Decisive Strike

It was clear from the onset that there was only one way this duel would end.

Leticia had known it from the start, and even Medrauta in her fugue state understood it to be the case. It was only now that the two knights drove their swords against each other as they rushed toward the natural conclusion of their dance.

Medrauta’s blade met Leticia’s, sparks flying in the air. Both knights pushed against each other, their eyes burning with fiery resolve.

They struggled against each other for another moment before deciding to disengage simultaneously, pulling away and leaping back to study their opponent for the briefest second just to dive back into combat again.

Medrauta’s breath was heavy, but not exhausted. Sweat coated her body, droplets running down her cheek before falling from her chin. On the surface, she looked unperturbed, but she was slowly succumbing to the effects of battle fatigue and unlike before, she didn’t dare take her eyes off her opponent now.

Likewise, Leticia was focused solely on Medrauta. Her once pristine black hair was now stained with blood drawn as a result of Medrauta’s most recent attacks. Her wounds screamed every time she moved, but she welcomed the pain despite it sapping away her strength with every passing second.

As both knights locked eyes, they understood that the next strike would be the last.

Medrauta assumed a stance, and to Leticia, it seemed as if the world had paused.

The unwavering tip of her sword was pointed straight at her target, the entirety of her attention honed to such an infinitesimal point that Leticia nearly winced from the sharpness of Medrauta’s stare.

It was as if the silver-haired knight was declaring to the world that she would accept no other outcome.

A shiver ran down Leticia’s spine, and as she stared at Medrauta, she wondered if she could really manage to reach Medrauta with this final exchange of blows. The pressure that emanated from Medrauta was produced by no mere technique or posture, but as a result of the knight consciously deciding to condense all that she’d learned into this single attack.

In essence, Medrauta’s next strike would be the culmination of everything that she was.

The message was clear. Leticia had boldly proclaimed that she would be able to reach Medrauta, so now the silver-haired knight was challenging Leticia to do so by baring the entirety of herself on her blade.

Can I also reach that level...? Leticia thought as she slowly raised her blade. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the core of what made her a swordswoman. In an instant, she ran through every technique that she’d been taught over the years and settled on the one that she was most familiar with.

She raised her blade high above her head. It was a position that left her wide open, but also served as the optimal stance for her to deliver the attack that she’d settled on.

With this strike, I’ll reach her. I definitely will! Leticia nodded to herself almost imperceptibly as if to confirm her courage at the last second. She’d performed this overhead strike more times than she could count, and certainly more than any other cut or thrust that she’d been taught. This alone was her sole specialty. Her magnum opus.

Now then, come at me, Medrauta! Let me show you how I—

“You won’t.”

Leticia flinched, her concentration broken as Medrauta suddenly uttered those two words. “H-Huh!?”

“You won’t reach me like that, Leticia.”

Leticia was speechless as she stared at Medrauta. Is she just trying to shake my confidence...? She quickly dismissed that thought as she stared at the knight. Medrauta’s eyes were free of guile and possessed such clarity that they almost glowed like transparent sapphires. It was no mere bluff.

“Earlier, you said that my sword was empty. That it carried nothing. Perhaps you were right back then, but I would prefer an empty sword far more than what you’re holding right now.”

“W-What do you mean...?”

“If my blade is empty and devoid of resolve, I need only fill it like a vessel. As my will resurges and I recollect the fragments of who I am, my sword will become suffused with the determination that I wield. But what of yours, Leticia? Your blade may be filled, but right now, all I see is doubt and fear.”

Leticia stumbled back slightly. Medrauta’s words had cut deeper than her sword. She didn’t want to admit it, but despite the courage that she’d somehow managed to scrape together earlier, she hadn’t believed for a second that her blade would truly reach Medrauta. Rather, she had unconsciously desired an excuse for what would be an inevitable defeat, allowing her to say that she’d tried her best.

“W-What are you talking about...?”

