terrifying outcome.

[You had reached your limit, unable to move. The next attack would be impossible to defend against.]

[Perhaps that would be your salvation.]

[If you were so deeply mired in pain—perhaps only by taking her sword strike, bleeding out on the spot, would you find release.]

[But, but she could never do it.]

[A daughter who loved her father more than anyone could never commit such a self-destructive act.]

[Even at this point, you hadn't yielded.]

[She could only admit defeat to her father's stubbornness and resilience.]

[Tears streamed down Mordred's eyes as she threw down her sword, casting her sorrow at your obstinacy.]

[Though it seemed like a desperate, almost underhanded move.]

[But you hadn't intended for this outcome from the start. You genuinely wanted to stop her.]

[It's just that the result appeared this way.]

[Three knights, each pursuing what they believed was right, had lost their will to fight.]