Crest of the Strongest Knight

Chapter 63 - Betrayal

Medrauta frowned and adjusted her posture, exuding a killing intent that rivaled even that of the witch's. Though the edges of her blade were dull, the silver light that formed her armor had extended along the length of her sword, sharpening it to an overwhelming degree.

"Do you not fear death, little knight?"

"Death should fear me, witch."

With that simple exchange, both combatants burst forth in an explosion of motion, their movements impossible to track for anyone present.

Medrauta's blade moved so quickly that it appeared as nothing more than a whirling wheel of silver, and in contrast, the witch's sword described a perfect sphere of darkness.

Shockwaves erupted with each clash as both Medrauta and the witch struggled to gain an advantage. Their blades carved songs of death in the air, both of them devoting their full focus to the exchange as they knew even a single mistake would spell defeat. A flurry of silver and black decorated the air, but even after trading blows for several intense minutes, neither Medrauta or the witch had managed to gain any ground against their opponent. it was clear that they were evenly matched.

The witch leapt backward, and so too did Medrauta. Both combatants breathed heavily, but neither allowed their gaze to drift from their opponent.

"...Who are you?" Medrauta growled.

The witch didn't reply.

Medrauta's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the witch's every detail. Her breathing, her posture, the way she held her sword and the way she'd attacked and defended. In the span of a second, she analyzed everything she knew about the witch and came to a conclusion.

Ever since she entered Avalyne Academy, Medrauta had never lost a duel. She had fought against fellow knights of the same year and those above. It mattered not to her so long as she was able to put her skills to the test.

It was the same for the matches she'd participated in. Though she had lost two-hundred of them in a row, each loss provided Medrauta with a slew of knowledge, giving her a deep insight into all the knights that she'd fought in both duels and in matches. She had become intimately familiar with the fighting style of knights who could trade blows with her evenly, and this witch was no doubt one of them.

"...We have crossed blades before. I'm sure of it."

"You are mistaken, little knight. Why would a witch as great as I deign to cross blades with someone as pitiful as you?"

"I know you," Medrauta said with a frightening clarity.

The witch refrained from uttering even a single word. Instead, she pointed her blade toward Medrauta. Enough talk, she seemed to say. Medrauta was inclined to agree as she readied herself for the next clash. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get any answers by pressing.

I'll tear those answers from your throat myself then, Medrauta thought.

"Viviane!" Medrauta called. There was no need to say anything else. Her lady understood her meaning.

Medrauta and the witch stood facing each other in silence, both of them gauging the other's next move as they waged countless battles against each other within their minds. When one's arm twitched, the other responded, but neither moved from their spot.

An overwhelming pressure settled over the festival grounds, and it was clear from the look in Medrauta's sapphire glare that both combatants had decided to settle the match in the next move. Without warning, the knight and the witch lunged at each other, their blades screaming as they cut through the air.