“Big crowd out there, eh?”

“Hah! Nothin’ I ain’t used to!”

“As expected of the only knight in history to have over two-hundred losses.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Brig,” Medrauta laughed.

Brigitte grinned, her perfectly white teeth gleaming in the dim ready room that connected to the arena where Medrauta and Viviane’s match would be taking place within a matter of minutes.

She’d acted as Medrauta’s sparring partner for the past two weeks, and although she hadn’t managed to win a single one of their duels, she also hadn’t lost a single match against Medrauta and Viviane.

Honestly, she was rather worried about Medrauta’s upcoming match. She and Levant had helped as much as they could, but the matches hadn’t even been close. Viviane still needed to work on her combat awareness, and Medrauta had been... Medrauta. Always rushing off to engage Brigitte in combat without regard for protecting her lady.

Brigitte sighed. It’ll have to do.

A loud ‘clunk’ was heard as the locks on the prep room’s gate were disengaged.

Medrauta turned her attention to Viviane who sat on a bench with her hands clasped together in an effort to prevent her nervous shaking. “It’s time, Viviane. You ready?”

Viviane stared at her hands for a few seconds before reaching down beside her to pick something up. She stood up, nodding once to herself, then again toward Medrauta. “Y-Yeah!”

“Hell yeah. Let’s make this my first win! What’s that, by the way?” Medrauta asked as she eyed the shiny round object in Viviane’s hands.

“Ah... It’s a buckler. Lord Levant thought I’d find it handy, ahaha...”

“Haha...” Medrauta scratched the back of her head awkwardly. She was pretty sure that decision had something to do with her tendency to leave Viviane unprotected during their practice matches.

Regardless, the two wouldn’t have any more time to ruminate on such trivial things. The gate slid open, briefly blinding the pair as sunlight flashed through the opening.

Upon entering the arena, a round of cheering erupted from the surrounding stands. As much as she lost, Medrauta was still pretty popular among the knights due to her skill and carefree attitude outside of matches.

“And heeeere she is!” The announcer’s magically amplified voice echoed through the air, reaching every inch of the arena. “Coming in from the moon side, we have the famous knight who’s never lost a single duel, but has managed to rack up two-hundred losses in the arena this month! You’ve all seen her skill and her temper tantrums whenever she loses! Give it up for Knight Medrauta!”

Medrauta’s left eye twitched in annoyance as she looked up toward the announcer’s booth. Temper tantrums? Seriously? We’re gonna have a chat after this, Trista.

Upon feeling Medrauta’s gaze upon her, Trista flinched, but pressed on anyway. She was a second-year student, and she’d been the academy’s primary match announcer and commentator for over a year and a half.

No skilled knight herself, she sought to make a career out of commentating instead, especially given her lord’s Crest ability. Even an aggressive glare like that wouldn’t be able to stop an experienced announcer!

“And accompanying her is none other than Viviane of the Castellia ducal family! Though she hasn’t actually participated in any matches so far, we look forward to seeing what she can do, especially given how lady-dame pairs have yet been unheard of!”

As Trista finished her spiel, the gate from the other side slid open to reveal two familiar faces.

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Bastiche ran a hand through his jet-black hair as he approached the center of the arena with Ritya, his already arrogant smirk somehow giving off an aura that grew progressively more arrogant as Trista listed his accomplishments.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run away,” Bastiche remarked as the two pairs met in the arena’s center, his smirk spreading into a wide and mocking grin.

“I see you’ve changed your weapon,” Medrauta gestured toward the sword that hung against Ritya’s hip. While she normally wielded a longsword like Medrauta, a rapier was now in its place.

“Gah! You still dare to ignore me!?” Bastiche spat.

“Yes... I felt that it was necessary,” Ritya replied simply. Medrauta thought that there would be fear in Ritya’s emerald eyes after what had happened during their previous encounter, but she was glad that there wasn’t a trace to be seen.

Good. A knight should never allow a past defeat to affect them.

“Alright! Knights and nobles, salute and take your places on the battlefield! May Aluvsha’s presence grace this match!” Trista’s voice rang out.

Medrauta and Ritya both unsheathed their weapons, raising them in front of their faces to perform a salute before turning away to escort their nobles to their respective daises.

While both knights and nobles were permitted to move freely within the confines of the arena, nobles generally remained atop the dais that was constructed on their side of the battlefield.

A dais was a raised structure with buttressed railings surrounding it, providing a strong defensive position for the noble take shelter behind so that they could more easily focus on channeling their mana and using their Crest’s abilities.

As the goal of a match was to successfully land a strike upon the opposing noble instead of defeating the opposing knight, it was essential that a noble was positioned advantageously. Because of this victory condition, a top-tier knight was a master of not only offense, but defense as well.

Once both nobles had reached their respective dais, the sound of a shrill trumpet shot through the air.

Reflexively, both knights shot forward from their standing positions, closing the distance between them within seconds as they met in the center of the arena once more, the steel of their blades clashing with every cut and parry.

“I see you’ve improved,” Medrauta remarked as she casually parried Ritya’s rapid thrusts with frustrating ease.

“And I see you’re still just as much of a monster,” Ritya replied, hastily disengaging with a risky backstep that took her just out of reach as Medrauta issued a riposte after parrying her latest thrust.

While Ritya’s retreat might have been a stellar defensive maneuver against any other knight, she had forgotten just how terrifying of an opponent Medrauta really was. After all, she hadn’t actually fought the silver-haired knight one-on-one before.

Reacting with unfathomable speed, Medrauta’s expert footwork closed the distance even as Ritya had backed away. With a flick of her wrist, she corrected the trajectory of her swing as if it were the most natural thing to do.

“Guh!” Ritya gasped in pain as the tip of Medrauta’s blade pierced through a gap in her armor and into her shoulder. A warm crimson liquid soaked into her shirt almost immediately as Medrauta withdrew her weapon.

Medrauta advanced to follow up on her strike, but as she raised her sword, a voice thundered across the arena.

“By my authority, I punish those who do harm!”

A golden light exploded from above Bastiche as those words left his lips, coalescing into the shape of a glowing gavel that hovered above his head as if it were a halo.

Immediately, Medrauta winced. Her arm went slack mid-strike from the sudden pain, forcing her to retreat. A second later, she felt something warm trickle from her shoulder and down her arm.

“Whoooaaa! Knight Medrauta has forced Lord Bastiche to use his Crest within the first thirty seconds of the match! What frightening pressure! However, will the Crestless Medrauta be able to keep this up!?”

Ah, shit... What an annoying ability. Medrauta grit her teeth as she raised her sword again, readying herself to defend against the now-recovered Ritya.

Meanwhile, far behind Medrauta, Viviane stood upon her dais. She leaned against the railing, gripping it so tightly that the whites of her knuckles showed. Her brow was furrowed worriedly as she stared at Medrauta’s back.

She was winning just a second ago, so why is she backing away now...? Viviane knew that Bastiche activating his Crest must’ve caused something to change, but she had no idea what.

She wanted to shout out to her knight. Even if they couldn’t resonate, she could at least give a helpful order, or maybe even words of encouragement.

But she didn’t know anything about Bastiche’s ability. She didn’t know anything about Ritya’s level of skill. Hell, she barely knew anything about Medrauta.

All she could do was stand there watching uselessly.

Watching, as tears welled up in her eyes.