It had been two weeks since Igraine had run out of the meeting.
Igraine of course sent a letter explaining her behavior and confirming how Modred had returned.
it being decided it would be best if Igraine stayed behind to watch over Mordred, with Uther staying behind to continue the good fight against the oblige faction.
And now the oblige faction had been fought back and had been silenced for now.
Uther was now finally able to see the fully recovered Mordred, without putting the kingdom's safety in risk.
He didn't take a carriage or a horse he didn't need one, he just took off in the direction of home when he confirmed that he was no longer needed.
And off he went, like a charging bull thundering ever forward with his body alone.
As Uther dodged and avoided any and all obstacles, he couldn't help himself to think about the glorious past.
…
Mordred was born strong, when Uther first held him and how the babe in his arms clenched his finger.
"He'll be greater than both of us."
Uther said smiling as he held Mordred, Igraine laughed at that.
They had been waiting for this for so long Uther would never forget her smile.
The warmth of that moment would always be with him.
But the babe in Uther's arms didn't stay small for long, after no time the boy was ten and ready to start his training.
Mordred's first time holding a sword, how the boy would do anything for only a few more minutes of training.
Uther was told what to expect from training a child, especially one sired by him.
But the things he was warned about never came to pass, Mordred even at ten years old had the patience and understanding that would have made members of the royal guard jealous.
Each lesson actually learned, every established rule actually followed, and every oath made kept.
And of course the most painful day of Uther's life as a warrior, when his eleven year old son told him of his apathy of the sword.
Oh how that day crushed him, the fact his son could never love swords like Uther did.
Of course Igraine thought his pain was incredibly over exaggerated, but she held her tongue after Uther questioned how she would feel in Mordred to instead take soul interest with air magic.
But like all good fathers, Uther was able to look past it for his son.
So Uther did the best he could for his son to find his destined partner, but sadly for the both of them nothing felt right for Mordred.
Uther found the best teachers and instructors he could, but.
Spears, axes, daggers, bows, even barehanded, it did not matter because after a few months with the weapon Mordred would grow dissatisfied and look for something new.
this had gone for almost two years, finally after so much effort searching, Mordred had gone with the glaive.
And even then Uther knew that his son was settling, but he kept his opinion to himself, hoping that Mordred would find his destined partner in time.
…
The farming scythe, a tool that is used as a weapon by rebellious peasantry.
Not something found often in the hands of experienced warriors, but the documents on his son's progress with the weapon.
Made Uther incredibly excited to see what Mordred and his new found partner can do.
And with this excitement he ran his way home in only five hours, when it was twelve hours on horseback.
As Uther burst through the entrance of the manor, he ran into his beloved not soon after.
Igraine was sitting in the sun room painting for the first time in a while, but before Uther could express his joy about her returning to her hobby.
Igraine motioned to the corner of the room, sat next to the door that lead to the outside training yard was Uther's sword.
The Great Sword Excalibur, a mighty weapon whose double edged blade measured to six feet long.
Uther smiled with anticipation as he grabbed the over foot long hilt, Uther with Excalibur hung over his shoulder walked through the door to meet his opponent in this long awaited duel.
…
Mordred stood on the opposite side of the training area with scythe in hand.
Uther had trouble recognizing him, Mordred no longer slouching standing at his full height of eight seven.
Mordred was wearing black dress pants and a white sleeveless shirt that showed off his regained vitality.
Mordred had spent the three weeks that Uther was away to reach his body's new muscular peak, no longer the wraith that was nothing but skin and bones that escaped the Abadull armor.
Uther smiled as he removed his military uniform, Mordred took that as his que to take up his weapon for this duel.
A scythe created by Mordred himself out of the ruined scythe blades that were used to create his new fight style.
The scrap metal forged scythe matched its creator's mighty size, with an eight foot shaft and a three foot long blade.
Since Uther had entered the training grounds, Mordred had been smiling.
While Uther has been waiting for this duel for almost twenty years, Mordred had been waiting for this duel for his entire life.
So as Uther carefully left his uniform inside the sun room, he readied Excalibur as Mordred got into his position, and finally the duel started
…
It started with dueling etiquette, both fighters met in the middle of the arena and shook hands.
Then they both took five steps back, while the two kept facing each other.
A timed spell a small flame floated between them, set up by Mordred acting as the starting motion.
The waiting for the small flare spell to go off and signal the beginning of the fight, made the few seconds waiting feel agonizingly long for the two of them.
But when it finally went off starting the fight, the two bolted at each other with superhuman speed.
Mordred was the one who got the first attack, with him yelling out his attack names like any good Collins.
"Strong Harvest!"
The giant roared as he swung with all his might.
Of course Uther dodged the attack only for his head student counter attack.
"Reaper's Dozen!"
Mordred's scythe blurred in motion as Uther had to block twelve seemingly simultaneous slashes.
