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As a worthy knight should, Mordred could withstand the most incredible horrors and overcome any obstacles in his path.
Battles, hunger, fatigue, lack of sleep, cold and heat, are all things that a knight, a proper one at least, should have no trouble with. Once, Mordred's skull was split open, and even then he still held on for nearly twelve hours of desperate galloping to Camelot itself to report the result of the battle. All without removing his helmet, not only to keep his true identity a secret, but also to keep his head in one piece.
Mordred, of course, at the moment did not actually know definitively whether this was the way things happened, whether his head was split open that is. He didn't know for sure, since he had passed out after delivering his report, and after he awoke, he was already in one piece again. But at that moment, it clearly seemed to him that it represented the only plausible course of events – the headache was inexpressibly excruciating.
In any case, Mordred was used to withstanding the most incredible and cruelest blows, trained and stoic enough to pass any test…
Or so he thought.
As it turned out, however, Mordred seriously overestimated his fortitude and courage.
Or maybe he just wasn't trained enough to withstand this particular type of attack…
In any case, though, Mordred could withstand a hundred swords and a thousand arrows… He certainly could not withstand the awkward conversation he was currently having with his father.
That was why Mordred, a Saber – a hero with enough instincts, ferocity, and brutal fury to stand just one step below Berserker class boundary, was now demonstrating the skills of a class with which he had no affinity at all.
Namely, the Assassin.
With every fiber of his being, he's trying to summon from his memory every tip and skill still left in his mind, Mordred tried to be an inaudible shadow – an invisible ghost slithering through the walls of Chaldea.
Mordred, imagining himself to be a secret assassin, instead looked more like an awkward child, trying to huddle against the walls in an attempt to appear less visible than someone with even the least modicum of stealth.
In a way, you could even say that Mordred looked… Cute. He was acting like a child trying to hide from their parent's gaze, having eaten the last cookie and now watching with bated breath to see if the parent had already discovered this unforgivable sin.
However, telling Mordred that he looked 'cute' was only slightly better than telling him that 'she looked cute'.
She – I mean, he! Was a knight, a mighty warrior, the best Servant in the world, and all that…
Yes, and all that! That's right, that's exactly what Mordred wanted to say!
Okay, anyway, the problem – at least the one that he's currently facing – was not that Mordred didn't know how to be inconspicuous. At least any more than a child who thought his childish cunning was the pinnacle of intellectual planning.
What's more troubling was that Mordred was in the same vicinity as his father!
And from this, in turn, followed the fact that Mordred could have met him at any time!
That is to say, Mordred had already met his father. But that memory of the incident Mordred chose to erase from his memory, now pretending that nothing of the sort had happened in the past, and his periodic sparring with Jalter had arisen of their own accord. With no underlying motive whatsoever…
No matter, in any case, Mordred was now in danger of meeting his Father by accident and… And Mordred could not so easily accept the thought.
He could not simply pretend that there was nothing strange about it. That his passionately loved – and simultaneously fiercely hated, Father was only at arm's length away from Mordred, walking the same corridors, talking to the same people. It was even possible to meet his eyes!
The mere realization that Arthur – that is, Arthuria – was somewhere near him made everything inside Mordred grow cold. All thoughts in his mind ceased to a halt, and his hands began to tremble treacherously. A sensation in between the chance to meet his beloved idol in person, and the fear of meeting a stern teacher, forever imprinted in his memory.
A conflicting emotion that left Mordred himself torn between two incompatible impulses – to rush away or to get closer.
Oh yes, Mordred longed to approach his father, to talk with him as if nothing had happened, to talk about the weather… To find out what his favorite kind of coffee was… To get down on one knee and reaffirm his eternal chivalrous allegiance…
At the same time – and especially after their last meeting – Mordred couldn't just do that.
One casual glance at his father's figure was enough to knock out any possibility of Mordred from speaking, walking, breathing, blinking…
Mordred wanted to meet his father and at the same time…
At the same time, Mordred was incredibly afraid.
