Chapter 315: Camlan Battle

When did Mo De Lei De learn of his world‑shaking lineage?

It dates back a few years, when he led his troops on an external campaign and had a fateful encounter.

At the edge of a moon‑lit forest, he met the woman—Morgan, who claimed to be his mother.

What the mother and son discussed that night remains unknown.

All that is known is that after that night, a seed called "Ambition" and "Resentment" was deeply planted in Mo De Lei De's heart and began to grow wildly.

A bold, rebellious, even maddening plan began to take shape in his mind.

He does not fear Gao Wen, even though Gao Wen possesses sun‑like bravery.

Yet deep inside, he always harbors an indelible awe for Arthur King.

He grew up listening to the legendary tales of Arthur King, a name that signifies supreme glory, great power, and unshakable sovereignty.

Especially, Arthur King was taught by a teacher who seemed godlike.

Rationally, he knows that confronting that monarch, his chance of failure far exceeds success.

Nevertheless, he is unwilling to accept it.

He will gamble!

He wagers everything to seize the faint hope of even a sliver of success!

"Arthur King… he is already old," Mo De Lei De often tells himself, trying to dispel the shadows in his heart.

Time's chisel has left merciless marks on the monarch, and even the Sword Sheath that rendered him nearly immortal has been lost.

And Mo De Lei De, in his prime, full of vigor, brimming with ambition, wielding military command, may not… be unchallengeable!

Thus, while anxiously preparing and spreading rumors of Arthur King's death, Mo De Lei De also actively mobilizes all armies under his control, fortifies the city defenses, and readies to meet the return of the "dead" king.

All of Camelot mourns outwardly, yet behind the scenes tension mounts like drawn swords and a storm about to break.

……

Ten days later.

On the horizon, a dust‑laden army appeared, along with the Red Dragon King banner that, though stained with battlefield dust, still fluttered with a fierce rustle.

Arthur King has returned.

He did not die. He returns, bearing the fatigue of the expedition to France, and the rage and heartbreak of being betrayed by his most trusted.

He reins his warhorse, looks up toward the familiar Royal Capital, his gaze piercing the distance, locking onto the figure on the city wall—a black‑armored, proudly standing Mo De Lei De.

That was the protégé he once favored most, into whom he poured countless effort, deeming him the future successor of the Round Table Knight Order.

Now, as a rebel, he stands opposite him.

There is no hysterical interrogation, no anguished rebuke.

Between them lies only a long, suppressed silence and a gaze that crosses the battlefield, complex beyond words.

In Arthur's eyes are sorrow, disappointment, and a barely perceptible… fatigue.

In Mo De Lei De's eyes are resolve, ambition, and a suppressed tension perhaps even he himself has not noticed.

Finally, it is Arthur King who breaks the suffocating silence; his voice is steady, yet reaches the front lines:

"We need to negotiate."

He still wishes to avoid this fratricidal bloodshed.

Mo De Lei De on the city wall nods slightly, his voice equally clear as it echoes down:

"I accept the negotiation."

A negotiation that will decide the kingdom's fate unfolds on a cleared ground before the two armies, under the watch of both forces.

Arthur King and Mo De Lei De, once ruler and minister, an invisible father and son, now separated by the negotiation table, conduct their final talks.

The atmosphere is as heavy as the sea before a storm.

Yet the gears of fate seem already set to slide toward tragedy.

Just as the negotiation reaches its critical point, an anomaly erupts!

A venomous snake, its origin unknown, silently slithers into the negotiation site!

Perhaps disturbed by the army's commotion, perhaps pure coincidence, it suddenly lifts its head and launches a swift attack at the nearest Knight.

"Watch out! Snake!!"

A startled shout erupts, breaking the stalemate of the negotiation!

The shout, like a spark thrown into a powder magazine,

"Ambush!!"

"We're trapped!!"

Uninformed soldiers instantly stir, tension and suspicion ignited to the extreme in an instant!

"Clang—!"

Someone draws a sword first, its bright flash stinging everyone's eyes.

The final strand of trust shatters completely!

The fragile peace on the negotiation table shatters with a thunderous, source‑unverified weapon draw.

The next moment, long‑suppressed shouts and killing cries erupt like a volcanic blast! Angry roars, clashing weapons, dying wails… instantly replace all speech!

The blood‑soaked civil war destined for the annals, rife with tragedy and betrayal—Camlan Battle—tragically unfolds in this mishap, perhaps pre‑ordained, as its brutal opening.