Grand Foreigner (Chapters 1- 200)

Chapter 124

Saber, Mordred Pendragon, was not the kind of fighter who honed their skills in the way most landed knights did. Not by dozens and hundreds of bouts of sparrings with their squires or other man-at-arms and not by the strict guidance of wise teachers, but in fierce battles to the death and the sharp glitter of bare steel. Therefore, Mordred's fighting style, although it still possessed a fairly solid foundation in the classical forms of fencing, in its totality it was more like the raging of a wild beast. A cornered, starving beast striving with all its might to bite onto its opponent with its open, blood-hungry maw. The fact that the 'teeth' of this beast were the legendary blade in Mordred's hands made it all the more terrifying.

Mordred gave herself into the bloodlust of battle, attacking anything that stood in her way with unreasonable ferocity and hatred. In most of her battles, she was but one step away from giving in to the absolute madness of a battle, remaining primarily a Saber rather than a Berserker. However, there were conditions and actions that could infuriate Mordred fully, causing her to forget about all her fencing lessons, other unimportant things like common sense and fall into a real bloody rage.

And, as befits the character of Mordred, the list of these things was very large and could more easily be listed out as 'everything that Mordred didn't like at least a little'. But, in the very large list of things that could piss Mordred off, three things existed that would really push her buttons. These things were; Mordred's gender, gainsaying her father, and questioning her familial relation with her father.

And therefore, any person who could so easily and purposefully combine all three things that enraged Mordred most of all, in a single innocent sentence even, would be a real genius. A machiavellian genius, capable of manipulating Mordred's actions like a puppet by taking full advantage of her personality.

However, her opponent, Berserker, did it completely by accident. All because he was not smart enough to understand that it was not worth doing or even a thing that had to be avoided at all cost. Too bad Berserker didn't possess the Charisma to unlodge the foot he had just put into his own mouth.

Therefore, with Mordred blinded by rage, even the smallest hint of a peaceful resolution of the conflict was completely destroyed. Right now, the best thing Berserker could do, was use everything in his power to simply not die.

The blade in Mordred's hands blazed with such speed and ferocity that the crimson lightning wreathing her blade blurred into a single vortex as Mordred swung her blade again and again, forcing Berserker to desperately block with no chance to counterattack. Gradually, Berserker is being overwhelmed by Mordred's relentless attack.

Although their levels of Strength were incomparable, Mordred's attacks gradually, without losing their primitive fury, became more and more accurate. Berserker, most of the time, didn't even have the time to block the attacks with his ax nevermind the opportunity to use his prodigious Strength against Mordred. And even when he managed to dodge Mordred's blade, she would attack with her other extremities. With fists, kicks, elbows and knees, a relentless wave of attacks crashed into Berserker's body.

Mordred struck with unerring accuracy, each of her attacks aimed impeccably to break through Berserker's defences. With a fluid grace, each of Berserker's openings were exploited to the fullest. As if prescient, Mordred knew exactly where she needed to strike. As if she was a hunting hound smelling blood, Mordred is doing her best in eviscerating her enemy.

Swing followed swings, where Mordred's blade was stopped by Berserker's golden ax, a punch would follow unerringly. As Berserker desperately avoided being cut in twain, Mordred would spontaneously let go of her blade when it was blocked, strike a heavy blow with her clenched gauntleted fist, then retreat, recovering her blade in the process.