Spears thrust with deadly precision; swords swung with masterful grace. Snow watched from behind, awe plain on her face. A Homunculus stood against his creator—a mighty mage, the Chosen among the Chosen.


    “Not bad for a Homunculus in close combat,” Arthur taunted.


    “You’re not half-bad yourself—mage with a spear?” Mordred shot back.


    “Almost forgot!” Arthur unleashed sharp stakes. Mordred twirled his sword to deflect. Fireballs followed; Mordred retreated, raising an ice wall. The clash birthed a misty haze. Arthur seized the moment, stabbing Mordred’s shoulder with his spear. Smirking at the reeling Mordred, he gloated:


    “Mage or Homunculus, mastering two magic schools is no small feat. Yet you and the Reaper did it—you’re my masterpieces!” Arthur laughed wildly.


    “I don’t know about Kira, but aren’t we identical?” Mordred smirked.


    “Only in face,” Arthur replied. “But I’m sick of this face—since it’s on you too.”


    Cracks split Arthur’s visage, fragments falling away. Black hair turned silver-gray with age, a wrinkled face emerged, shocking Mordred and Snow.


    “Surprised? I’ve lived over a century—aging’s natural,” Arthur charged again, stakes flying. Mordred sidestepped, firing lightning into the stakes. They absorbed it, then redirected it at Arthur, catching him off-guard. Mordred lunged, aiming for his head—but something, or someone, intervened.


    A towering knight in silver armor, missing his left arm from fierce battles past. Long, lustrous brown hair tied neatly, emerald eyes narrowed on a simple yet striking face. Bedivere—Knight of the Round Table, Beast of Loyalty and Courage—raised his sword to shield Arthur.


    “Fun, isn’t it?” Arthur’s aged face beamed. “The Reaper’s power is fully unlocked. Bedivere blurs the line between Beast and spectral warrior. Puppet, thinking we’re alike was your biggest mistake!”


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Bedivere surged forward, guarding Arthur. Relentless strikes forced Mordred back; Bedivere’s cuts wouldn’t heal, blood flowing freely. Cornered, Mordred faced Bedivere’s blade aimed at his core.


    “BR1SC0E: REAPER!!”


    A grim green flared in Bedivere’s emerald eyes. Snow’s greatsword deflected the blow, pushing the Round Table Knight back. “Sorry, but I can’t just watch,” Snow snapped, furious. They moved to the center, balancing the odds.


    “Thanks,” Mordred nodded slightly. “Stay in this form—we save the last one for the end.”


    “Got it,” Snow replied.


    “Stay behind me—I’ll clear your path upstairs,” Mordred whispered, charging with his sword. Snow followed close.


    Bedivere countered swiftly. Mordred dodged, letting Snow’s greatsword crash down. Tiles shattered under its weight, forcing Bedivere back. Arthur thrust his spear from behind to aid; unnoticed, Mordred closed in, grabbing Arthur’s head and unleashing fire, scorching half his face. The mage screamed in agony. Bedivere kicked Snow’s sword, throwing her off-balance, then rushed to Arthur’s side. Flesh and blood melted from Arthur’s face, revealing a metallic skull beneath.


    “What… You’re an Android!?” Snow gasped.


    “DON’T LUMP ME WITH YOU MACHINES!!” Arthur roared in rage. “I’m still human, still a mage—but I couldn’t beat time, so I replaced my body. I’M STILL HUMAN!!”


    “No way—Midgard wouldn’t aid an enemy!” Mordred’s face twisted in disbelief.


    “Of course not,” Arthur regained his composure. “I did this before Midgard and Olympus existed, before the war. I chased immortality—that’s why I rebuilt myself with steel, why I made Homunculi and Philosopher’s Stones. As long as my heart beats, I’m human!”


    “So we’re just experiments…” Mordred pointed his sword at Arthur. “You’re like us—soulless!”


    “BEDIVERE!! DESTROY THEM!!” Arthur bellowed.


    Bedivere charged at his command, Arthur hurling fireballs and stakes from behind. Mordred gritted his teeth, taking hits to close in. Bedivere’s sword slashed; he dodged. Snow’s blade blocked Bedivere’s advance. Mordred reached Arthur, who stabbed his spear into Mordred’s gut. Undeterred, Mordred pressed forward, the spear’s shaft slick with blood, Arthur’s grotesque face turning to panic. “Thanks for the tip,” Mordred whispered, plunging his golden sword through Arthur’s heart. The mage crumpled instantly, the Gremlin cowering in a corner, shrieking.


    “NOW!!”


    At Mordred’s signal, Snow dashed for the stairs. Bedivere pursued, but Mordred blocked him, yanking the silver spear from his body and hurling it forward before clashing swords with Bedivere. Their duel echoed below. Snow finally reached her friend. Kira—in Hel’s form—huddled amid black mist, a floating book flipping chaotically. Hearing footsteps, Kira looked up, tears unstoppable.


    “Snow…”


    “Don’t worry, Kira. Your Guardian Angel’s here!”