With My Weakest

For the first time in her life, Ritya felt stronger than her opponent.

She had won her fair share of matches during her time at the academy, but never had she actually felt outright stronger than those she fought. Hardier, maybe. But stronger? Never. At least not until now as she hammered blow after blow into Medrauta’s longsword. Although the silver-haired knight was intercepting each of her attacks with what seemed like consummate ease, Ritya could tell that her heavy strikes were taking a toll on Medrauta.

“How does it feel, Medrauta!? How does it feel to be weak!?” Ritya laughed and pressed the attack, a wide smile stretched across her face as she slowly grew drunk from her newfound power. Though her lord hadn’t even bestowed his Crest upon her, she was still pushing her opponent back, and every step that Medrauta retreated caused an intense surge of pleasure to shoot through her body.

In stark contrast to her opponent’s crazed excitement, Medrauta parried her opponent’s strikes calmly, her sword swinging into position with perfect timing despite the rapid onslaught Ritya dished out. In her exhilaration, it seemed Ritya had forgotten that nothing had actually changed from Medrauta’s perspective. During her time at the academy, the silver-haired knight had racked up the most impressive loss streak in the entirety of the empire’s history, making her no stranger to being on the defense.

“Ghk!” Ritya flinched as her latest blow was parried and locked into position. She had no idea what even happened or why she could no longer move her sword, but Medrauta’s free hand came hurtling toward her face with tremendous speed.

THOOM!

Ritya hit the ground abruptly as Medrauta’s fist pounded her into the ground, slamming the knight straight into the slate floor and creating a small crater from the sheer force of impact. Although Medrauta’s attack had been simple and crude, her fist carried the force of a falling star and descended with such power that half of Ritya’s head had been completely destroyed.

The black-clad knight’s body twitched, her crushed mouth struggling in vain as she attempted to choke out screams of pain while the witch’s gift worked its magic and knit her head back together. Flesh, bone, and sinew all writhed unnaturally as her head slowly restored itself while Ritya staggered to her feet, backing away from Medrauta with fear in her eyes.

I-It doesn’t make sense...! Ritya glared at the silver-haired knight who was patiently waiting for her regeneration to be fully complete. I’m stronger, faster... I’m better in every way! I was overpowering her even though she’s bearing a Crest, but... Why...? How...? She grit her teeth in frustration as the last patch of skin on her face finished regenerating, dashing forward once more as she swung her sword at Medrauta in fury.

“How does it feel to be weak?” Medrauta raised an eyebrow, the sound of clashing steel accompanying her voice. Every attack that she blocked only served to heighten Ritya’s fury, and as the black-clad knight’s anger grew, so too did the frequency of her blows. “You ask as if this is the first time I’ve been forced to fight against opponents greater than I.”

“What...?” Ritya snarled, leaping back to recover her stamina after her latest flurry of attacks. Although she prided herself on her endurance, even she had her limits. “How dare you speak such words to me... You were the strongest knight in the academy. Even senior knights posed no challenge to you!”

“The strongest knight?” Medrauta shook her head with a humorless laugh. “The strongest swordswoman, perhaps. But the strongest knight? No. I’m not the strongest knight, nor was I ever. In truth, I am quite possibly the weakest knight, and though my lady’s Crest has evolved, it isn’t especially powerful compared to other Crests that I am aware of.”

Ritya’s grip around her sword tightened in frustration. All her life, she’d been ridiculed for being nothing more than average despite her best efforts, and though she had managed to place within the top ten of the academy’s rankings, she could hardly call that the fruit of her labors. Had it not been for her lord’s Crest, she never would have managed to defeat so many talented knights with nothing more than her endurance. After all, her entire battle plan only worked because she was weak enough to be struck so many times.

“What sort of bullshit are you even spouting, Medrauta?” Ritya spoke through gritted teeth. Even now, Medrauta hadn’t moved to capitalize on Ritya’s exhaustion, and though the black-clad knight should have been grateful, the act merely infuriated her more. “It’s not fair! I’ve sacrificed so much... Both my lord and I have. Yet even now, my sword can’t reach you... Why!?”

