Mordred fired the first shot with a jab that flew past Medusa's head. She followed with a kick to Medusa's leg, leaving a welt on her calf. Medusa's face remained stone-cold but kept light on her front leg. Several shots came from Medusa as Mordred stepped forward, but her fists hit the air as Mordred slipped out of her reach. The mesh fence of the cage shook as Mordred's back bounced against it. As she prepared to circle around and chip away with jabs, Medusa reached her right hand back. Instinct shoved Mordred to the side to dodge, but Medusa pulled her hand back and shot for a takedown, wrapping her arms around Mordred's legs.
Medusa pushed against Mordred as they fought for control against the cage. Her long arms snaked under Mordred's as she hooker her in, forcing Mordred to try and push away. All she could manage was her forearm against Medusa's face. They separated an inch and no more as Medusa exploded forward again and slid behind Mordred. She jumped and wrapped one arm under Mordred's neck, grabbing her own bicep as she steadied her hand against the back of Mordred's head. Mordred tucked in her chin as Medusa threw them on the ground. Pressure crushed Mordred's neck and chin as she got her hands on Medusa's arm.
"It's just like you practiced!" Scathach shouted from her corner.
"Don't try to struggle too much!" Chiyome said. "You're fine as long as she doesn't get it under your chin!"
Mordred kept her hands on Medusa's arm as the pressure around her head crushed in a vice grip. She snuck her fingers between her chin and Medusa's neck, relieving some of the strain as Medusa tightened her constriction. Her breathing remained steady as she arched her back and kept Medusa's legs from hooking hers. Medusa grunted as she squeezed like she was trying to pop off Mordred's head. They fought for an advantageous position while Mordred kept the lock from fully applying. Though she had to bite hard on her mouthguard as the pain piled on her chin and neck like bricks, she could still breathe, she could still think clearly; she could still fight.
Medusa's grip loosened as her arms burned, ready to snap if she applied any more pressure. Her slight slack sparked Mordred's own explosion as she pushed away Medusa's arm and fought to escape her guard. The sudden movement and exhaustion in her arms kept Medusa from countering, and she soon found herself under Mordred. Elbows rained down on her forehead as Mordred remained in control from the side. They scrambled as Medusa sought to escape the barrage, rolling over into a turtle position. She blocked Mordred's hammerfists slamming down on her ear as she inched her legs to set up a submission, her plan to roll forward into a kneebar. Mordred felt the movement and jumped onto Medusa's back. In a simultaneous, though clumsy, move, she shot her arm under Medusa's neck and locked in a choke of her own. Cries from both women's corner rang out as Medusa tried to push Mordred's arm away. Thirty seconds remained on the clock as Mordred grit her teeth, adjusted her grip, and flexed her biceps to cut as much blood flow to Medusa's head as possible.
Three light taps touched Mordred's glove as Medusa signaled her submission. The referee jumped in and called off the fight, shouting for Mordred to release her grip. Mordred let her arms go and jumped to her feet as Medusa lay prone on her stomach. Her eyes grew wide as she stood at the edge of the octagon, and she jumped up with a raised fist and wide smile. She screamed in victory and jumped onto the fence, smashing her fist against the cushioned rim of the cage as the crowd erupted in applause. Ritsuka and the rest of the Chaldea fight team joined her in the cage. They hugged Mordred one-by-one.
"Thank you, guys," Mordred said. "All of you. That could have been a disaster."
"You're the one who got it done," Lancer said. "Let these people and whoever's watching know who you are."
Mordred grinned and nodded as she choked down everything except her pride as she stood in the middle of the ring. The referee grabbed the wrist of her glove as Medusa stood on the opposite side. Long strands of purple hair hung loose as Medusa bowed her head. Her grey eyes stared off at the canvas floor. As Mordred stared at her, awaiting the announcer to declare her the winner, it occurred to her how much work Medusa must have put into the fight, how long she prepared only to feel the same pain of defeat Mordred felt upon her fist loss. She raised her head and let out a sharp breath, looking up to the lights as the announcer cleared his throat off-mic.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she said. "The referee has called an end to this fight at four minutes and forty-seven seconds in the first round. Your winner by submission - Mordred Pendragon!"
The referee raised Mordred's right hand, and she raised her left as she grinned into a camera pointing directly at her. She shook the referee's hand and faced Medusa. They said nothing to each other as Medusa offered a short bow and left with her team. Mordred nodded as Medusa walked out of the cage and down the aisle.
"Congratulations, Mordred, on your Grail Wars debut!" the announcer said as she came to interview her.
"Thank you, Fujimura," Mordred said with her hands on her hips. "I knew what I had to do when I got in this cage, and there was no way I was gonna let Medusa beat me again."
Fujimura continued the interview, talking about the fight with Mordred, her training before the match, and her plan heading into it. Mordred watched her handiwork on a large screen in the arena, snickering as she took Medusa's back. They went back and forth a moment more before Fujimura asked one last question.
"Who do you want to fight next?" she asked.
"Well, they're not gonna give it to me yet," Mordred said. "But I'm gonna tear my way towards the championship no matter who I have to face."
Fujimura's eyes lit up as the crowd clapped. "Even if it's Artoria?"
