Mordred's arms, legs, and core burned the morning after the night of the tournament. A headache swam behind her eyes as she remembered the celebration after her triad of fights. Her body cried out as she rolled off her futon and staggered to her feet, making her way to the shower with a hammer pressing down on her head. Cold water blasted her face and wrenched her eyes open. She shivered as she stood in the frigid water and scrubbed the bruises on her arms, thighs, and abs. When she stepped out, she found her phone buzzing. The towel dropped as she answered the call.

"Hey, Ritsuka," Mordred greeted.

"Hi, Mordred," Ritsuka said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a car. What about you?"

Ritsuka let out a small chuckle. "I'm doing well. I was actually wondering if you were going to be at the gym today."

"Nah, I'm gonna take this day off," Mordred replied as she flopped onto her futon. "You can probably find a punching bag that moves better than me right now."

"That's fine; you've been working hard, anyway. I just wanted to call because I have some good news!"

Mordred grinned wide. "Lay it on me."

"I got a message from Grail Wars FC, and they want to sign you to a contract," Ritsuka said. Mordred's grin blossomed to a full smile as she threw up her phone and let out a cheerful shout. She caught it before it could land and brought the receiver back to her ear.

"Hot damn, you're the best manager I could have asked for!"

"Ah ha," Ritsuka giggled. "Thank you. There is one condition, though."

Mordred raised an eyebrow and sat up. "Oh yeah?"

"The reason they contacted me so soon is because they need a replacement fighter."

"Replacement?" Mordred repeated aghast. "Is it against someone worth it?"

"Well, the contract is for three fights. They'll only offer the contract if you take the first fight."

Mordred sighed. "Fine; who is it?"

"It's Medusa," Ritsuka answered.

The ink on Mordred's contract was barely dry when she came into the Chaldea gym and drew up a plan with Scathach, Boudica, and Lancer. Grail Wars hadn't even announced her signing by the time she took to the mats and sparred with her teammates and coaches. She fought the soreness in her muscles from the tournament, the last of which didn't fade until days after the final fight. Though she had the regular time of a training camp on her side, she spent more time in the gym each day, spending time with Scathach to go over grappling techniques. As they sat on the mats after a round of wrestling training when Scathach glanced up at the ceiling.

"You know, I might know someone who can help you with submission defense more than I can," she said.

"Really?" Mordred said. "Come on, you're a great grappling teacher."

"Maybe for wrestling," Scathach said as she crossed her legs. "But I know someone who can help you defend against Medusa's locks and chokes even better than I can."

Mordred gently rocked back and forth on her butt as she pressed her feet together, staring at the ground as she considered Scathach's offer. She scratched her head and let out a sharp breath. "I guess it can't hurt. When can you bring her in?"

"Probably next week. Let's work on your conditioning until then."

Mordred nodded and prepared for another round. She continued her training with her regular team for the next seven days, pushing herself on the ground and while clinching with Scathach. Though Scathach was slightly smaller than Medusa, the size difference between her and Mordred helped give Mordred an idea of how she'd fare in the rematch. The first time she prepared for the fight with Medusa, she honed in on her striking defense over grappling. While she trained to stop takedowns, she hadn't drawn up more than a sketch of what she'd do if brought to the ground. Her conditioning with Scathach helped keep her from shambling on her feet when she got up from grappling.

Mordred came to the Chaldea Fight Team gym seven days after Scathach suggested bringing a new training partner to the fold. She came in with her bag over her shoulder and found a statuesque woman towering more than six feet tall chatting with Scathach and Ritsuka. They spoke and laughed like a trio of old friends. Scathach caught Mordred in the corner of her eye and beckoned her over. Ritsuka waved as the brawny woman turned to face her.

"Good morning, Mordred," Ritsuka said. "This is Quetzalcoatl, or Quetz for short."

