Chapter 33: The Final Stand (rewrite)

The Desperate Battle

King Uther, seated on the castle walls, wore a wry smile. Despite his preparations, he had severely underestimated Vortigern's resolve. The intensity of Vortigern's attacks had escalated sharply in recent days, a period coinciding with Merlin's report that Lott and Morgan had launched an offensive against Vortigern's stronghold.

Instead of diminishing, Vortigern's offensive grew fiercer, pressing hard on Camelot's defences. King Uther mused, "If I lose this war, it will truly be my end." He closed his eyes, seeking a brief respite after repelling the latest assault.

The enemy's attack had just been pushed back, and Uther assumed they would take some time to regroup. "It's unlikely they'll strike again immediately," he thought. It's not as if they're machines with endless energy.

However, to Uther's shock, the enemy launched another attack almost immediately. Has their recovery time been so short? he wondered, confused by the relentless assault.

Observing the vast numbers and the figure of Vortigern charging at the forefront, King Uther understood that Vortigern was preparing for an even stronger push. Standing up, Uther grabbed his long sword and called out, "Prepare for battle!"

Despite their exhaustion, Camelot's soldiers remained fiercely loyal to Uther. As the enemy approached, they braced themselves for another confrontation.

Vortigern, clad in black, charged forward like a menacing dragon, striking fear even into Uther. The king, trembling, took two steps back but quickly reasserted himself, lifting his sword and engaging in combat.

The clash between Uther and Vortigern was fierce. Uther drained from continuous fighting and nursing numerous injuries, struggled to keep up with Vortigern's ferocity. Despite his efforts, he found himself at a severe disadvantage.

Uther, grappling with exhaustion, managed to ask Vortigern, "You're fighting so hard because you have no retreat, right?"

"Yes," Vortigern confirmed with a nod before launching another fierce attack.

In battle, Vortigern made sure to deny any opportunity for Uther to catch his breath. "Who orchestrated these plans?" Vortigern demanded, his blade never pausing.

"Oh, do you think I'll tell you?" Uther smirked, his lips curving into a grimace.

As Uther faced certain defeat, he thought, Once I'm gone and Chalk City falls, Vortigern's assault will end. Lott will rise to avenge me.

Uther focused on protecting Lott. "It doesn't matter. Once I capture Chalk City, I'll find out the truth," Vortigern declared coldly. He continued his assault, swinging his sword with lethal precision.

Uther's expression grew increasingly peculiar. He seemed to be suppressing a smile. "What's with that face?" Vortigern demanded, perplexed by Uther's reaction.

"My brother, you can't afford such rewards," Uther replied with a grin, revealing that the promised double pay for Lott was a distant dream, given the circumstances.

Vortigern, puzzled and frustrated by Uther's cryptic response, intensified his attacks. Despite his growing apprehension, Uther fought back with what strength he had left.

After a series of intense clashes, Vortigern managed to break Uther's sword. Uther, now weakened and bleeding, coughed up blood as he was forced to his knees.

Vortigern, driven by a bloodthirsty zeal, prepared to deliver the final blow. "Uther, it's time to settle this between us," he declared, ready to kill the king.

The Final Stand

As death loomed near, Uther felt the weight of impending doom. He considered surrender, but ultimately, he resolved to fight on. The fall of Camelot and Chalk City would undermine Lott and Morgan's plans, and everything would be lost if he gave in.

He thought of Altria and the hope she represented. If he fell, it would be up to her and Lott to carry on the fight. He gritted his teeth, determined to stand firm.

With a broken sword in hand, King Uther charged at Vortigern, driven by the burning desire to protect his realm and his legacy. He fought with every ounce of strength left in him, unwilling to accept defeat without a fight.

Uther's blood surged with the fervour of battle. I refuse to fall short of expectations. I will stand my ground, no matter the cost.

The battle revealed a stark truth: only those who faced death without fear could emerge victorious. Despite Vortigern's prowess, his troops were faltering. The loss of his stronghold had demoralized them.

King Uther's forces, though outnumbered, fought with renewed vigour after Uther's desperate measures. The rising smoke and dust from behind Vortigern's army suggested the arrival of reinforcements.

Even as Vortigern inflicted severe wounds on Uther, the king held firm. Camelot's defences remained unbroken.

The anticipated reinforcements turned out to be a mere horse carrying a small tree, with a solitary figure in white holding an apple. The scene left Vortigern both bewildered and frustrated, as his enemies persisted in their resistance.

The battle continued, with both sides locked in a desperate struggle, each determined to claim victory.