Mordred's grin cracked. Her eyes narrowed as she brought the microphone closer to her mouth. "Especially if it's my sister." She shook hands with Fujimura and left without another word. The Chaldea fight team escorted her back to their locker room.
"Hell yeah!" Mordred shouted when the door shut, throwing off her gloves and undoing her ponytail. "Way to go getting me this fight, coach!" She wrapped one arm around Ritsuka and pulled her in close, giving her a thumbs up. Ritsuka offered a nervous smile, cringing as Mordred's sweat soaked into her clothes.
"No problem, Mordred," Ritsuka said as she slid out of Mordred's embrace. "You have another interview later, so you should get ready for that."
"Yeah, yeah," Mordred replied as she got into the shower. She redid her ponytail, completed an interview for several press members in a conference area, and jumped into the rental car with the rest of her teammates. They left the arena parking lot and headed out into Osaka. The flood of lights from the arena parking lot faded as they drove under the parallel columns of streetlights on the road.
"You know any good places we can celebrate?" Mordred asked as she leaned back in her seat. "I didn't eat much coming into this fight."
"I checked out a few places," Ritsuka said. "Anything you want in particular?"
Mordred shrugged. "Whatever's the nearest."
Their car stopped parallel to a bar bathed in soft green light with red kanji blaring its name to the streets - Illya's Castle. Mordred raised an eyebrow at the name but shrugged. She led the team inside to the low-lit counter with several monitors set up with video game consoles from the eighties and nineties. Tables and booths lined the walls, though most of the patrons congregated near the games.
"What is this?" Mordred blurted as they entered.
"I think they're called video game bars," Ritsuka replied. "It had a lot of good reviews, so I put it on the shortlist." She scratched the back of her head as she put on an embarrassed smile. "Perhaps I should have looked deeper into what this place is about."
"Eh, keep your deep-digging for my contracts." Mordred folded her hands behind her head as she looked for an unoccupied booth. "This place will do, anyways."
They spent the night like many others spent after a successful fight, cracking glasses together as Mordred abandoned any notion of diet or discipline she bottled up in the lead-up to fights. She and Chiyome briefly took to the retro consoles at the counter. Mordred's eye twitched when they fired up a fighting game, and she grit her teeth when Chiyome beat her three times in a row. Chiyome smiled at her, oblivious of Mordred's sizzling competitive streak as she stood to return to the booth.
"Hold on right there," Mordred said. "I ain't stopping unless you can beat me five in a row!"
Following two more games, Mordred sat the booth with crossed arms, though she loosened them seconds later. They spent an uninterrupted hour at the booth before Mordred's phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a message from Artoria. She excused herself from the table and headed outside. The lights from streetlights, signs, and headlights lit up her screen as she opened the message.
Congratulations,the message read. Mordred blinked twice and rubbed her thumb up and down to see if there was something she missed. There was nothing more, however, then the lone word. She clenched her fist, cracking her knuckles as she stopped herself from firing back. Instead, she took a deep breath and thumbed over the on-screen keyboard with narrow eyes but a clear head.
What'd you think of my performance? she asked. A wash of relief fell over her as the message went through, though she did not expect an immediate reply. But before she could shove her phone back into her pockets, it vibrated as a call came through. It wasn't one of her handful of contacts, but the area code at the start told her who was on the other line. Mordred accepted with a flash of her finger and brought the receiver up to her ear.
"What's up, Moriarty?" Mordred asked.
"Good afternoon, miss Pendragon," Moriarty replied. "Although I suppose it would be night for you. I wanted to congratulate you on your fight."
"Yeah, you saw it?" She leaned her elbow against a streetlight as passersby strolled behind her.
"Yes, quite impressive you managed to return the favor to Medusa. How does revenge taste for you?"
"What the Hell does that mean?" Mordred asked as she placed her free hand on her hip.
"Oh, some call it sweet, others bitter, and many savor it. Which are you?"
Mordred scoffed as she glared across the street at a blacked-out club window. "What's it matter to you? Didn't matter who was in the cage for my debut; I was gonna kick their ass anyways."
Moriarty's chuckle crackled through the phone. "Regardless, my primary purpose for calling is to deliver miss Fran's congratulations to you."
Mordred's eyes eased and her tense body loosened. She crossed one leg over the other as she leaned back against the streetlight. "She was watching?"
"But of course; you are in the same division and same weight class after all. Do not get the wrong idea, however; I am sure she was simply cheering on a friend."
Mordred nodded once, biting down on her lip. "When's she fighting next?"
"Ah, your timing could not be more impeccable. I am currently in Germany helping her train for a fight she has in five weeks. She's inching her way into becoming a ranked fighter, so do send her well wishes, prayers, thoughts; whatever you are so inclined."
Mordred took in a deep breath and let out a shallow sigh. "Yeah; tell her I'll be watching."
The two said their farewells before Mordred slipped back into the bar. She rejoined the Chaldea team in time to hear Lancer tell a story of one of Scathach's particularly brutal training sessions. Chiyome stared with wide eyes at Lancer as he recalled the day, failing to notice Mordred as she sat down next to her. Boudica flashed her a smile before returning to Lancer's tale. Ritsuka leaned her head past Chiyome.
"Has something come up?" she asked.
"Nah," Mordred replied, leaning back in her chair as she watched Lancer's mouth move. "Just a call from a friend."