"Hello!" Quetzalcoatl greeted. Mordred couldn't pin down her accent but guessed she hailed from Central or South America. Flowing blond hair hung in a quartet of tails. She flashes a pair of gentle green eyes to Mordred, though Mordred felt an underlying fierceness beneath them. Her lean and toned body stood a full head over Mordred as they shook hands.

"Scathach told me all about your upcoming fight," Quetzalcoatl said. "This Medusa woman is one tough fighter. We will have to train like we are getting ready to dance through fire."

"Hell yeah," Mordred remarked with a grin. "There's no way I'm gonna lose to her again."

Quetzalcoatl clapped in excitement. "Then let's get ready!"

Mordred and Quetz trained into their training gear and took to the mats. Quetzalcoatl's striking green eyes peered down on Mordred as they faced each other, each sporting a smirk as they took their stances. They drilled takedowns and defense first. During the initial rounds, Quetzalcoatl tossed Mordred to the mats with echoing slams and stood like a tree when Mordred attempted takedowns. When they moved to submissions and defense, she caught Mordred with an array of kneebars, armbars, chokeholds, shoulder locks, and hooks. Each time she snagged Mordred in a hold, she taught Mordred how to execute it and how to defend. Sweat dyed her red clothes a deep crimson by the time they concluded the first day's training.

Mordred stumbled to the locker rooms and sat on a bench in the showers as cold water washed over her. She changed into her regular clothes, though sweat still bled through.

"You are a very hard worker, Mordred," Quetzalcoatl remarked as she packed her training clothes into her bag. "I think you'll surely win this fight!"

"Thanks," Mordred said, grinning at Quetzalcoatl's encouragement. "You're really good with those holds, Quetz. How long have you been training?"

"Oh, I fought at featherweight for a while, but I haven't competed in many years. My true love is in lucha libre!"

"Lucha libre?" Mordred echoed. "Like pro wrestling?"

"That's it! I still train grappling and use it in my matches, but I have not had a real fight in many years."

"I see. Still, that's cool." Mordred zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course! You and I are going to climb this mountain until your fight comes."

Mordred nodded and shook hands with Quetz before leaving. She stopped by Ritsuka's office to drop off the payment for Quetzalcoatl's training. The seven figures on the check made Mordred wince, but she would have fought another ten-million yen tournament to pay for a training like Quetzalcoatl. Her new apartment would have to wait.

Quetzalcoatl's sessions dominated the majority of Mordred's training. She would sharpen her strikes with Lancer, work on wrestling techniques with Scathach, and strategize with Boudica. Once she worked up a sweat with them, she went to the mat with Quetzalcoatl and often found herself tied in knots. Mordred worked to defend the holds with technique rather than forcing it with strength, searching for the tiny windows of opportunity to reverse or get out of one of Quetzalcoatl's submissions.

During the lead-up to the fight, Mordred conducted several interviews over the phone with journalists and media members keen to get a word from the younger Pendragon sister. Whenever they brought up Artoria, Mordred did little more than grimace and dance around the subject.

"I want to carve my own legacy," she'd say.

"I'm not gonna let people call me 'Artoria's little sister'," she'd often reply.

"I've accomplished things she hasn't, and I will fight her for the championship if it comes to that," she would rarely break out unless pushed by the interviewer. However, title belt or not, she planned on fighting Artoria if it was the last match she'd ever compete in.

During the last week of her training, she received a call from a number she did not recognize; even the area code was foreign to her, neither from England nor Japan. She lied down on her futon as she answered.

"Hello?" she said.

"Yes, Mordred Pendragon?" a male voice said on the other line. It was one Mordred recognized but could not identify in a split second.

"Yeah, that's me. You want an interview or something?"

"No, that's not it. I'm not sure if you remember me, but I am James Moriarty."

Mordred shot straight up. "Moriarty? Aren't you one of Fran's coaches?"

"Fran? Ah yes, Victor's daughter. You are correct. That's part of why I'm contacting you, actually."

Mordred balled one of her hands into a fist and rested it on her knee. "What's going on? Is something up with Fran?"