Scared of not hearing an answer to his questions, scared even to hear an answer. Scared of the possibility of seeing the emotion in his father's eyes, or the lack of it. He was scared of being unnoticed – of seeing his father pass by, looking somewhere else past Mordred himself, paying no more attention to him than Mordred himself might pay attention to a random passerby.
And yet, even with his fears, Mordred could not so easily retreat from his morbid obsession. Even the occasional actions of Jalter – or the figure of Angrboda passing periodically near the room of the Knight of Betrayal, claiming to be his mother, could not remove the thoughts pressing on Mordred's mind.
But neither could Mordred resolve them on his own – now instead locked forever in some strange dream consisting of a perpetual 'attempt to gather his thoughts and strength', an attempt that was destined to failure.
Perhaps the most ideal of all current options for Mordred was, perhaps, to seek help…
But, of course, there was no way Mordred could do that! Because he – or she – was a proud knight! In no way could Mordred simply admit his weakness by asking an outsider for help…
Exactly! In Mordred dwell the pride of a knight and King Arthur's only legitimate and worthy heir – not at all some emotion, especially one as ridiculous and foreign to that as embarrassment! Certainly not!
And that was why Mordred continued, day after day, to lurk neatly at the edge of his father's perception, hoping that he would not notice his presence…
"There she is again… " Hoping that Arthuria would fail to notice the actions of her son, daughter – long story, was a fool's endeavor.
Even without her skill, the Instinct that Arthuria had honed through her life and especially her sixth sense, even the instinct of a wild beast, bordering between unconscious understanding and foresight would notice Mordred. In fact, it was harder not to notice Mordred in the corridors of Chaldea, you have to be blind to actually fail to do that.
Mordred had little understanding of what 'stealth' should even look like. So for her, trying to be as stealthy as possible was to desperately huddle in corners and to peek around every corner. Mordred looked exactly like the kind of person who would be the first to be noticed.
Furthermore, Mordred, unaccustomed to walking quietly and carefully, occasionally stumbled over her steps, stomped loudly and hissed curses just as loudly, accusing the world around her of trying to keep her from secretly watching her father.
"Although…" Arthuria's mind slip a smile at the funny picture. "The world didn't need to stop Mordred from doing anything, she was doing a pretty good job of it herself."
Oh yes, Mordred had been stalking Arthuria – for at least… Hmm, how many days had it been since she had been summoned?
Arthuria wasn't sure, so she preferred to just mark it as some imprecise 'long time' – and…
And that was pretty much it, Mordred had done nothing else. Mordred had spent her entire time in Chaldea 'shadowing' Arthuria.
Arthuria didn't care if Mordred was chasing her, if she was trying to hide from her, or if she was watching her every action for some other nefarious reasons… Arthuria just didn't care. There could have been any other Servant in Mordred's place, and she wouldn't care – the fact that it was Mordred was in that position didn't affect Arthuria.
Well, almost…
But admitting – even to herself – that this situation still seemed at least a little uncomfortable was difficult for Arthuria.
And of course, the reason was pride – that's right, her royal pride, her legendary king figure, maybe even some ancient magic…
And absolutely not that Arthuria was embarrassed to ask for help with such a problem!
Arthuria had no such emotion in her arsenal at all, like embarrassment, or anything like that, let everyone know about it!
Anyway, such a thing wasn't important, Arthuria didn't care at all about the fact that Mordred was trying to stalk her all the way to Archer – Arthuria wouldn't break the flow of her routine…
Especially since that routine consisted of Archer's cooking!
So, completely unconcerned and while pretending not to notice Mordred's actions behind her back, she made her way to the kitchen, after which, with a regal gesture, she opened the door to the kitchen, eager to see Archer before her…
And the hamburgers she was promised!
Mordred waited a few seconds before making his way across the hall and to the closed door behind which his father had hidden, before frowning. He then kneeled down on one knee before leaning his ear against the door, trying to hear exactly what was going on in the other room at the moment.
