Who Am I

“Gah!”

Medrauta had launched herself forward the instant Brigitte stepped away, her sword swinging at Leticia’s throat as it cut through the air.

Leticia raised her sword hastily to parry it. Though she already knew that Medrauta would be a formidable opponent, she certainly hadn’t expected such an aggressive start to the duel. Already finding herself being pushed back, Leticia parried Medrauta’s flurry of blows as she desperately sought a solution to turn the tables.

Even without the power of a Crest enhancing her body, Medrauta’s strength and speed were unparalleled among knights, and though Leticia recalled how the silver-haired knight had claimed Rosette to be her equal during the festival, each strike that Medrauta issued further reinforced how far the gap between herself and other knights truly were.

...It’s strange though, Leticia frowned as she stepped backward quickly, flicking her blade and deflecting Medrauta’s latest strike with some difficulty. While she was no doubt on the defensive, it didn’t feel like she was losing. Something felt wrong to her, but she couldn’t place her finger on what exactly it was.

As the two knights traded blows, Viviane and Rosaline watched by the side. The two noblewomen sat on a bench, both of them leaning forward with such intensity that they looked as if a gentle gust of wind would push them off the edge.

“I-Is Lettie going to be alright...? Dame Medrauta is attacking so fiercely...” Rosaline murmured as her beautiful features strained with concern.

“...I’d started noticing it after the attack, but it feels like Medrauta’s changed.” Viviane remarked worriedly, devoting all her focus to enhancing her vision so that she wouldn’t miss even a single second of her knight’s movements. “Yeah... There’s no doubt about it. There’s no way she would’ve fought like that before...”

“Like what?” Rosaline asked. To her, the movements of the two knights were simply blurs, and their blades were no more than glittering pinwheels of light and steel.

“So... aggressive. And she’s leaving herself open so often despite constantly pressing the attack...” Viviane frowned. “Before, I doubt even Lady Sakura could have actually struck Medrauta with an arrow, but the way she’s fighting now... Even I might be able to hit her.”

Viviane wasn’t the only one who noticed this fatal flaw in Medrauta’s technique, nor was she the first. After the fourth consecutive exchange of blows, Leticia slowly began to recognize what it was that had initially thrown her off about Medrauta’s form.

Leticia leveled her blade at her charging opponent’s form now, her eyes open and alert as she spotted not one, but four openings in Medrauta’s attack. Normally, she would have simply assumed that the gaps in her opponent’s defense were nothing more than bait, but now she wasn’t so sure.

Medrauta was attacking recklessly without concern for her own defense. Initially, Leticia thought that Medrauta was simply looking down on her and abandoning defense in favor of crushing Leticia with rapid blows, but she quickly reminded herself that she wasn’t just facing a knight that was underestimating her.

She was dueling against Medrauta. The reason why the silver-haired knight was so greatly respected amongst her fellow knights was not only due to her strength, but also due to her technique. Her movements were always perfect and flawless with no wasted energy. They left absolutely no openings, and each one of her strikes forced a parry that would leave her opponent open to a vicious counterattack.

Most importantly, she never held back or underestimated her opponents. Even against knights who were known to be dismal duelists, she always gave it her all and fought gallantly, never looking down on those that she dueled.

Then... What the hell is this, Medrauta? Leticia frowned as she leapt back once more, avoiding Medrauta’s latest blow. It was a wild horizontal cut that swung wide, and though each of the silver-haired knight’s attacks hit with the force of a falling mountain, there was no real technique behind those attacks, nor did they possess any qualities befitting of a knight.

When a knight swung their sword, they must do it with a purpose. What truly separates an attack delivered by a knight as opposed to a guard or a soldier is not the amount of strength put behind the strike, but rather the ideals that their blade carries.

Yet right now, your blade carries nothing, Medrauta. Leticia thought as she parried Medrauta’s follow-up attack with almost contemptuous ease. Nothing but rage.

