Camelot's rise in Marvel

"Excalibur Vivian!" I roared loudly, my right hand glowing in bright golden light as my Nobel Phantasm appeared, and instantly I fired a beam of water at my target.

Mordred instantly went on guard at my words, jumping back, his mana roaring like a dragon, red lightning crackling around her naked wet body as she stood on the water.

Yet, my target wasn't Mordred, but someone else instead, who sighed loudly at my attack.

"Ahhh, honestly, that wasn't what I had expected at all." Came a voice, belonging to neither Mordred nor myself.

Mordred, quickly understanding that this wasn't me suddenly attacking her and realizing that there was an intruder, quickly turned to face them.

There, by the door stood a now soaked woman, her yellow monk robes hanging heavily on her body, and only the fact that she was bald spared her from having a head full of wet hair. 

Mordred's stance shifted immediately, her crimson mana sparking around her as she leveled a sharp glare at the intruder. "Who the hell are you, and how did you get in here?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

I didn't rise from the bath, nor did I attempt to attack again, or summon a more powerful weapon. I had no doubt my Lance would do better, but even my first attack had been little more than a warning.

Because I knew that woman, or didn't know her personally, but I knew who she was.

My gaze fixed on the intruder, I allowed Excalibur Vivian to fade, the golden glow dissipating as the bath returned to calm. "You are far from where you should be, Ancient One," I said, my voice steady but laced with caution. "Your presence here is unexpected."

The soaked woman straightened, her hands clasped calmly before her. Despite the dripping water, her serene demeanor remained intact.

"Unexpected, perhaps," she replied, her voice a harmonious blend of wisdom and curiosity. "But not unwarranted. Camelot's reappearance has caused ripples far beyond its walls. Ripples that demand my attention."

She might act calm, but I with my divine eyes could see the truth, she was shocked, both by the fact that I knew her, and the fact that my attack had breached her defence.

It wasn't fully able to overcome it, I had planned to humble her a little more, but she had been able to reduce the power of my attack to nothing, but unable to dispel the water itself.

After all, while it might look like a watergun, it was a special form of Excalibur, blessed by lady Vivian herself, the water was hardly normal.

Mordred's crimson mana crackled intensely as she looked between us, her eyes narrowing. "Do you know her, Father? Because I definitely don't, and she seems like someone who should be kicked out."

I raised a hand, signaling Mordred to pause. "She's a witch, somewhat like both Merlin and your mother, but I doubt she's here for a fight, even if she does look ready to take advantage of our bathing.

The Ancient One raised an eyebrow at my remark, her expression steady, though I noticed a slight twitch in her lips that suggested either amusement or mild annoyance. "I prefer the term sorcerer, but I suppose witch isn't too far from your perspective."

Mordred scoffed, her crimson energy still simmering. "Sorcerer, witch, whatever you call yourself, you're trespassing in Camelot. And Father's being a lot nicer than I would be."

The Ancient One locked her gaze on Mordred, her calm demeanor unshaken by the tension. "I assure you, I'm not here to offend. The return of Camelot has caused ripples everywhere. I came to observe, not to provoke."

I leaned back against the edge of the bath, my divine gaze still locked on her. "Observe, huh? That's a convenient way to describe barging in and listening in on a private moment."

Her serene expression faltered briefly, quickly veiled again. "You misinterpret me, King Arthur. I serve as a guardian of balance, and Camelot's return—your return—has altered that balance in unpredictable ways. My intention is to observe and, if needed, assist."

Mordred tensed, her grip on the edge of the bath tightening. "So, are you implying Camelot is a problem?"

"Not a problem," the Ancient One clarified, her voice steady. "A nexus. Its reappearance acts as a beacon attracting attention—from both benign and malevolent forces. My concern lies with the latter."

I tilted my head slightly, unwavering. "And do you think I can't handle such threats?"

"Some threats cannot be managed through sheer power alone." The heavy tone of her voice carried a deep burden and a harsh truth.

Mordred calmed a bit, still upset, but the surge of mana subsided, and she settled back in the water. "Ugh, you remind me of Merlin… Father, I take back what I said about him; I don't miss him at all."

I couldn't help but laugh at that; it was indeed a very Mordred thing to say.

The Ancient One's lips turned up slightly at Mordred's remark, but her gaze remained fixed on me. "Merlin, as I understand, was skilled in misdirection and riddles. I, however, favor clarity, though it often brings its own challenges." 

I nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact. "Challenges aside, your message is clear, Sorcerer Supreme. However, let me make one thing clear in response: Camelot will safeguard itself and its people. Whatever forces you think are rising, we will confront them on our terms, not yours." 

The Ancient One nodded her head, acknowledging but not necessarily agreeing. "I'd expect no less from the King of Knights. My sole purpose is to equip you with the tools and knowledge needed for what lies ahead." 

Mordred's sharp laughter broke the tension. "Tools? What tools? Are you going to hand us a magic wand or what?" She splashed water dramatically, reclining with defiance. 

The Ancient One's smile broadened, a hint of amusement emerging from her calm demeanor. "No, young knight. The tools I provide are more abstract yet equally precious. Knowledge, perspective... perhaps even a warning." 

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite my skepticism. "And what precisely is this warning?" 

