People often say this: Leon possesses a pair of eyes capable of seeing the hidden talent within others.
In a sense, he is the true "self" of all talent in the world.
And at that moment, in Leon's eyes, the knight of betrayal standing before him shone brilliantly.
A dazzling talent seemed to bloom from her very being. She was an extraordinary existence—someone who might appear once in millions… or perhaps not even among tens of millions.
But that was only natural.
After all, Mordred was an artificial lifeform created by Morgan using the genes of the Knight King, Artoria Pendragon, with the goal of surpassing her.
From the moment of her birth, her starting point was already far beyond that of ordinary people.
However, such talent came with a price.
Her life.
Morgan spoke calmly:
"Mordred can be considered my greatest masterpiece. She has the potential to surpass Artoria, but… her lifespan is extremely short."
In this world, those who wield magic often live far longer than normal. Some can reach two hundred, even three hundred years.
But Mordred…
She would barely make it to forty.
Moreover, her physical growth was several times faster than that of a normal person.
Although she appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen, in reality, she had not even reached ten years of age.
Leon observed the knight before him with interest and couldn't help but ask:
"Trading a long life for absolute power? That is… foolish. Do you not care?"
Mordred let out a cold laugh.
She already knew—and accepted—the limits of her own life. There was not a trace of fear in her eyes.
"It's just a shorter life. That means nothing to me."
She flashed a fierce smile, her teeth slightly bared.
"There are plenty of people out there who will live much longer than me… and amount to nothing."
Her gaze burned with intensity.
"Everyone dies eventually. If someone stops moving forward because of that fear… then they're a fool. I, Mordred, am no coward."
"Hahaha—! Well said. I like that."
Leon laughed loudly without hesitation and clapped in approval.
"You're right. The value of life lies not in its length… but in how brightly it burns. Even if it's only for a single day, if it shines brightly enough, it's worth more than a hundred empty years, Sir Mordred."
"Oh? Your Highness thinks so too?"
Mordred blinked in surprise, then smiled.
"Then it seems we get along quite well."
For her, that feeling was rare.
To be acknowledged.
To be understood.
Despite possessing strength that could place her among the top five Knights of the Round Table, Mordred had always been cast aside because of her origins.
Praise?
It was nearly nonexistent.
But at that moment, what Leon offered her was not merely praise.
It was recognition.
It was validation of her existence.
It was acceptance of the way she chose to live.
And because of that, her affinity for him rose rapidly.
In truth, before being rejected by Artoria, Mordred's loyalty could have been considered the most absolute among the Knights of the Round Table.
She deeply admired the Knight King.
Especially after learning about her own short lifespan.
At that time, Mordred made a decision:
To dedicate every fragment of her existence to the king she admired so much.
But…
She was denied.
Rejected.
Without even a glance back.
That shattered her faith completely.
It hurt far more than any physical wound.
Far more devastating than any defeat.
"This world… is not beautiful at all."
That was how Mordred felt in that moment.
And so, she left Camelot.
Abandoned the Round Table.
And came here.
Between her and Leon… there was a strange resonance.
In a way, they were similar.
Both had been rejected because of their birth.
But Leon responded with action—silencing the entire world.
And Mordred…
She was still walking toward a reunion with the one who had rejected her.
It was inevitable.
The more they looked at each other, the more they saw themselves reflected.
Leon smiled faintly.
"The Knight King did not want you… but I do. Sir Mordred, serve me."
Mordred fell silent for a brief moment.
Then she answered honestly:
"I only regret not meeting someone like you sooner. If it weren't already too late… I might have wished for you to be my adoptive father."
"Ha! Easy to say."
Leon laughed.
"I'm planning to march to Britain soon. Interested in coming with me?"
"To fight Artoria?"
Mordred's smile widened.
"Perfect! I want to lead the charge!"
The two understood each other instantly.
At that moment, Mordred did not yet realize it, but her fate had completely changed.
Whether it was her short life…
Or the tragic destiny of falling beneath the sacred spear, Rhongomyniad.
The instant she took Leon's hand—
A new future opened before her.
Leon, on the other hand, thought to himself:
"[Come to think of it… my lineup is getting a bit strange.]"
Even before officially meeting the Knight King, he had already formed close ties with people deeply connected to her.
Curious.
Meanwhile, Mordred was in an excellent mood.
If the Knight King did not want her… then it didn't matter.
Now, there was someone more worthy of her loyalty.
And, if one were to compare—
She had practically "changed jobs."
The Knights of the Round Table were undoubtedly famous throughout the world.
But Leon's reputation…
Was even greater.
If knights across the world had to choose between following the Dragon Tamer, Leon Fol Palettia, or the Knight King—
Most would choose Leon without hesitation.
After all…
No matter how glorious the Round Table was—
Britain was poor.
Mordred remembered it well.
In Camelot, lunch was often nothing more than mashed potatoes.
And sometimes… it wasn't even worth praising.
Especially when it was prepared by Gawain.
That was simply unbearable!
But there was nothing to be done.
The land was barren.
Even the Knight King led by example in frugality.
So it was common to see all the knights gathered around the table eating that same simple mash.
Suddenly, Mordred seemed to remember something.
"Ah, Your Highness… I have a request."
"Hmm? What is it?"
"The sword that chooses the king, Caliburn. When you defeat the Knight King… I want to challenge her once."
"That's all?"
Leon smiled faintly.
"No problem. But… don't take it too seriously."
He tilted his head, wearing a somewhat strange expression.
"To be honest, that whole 'whoever pulls the sword becomes king' story… sounds more like a trick by a certain mage."
The name Merlin came to mind.
And honestly, that method of selection sounded far too suspicious to be true.
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(End of Chapter)