Hello

The Walpurgisknight backed away after a brief struggle before finally managing to wrench his blade from Medrauta’s unwavering grip.

In the process, Medrauta had torn off a chunk of the weapon, causing her to gaze at it briefly. In her hand, it was like a shard of the night sky, reflecting no light yet absorbing all. She tightened her grip, crushing it into pieces.

“Lady Scarlet.” Medrauta spoke. “Get Eris out of here. She needs help immediately.”

Scarlet didn’t need telling twice. The noblewoman dashed forward as quickly as she could in spite of her injuries, stopping only when she arrived at her fallen knight’s side.

Scarlet had never knelt before. Not even in the presence of royalty. But now, she sunk down, kneeling beside Eris’ unconscious body. The blonde-haired knight’s eyes were closed and she was barely breathing, but she seemed alive for now at the very least.

Among the knights sent from Spinel, one of them was a knight-hospitalier paired with a noble who could bestow a fairly decent healing Crest. However, Scarlet’s rudimentary medical knowledge told her that it was still too soon to relax with her knight in critical condition. With her one good arm, the noblewoman hefted Eris on her shoulder, her delicate frame protesting as it strained against the knight’s weight.

Eris wasn’t particularly heavy, especially given her small stature, but her well-built muscles were dense and gave Scarlet’s untrained body a significant challenge. The noblewoman took an experimental step, wincing as the effort caused one of her wounds to reopen, a trickle of blood running down her outer thigh.

Viviane’s eyes flickered between Medrauta and Scarlet, torn between helping her closest friend and her beloved knight. Logically, Scarlet was the obvious choice given her injured state and her absolute inability to haul the dying Eris back to the knights in the rear, but she also didn’t want to leave Medrauta.

Though he had been momentarily surprised, the Walpurgisknight still stood tall and undaunted. His thick plate armor still bore several gashes from Eris’ attacks, but they weren’t significant enough to actually hamper the armor’s function. Aside from the heavy rasp of his breath indicating some degree of fatigue from his fight with Eris, he was otherwise prepared for another bout against Medrauta.

Viviane bit her lip, clearly at an impasse. If she left, she would deprive Medrauta of her Crest and the enhanced abilities that it would grant her, not to mention the Lake’s power to suppress a Sworn’s regenerative abilities. However, it was obvious that Scarlet wouldn’t be able to make it back to the camp in time without help, leading to Eris’ inevitable death.

The safety of my knight... or the life of my dearest friend’s knight... Viviane clenched her bow tightly. There were no more arrows for her to shoot. Oh, Aluvsha... Just what am I supposed to do?

“Vivi.” Medrauta spoke. Though her gaze never left her opponent, she could sense her beloved lady’s turmoil with ease. “Go. I’ll be fine alone.”

“M-Medrauta!?” Viviane blinked, surprised. Her knight’s voice had freed her from the mire of her dilemma for now. “But I—”

“Everything will be alright, Vivi. This time, I won’t let anyone die... So please save Eris. You’re the only one who can.”

Viviane hesitated for a moment before nodding resolutely. Though her heart was still laden with worry for her knight, she rushed toward Scarlet, the raven-haired noblewoman nodding at her gratefully as she transferred Eris to Viviane.

As the two noblewomen and Eris hastily departed from the shield tower’s vicinity, Medrauta released a sigh of relief and narrowed her eyes, meeting the Walpurgisknight’s. Her black-clad opponent shuffled forward cautiously, clearly wary of the new ability she’d suddenly manifested.

Medrauta sauntered forward in an almost relaxed fashion, the blade of her gleaming sword resting on her shoulder. Though the Walpurgisknight was a formidable opponent, the power of her Oath filled her with unshakeable confidence even as she felt Viviane’s Crest wane and fade.

Wordlessly, the two stared at each other before exploding into a flurry of motion, their weapons clashing thunderously, both of them leveraging their strengths against one another. Medrauta ducked, dashed, and flipped through the air, avoiding each of the Walpurgisknight’s attacks with what appeared to be effortless ease while raining down a rapid series of cuts and slashes from all angles, her blade biting deeply into her opponent’s armor and drawing forth black blood.

