Declaration

“While this may be the first time you’ve missed a class, you understand that I’ll still have to punish you accordingly, yes?”

Medrauta simply nodded, her face betraying not even a smidge of displeasure. “I understand, Dame Eirlys.”

“Good. Then, you will be in charge of cleaning the training hall and ensuring that the sparring gear is maintained for this week.”

“...Huh?” Medrauta was so shocked that it took her a few seconds to even respond. She’d thought that the punishment would be something like doing laps around the academy field or repeatedly performing routine sword drills. Evidently, she was wrong. “But... Dame Eirlys, after this week, there’s only one week left before the end of the month...”

Eirlys raised an eyebrow. “Yes. And?”

“Well, I’ll need time to prepare myself for the... match.”

“Ah. That.”

Based on the look in Eirlys’ eyes, it seemed that she’d genuinely forgotten about the fact that Medrauta was well on her way to expulsion at the end of this month.

“Hm... You have a point, Medrauta. Very well then. I will inform the quartermaster that he will still be responsible for gear maintenance. You need only clean the training hall.”

“Thank you, Dame Eirlys.”

In truth, Medrauta had wished that the punishment would somehow be waived or at least relegated to something less time consuming, but she’d already managed to free up a large chunk of time even with that small change. Pushing her luck wasn’t exactly the best idea there.

Of course, Eirlys had sent her off to the training hall immediately. With the day now over, the training hall would be devoid of all but the most dedicated students. Honestly, cleaning the training hall wasn’t exactly a very time-consuming task. Rather, it was waiting for those students to disperse.

At the very least, I’ll have the hall to myself once everyone’s out... Medrauta consoled herself as she pushed open the oaken double doors of the training hall. Well-oiled and maintained, they swung inward without a sound.

“What the hell...?” Medrauta had allowed the words to slip out of her mouth as the interior of the training hall revealed to her a scene that she never could have imagined even in her wildest dreams.

A circle of knights and their nobles were clustered around the center of the training hall. Normally, this wouldn’t be unusual as the training hall was also a popular place for pairs to conduct sparring sessions. However, there were usually only at most four or five pairs at a time. Right now, there was double that number, and they all formed a circle around one person who laid sprawled on their knees.

And that person was none other than Viviane Castellia.

Her disheveled blonde hair, torn dress, and light scrapes on the otherwise flawless skin of her slender legs made it painfully obvious that those who were surrounding her had been in the process of roughing her up mere seconds ago.

However, their attention was now turned to Medrauta who had entered unannounced.

“What the hell are all of you fuckfaces doing?” Medrauta narrowed her eyes angrily as she scanned the faces of the knights in the hall. She recognized none of them, which meant that they were probably second-year students or had been so weak during duels that she hadn’t even bothered to commit their faces to memory.

In any case, Medrauta found solace in the fact that none of the people who she acknowledged as knights were engaged in something so disgustingly unchivalrous.

While nobles bore the power to bestow a Crest upon a knight and channel mana through their bodies to produce magic, they were no stronger than the average person. A knight physically assaulting a noble outside of a match was tantamount to disgracing not only their lineage, but their mentor as well.

“How brazenly rude,” one of the nobles remarked with an air of arrogance. “You would insult us even without understanding the entirety of the situation?”

“I asked you all a question. Or are you too retarded to comprehend something that simple?” Medrauta’s gaze fell upon each of the knights, one at a time.

“Tch! How dare you ignore me, knight!?”

“...Lord Bastiche, that is Medrauta, the one who is known as the strongest knight. She... has a right to question us if she so wishes,” one of the knights spoke up.

“‘Strongest knight’? So what? I am heir to the Revelo dukedom.”

...Bastiche? Medrauta’s eyes settled on the knight next to Bastiche. That knight must be Ritya, then. If I remember correctly, they’re ranked within the top ten as a pair.

Ritya must’ve said something that was sufficient enough to placate her lord, because her next words were addressed to Medrauta instead. “Dame Medrauta, this is not your business. However, I respect you as a fellow knight, so I shall oblige. In short, what you see here is a result of Lady Viviane’s own actions, not ours.”

Medrauta raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that she did this all by herself? That she tore her dress in ten different places, ruined her hair, and fell hard enough to not only bruise, but scrape herself all on her own? Don’t bullshit me, Ritya.”

“...My apologies, Dame Medrauta. It seems that you’ve misunderstood me. What I mean to say is that we knights did not raise our hands or bear arms against a noble.”

Well, at the very least, they aren’t irredeemable curs. Medrauta let out a small sigh of relief inwardly. However, this still didn’t answer her question. “Still, you are knights, are you not? Do you mean to tell me that it is chivalrous to allow your lords and ladies to gang up on a single girl who cannot defend herself?”

“Shut up!” One of the nobles—a blue-haired girl dressed in a bright pink dress—yelled. “You don’t know anything!”

“Please refrain from such outbursts, Lady Veronica. It makes you look unsightly,” Ritya quickly shut the noble down before returning her attention to Medrauta. “Dame Medrauta, please allow me to explain. You see, Lady Viviane sought to take another noble’s knight. As such, they were simply forced to respond in kind.”

‘Forced’, huh? What a convenient word in this situation. “And your lords and ladies thought they needed ten people to ‘respond in kind’?”

Ritya gave Medrauta a diplomatic smile, but it was clear that she was finished with answering questions. “The nobles are governed by different rules than we.”

Medrauta nodded, digesting that line slowly. “Lady Viviane.”

“E-Eep! Y-Yes!” Viviane looked up in surprise. Prior to being addressed by Medrauta, she had still been cowering on the ground, trying to make herself look as small as possible.

“Is what Ritya said true?”

“Ah...” Viviane nodded, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “...Yes. It was my fault...”

“I see.”

With that, Medrauta began walking toward the crowd, her eyes set in a determined light.

“Oh? You’re approaching us?” Bastiche grinned arrogantly. “You needn’t kneel before us to apologize. It was a simple misunderstanding, so a bow will do.”

Medrauta ignored him, walking past the lord and removing her glove. In a single, smooth motion that was too fast for anyone to follow, she brought the glove back and then slapped it against Ritya’s face.

The echo was deafening. Not a single person could react to what Medrauta had just done. As they all stared, seemingly transfixed by the glove in her hand, that slap resounded in the training hall nine more times.

“Listen up, all of you shitty excuses for knights,” Medrauta declared. “I challenge you all to a duel right now.”