Planting his bare ear against the cold metal of the door that led, judging by the sign, to the kitchen, Mordred froze, holding her breath, trying to catch the barest of sounds.
At first, he heard only some rustling, then muffled words, which the knight could not hear what's being spoken. Then a light clatter, as if something was placed on the table… Then further, the sound of a chair being moved from its place… And then…
"Mordred? What are you doing?" An unexpected, and loud voice made Mordred shudder and her heart, beating slowly to let her ears hear what was happening outside the door, froze in horror.
Not a single thought had time to form in Mordred's mind, before, with all her speed, she turned toward the speaker.
What appeared before her eyes was a man in his early twenties, give or take a couple of years, dressed in a plain gray shirt and black pants, ending in black boots and girded with a leather belt.
The realization that this was what Ainz, Mordred's new Master, looked like came to her a moment later, along with the retreat of the fear and shock that came from nowhere, turning into rage instead.
"What do you want!?" Mordred reacted aggressively instantly, not hiding her voice and, speaking frankly, not particularly mindful of the secrecy she was supposed to maintain. "I'm busy here!"
"Hmm?" Ainz started looking around after Mordred's words, especially at her posture, leaning on her knees and resting against the iron door, clearly trying to eavesdrop on what was going on the other side of the door… "I guess at this point I should ask – with what?"
"What do you care!?" Mordred barked back, not rising from her posture, looking at Ainz with eyes that saw a near-certified enemy. Though gradually, as the anger or more likely the shock began to recede, Mordred's gaze grew more and more placid. After a second, Mordred exhaled and looked at Ainz with a look that was still somehow angry, but not so hostile anymore. "What do you want?"
"Truthfully, I was just surprised to see you looking so strangely, so I came over to ask why." Ainz glanced at the girl – though the girl herself would have been extremely opposed to such a designation.
"What are you talking abou…!" Mordred began to furrow her brow before the abrupt disappearance of the thing supporting her arms caused her to suddenly plummet forward.
At the moment of her fall, a whole heap of thoughts flitted through Mordred's mind. That she was on a mission… That she was following her father… And that she wanted to quietly overhear their conversation and that she didn't want to attract attention…
At the same time with these thoughts passing through her head came the sound of her doom. The creak of door hinges, marking the opening of the door, which Mordred had been leaning on – and that the support that had disappeared for a perfectly logical reason.
Someone had opened the door, and there was only one possibility for their identity.
"Master," The voice that Mordred heard instantly, caused her to fall to the ground, bumping her face into the floor, and for her to freeze in this posture.
For an infinitely longer second, Mordred grasped at the thought of pretending that the impact on the floor had caused her to lose consciousness… But the thought that this was unrealistic for a Servant of her class – and the fact that by doing so she would appear even more pathetic to her father than she did even now, made Mordred rise from the floor.
Still, as he looked into her father's cold eyes, Mordred had to do her best not to give away her true feelings in her voice. "Father…"
"Mordred," Arthuria's cold voice reached Mordred's ears, its lack of emotion almost enough to make her cry.
Ainz, an unwilling observer of the unfolding events, could only utter a small exclamation at the realization of the car crash he's witnessing. "Oh…"
In YGGDRASIL there were many characters from Arthurian mythos – including Arthur himself – and his son, Mordred… Though they were both guys, imagine his surprise when he found out that they were actually girls!
In the game itself, it was rare to observe the interactions between these two NPC's, and perhaps for the best. As far as Ainz himself could recall from various details of the lore, and quest descriptions, the relationship between them was very peculiar. Mordred was King Arthur's half-demon son, conceived from his own sister, Morgan, who concealed the fact that he was a half-demon, and also the fact that he was Arthur's son until the perfect moment for her plans.
And though Mordred was a great swordsman – he was a Dark Paladin, not really a mage and not really a warrior to be exact – and his relationship with Arthur was very strained indeed. Arthur didn't trust him at all.
