Chapter 23: That Damned Duel
Riya's eyes twitched open, only to shut again with an annoyed grunt.
They're at it again...
Muffled moaning and rhythmic noises seeped through the walls.
The unmistakable sound of Sieg and Astolfo's daily "ritual" echoed like an alarm clock from hell.
But not today.
Muttering to himself, Riya focused and began using a bit of magecract that he learned for one purpose.
A translucent field shimmered briefly into existence, cloaking the couple's room in a soundproof barrier.
"Finally," he sighed, falling back onto the bed with a peaceful grin. "Silence is golden."
When Riya fell asleep, he took notice that Before him stood a lone figure—a knight, clad in crimson-trimmed armor.
Her posture was rigid, sword planted into the ground like a flag. Her helmet concealed her face, unmoving.
"Who are you?" Riya asked.
The helmet hissed open, Iron Man-style, revealing a face framed in golden blonde hair, striking green eyes, and a mischievous grin that screamed trouble.
"Mordred," she declared. "Knight of Treachery.
Son of King Arthur.
And no, I don't do your weird 'connection' thing, so don't even try."
She grunted and crossed her arms. "If you want anything from me, you're gonna have to beat me to earn it."
Riya groaned. A challenge? Really?
Up to now, his victories were barely worth bragging about.
Injured Astolfo, passive Shakespeare—they were barely warm-ups.
But Mordred? Saber-class, with that sword Clarent?
He was screwed.
But giving up? Not an option.
With a deep breath, Riya reached into his inner connection to Jeanne.
As a Ruler, her powers stood above the seven traditional classes—his best bet against a Saber.
Their blades clashed.
Clarent met the banner-sword of Jeanne in a dance of sparks and fury.
Riya fought hard, but Mordred's experience as a knight showed in every swing.
He was powerful, but he wasn't her.
Riya needed something more.
He switched to Fran—channeling her combat form and summoning her Bridal Blade.
Unlike her wide-range chest attack, this version was honed like a sword—perfect for one-on-one combat.
The tempo quickened.
Mordred used Mana Burst, turning each slash into a fiery quake.
Riya retaliated with Galvanism, his body flickering with lightning, blade surging with voltage.
But when Mordred started to channel out her "Clarent Blood Arthur", Riya's heart sank.
A+ Noble Phantasm. If it landed, he was done.
He didn't hesitate. This was it.
Riya switched again but this time to Merlin.
He used Merlin's Noble Phantasm: Hope of Avalon.
The battlefield morphed, becoming the mythical realm of Avalon—buffing his every move, skill, and weapon.
His next and final switch: Atalanta.
He drew her bow.
"Phoebus Catastrophe."
An emerald storm of divine arrows, each guided by Apollo and Artemis, surged into a singular, catastrophic beam.
While Mordred unleashed her noble phantasm "Clarent Blood Arthur!"
Clarent and the Bow of Heaven clashed, the world splitting into light and chaos.
The victor of the clash was Riya.
And then—silence.
The smoke cleared. Mordred stood, armor shattered, her form barely clothed beneath.
Riya lifted his bow again, but Mordred didn't raise her sword.
Instead, she laughed and slumped to the ground.
"Alright, alright. You win."
Riya, barely standing, used Hope of Avalon one more time to heal her and him beffore falling too.
Light wrapped around them, sealing wounds and mending flesh.
She stepped toward him, grinning wildly.
"So..." she said, eyes gleaming. "How does this 'connection' thing work?"
Riya's brain crashed.
Wait—was she a virgin? He blinked. Of course she was.
She'd lived and died as a "son," never truly embracing her femininity.
It meant Riya would have to take the lead.
"Sigh what a drag"
Their lips met slowly, cautiously, then with more confidence.
He took his time—this wasn't just a prize.
This was trust, earned the hard way. Each kiss, each touch, meant something more.
And then—they "connected"
Riya woke up.
Peaceful silence. A warm bed. A sleepy goofy smile on his face.
Until—
Peck.
A bird sat on his chest with a note in its beak.
"Seriously?" he muttered, groaning. "It's barely morning.
Can't I enjoy this just a bit longer?"
With a sigh, he snatched the letter from the bird.
Reality was back—and it was already knocking.
-----------------------------------------------------------
RIYA RIOT STATS:
Mordred:
Skills:
Magic Resistance:(B)
Riding:(B)
Instinct:(B)
Mana Burst:(A)
Battle Continuation:(B)
Charisma:(C-)
Noble Phantasms:
Clarent:(C)
Clarent Blood Arthur:(A+)
Secret of Pedigree:(C)
Prydwen:(A)
-----------------------------------------------------------