A sigh came from Moriarty's end. "Listen, I would not do this for most other fighters. Many of them do not appreciate the art and are simply uncouth. Frankenstein is different, though. She's almost like a daughter to me."

Mordred glanced away from the phone, sucking her teeth as she clicked her tongue. "I haven't spoken to Fran in a long while. She hasn't even messaged me."

"Yes, well, that's part of why I am contacting you. Victor, her father, has been keeping her from sending you calls or messages. He even went so far as to get her a new phone and number so she wouldn't have your contact information."

Mordred's eyes widened. "What the hell? That sounds like some weird, abusive crap he's doing."

"I believe he thinks it will drive Fran, but I have not seen such a result. He has told me it will take time, but it pains me to see Fran so deplored." Silence hung between the lines for several seconds before Moriarty continued. "I cannot ask you for your contact information since Victor has been keeping tabs on her like a hawk on mice, but please understand why she has been silent since her departure from Japan."

Mordred's face grew flush as she let the phone drop to the futon. She pulled her knees close to her chest and took in a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess I understand. Thanks for telling me."

"Of course, miss Pendragon. Is there anything you would like me to tell Frankenstein before I go?"

Mordred ran a hand through her hair as she fought to keep her voice steady. "Tell her I miss her, okay?"

"Of course; thank you, and goodbye."

The phone returned to its call list. Mordred shoved it to the side as she slumped down in her futon, biting down on her lip as she stared at the previous calls on the list. Frankenstein's name appeared near the bottom of the most recent, the dead number below her name. She set it on her nightstand and sprawled out on the futon, rubbing away a thin wetness in her eyes. That was all she would allow.

Mordred hopped from one foot to another as she warmed up in the locker room. Her first Grail Wars FC fight would open the main card. The crowd of sixteen-thousand droned in anticipation as the announcer called for the start of the show. She let out a sharp breath as the camera panned around the applauding Osakan crowd. It was the first time she'd been in the city of Osaka, spending a week preparing and giving interviews for Grail Wars. Many interviews brought up the same subject: her goals, her feelings going into her first fight with the company, and her sister. Ritsuka asked her to keep her answers level, so Mordred gave diplomatic answers through gritted teeth and a twitching eye. All of that fell behind her as she and the Chaldea fight team were called to the entryway.

"This is it, Mordred," Ritsuka said.

Mordred nodded, grinning as she straightened her back and smashed her fist into her palm. She looked at her team and said, "Time to go."

Her usual entourage of Ritsuka, Lancer, Boudica, and Scathach flanked her, but Chiyome joined them for Mordred's first walkout in the Grail Wars company. She brought up the rear as they made their way down the aisle to a raucous crowd. Cheers pierced Mordred's ears as she made her way to the entrance of the cage. The canvas beneath her feet sent a rush through her as she posed for the crowd with a confident grin. A shiver came over her as Medusa's music came over the speakers, announcing the arrival of the spindly woman.

Medusa walked down the aisle with a deep purple blindfold over her steely eyes, slithering to the door with ease. Mordred couldn't tell if there was mesh on the blindfold or if her corner members guided her, but neither possibility mattered when the blindfold fell. The cold, piercing eyes of Medusa glared at Mordred from across the ring. She stood with the stillness of stone while Mordred stretched and warmed up her body. A woman with hazel eyes and short brown hair took to the middle of the octagon-shaped cage with a microphone in hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" she started. "This fight is scheduled for three rounds in Grail Wars FC. Introducing first! She is a kickboxer fighting out of Shibuya, Japan by way of Cornwall, England; she is a Master Class MMA Tournament winner - Mordred Pendragon!"

They were words Mordred heard eight times before, similar in syntax and cadence. The boom of the audience as she sauntered to the middle of the cage and flexed for them sent a new shot of adrenaline through her. She returned to her corner, hopping side-to-side from one foot to another as the announcer introduced Medusa. A referee took to the center and pointed to each woman, asking if they were ready. Mordred and Medusa nodded without hesitation and moved to meet each other in the center.