Reincarnated as a Son of the Sword Saint and the Sage

Staggered by his fatigue, Michael slowly stood from his spot as the Guildmaster finally arrived on the scene. He then walked unsteadily and drew himself closer to where Uriel was. 

Deep inside him, Michael was very grateful to him since he basically stopped Mordred from making his next move to terminate Michael's life. If it were not for Gilbert, Michael's body would have been cleaved from head to crotch by a giant sword. 

((This Mordred man is a true monster.))

((Seems like so.)) Uriel responded to Michael's telepathic message to her. ((He was on the other dimension.))

Just as mentioned, the strength of Mordred could not be compared to the lackeys he brought with him. Even though his level was around seven hundred, his true strength was more than his status board could provide. 

Michael had been fighting him at his fullest and was greatly enhanced by the Monarch of the Night by almost fifty percent; it was almost nine in the evening after all. But Mordred just fought his handicap, which made him dominate the fight all the time. 

((But he seems to be wary of the Guildmaster.)) 

((I noticed that too. Should we let them fight?)) 

((Should. My sword is broken anyway.))

"Guildmaster..." Michael pretended to be exhausted. "He is dangerous. Please be careful." 

"I know, young man." Gilbert assured. "You can get a rest now." 

"Thank you, sir." 

◆◇◆

Once Michael and Uriel had distanced themselves and sat on a spot a few dozens of meters away, Gilbert and Mordred were now facing and glaring at each other. Both of their faces were dead serious, and faint traces of bloodlust were emitting from them. 

"So that is what you have been doing all these years, huh? Who would have thought that you really are involved with a notorious underground organization?" 

"..." 

After a brief moment of silence, Gilbert spoke first and conveyed his honest thoughts. However, Mordred seemed unaffected by his words and let him talk further. 

"And it seems that you are still with that harlot." Turning his attention to Sabrina, Gilbert uttered. "All things were ruined ever since that woman came." 

"It is because she was the only one who could understand me." 

When the conversation touched on the topic of Sabrina, Mordred finally opened his mouth to defend her. Mordred moved his left hand and gestured to Sabrina, who was behind him, to step out of the scene, which she did.

"I see. If that is what you want," Gilbert said, then brandished his fifty-five-inch orichalcum claymore toward Mordred. "I have to stop you, right here, right now." 

"Let's do it, Gilbert!" 

Whoosh! 

In an instant, both of them dashed toward each other at a frightening speed and collided with one another's blades. Gilbert intended to slash Mordred, but his sword was caught by one of the Zweihänder's parrying hooks.

Clink! 

A sharp screeching sound of two metals colliding resonated throughout the hallway as the golden swords met. The crossover of their blades generated a powerful shockwave that billowed the hairs of Michael, Uriel, and Sabrina. 

After their initial engagement, Gilbert and Mordred maintained their blades to form an X for a while. Being up close, they had a better opportunity to exchange swords. I think you should take a look at

"I notice that I am a bit stronger than you." Mordred put a smug look on his face. "Are you neglecting your training after you retire and are busy holding a pen? Ha ha!" 

"It is not in your business. What is more important is that what I am doing is right and good for the people. At least I did not succumb myself to the darkness and do wrong deeds to step over the others." 

"It is not in your business, either!" 

Mordred then launched a powerful kick at Gilbert's left torso. Gilbert immediately blocked Mordred's steel-like lower leg with his left arm. 

But due to their slight stat differences, Gilbert lost his balance and was thrown away. He did a barrel roll on the floor, but he quickly got up and raised his sword horizontally to block an incoming overhead slash of a giant sword. 

Ching! 

Gilbert mightily swung his sword to forcefully fend off Mordred before lunging himself forward with his sword thrust. Mordred quickly parried it as soon as it reached his range and let Gilbert pass him. 

Mordred seized that moment and swiftly swung his blade horizontally. But his sword only cut nothing but air as Gilbert instinctively ducked to avoid a certain decapitation. 

Using the momentum, Gilbert spun around and revolved his sword to cut some limbs. As responsively as he could, Mordred jumped and successfully prevented his legs from amputation. 

"Earth Splitter!" 

In the process, Mordred used his falling force to strike an overhead blow on Gilbert. Using a Level 9 Sword Art technique, Mordred slashed his heavy blade and aimed its heavenly momentum upon the Guildmaster. 

"Bastion of Glory!" 

Holding his sword overhead, Gilbert placed the end blade of his sword on his left palm and activated a powerful technique called Bastion of Glory. It was a Level 10 Martial Art technique that could block non-ultra techniques and spells for a second. 

Boom! 

The tremendous collision of their blades caused the area to shake by a few magnitudes and even created a small crater under Gilbert's feet. The impact of their moves generated a much more powerful shockwave than before. 

After a few seconds of stalemate, Mordred raised his blade and swung it horizontally with the intention of slashing his opponent's chest and executing his next attack. Gilbert quickly jumped back to avoid the blade, which distanced himself from Mordred. But that was a perfect distance for Mordred. 

"Thousand Slice!" 

"Thousand Slice!" 

Gilbert instantly grasped the movements of Mordred and tried to counter his move with the same technique. At the very same time, both Gilbert and Mordred slashed their own weapons a thousand times at a speed almost nobody else could catch. 

Ching! Ching! Ching! Ching! 

For a very short time, a thousand brief embers lit up the area, accompanied by a clink for each spark. Golden blurs of their lustrous golden blades colored the space between the two veteran swordsmen as the storm of blades occurred. 

Pant. Pant. Pant. 

Once they finished their moves, which did not land on their opponent, Gilbert and Mordred stared at one another to catch their breaths for a moment. Once one of them recovered, Mordred took a certain stance and told Gilbert with a confident smile. 

"It seems that no one's going to win without giving out our best. Let's settle this with the next and final strike, Gilbert." 

"Fine with me." Gilbert replied, and then took the same stance as him. "Let us see whose blade is more refined."