Besides, the fact that Arthur was a pure Paladin, the mirror opposite of Dark Paladins, and a defender of humanity and extremely kind – for human races that is. Their personalities were the exact opposites, so conflict between them was to be expected. Still, thanks to his personal strength and adroit execution of orders, Mordred was still one of Arthur's elite soldiers and generals.
And then, in the course of one quest, Arthur found out who Mordred really was – fortunately for Mordred, while Arthur was away for Camelot. Arthur then decided to execute both Mordred and Morgan for their deeds upon his return.
Depending on a Player's previously completed quests, race, and karma score, Players in this situation had several possible ways in which this quest chain was to progress. And since, aside from Mordred and Morgan, there were no other non-humans with negative karma in Camelot – it made perfect sense that Ainz Ooal Gown collectively came out on their side of the line.
In which Mordred decided to try to kill his father first by the Players' assistance, through a secret passage the Players were to attack the moment Arthur arrived and destroy Camelot. A place that to any Heteromorph Player was like the headquarters of PK'ers. The fact that pretty much all the NPCs in the castles regarded any Heteromorph Players as less than scum, regardless of Karma scores, just makes the quest sweeter.
Mordred would also disable some traps, lured enemy NPCs to certain locations suitable for battle with them, and even assisted in a few battles – only in spirits though, using support abilities rather than fighting directly.
Because the developers of YGGDRASIL didn't want to make it easy for the players at all.
In any case, after the final battle in the throne room with King Arthur – a battle that Ainz himself stupidly got into, and one-on-one with Arthur at that. Only through incredible luck, use of exploits, traps, disposable mobs and help from other Players did he not just die like an idiot. In the end, Mordred had killed Arthur, who had cursed Mordred at the moment of his death.
In a moment that Ainz was sure were in many Player's picture books, not caring for his Father's curses, Mordred removed the crown from Arthur's head and placed it on himself as he ordered his loyal – and only surviving – knights to destroy Camelot. After which, together with his mother, Morgan, he set out to travel away from the ruins of the castle.
In total, if the information Ainz had gleaned from YGGDRASIL was at least partially similar to what had happened here, Ainz could easily understand the reason Arthuria and Mordred, meeting each other's gaze, froze, staring into each other's eyes.
Ainz instantly felt an irresistible desire to get as far away from the scene before him as possible…
But at the same time, Ainz felt that as their boss he had to be present during what was happening in order to help his two subordinates – the Servants – to understand the current situation… Is this what it felt to have siblings who hate each other working in the same company? At least Bukubukuchagama and Peroroncino, for how much they argue, actually got along well.
Although, maybe he was wrong and his presence in the current situation was just unnecessary. If this situation was really serious and personal, then he should leave in order not to embarrass everyone present…
Ainz, immersed in these two conflicting thoughts, tried to look up to find Archer, for some reason Ainz had a feeling that Archer had ample experience dealing with fighting women. Judging by the fact that it was the kitchen, he had to be near…
However, his gaze met only Arthuria, with Archer nowhere in sight…
Still, judging by the whole tray of burgers displayed on the table behind Arthuria, he must have been here a few seconds ago… The fact that Archer was nowhere to be seen only confirmed Ainz suspicions that Archer must be a playboy in the past, the ability to quickly run away as soon as women troubles loom, speaks of ample experience.
Before Ainz could contemplate asking Archer for lessons, Mordred had risen sharply from her stupor, trying to pretend that she was perfectly all right – which was rather difficult to do, given the several large dirt stains on her face. "What… are you doing now, father?"
Even to Ainz, who was almost blind to such things, Mordred's voice was surprisingly unconvincing. The strange tone that managed to be both squeaky and low, as if the speaker herself didn't know what emotion she was feeling at the moment.
"Eating," Arthuria answered briefly, then turned away towards the whole tray that held many more of the uneaten burgers, and then corrected herself. "I was until you showed up."
