Crest of the Strongest Knight

Chapter 63 - Betrayal

"I grant thee my hollow grace!" Viviane shouted the moment Medrauta began to move. In response, the silver light that suffused Medrauta's body grew brighter, so much so that it was almost difficult to look directly at her.

"Haaah!" Medrauta gathered all her strength as she thrust her sword at her target, the resulting explosion of force so great that it could've been considered a force of nature.

The sheer power of her thrust carved an enormous gash into the campus grounds, destroying all that stood in the way of its rampage. There was absolutely no way anyone who received such an attack would survive. Not even a witch.

But despite all its glory, her attack had missed.

"You...!" The witch growled in fury as she realized that she had been deceived.

Medrauta smirked, an almost arrogant flame of superiority in her eyes as she glared at the witch who now desperately locked her black blade against Medrauta's silver.

The knight had gambled and won.

Indeed, Medrauta's attack had missed, but her goal was not for it to strike in the first place. Rather, she had intended for the storm of force that her earth-splitting thrust produced to destroy the crimson mask of her opponent. Had the witch known this, that sword of darkness would no doubt have pierced through Medrauta's heart instead of being pinned to place as it was now.

Medrauta's blazing blue eyes stared into the witch's lone crimson eye that had now been revealed, the passing force of her thrust having shattered the area of the gemstone mask that Viviane's arrow damaged earlier.

"So you prioritized your identity over victory," Medrauta mused.

"You would throw away your life for a mere chance at unmasking me?"

Medrauta drove forward now, pushing the witch back and forcing her to retreat from the blade lock as the knight swung her blade in an arc that would have bisected the witch had it connected.

"Of course not." Medrauta said, touching a hand to her light-wreathed chestplate. "I simply trust in my armor."

The witch flinched, and a swirl of emotions muddied her eye. She could tell from the knight's gentle tone that it was not the armor Medrauta donned which possessed her trust, but the one who bestowed that armor upon her.

"Then tremble as I shatter that trust." The witch intoned.

An enormous swarm of butterflies flowed from beneath the witch's robes, an amount far greater than ever before. The air filled with the stench of death and decay, and a pool of bubbling black liquid began to form around her feet.

Medrauta needed no further invitation. She leapt backwards immediately, positioning herself between the witch and Viviane. Whatever the witch was about to do, it was on a scale that surpassed everything she'd done before.

The skies darkened precipitously as if the sun itself cowered in fear of the witch's terrible magic and was hurrying to hide beneath the horizon. The cloudless sky shuddered. Lightning flashed and thunder roared.

The witch raised her empty hand, droves of black butterflies gathering at the tip of her finger. In another second, it would hold death incarnate.

"Perish, little kn—"

Shunk!

An enormous lance of ice shot through the air and tore the witch's arm off, the force throwing her through the air and dispersing the swarm of black butterflies that had gathered around her. Though the darkness seemed to retreat, the witch remained standing, seemingly unfazed as if she didn't even register her loss of a limb.