“...Why? Shouldn’t you be asking yourself?” Medrauta advanced toward Ritya at last, her sword at the ready. “It’s people like you that frustrates me the most. Did you really think that I was born like this? That I’m inherently more skilled than you? What a stupid thought.”

“Shut up!” Ritya launched herself at Medrauta, thrusting her sword in front of her as a wave of black-red energy trailed behind her, accelerating the speed and force of her charge. Like a crimson comet cloaked in the night, Ritya streaked through the air and descended upon Medrauta with incredible strength, the force of their swords colliding causing a massive shockwave that shook the very chamber itself.

“You abandoned your right to complain the moment you and your lord cast your lots with Amelia, Ritya.” Medrauta spat as she received Ritya’s blow head-on, tilting her sword to provide an angle that caused the black-clad knight’s sword to slide off easily. Caught off balance by the force of her own attack, Ritya stumbled forward only for Medrauta to thrust her knee upwards into Ritya’s gut viciously. Though Ritya’s armor managed to absorb most of the blow, Medrauta’s Crest-enhanced strength still penetrated the witchforged armor, pulverizing several of Ritya’s bones and internal organs.

“Don’t yap at me about fairness and sacrifice when you haven’t even tried to grow stronger through your own efforts. Do you think the strength you gained belongs to you and you alone? Can you really say that you’ve earned whatever you think you have?” Medrauta rested her sword on her shoulder as she watched Ritya sail through the air before landing on the ground with a heavy thump. She hadn’t even struck the black-clad knight with her blade once.

“Gahk!” Ritya purged a torrent of blood from her body, viscera and liquid emptying from her mouth as her organs mended themselves once more. Again, she struggled to her feet, eyeing Medrauta with rage. She drew a deep breath and focused her mind, concentrating on her blackened arm as she drew upon the dark magic coursing through her body.

“You don’t even know half of it...” Ritya said as she formed a sphere of pulsing crimson energy in her palm. Despite its size, the ball hummed with immense destructive power, drawing Medrauta’s attention to the danger it posed almost instantly. “What I suffered... What I endured... You don’t know any of it, Medrauta! You reject my strength, but in truth, you’re just afraid, aren’t you!? Let me show you what I’ve endured all these years, Medrauta! Let me show you how it feels to be weak! Let me show you how it feels to be unable to protect anything that you love!”

Medrauta simply raised an eyebrow even as the crimson sphere sped through the air toward her. “...You’re gonna show me how it feels to be weak? Don’t make me laugh. I’ll show you how the weak fight.”

Medrauta’s right arm erupted into a blur of motion as it descended from its resting position, issuing a blindingly fast vertical cut that split the orb of destruction perfectly. As the projectile’s dark energies unraveled, Medrauta simply waved a gauntleted arm, dispersing the resulting explosion to the side before it could so much as tousle a strand of her hair.

Ritya stared in abject horror as Medrauta walked through the cloud of dust raised by the explosion, barely managing to raise her sword in preparation of the silver-haired knight’s advance. Absolutely nothing made sense to her. She should have been the one who struck fear in her opponent’s heart. She should have been the one who was mercilessly annihilating Medrauta, yet right now, she was the one being pushed back despite all the power she’d gained.

It shouldn’t have been possible.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why I don’t use a greatsword?” Medrauta asked as she continued to step slowly toward her fear-stricken opponent. “Or why I’ve only ever worn half-plate? You’re strong, Ritya. As we are now, I’m much weaker than you, that much is true. But you’re mistaken if you think strength is all that matters. It’s only because I’m weak that I even stand a chance against you.”

“...What? That... That makes no fucking sense! You’re strong because you’re weak!? You can beat me because you’re weak!?” Ritya shook her head vehemently at the paradox that Medrauta presented. She would never accept such twisted logic. She would never allow herself to embrace something as useless as weakness. “What kind of bullshit is that!?”

“I guess I’ll just have to show you myself.” Medrauta paused, taking up a stance as she prepared to charge. “Brace yourself, Ritya. With my weakest, I’ll defeat your strongest!”