Crest of the Strongest Knight

Chapter 129 - Untouchable Heart

Explosions of dark energy shook the air violently, each one accompanied by a maniacal cackle.

Viviane kept her breath even as she darted through the chamber, deftly avoiding the bolts of red-black mana Bastiche rapidly fired at her. The sounds of clashing steel echoed in the distance, a clear indicator of her knight's battle against Ritya. Though Viviane wished for nothing more than to assist Medrauta's fight, she currently lacked the luxury of dividing her attention.

"Ahahaha! A noblewoman carrying a weapon!? How silly is that!?" Bastiche laughed as he fired bolt after bolt at Viviane, expending mana without care as a panoply of black-red spheres materialized around him. Meanwhile, Viviane continued to weave to and fro as she avoided every blast her opponent unleashed.

It was the first time she had ever been forced to fight alone, and though she remained unscathed, her heart pounded tremendously. Viviane wasn't sure whether the feeling coursing through her body was fear or simply adrenaline, but she knew she couldn't stop moving. A single misstep would spell her end, a fact that was only reinforced as she narrowly avoided Bastiche's latest attack.

Viviane flinched as she raised a hand to ward off debris scattered by the forceful explosions caused from Bastiche's bolts of corrupted mana. Slate shards shot through the air, bouncing off Viviane's leather bracers and reminding her of her proximity to death. Diving to the left as Bastiche unleashed yet another volley of explosive blasts, Viviane drew an arrow from the quiver on her hip, deciding to take a stand at last.

Already, black-red streaks of destruction raced through the air toward her, the radiant heat leaking from their volatile energies palpable against the delicate skin of her face and causing her eyes to water despite their distance. Viviane's grip on her bow tightened, determined to maintain her focus despite being seconds away from death should she fail.

Medrauta never hesitated even in the face of death... And neither will I! Viviane released the bowstring in one smooth motion, sending the arrow charging straight into certain death. Should it fail to connect, Viviane would be reduced to nothing more than a crimson mess on the ground. Even as the worry raced through her head, a massive explosion blossomed before her eyes, enveloping an enormous section of the space between Viviane and Bastiche.

Reacting almost immediately, Viviane covered her head and dove to the side, barely managing to avoid the resultant spray of debris. Before that moment, she had been too focused on calming her nerves, maintaining her Crest, and avoiding her opponent's destructive projectiles to even mount a counterattack, but now that her body had acclimated to the rhythm of combat, she could finally begin searching for a path to victory.

With a moment to spare at last, she shot a glance toward Medrauta, concern growing in her eyes as she watched her knight being slowly pushed back by Ritya. Unversed in witchcraft and the extent of its capabilities, Viviane had no idea what sort of abilities Ritya now possessed, but it looked like she was capable of matching Medrauta even without bearing a Crest herself.

"Gaaah!" Bastiche's sudden screams of pain broke Viviane from her train of thought. Although the noblewoman had managed to avoid the effects of the explosion completely, Bastiche hadn't accounted for the debris that it launched. Several sharp pieces of slate had embedded themselves in his body, a few of them even piercing his head. Even a quick glance would have spoken volumes about the fatal nature of Bastiche's injuries, yet he remained standing with no other adverse effects aside from the great pain he currently endured.

Viviane watched with horror and disgust as each piece of debris was slowly pushed out of Bastiche's body, falling to the floor with ringing clatters. The voids they left writhed and pulsed like massive colonies of worms, the lips of his wounds slowly snaking toward one another in the form of countless tendrils as they mended shut and delivered the nobleman from his pain.