Crest of the Strongest Knight

Chapter 11 - Oath

"By my authority, I punish those who do harm!"

Fuck! Not again, you bastard! Medrauta winced as she parried Ritya's latest strike even as a spurt of blood gushed from her thigh. A wound identical to the one she'd just dealt her opponent mere seconds ago.

It had only been two minutes into the match, and both knights were already bloody beyond belief.

Although Medrauta had technically been winning her exchanges against Ritya, she was slowly being pushed back inch by inch. Despite both knights bearing the same wounds, there was one critical difference that was causing Medrauta to lose.

Endurance.

As befitting for one who was touted as the 'strongest knight', Medrauta's body barely bore any scars. Her strength, her speed, and her skill had surpassed her peers by such an extent that merely marking her became an exercise in futility for all but the most skilled of knights.

Because of that, she rarely had to deal with the consequences of wounds or prolonged combat. However, the same could not be said for Ritya.

An adequate knight at best, Ritya was neither supremely skilled nor strong. Instead, what she possessed was tenacity, and it was that tenacity which drove Bastiche to choose her as his knight. Through her tenacious endurance and impressive levels of pain tolerance, the full power of Bastiche's Crest was enabled, allowing them to take and hold the fifth place in the academy's rankings.

That was why even though they bore identical wounds, Ritya would never stop advancing until either her body gave out, or she obtained victory. And with each labored breath that Medrauta took, it seemed that the latter was far more likely.

"Just what the hell are you made of?" Medrauta gasped as she flicked her wrist in response to Ritya's latest thrust, causing the thinner sword to veer off course. Her instincts wanted her to counterattack, but her body screamed in protest.

"I could say the same for you," Ritya replied, shuffling forward and causing the trail of blood behind her to grow.

The two knights were bleeding from over a dozen wounds by now, and the once-gray tiles of the arena were now dyed crimson. It was clear that it was taking all of their willpower just to remain standing. If the match carried on for any longer, there was no doubt that they would pass out just from blood loss.

But before that, the match would surely come to a conclusion, for the final bell was about to toll.

Medrauta stepped backward in response to Ritya's advance. Each step that she took in retreat stung her pride greatly. To retreat against a knight of Ritya's caliber was shameful, but as much as she wanted to put her opponent in their place, she knew that she could not recklessly throw herself forward.

At least, not anymore.

A mere five paces behind her was a dais, and upon it stood Viviane with her once innocent eyes now muddied by a mixture of shock and fear.

Ritya advanced.

Medrauta retreated.

It was a cadence that they had gotten used to over the past few minutes, but now there was nowhere left to run. Medrauta pressed her back against the dais' railing, risking a glance at Viviane.

"...Medrauta." Viviane's voice was hoarse, and it came out as barely anything more than a whisper. She wanted to say so much more, but she couldn't. Not while the enemy fixed her with a glare sharper than any sword.

All she could do was stare helplessly at her knight.

Yet, it was enough to spur Medrauta on for one last push.