After several treks, Mordred finally arrived at the location of the Fire Island. Since the last Iron Dragon Raid incident, the flames that erupted on the Fire Island have gradually cooled down and extinguished over time, but the scorched rocks and thick volcanic ash on the island can still make people feel the dragon's rage.

Mordred had a gas mask on his face to resist the inhalation of harmful dust, and went step by step towards the direction marked by Lancelot. No one in the academy found him leaving alone. Everyone was paying attention to the duel, which gave him the opportunity to come here secretly.

At this moment, the location where the Black Sword was located was covered with lamellar magma rock and volcanic ash. The thick layer was extremely hard. Mordred had to take out the geological shovel that had been prepared in his backpack and start digging here. The geological shovel specially made by the academy was indeed solid and durable. The hard rock surface was quickly broken, revealing the internal structure.

Mordred continued to clear the ash and dig deeper into the strata. He faintly felt a force beating under the crust, as if a will was pulling Mordred to continue excavation, with some indescribable temptation. Mordred felt that his body seemed to be under an electric shock, his muscles were tense, and he was no longer driven by his will. He just used a geological shovel to mechanically knock on the rocks, echoing the power buried deep, silently calling.

He felt that he was getting closer and closer to the location of the Black Sword...

Only a "click" sound was heard, and the geological hollow shell formed by the volcanic eruption broke. Mordred felt the sound of the geological shovel hitting the rock surface changed. The last layer of rock covered by the black sword was broken, and the entire image of the black sword was revealed in the wound-like cracks.

It was a pure black sword, twisted into the sword body by two twisted vine-like metals. The patterns carved on the sword were indescribable, as if marine creatures were covered with barnacles, and a mysterious attraction was about to emerge, as if releasing some kind of frequency waves outwards, which could make people's spirits fall into intoxication and madness.

In an instant, Mordred couldn't help but throw away the geological shovel in his hand and hugged his head tightly with both hands. His expression was twisted, his eyes were slightly raised, as if he had suffered a huge pain, and as if he was inexplicably ecstasy. Mordred seemed to be in a dream, and he couldn't believe that the powerful force in his dream was just between his feet and within reach.

At this time, two contradictory thoughts appeared in his mind at the same time. On the one hand, it was an extremely longing for this power, and on the other hand, it was a fear that it was difficult to suppress and ignore. He stretched out his hand several times to hold the hilt of the black sword, but at the last moment, he shrank his hand back due to the instinctive fear in his heart.

Mordred could hear his heart beating like a drumstick, and he almost jumped out of his chest. He took a deep breath and calmed his spirit a little. What flashed in his eyes were the afterimages of things that happened in the past. Countless afterimages flashed frequently, and finally frozen on a figure, which was Arthur!

"Arthur..." Mordred, who was deeply trapped in past memories, squeezed out the name from his teeth. He and Arthur grew up together, and in order to catch up with Arthur's back, he made all the efforts he could do. However, there seemed to be an insurmountable gap between Arthur's strength and him, just because Arthur was born into a celestial being and he was born into a vassal.

Thinking of this, Mordred couldn't help but sneer, he mocked the unfair fate. Could it be that the descendants of the celestial beings and nobles always be superior, and the children of the vassal are only worthy of being vassals for generations? Are they only worthy of being a character who is used to block the knife and die in a difficult situation?

Mordred's heart was filled with endless sorrow and anger. He was unwilling to accept such an arrangement. He not only wanted to surpass Arthur, but also surpass all the powerful people in the world who were out of reach. He wanted everyone to see that his destiny must be in his own hands!

As Lancelot said, the world will be in chaos, and the next beast tide will soon sweep the world. If he still maintains his current state, he will not be able to do anything at all, and it will be difficult to survive. At that time, he will only be drowned in the dust of history like cannon fodder. He has no one to rely on except himself. As a child of the attendant family, his mission is to sacrifice for the main family when the main family is in danger and sacrifice his humble life.

Mordred still remembers the scene when he was young, when the beast tide came. Countless beast soldiers came to the city and surrounded the old city lord and his grandfather in a bunker. In order to protect the safety of the old city lord, his grandfather gave his life. When the beast tide retreated, all the people in the city shouted excitedly for the glory of the old city lord and held a carnival overnight, but no one remembered the person who sacrificed his life for the old city lord.