"Oh, ha, huh?" Mordred, tongue-tied by such a response, tried to answer instantly. "I mean, of course I could have guessed, I mean, yes, I mean, I just thought… I mean, of course, that's it…"
Even Ainz, a creature rather low on the list of great orators, involuntarily grimaced and twitched an eyebrow at such a pathetic, almost panicked reply of Mordred, who obviously forgot how exactly she was supposed to structure her sentences.
"I mean, I didn't think a Servant – though of course there's nothing wrong with that – I mean, wrong doesn't mean you can't do it, but I say I have no problem. I mean, problems with things going on, not specifically with food, I mean I like to eat too and…" Ainz couldn't see Mordred's eyes, but he had no trouble imagining. With each word she said, her pupils must have dilated in horror as she tried to think of some follow-up phrase, but ended up making the whole sentence only more and more awkward.
And judging Arthuria's expression, she was not particularly amused by Mordred's words – which only made Mordred even more panicked, continuing to babble, each word more awkward than the last… Why is Mordred now talking about the time she got bonked in the head?
Eventually, the awkwardness of the conversation on Mordred's part exceeded even Ainz' enormous threshold of patience, forcing him to step forward – partly from secondhand awkwardness that such a conversation had continued at all, partly out of pity for Mordred, desperate to end the dialogue and unable to do so. "Excuse me, I hope you do not mind if I somewhat interject?"
Ainz couldn't find any particular emotion in Arthuria's eyes, though he found anger and relief in equal measure in those of Mordred, who turned her head toward him. "Maybe we should sit down at the table and have a few burgers?"
"What do you mean 'we'?!" Mordred blurted out immediately, her expression wouldn't look out of place from a deer in the headlights, but Arthuria's answer silenced her instantly. "Of course."
Arthuria took a step inside the kitchen, letting Mordred and Ainz pass, who, after taking a few steps, settled themselves at the table, looking at the dish Archer had prepared.
Arthuria, followed close behind, closing the door behind them, and then all three sat down at the table, facing each other…
Ainz, sitting by the side, could look at the two girls at the same time – judging by the way Mordred lowered her gaze, the situation was only slightly less awkward for her than the previous one.
What surprised Ainz the most, however, was the fact that Arthuria, who until then had seemed to Ainz an example of indifference to the world around her, hadn't even reached her hands into the hamburgers. Ainz was pretty sure that there were an obscenely limited number of things that could make Arthuria not touch Archer's food… Not that Ainz could much blame her for that.
In any case, the situation between the two girls – although they managed to be father and son to each other, was as strange as the description of their familial relationship.
However, Ainz lacked the ability to dispel this atmosphere.
He could certainly have tried to take the bull by the horns and play a 'tough boss' and force them to get along…
But Ainz considered himself so unsuited to the 'tough boss' image, and the situation was so delicate, that he did not want to even think about it. Never mind the consequences of such actions. While it might not hurt him much, he doesn't want to take Excalibur blasts to the face.
Hmm, in that case, what should he do now?
With an effort, Ainz tried to remember what he had managed to read in the books he had gotten – not the magic books, but the 'how to be a good boss' books.
Remembering a good one, Ainz tried to smile and move the subject to at least neutral ground, bringing them to a dialogue at least. "I think we should eat the hamburgers before they get cold!"
As if these words brought the two girls out of their stupor, they both looked at Ainz, then, for a moment, at each other. Synchronously, the two girls reached for the burgers, trying to pretend that that was what they cared about right now. "Yes, of course…"
After that, without talking, but repeating each other's movements to the extent that involuntarily Ainz remembered the two Neros, both girls took a hamburger and started digging in.
After that, instantly, each of the girls broke into a smile as they tasted it.
Ainz, however, as much as he wanted to participate in such a thing himself, didn't reach for the food, just in case, and stayed put.
Mordred, after finishing her three bites, instantly grinned happily. "I could finish off three dozen of those!"
"I don't think so, they're too filling, you have to take at least a half hour break between each dozen," Arthuria replied in a natural tone, as if she were speaking from her own extensive experience.