For the first time, she hesitated, her gaze fleetingly shifting toward the ornate stonework of the bathhouse. "Be aware of the ties that connect you to this world, Arthur Pendragon. Your return has triggered events, not all of which will be favorable. Alliances, betrayals, and decisions that are yet to come—they will influence the future of more than just Camelot." 

Her enigmatic words lingered in the air, their significance undeniable. I scrutinized her closely, searching for any sign of deceit, yet her expression remained unchanged. 

"And if I decide not to heed your warning?" I asked, my voice intentionally quiet and measured. 

"Then you will continue along your own path, as you have always done," she stated plainly. "But keep in mind, King Arthur, even the brightest stars cast shadows." 

Mordred, unimpressed by the dramatics, waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, we get it, ominous warnings and all. If you're not going to give us specifics, you're just wasting our time." 

The Ancient One chuckled softly, her composure intact. "Specificity, young knight, is a privilege I can't afford. The threads of fate are constantly shifting. What I offer is not certitude, but a glimpse of what might happen." 

I exhaled slowly, feeling the burden of her words envelop me like an unseen cloak. "Very well," I finally responded. "You've conveyed your message. Now depart from Camelot. Observe if you wish, but do not interfere unless summoned." 

The Ancient One bowed slightly, her movements fluid and elegant. "As you command, King Arthur. May your light lead this realm through the impending storms."

With a subtle flick of her wrist, a golden energy portal materialized behind her. She stepped through in silence, vanishing as swiftly as she had appeared.

Mordred huffed, crossing her arms as she glared at the now-vacant doorway. "Well, that was dramatic. I can't wait for the next uninvited cryptic visitor."

"Hopefully, we won't encounter more, but you're right; she reminds me of Merlin, warning us of dangers without giving any explanations. It's such an irritating trait," I couldn't help but sigh.

The second Marvel character to appear before me, and all she did was ramble some vague nonsense and leave.

Yet, I didn't blame her; she hadn't planned to reveal herself, merely wanting to observe. However, my attack compelled her to act as if she had come to converse rather than spy, leading her to weave a hasty narrative of ambiguous warnings and half-truths.

Mordred rolled her eyes, her crimson mana flickering for a moment as her annoyance faded. "Yeah, well, if they're all like that, I might start tossing them out myself next time. Honestly, if you're going to alert someone, at least have the courtesy to provide useful details."

I couldn't help but chuckle, though it had a sharp edge to it. "That's Merlin's legacy, for you. Always showing just enough to create unease but never enough to truly prepare us."

Mordred flopped back against the edge of the bath with an exaggerated groan. "So, what now, Father? Do we just sit here waiting for the next 'nexus' or 'ripple' to knock on our gates?"

I shook my head. "No, we ignore her, stick to our plans, and when trouble arrives, I'm sure you and the others will manage it. After all, you are the Knight who dealt a mortal blow to the King of Knights himself!" I teased slightly, not wanting things to get too serious.

Mordred's expression twisted into a mix of pride and irritation, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Tch, you just had to bring that up, didn't you?" she muttered, crossing her arms. "It's not exactly my proudest moment."

I smirked, leaning back against the smooth edge of the bath. "Perhaps not, but it's still a testament to your strength. Not many can say they've bested me, even in such... complicated circumstances."

She huffed, her crimson mana flickering softly in the steamy air. "Yeah, well, don't think I'll let it inflate my ego or anything. You're still the King of Knights, Father, even if you're sitting there trying to cheer me up with your 'humor.'"

"Good," I replied, my voice softening. "Now, let's unwind while the water is warm. Who knows how long it will be before someone else arrives? I'd prefer not to greet any more guests, invited or not, without being clean." 

Mordred snorted, leaning back in the water, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, we definitely wouldn't want Father to greet more intruders smelling like a battlefield. That's not exactly how a regal figure should present themselves, is it?" 

I chuckled lightly, genuinely amused. "Regal or not, it's about more than just appearances. A clear mind is easier to achieve when the body feels refreshed." 

She tilted her head back, allowing the steam to envelop her face. "I can't really argue with that. Not that I'd admit it, but this is way better than sharpening swords all day." 

"Balance is crucial," I stated, closing my eyes and sinking a bit deeper into the bath. "Even for a warrior. If all you do is prepare for battle, you'll wear yourself out before the real fight begins." 

Mordred's tone softened slightly, a rare moment of reflection evident. "You always come out with those knightly bits of wisdom, don't you? Maybe one day I'll learn from them." 

I opened one eye and smiled faintly. "You're already further along than you realize, Mordred. Just... try not to let your enthusiasm lead you into trouble. Again." 

She rolled her eyes and splashed water in my direction. "Alright, alright. I get it. No more charging in headfirst without thinking. You won't ever let that go, will you?" 

"Not while I still have breath," I teased, casually deflecting her splash with a lazy wave of my hand. 

The day ended like this, but I knew the ancient one would return. She was startled this time, but she wouldn't let a divine being wander around freely.

 (the end of another chapter)

So it wasn't Merlin, but someone who still fits the bill, coming to spy on two bathing beauties, what else has she been up to in her long life? She could be watching me writing this right now... or watching you reading it!

still, I hoped you all didn't dislike this bit of bonding. I know I really didn't give them much time reaching here. but I feel that Arthuria really have forgiven Mordred, and Mordred... well she too would move on quickly, bit of an air head that one.