A few days later, the candidate for the new chief of guards was also finalized by the adults on the lord tower. So who took over this glorious position again - that is Mordred's father, Akar Mordred. At that moment, Mordred recognized the world.

Thinking of this, Mordred no longer hesitated. He grabbed his other hand with one hand, which was constantly trembling, and pressed the palm of the hand on the black sword. The palm quickly fitted perfectly with the spiral hilt of the black sword. A dark and deep touch spread throughout his body from Mordred's palm. Mordred's eyes turned black, and everything seemed to fall into the void in an instant. He could gradually hear the low and slight hidden words in the depths of the void.

Mordred felt dizzy and blurred before his eyes. When his vision became clearer again, he was already in the void.

The endless darkness pressed towards him like a pound of coffin lid, and the sound of bubbles sing in his ears, and tiny bubbles pulled into extremely straight lines, passing in the direction above Mordred's head. The entire sea was like an ancient sarcophagus, covering up all the truth and light.

Mordred's ears could no longer hear the sound. His lungs seemed to be about to be squeezed out of his chest by the huge pressure from the seabed, and his brain almost lost the ability to think. At this moment, he tasted the same taste as those ugly creatures hiding at the bottom of the deep sea to survive. It was a kind of malice and curse from the will of the sea. As long as he survived for a moment, he would have to endure endless pain and pressure, forever.

Mordred tried to remain rational and tortured with the violent will of the sea, but the boundless chill from the notochord had already embezzled his control of his will. Mordred completely felt his insignificance and fear for the first time. He would rather give up all the goals he had fought for at this moment and retract the life he hated in exchange for a comfortable breath. Even waving his tail and flattering Arthur was more tolerant than he felt now. However, he could not do it.

Mordred felt his overestimation of his willpower all along, and he tasted the consequences of his ignorance and foolishness. At this moment, he just wanted to kneel down to the supreme existence and pray to it for a moment of pleasure and comfort.

"Great Dagun! I have felt your endless power. I am willing to crawl humbly in front of you. Please show it in front of me as soon as possible!" Mordred used all his strength to shout in the void to express his surrender. He still remembered that Lancelot said that he could not call Crusul, but to call Dagun. Mordren should not call the real name of the God of Death directly, otherwise he would bear the consequences... But his voice was ruthlessly swallowed by the void, and Mordred had reached the limit of endurance.

Suddenly he felt his feet fall to the ground, and felt the endless force stop pulling. His legs and feet kneel on the ground uncontrollably, as sour and soft as a pool of mud. Mordred raised his head hopelessly from the bottom of the sea, and saw a huge eye slowly opening from the deep and deep part of the sea, illuminating the thick and turbid current of the seabed as thick as fog.

The silent and mysterious Lord of the deep sea had tentacles on his body, moving faintly in the deep sea, as if it stretched for thousands of miles. It was difficult to tell how vast his body was at the very low visibility.

"Thank you for the mercy of my lord!" Mordred's face was pale, and joy and fanaticism appeared on the paper. He knelt on the stone palace where he was standing, and bowed to the direction where the giant eyes opened, and prostrated himself with all his body.

Mordred dared not look up, and the Lord of Death played his flute. A long and ancient roar exploded from above Mordred's head. The tyrant hidden in the dark spoke, as if the mountains were shaking and the earth were surging, and the waves were surging, and the whole space was trembling. A divine thought, like a sharp spear for the judgment of death, pierced into Mordred's brain, and a deep and gloomy whisper in his mind.

"The mortal puppet of Lancelot is incomparable and useless! Now you offer your diligence and pass the trial, you can replace it. I will give you a feast and a hungry soul; I will give you a seal and ribbon, and you will practice the way on the earth, and the world will know that it is my reputation. When I come again, you will use my name and honor it together!"

Mordred felt a burning pain in his chest at this moment, as if he was imprinted on his flesh and blood. He tore open the clothes on his chest in pain. Countless disordered symbols swam on his chest like crazy sea snakes, and finally formed into complex black marks. The evil power penetrated directly into Mordred's heart through the skin and blood vessels.

He felt a power similar to salvation, surging in his body, making him reborn as if he was reborn. The power of the God of Death was as vast as the vast ocean where Mordred was, and what he gave him was the tip of the iceberg, but just this force was enough to make him happy.

When Mordred woke up from his intoxication with power, the great God of Death was gone. He returned to Fire Island from the abyss of the void, and the black sword in his hand was no longer heavy.
Chapter completed!