"Lets see obviously an attack that shares the principles of the phantom blade."
An attack that used one's speed to make one slash worth three.
Mordred laughed as he continued his assault, then explained his last named move.
"You see, I combined the Phantom blade of our family's battle art with the Axe of Ruin's Fourfold cut."
Uther smiled as he then went on the offensive, taking Excalibur with two hands.
Yet even as he did, Uther could barely keep up with Mordred as the son continued his mad harvest.
And for the first time in this battle both weapons truly clashed, the scythe groaned under the battle's new pressure.
But both fighters failed to notice the scythe slowly weakening as they continued to trade blow after blow.
It was then that Mordred decided it was time to show off his currently strongest move.
Grim storm, a move that creates waves of compressed wind at the target.
But as Mordred pulled his scythe back, the poor thing could no longer hold together and shattered under its creator's grip.
The reaction from both fighters was the same, shock and annoyance.
Mordred haphazardly dropped the crumbling scythe and looked his father dead in the eyes.
"Ochello?"
Uther nodded.
"Ochello."
…
Highlanders, a species of giant known for their love of fighting and mighty strength.
These mighty people could be found all over the Harmong Mountain range, their respect and hospitality towards humans setting them apart from other giants like ogres and Trygonians.
Sadly the mighty Highlanders have long since passed due to the Kiadon plague that shook the entire continent of Bolavon five hundred years ago.
Thankfully unlike many species that have faced a similar fate like the harpy and the siren, the Highlanders live on through humans that possess Highlander blood.
With the most famous of those descendants being the Collins family, who can trace their Highlander lineage directly to the Highfather, the first King of Highlanders.
…
Ochello the greatest blacksmith of Soladarr and family friend to the Collins, so when it was obvious that not just any weapon could handle a battle between the two it had to go to him.
Of course neither of the two Collins even put a thought into what hour they would arrive at the old man's house.
It was at the crack of dawn, when they finally came to old man Ochello's home.
To which the old man tried to throw out Uther only to be met with the living Mordred.
"By the mountains!"
The squat elder grabbed and held the giant with a strength that could shatter steel.
"To think I would ever see you in the flesh again boy!"
Of course such noise awoke Ochello's family, his only daughter Maris, her husband, and their child Vincent.
Maris immediately recognized Mordred, who she had taken care of when he was a boy.
"Little dred!"
Mordred now found himself being hugged by two, with the combined force that could shatter diamond felt like nothing when compared to the feeling of joy and relief that radiated from the two.
Mordred smiled as he patiently answered their multitude of questions of what happened, where he was, and when he came back.
…
After five whole hours of answering questions, it was finally time for what Mordred and Uther had come for.
"A scythe?"
Ochello spoke as if he misheard, eyebrows raised as he stared gobsmacked at Mordred.
Mordred didn't flinch as he spoke simply and honestly.
"Yes."
Ochello suddenly became crest-fallen and quickly lost interest in the weapon they wished him to forge.
"You want me to make a farming tool?"
Mordred didn't backdown or falter with Ochello's obvious annoyance with the nature of his chosen weapon.
The mood quickly shifted as Ochello started to burst into laughter.
As the old man laughed like a madman, he got out of his chair and walked over to a corner of the room.
His laughter dying down as he grabbed a silver three foot long round bar, which Mordred recognized as mithril.
Maris sighed as she watched her father walk back, he had pulled this trick before when her father didn't want to waste his time on a creation that he saw as beneath him.
Ochello gracefully handed Mordred the bar, and then spoke in a tone completely unfamiliar to the two Collins.
"Bend that bar of mithril and not only will I forge you a scythe, I will use that as the blade!"
Ochello motioned to the eye catching four foot dragon fang, last piece of the horrid red dragon Droolo.
Droolo's blood was used to quench Excalibur while it was forged, now even three hundred years later the great sword has not lost its luster.
now that caught Mordred attention and almost immediately exerted all his strength onto the bar immediately snapping it.
Due to mithril's flexural strength it is impossible to bend with mortal hands, yet Ochello and Maris watched as Mordred snapped it like a dried branch.
Their faces immediately showed their shock, but Mordred didn't even notice as he looked at the mithril bar.
Mordred was always one to look at the glass half full, instead of thinking he was given an impossible task though this was a trial.
Him thinking that this being a lesson of skill over might, Mordred tried bending the round bar once more.
Slowly and patiently as the two blacksmiths looked on in horror, Mordred carefully tied the mithril bar into a knot.
And as Mordred carefully put the knot down on the table and smiled at yet another trial conquered.
Ochello, his eyes still locked on the impossible mithril knot slowly got out of his chair and motioned Maris to follow him.
Before leaving, Ochello coughed and motioned to mordred.
"Grab Droola's fang and follow us."