Crest of the Strongest Knight

Chapter 157 - Thawing Snowflower

After all, I'm so much better... Eris thought bitterly. The fact that her envious thoughts weren't wrong only made it hurt more to see Lucas take his place before Lady Scarlet's dais. Although Eris wasn't exactly the best at gauging another's skill due to her rapid improvement being the product of hellish training and ridiculous exponential growth as opposed to a more gradual slope, she could tell from Lucas' posture and stance that he was far weaker than she.

"'Almost'?" Belita grinned. "I'm surprised you're being so merciful when it's plain as day that you're the better knight, and by far. Doesn't this look like your beloved Lady Scarlet has forgotten your promise?"

Eris blushed fiercely, punching Belita in the shoulder, an act that merely elicited a chuckle from the much larger knight. Deadly as she was with her daggers, Eris' physical strength was still pitiful compared to other knights. "B-Beloved!? W-What the hell are you saying, Belita!?"

Incidentally, Eris had spoken at length about her admiration for Lady Scarlet the very night before. Waxing poetic about the raven-haired noblewoman's beauty, magnanimity, and charisma, it had become more than apparent to Belita that Eris was in fact hopelessly in love with Lady Scarlet. Though she knew that such a love was doomed thanks to the policies in the empire, it certainly didn't stop her from teasing Eris at every chance she got.

"A-And besides! S-She hasn't forgotten! I mean, it's Lady Scarlet we're talking about! She's got a perfect memory! I'm sure he's just a stand-in until I get better! I haven't gotten the chance to show her how much I've improved, after all..." Eris pouted.

"...Guess we'll just have to see about that." Belita shrugged. Personally, she didn't have much of a stake in this, but she'd like to see her friend happy. After all, there was always the possibility of getting married in a different country on the off-chance that the seemingly untouchable Lady Scarlet somehow reciprocated Eris' feelings. Traveling outside the empire's pretty much impossible thanks to the church, but if it was Lady Scarlet, she could probably obtain permission... And pretty easily too.

"Hmph! Of course! Lady Scarlet wouldn't forget about me!"

"Right, right. By the way, what's this?" Belita asked, reaching over to inspect the large bag Eris was carrying on her shoulders. Her hand didn't even get halfway before the smaller knight slapped it away in panic.

"I-It's nothing!" Eris stammered, her cheeks turning into a bright red shade and leaning away from Belita.

This only served to arouse Belita's suspicions further. It wasn't exactly unusual for a knight to carry around a bag, but she could scarcely recall Eris with one, especially one so large. What had only been mild curiosity now turned into deep interest, and the look in Belita's eyes told Eris that her chances of getting away were going to be slim.

"Eris..." Belita frowned, inching closer to Eris. "You can't be thinking of throwing something into the arena just to help out Lady Scarlet, right...?"

"O-Of course not!" Eris replied, slightly heated. "I'd never do something that would embarrass Lady Scarlet! The only thing in my bag is a bouquet that I'm going to—"

The color drained rapidly from Eris' face as Belita's lips twisted into a devilish smirk. An impish twinkle flashed through Belita's eyes as she regarded Eris' corpselike pallor, basking in amusement as she located the only source of color remaining on the smaller knight's face.

Eris' cheeks reddened even further as she awaited Belita's inevitable teasing, but for some reason, it never came. Instead, Belita simply kept staring at Eris with that mischievous gaze and roguish smirk before finally offering a single phrase.

"Good luck, Eris."

As much as she wanted to inquire about the nature of Belita's statement, Eris' attention was inexorably drawn to the arena as the match officially commenced. The sound of the arena's tiled floor cracking echoed loudly through the air as both knights burst forth from their positions to meet in the center, locking blades and pitting their strength against one another.