Steel struck against steel, the sound resonating through the courtyard.

One of the combatants fell, panting hard before his opponent helped him back to his feet, a sweet smile gracing her young face.

"Thanks, Alex."

"No problem. You're getting good at this."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to beat you, though."

"To be fair, Alex is the daughter of both a demon and a goddess," stated Eris, looking up from her spellbook. "Not to mention her father's swordsmanship is unmatched."

"But I should be able to last more than a few minutes against her. How can I be a true knight of Camelot if I can't even face another kingdom's heir?"

"You're powerful enough, dear brother. Trust me: standing against Alex for even a few minutes is a challenge."

Mordred turned his attention back to Alexandra.

"Another round, Your Highness?"

"Only if you're up for it, Sir Mordred."

They went for another round, Mordred using his skills to evade and match Alex a little longer before she once again knocked his blade from his hand and he fell to the ground. Alex once again helped him to his feet and sheathed her blade, signaling she was done for the day.

"You're looking better every day," said a new voice.

"Papa!" she gasped, running over to a man who wasn't much taller than she was.

Meliodas smirked as he hugged his daughter.

"At this rate, you're going to surpass me."

"I… I don't think I…"

"C'mon. You're already at Holy Knight level and you're only twelve. By the time you're an adult you'll be so strong that I bet you'll lay me out flat when we spar."

Mordred sighed at Alex's panicked expression.

"He's right, you know," the dark-haired young man stated. "You're definitely more powerful than I am, at any rate."

"We'll be heading back to Liones tomorrow," Meliodas informed Alex. "Your mother wants you to get ready for the trip."

"Okay, then."

She ran into the castle and Mordred sighed.

"Listen, Mordred." Meliodas placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're as strong as you can be at this age. You're fifteen. Lighten up a bit."

"But…"

"I hardly ever see you smile. How's anybody gonna take you seriously as a Holy Knight if you don't have a sense of humor?"

"The universe does. Camelot's next ruler is a sorceress."

"Hey, to be fair, you're illegitimate."

"Yeah, true. Not allowed to inherit…"

I'm the eldest. I should be the one who's next in line…

But no. Because Eris is the daughter of Father and Queen Guinevere, she gets to inherit.

"I'd rather be illegitimate than the daughter of my mother," Eris commented, annoyed. "Hate her."

"We all do. But we have to deal with her and Lancelot."

"Hmph."

Mordred headed into the castle and walked down to his mother's chambers. There, she was busily working on some kind of bracelet alongside Merlin. He let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto the small cot in the corner. Morgan whirled around to face her son.

"What happened now?"

"I'm a failure as a knight. I can't even stand against Princess Alexandra."

"Considering her parentage, I'm not surprised," Merlin spoke up, hands on her hips. "Your father might be King Arthur, but he's not as powerful as Meliodas or Elizabeth."

"I know… I just wish I could do something besides being known as Arthur's greatest mistake…"

"He doesn't see you that way," Morgan assured him, resting a hand on his head.

"He doesn't?"

"No. He loves you every bit as much as Eris. Believe me."

Mordred felt a bit better, but somewhere in the back of his mind, jealousy towards his sister raged. It was deep down and dangerous.

But it was only a tiny bit.

Mordred opened his eyes as the memory faded. Not for the first time, guilt flooded his mind. He'd killed his father. He'd betrayed his kingdom and his family. He'd shattered so many lives and why? So he could be king? It didn't seem like it had been worth it at all. There was no kingdom for him to rule. His 'subjects' were either mindless followers or simply modified by demons' blood. Even now they were on their way to destroy the Sins and the Four Riders.

"Mordred!"

Thomas was running up. Behind him were troops who had gone to Blair Atholl for battle, at least what was left of them. The young king leapt to his feet in shock; how had so many been left behind?

"What happened?"

"The battle was going in our favor, sir," Thomas replied, kneeling despite an injury. "Then… Princess Alexandra entered the fray. I'd heard stories of her power, but I didn't think she could…"

"Alex did this?"

"Yes, sire. There was no mistaking it. When we were fleeing, Sir Meliodas was attempting to quell her."

He's probably the only one who could…

"What do you want us to do?"

"Heal yourselves. I will go to the battlefield and see the damage for myself."

"Yes, sire."

Thomas nodded and Mordred took a deep breath, focusing his magic and transporting himself to the battlefield.

What he saw shocked him to his core.

Bodies littered the ground, a mixture of wounded and dead soldiers. Some were barely alive. The worst injured and many of the dead had been sliced by a sword, a technique Mordred recognized as Alexandra's handiwork. Lying on the ground, still alive but just barely, was Nicolas. He was chuckling to himself. Mordred summoned one of his recovery spells to heal him quickly and Nicolas sat up with a cough, still laughing.

"Nicolas, what happened?"

"The princess happened." He smiled. "It was just like Lady Mercy told me—Alex is not a human. She's a demon. And demons must be destroyed."

"Help me save who we can."

Nicolas nodded. Mordred frowned; he knew that the deaths of Elizabeth, Meliodas, and Tristan had been by Nicolas's hand. It made him sick to his stomach to think of what all of the Riders must've gone through because of him. He had never wanted any of this. All he had wanted was to be given a fair chance despite being a bastard son.

There was a crunch beneath his foot and he looked to see a fairy's wing beneath it. Dead fairies were scattered about, fairies he recognized as being from his time and not the present. How had they…?

Ivy.

Ivy was their queen. Ivy was the only leader they had left and there was no way they would've… he felt like he was going to vomit.

This is all my fault. I don't care about being king anymore.

His eyes went to where several of his soldiers were reviving each other.

I can't leave. If I do, Mercy will have complete control and Britannia won't survive.

Mercy. No, this was all her fault. She'd been so desperate for his attention that she'd been willing to forsake the lives of so many others. The Sins, their families, the subjects of Camelot and Liones—none of it mattered to her. All that mattered to her was that she had his attention and his heart. Well, she didn't have the latter. That belonged to Ivy, it always had and she knew it. All he could do now was hope that she didn't realize what he was up to.

It was time to give up the crown for good.

I LIVED, BITCHES

Sorry I've been gone for a while. Blame The Dragon Prince and Rising of the Shield Hero for dragging me away. I'm glad to be back, though.

ALSO IF YOU HAVEN'T READ 'CONQUEST OF THE PAST' GO DO IT NOW I LOVE IT SO MUCH

So long and thanks for all the fish!