"Huh! I could do it without a break!" Mordred replied with a smug smirk… Before suddenly realizing exactly to whom she had responded to.
Instantly the atmosphere, which had brightened up for a second, now hung in a tense silence, silencing Mordred and Arthuria.
Arthuria, on the other hand, looked away from Mordred's face…
And Ainz, who had been watching the whole time, noticed the way Arthuria tried too hard to pretend that this averting her gaze was completely accidental and unrelated to Mordred's actions.
There was a tense pause for a second before…
"So… Is that a wager I hear?" Arthuria, still looking just past Mordred's eyes, answered in such a feigned casual tone that Ainz could only surmise how difficult it was for Arthuria to mimic that 'unimpressed tone' she usually spoke in.
Mordred, frozen for another second, nodded slowly. "Yes… That's right… A wager…"
"In that case… " Ainz drew attention to himself as he rose from the table, both to escape the two bickering father and child, and to also be a good boss. "I'll find Archer… To make this wager work."
At these words Arthuria and Mordred nodded in unison, then, noticing their synchronicity, pretended that it didn't bother them at all, and pretend they didn't see each other doing so.
Ainz, on the other hand, took a few steps from the table and smiled inwardly.
Great, the beginning of a fruitful dialogue had been made! Of course, he couldn't solve all the problems between the two girls at once – and in general he probably should have let them sort it out on their own, but…
He had started a dialogue between them!
Like a real good boss, he had helped them – albeit a little – with the problem! And he didn't look like an undiplomatic patsy prying into their business! He had left the stage at just the right moment, finding a plausible excuse for not getting involved in a showdown between two girls with complicated family relationships!
Oh yes, Ainz was on a roll!
Perhaps Ainz could congratulate himself, his actions had, in fact, had a perfect effect!
There was only one concern that caused Ainz to exhale sadly.
He had never tasted the hamburgers Archer had prepared…
And judging by the mood of the two Sabers – he couldn't even count on trying them in the next few days. Archer probably wouldn't be approachable in cooking for him after he'd landed him more work.
Being a good boss is so hard.
Name: Mordred Pendragon
Race: Heteromorphic
Title: Knight of Treachery
Job: Servant of Ainz Ooal Gown \ King Arthur's Knight (?)
Residence: Chaldea, on the periphery of Arthuria's vision
Karma: +20 (Neutral)
Race Level: Homunculus (1)
Class Level: Saber (15)
Swordmaster (10)
Berserker (5)
Knight (10)
Others (20)
Total: 60 Class Levels + 1 Race Level = 61 Total Levels
HP: 80
Mana: 60
Physical Attack: 70
Physical Defense: 0
Dexterity: 60
Magical Attack: 0
Magical Defense: 60
Resistance: 20
Special Ability: 80
Skill: Clarent Blood Arthur
Level: 90
A strong AOE attack in the form of a fairly long line. It deals mostly Electric damage, though a small portion of that damage is dealt by fire, mana, and as physical blast damage.
Player Comments:
— Eh, I'm bored. I just have nothing to say – just another no-interest build.
— I'm curious, each of the classes taken, how does it result in such a stat build? Well, there's the Saber or Swordmaster class, shouldn't it automatically increase the level of physical defense? Knight classes, in general, are a frontline fighting class aimed at building Resistance and Physical Defense, compensated by weaker magical defense and physical attack… So… WHAT, YOU ACTUALLY PURPOSEFULLY BROUGHT DOWN YOUR PHYSICAL DEFENSE TO ZERO BY YOUR OWN ACTIONS?!
— Oh yes, let's do it, one single build in which we will change only the color of the special ability. The blue explosive beam we'll call 'STARFALL OF ETERNITY', yellow will be called 'THE TRUE EXCALIBUR', and the red will be 'CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR'! How truly original, just awesome! I can't understand, do players purposely build themselves the same build, identical to a tee, with only the difference being the color of sword beams? Or have the creators of YGGDRASIL gotten THIS lazy?!
