Crest of the Strongest Knight

Chapter 62 - The Future We Sought

She couldn't do anything.

Despite finally overcoming her greatest hurdles and even managing to mark the witch with her arrow, Viviane could do nothing to save the person she loved the most. All she could do was watch helplessly as Medrauta heroically leapt in front of her.

N-No...! Viviane's eyes moistened as she stared uselessly at her knight's back. She wanted to move, to scream, to push Medrauta out of the way. To do anything. Even if she would disgrace her knight's final sacrifice, she would gladly throw away her life just so Medrauta could live.

But she couldn't.

Time had slowed to a crawl for Viviane, as though the punishment for her inadequacy was to witness this scene for an eternity, pinned painfully in place as she could do nothing but watch while the pitch-black lance inched closer and closer toward Medrauta until it finally impaled her valiant chest.

It had been like this every time since the start. Whenever there was danger, Medrauta had been there to shield her. From the bullying which led to their match against Bastiche to the horrific wounds she'd suffered during their first match with the princess, Medrauta had always recklessly thrown herself in front of Viviane. Even their first meeting under that tree had begun with Medrauta protecting her.

Originally, Viviane hadn't thought much of it. Though Medrauta was indeed dear to her, it was nevertheless the job of a knight to protect their lady, and the deep magic vested in the arena grounds would save her from death.

It was only after the gruesome injuries that Medrauta had suffered under the heat of Gwenhwyfar's greatest attack that Viviane understood the absurdity of normalizing the wounds that Medrauta suffered after a match and truly began to worry for her knight's seemingly reckless approach when it came to shielding her.

Even so, her worries had been technically unfounded. The arena's deep magic had prevented Medrauta from dying regardless of how she chose to protect Viviane, and even if she suffered grievous wounds, there would normally be no real danger to her life.

While the facilities within Avalyne Academy's infirmary were not as advanced as those in the imperial academy, Lady Ysolte's presence more than made up for that. As the noble who possessed the greatest healing Crest in all the empire, there was none who could match her prowess when it came to defying death.

But they were not in the arena now, and Lady Ysolte was not here.

It was just Medrauta, the witch, that accursed black lance, and Viviane.

Ever-useless Viviane.

I thought I'd become strong... I thought I could finally stand next to her... That I could protect her...! Viviane's mind was filled solely with despair and regret, unable to act while the lance drew ever closer to Medrauta's chest. Even if she could move, there was nothing she could do. The lance was mere inches away from her knight, and even if she enhanced her limbs, she could not hope to move fast enough.

Is this the price of my arrogance...? Viviane thought as she hopelessly tried to reach out and grasp her knight's empty left hand. Despite the gravity of the situation, Medrauta still hadn't released her sword. Instead, the knight clung to it fiercer than ever as if she expected to survive this mortal blow and continue fighting for the sake of her lady.

Viviane's heart ached from the mere sight alone, and at once, she understood the meaning of her knight's desperate hold on the weapon. Even in Medrauta's last moments, the proud knight sought to declare that she would continue fighting for her lady even after she breathed her last.

Yet, even when presented with Medrauta's determination, Viviane could do nothing but wallow in despair until Medrauta's final breath.

...Her final breath? Viviane couldn't believe what she was thinking. Just this week, she had finally gathered the courage to confess her feelings to Medrauta and they had begun dating in earnest at last. Yet here she was, ready to let go of her beloved knight so quickly.