The Strength of Unity
"Your father was taken away by Vortigern!" Morgan exclaimed urgently, her eyes wide with concern.
"Let's save him quickly!" Gawain responded, her determination palpable as she effortlessly hoisted Morgan onto her shoulders.
Morgan was momentarily puzzled. "What are you doing?"
"I'll carry you, so hurry up!" Gawain explained briskly, already in motion.
As they raced forward, Gawain began to fill Morgan in on her newfound abilities. "From nine to noon, I can triple my power, and the same goes from three to sunset!"
Morgan struggled to believe it. "Is that true?"
"Absolutely! That's why I made it here so fast!" Gawain declared proudly. Her enhanced strength allowed her not only to excel in combat but also to move with incredible speed, almost like a human cannonball.
Originally, Kay had sent two swift scouts with Gawain, but they had been too slow. With her father in danger, Gawain had prioritized speed above all else.
As they rushed through the battlefield, the wind whipped around Morgan, threatening to overwhelm her. Although she was a skilled magician, she wasn't as durable as a knight. Still, she didn't dare ask Gawain to slow down. "What if Lott is in danger?"
With that thought in mind, Gawain plunged deeper into the chaos, eventually placing Morgan in a safe spot before preparing to confront their foes.
From a distance, Lott watched the scene unfold, feeling a mix of disbelief and pride. His daughter was all grown up! How was he supposed to hold his head high in front of her now? He silently compared their heights; at over 1.8 meters, he still felt dwarfed by Gawain.
King Uther, catching his breath, glanced at the pair and raised an eyebrow. "When did you have such a tall daughter? I thought you were married to my innocent daughter, not some illegitimate child!"
"Hey! I'm not an illegitimate child!" Gawain protested, crossing her arms defiantly. "I was born to my parents, not some mistake!"
Lott quickly jumped in to clarify, "Ahem, this is Morgan's and my child. She's just a bit anxious." Turning to Gawain, he added, "Come on, Little Gawain, this is your grandpa!"
"Wait, what?" King Uther exclaimed, taken aback. "This is my granddaughter!?"
Just then, a weak voice broke through the tension. "Do we still have enemies?" Galahad asked, glancing at Vortigern, who was still struggling to rise.
"Oh, yes," Gawain nodded, her expression shifting to fierce determination as she unsheathed her sword, pointing it directly at Vortigern.
Despite the numerous attacks he had endured, Vortigern was nearing his end. But Gawain was now at her strongest.
"It's still a quarter of an hour until sunset. Vortigern, are you ready to face the glory of my sword?" Gawain declared confidently.
As she stepped forward, she began to channel her energy. "This sword is the incarnation of the sun! It will burn away all impurity!"
"Excalibur Galatine!!!!" she cried, unleashing her attack.
Even Vortigern, a formidable foe, could not withstand the combined might of so many. The white dragon, a terror in Britain for decades, now faced his reckoning. The brilliance of Gawain's strike pierced through Vortigern's form, and he fell slowly, defeated.
"Father, how did I do!?" Gawain turned to Lott, her eyes shining with anticipation.
"Excellent! Just like I taught you," Lott replied, beaming with pride. Although he wasn't sure how much he had truly taught her, seeing her succeed filled him with joy.
As Vortigern's body collapsed, leaving only a human figure supported by his sword, Lott, Uther, and Gawain gathered around their fallen foe.
King Uther smirked. "I told you I'd outlive you, brother."
"If it weren't for your good daughter and son-in-law, I'd have been victorious," Vortigern replied with a bitter smile, turning his gaze away from Uther.
"Hahaha, you're always reluctant to admit defeat. You act as if only you represent Britain," Uther teased.
"Who else could? You don't have the qualifications. But I admit, your children do surpass me," Vortigern acknowledged.
"Yeah, compared to them, we seem a bit lacking," Uther agreed.
"I'm blushing from your compliments," Vortigern quipped, his bravado faltering slightly.
Just then, Lott approached with his crutch, the 'Vasilis' in hand. "Well, don't mind me; keep chatting! Vortigern, if you die embarrassed by me, maybe you'll come back?"
"…"
"…"
Vortigern muttered, "You're so thick-skinned. Would you even feel embarrassed?"
"Don't frame me! I'm an honest politician!" Lott retorted, unable to resist the banter.
Morgan, watching from the side, rolled her eyes, a mixture of exasperation and amusement shared by Uther and Vortigern.
"If you're truly innocent, then I'm a paragon of knightly virtue! Your methods are anything but honourable," Morgan interjected, crossing her arms.
"This isn't my idea! It's wisdom from the East!" Lott defended, trying to shift the blame.
"East? Rome?" Vortigern asked, intrigued.
"No, it's further east than Rome," Lott replied, amused. He decided against delving into the complexities of Chinese philosophy, knowing it would only confuse Vortigern further.
"Is that so?" Vortigern said, not pressing further. The tension that had once filled the air dissipated, replaced by a strange camaraderie forged in the fires of battle.