Medrauta gasped as she felt the cold steel of Leticia’s sword thrust through the side of her hip, piercing through her breastplate and then her flesh. The impact was jarring as it was surprising. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had managed to land such a devastating blow on her during a duel.

She grit her teeth as Leticia pulled back her sword, already preparing to attack again. The black-haired knight’s sword came crashing down like a relentless wave, seeking to drown Medrauta in its deadly glory.

W-What...? What’s happening...? Medrauta backpedaled desperately as Leticia pressed the attack, each successive strike growing stronger and stronger just as her own confusion grew. She had no idea what was happening. Just a moment ago, she had been dominating the duel, but now Leticia was overwhelming her mercilessly.

“It’s not that I’ve gotten stronger, Medrauta.” Leticia said, answering the question in Medrauta’s eyes as her latest attack sent the silver-haired knight staggering back. “You’ve lost sight of who you are. You’ve lost sight of why you even wield a sword.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Medrauta spat, readying herself for Leticia’s advance.

“Haven’t you noticed? Everything I’ve used so far in this duel has been mine and mine alone. My footwork, my parries, my attacks... I’ve used nothing that Amelia’s shown me.”

“...So what? Are you trying to tell me that you’re stronger than me now?”

“No. I just know who I am.”

“...And what do you mean by that?”

“I am a proud knight,” Leticia declared, her clarion voice ringing across the training grounds. “I wield my sword for Lady Rosaline’s sake. I swing it to clear a path for her. I point it to lead the way.”

Medrauta raised an eyebrow. “Bold words for someone who abandoned all hope just minutes ago.”

“Yes. Perhaps I sound like a hypocrite now, but thanks to this duel, I’ve realized something very important. Whether I was weak or whether I was strong... It doesn’t matter. I thought that I had been unworthy of being by Lady Rosaline’s side because my strength was not mine, but that just shows how unworthy I truly was. Right now, I will take back that worth by proving that it is not your strength that matters, but the hopes that you carry.”

“...What are you trying to say, Leticia?”

“I am a proud knight,” Leticia reiterated. “I know who I am. Do you?”

What the hell is she going on about? Medrauta frowned. She had no idea what the point of Leticia’s question even was. Do I know who I am? Of course I do. I’m Medrauta, dumbass.

Without a second thought, Medrauta shot forward and issued a wicked backhand cut at Leticia’s side.

Leticia leaned to the side and deflected it with ease before stepping forward and ramming the pommel of her sword into Medrauta’s face, sending the silver-haired knight reeling backwards.

The fuck...!? Medrauta clutched her bruised and bleeding chin as she stared at Leticia with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Of course, she hadn’t underestimated her opponent at all, and she knew that Leticia was a knight who had managed to defeat even Rosette. She was more than a worthy foe, but even so, Medrauta didn’t understand how she was being pushed back so easily.

“I feared that my sword was an empty fraud. I feared that it would shatter with a single touch,” Leticia said as she advanced. Medrauta retreated awkwardly, unfamiliar with being on the defensive against someone who realistically wasn’t even close to her level. “But I’m glad there’s something I fear more now.”

“...And what is that?”

“A sword that carries nothing, Medrauta. A sword so devoid of purpose and aspiration that even the weakest knight could swat it aside as if it were no more than a fly.”

Leticia’s sword swung downward. Medrauta parried it, struggling as her blade locked against her opponent’s.

“I ask again,” Leticia’s glare bored into Medrauta’s eyes as she pressed down on her opponent’s sword mercilessly. “Do you know who you are, Medrauta?”

For the first time since the beginning of the duel, Medrauta found herself questioning her very identity as she stared back into Leticia’s eyes. Who she was, what she wanted to do, and why she even took up the blade in the first place. Of course, she was bound to become a knight after awakening a knight’s constitution, but there was more to it than just obligation.

Perhaps Leticia was right... Medrauta thought. I’ve lost sight of who I am and who I should be.

For what reason do I wield my sword...?