“I won’t allow you to lose in such a pathetic way. Not when I’ve committed everything to this last strike. My past, my present, and my future. This is everything I am, not as a knight, but as a person. Do you really think you can reach me with such a half-hearted attempt?”

Leticia bit her lip. A half-hearted attempt...? It wasn’t half-hearted at all, Medrauta... What can you possibly know? You’ve always been strong. Even in your moment of weakness, you were still the strongest knight I’ve ever faced. All I have is this, so what more can I do...?

“You said you would reach me, Leticia. But is it your sword that will do so... or is it you?”

As Leticia pondered the meaning of those words, her eyes slowly widened. At once, she understood what Medrauta meant. She was a knight, and she was also Rosaline’s lover. Those were undeniable facts, but more than that, she was herself. She was Leticia Alcor, the lady knight who had suffered at the hands of her father and then from her own cowardice before finally gaining the courage to stand beside her beloved.

Leticia lowered her sword. That’s right... I’m more than just the techniques I’ve learned. I am... the one who will reach you, Medrauta!

In truth, she had already known this. She had known that she needed to lay her true self on her blade, but she hadn’t the confidence to do so until now. Leticia feared that if she’d lost even after doing so, it would mean that she wasn’t enough. That she was useless.

But that’s not the case, is it...? Leticia smiled faintly as she mentally chastised herself for her foolishness. In either case, I’m baring myself on my blade, but what I was doing before only contained my doubts and nothing else.

She understood why Medrauta was so strong now, and why she never held back or looked down on those who were weaker than her. Ah... So she’s been fighting like this all this time...

Leticia couldn’t help but shake her head, impressed at Medrauta’s confidence and strength of will. While fighting in such a manner was undoubtedly respectable, very few knights dared to do so, for a loss would leave them with no excuses. More importantly, some knights would even view a loss as a sign that their convictions weren’t strong enough. But that didn’t matter to Leticia right now. She understood it was the first step to becoming strong.

Very well, Medrauta! I’ll come at you with all I’ve got! Leticia flicked her sword upward, meeting Medrauta’s gaze once more. She inhaled deeply and then exhaled, focusing every fiber of her being into the steel of her blade and the strike that it would soon birth.

Medrauta grinned as she saw the spark of enlightenment within Leticia’s eyes. The black-haired knight stood with her sword relaxed, its tip loosely pointed toward Medrauta’s chest. There was no need for any fancy techniques or codified sword swings. This was her own unique bladework.

Both knights held their stance for a second longer and then exploded into a flurry of movement, hurtling toward one another like twin meteors set in an inevitable path of collision.

As their blades met and steel slithered against steel, both Medrauta and Leticia could feel the resolve imbued in each other’s blades. Their dreams, their ambitions, and the love that they felt for their ladies who were watching worriedly.

Neither wished to give ground even if it meant the oncoming strike would pierce them. To dodge would be a disgrace. They would receive the full brunt of each other’s feelings encapsulated in the shining metal of their swords.

Medrauta’s heart thumped rapidly. She had never once lost in a duel before, nor did she ever think she would until this moment. Leticia’s blade shot forward unerringly and its gleaming tip spelled nothing less than defeat.

Despite that, she knew she couldn’t afford to lose. Not while her blade contained the depths of her love for Viviane.

Leticia was no different. Even during her duel against Rosette during the festival tourney, she hadn’t felt adrenaline rush this violently through her body. She hadn’t entered this duel with the goal of victory, but now, she wished for nothing more but to win.

She knew that Medrauta thought the same, for the silver-haired knight’s thrust clearly portrayed her love for Viviane. Yet, Leticia could not afford to lose because of that very same reason, for her own attack bore her love toward Rosaline for all to see.

Their blades slid against each other, both vying for supremacy. Impossibly, their heartbeats accelerated, and time seemed to slow for both knights. Their finely honed senses shut out the world around them, focusing only on this brief but pivotal instant.

In another second, the victor of this duel would be decided.

Although their heartbeats didn’t share the same rhythm, their minds shared the same thought in that final moment.

With this last strike, I’ll win!