Meanwhile, the Walpurgisknight unleashed a devastating series of heavy sweeping attacks, using the sheer length and weight of his weapon to ward Medrauta away. In a state of supreme focus, the Walpurgisknight displayed the true extent of his skills as a veritable blademaster, managing to minimize the damage he took from Medrauta’s assault despite the silver-haired knight’s superior agility.

Their swords met violently, their blades vibrating from the sheer force of the impact and emitting a harmonic ring that filled the air. Though the orchestra of their duel had no audience, it played with a fervor never before seen.

The two knights disengaged briefly before clashing once more, both attempting to gain the upper hand. Medrauta ducked underneath the Walpurgisknight’s latest swing, thrusting her sword upward and sinking it straight through her opponent’s armpit. She twisted her blade as she retrieved it, severely hampering the arm’s movement until the Walpurgisknight’s regeneration could kick in.

In response, the Walpurgisknight let out a fierce roar and barreled forward, knocking Medrauta backwards with his shoulder. The force threw the silver-haired knight through the air, causing her to land several feet away, but she quickly bounced back to her feet, her sword at the ready as the Walpurgisknight followed up with a thrust that was quickly deflected.

“...So she was right.” The Walpurgisknight murmured. “You need not bear a Crest to match the strength of a knight.”

“Neither do you.” Medrauta remarked, flourishing her sword. While her opponent’s chest heaved heavily and the shredded steel of his armor displayed slowly regenerating wounds, the silver-haired knight stood relaxed and unscathed.

The Walpurgisknight sucked in a deep breath and drew himself to full height, his enormous stature towering over Medrauta. He brought his enormous blade up, taking on a stance well-suited for delivering a single crushing blow that would plow through all that dared remain in its path.

“I need no Crest. I have already lost faith in such things long ago.”

“No. The only thing you’ve lost faith in is yourself.” Medrauta pointed the tip of her sword at the Walpurgisknight. “Come. Let’s finish this.”

Black mana manifested around the Walpurgisknight’s sword as he prepared to deliver his decisive blow. The orbs of darkness glowed with a crimson light as they surrounded the blade, cloaking it in writhing shadows that pulsed ominously as they gathered into a gigantic mass that extended the blade’s length and size to such heights that it rivaled even the shield tower behind.

With a deafening roar, the Walpurgisknight brought his sword down upon the silver-haired knight, seeking to crush her in a single blow.

...What!? He had expected Medrauta to dodge or attempt to parry the attack with some sort of trump card that she’d kept hidden until now, but the silver-haired knight merely lowered her blade instead, as if she were resigning herself to her fate.

“Clarent.” Medrauta spoke, her voice clear and confident. She raised her hand toward the massive blade of black mana descending upon her. It crashed into her waiting palm, struggling fiercely to no avail. Bit by bit, the energy that composed the blade began breaking down until it was no more, disappearing into the air where it belonged.

“No... That’s... That’s impossible!” The Walpurgisknight’s eyes widened. He had been rendered completely and utterly stunned by the sheer defensive power of Medrauta’s unbreakable Oath.

In a single step, Medrauta closed the distance between herself and the Walpurgisknight, her opponent scarcely noticing her presence as the silver of her sword flashed through the air. Just barely, the Walpurgsknight had managed to avoid Medrauta’s fatal slash that would have beheaded him, but the knight’s blade caught onto one of the horns of his helmet, shearing straight through it and tugging the rest of it off the Walpurgisknight’s head.

The black-clad knight stumbled backward, a free hand shooting up to his face in a last-ditch attempt to hide his identity.

It was already too late.

The tip of Medrauta’s sword buried itself in the soft dirt beneath her feet as she stared at the man standing before her. Her clear blue eyes that had blazed only with resolve and determination were now muddied by confusion, rage, and the bitterness of betrayal.

She didn’t understand why he was standing here in front of her, clad in the pitch-black armor of Amelia’s champion. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t replied to any of her letters after the attack on the academy. She didn’t understand why he had nearly killed Eris and attacked them without a single shred of regret or hesitation.

Medrauta didn’t understand any of it. Not when the man standing before her was someone she had so fondly thought of as her foster father for all these years.

“...Padraig?”