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.

“...What the hell did you do?” Bastiche glared at Viviane, unable to believe the noblewoman had actually managed to shoot with such accuracy that she’d actually pierced one of his bolts and caused a chain reaction large enough to take out the rest of his volley. After all, the last time he had seen Viviane was back in the academy during their match. Back then, the noblewoman had been nothing more than a cowering child, hiding behind her knight and pitiful buckler.

“This.” Viviane answered simply, her hands erupting into a blur of motion as she raised her bow and spat four arrows in Bastiche’s direction, cutting off any venues of escape that the nobleman might take should he actually manage to react quick enough. After being on the receiving end of his volleys for several minutes, Viviane wasn’t going to allow him an opportunity to recuperate and regain his rhythm.

Two of Viviane’s arrows found their marks whereas the remaining two simply flew by Bastiche’s sides. Sure enough, the nobleman hadn’t expected Viviane to actually be capable of firing her bow with such speed or accuracy, leaving him completely stunned as four arrows filled the space around him in an instant. Had he attempted to dodge to either side, he would have been struck by an arrow regardless, but two currently embedded themselves in his body.

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Viviane’s black-shafted arrows protruded from the center of Bastiche’s chest and forehead as the nobleman staggered backward. Whether his stumble resulted from pain or shock, Viviane had no way of knowing, but regardless of what Bastiche felt, it didn’t last long. Reaching a hand to the projectiles stuck in his body, Bastiche pulled them free, causing his now blackened blood to spurt freely from the wounds before they closed.

His eyes showed clear surprise and perhaps even a hint of admiration as he glared at Viviane, but the emotion that his stare contained quickly changed to that of disdain. As the two nobles faced each other in a silent standoff, they knew their battle had reached a stalemate. Bastiche understood his bolts would never reach Viviane given her somehow enhanced constitution and superhuman archery skills whereas Viviane knew her mundane arrows would never be able to end Bastiche’s cursed immortality.

“...Lord Bastiche,” Viviane began. “Why did you do it?”

“Why did I do what?” Bastiche asked, his voice laced with irritation. He had expected this encounter to last mere seconds, obliterating the noblewoman in an instant using his newfound powers and then joining his knight to slay Medrauta slowly and painfully. The fact that Viviane was somehow capable of opposing his witch-granted strength infuriated him to no end. “Why did I kill all of these people? I already explained, didn’t I?”

Viviane shook her head. “No. Why did you do this? Why did you betray everyone...? The academy, your classmates, your friends... Even your family! Was all of this... really worth it?”

“Was this ‘worth it’? What a joke...” Bastiche shook his head, laughing humorlessly. “What does that even mean, Lady Viviane? Was it worth following Amelia so I could kill my father? No, probably not. I could’ve done that on my own. Was it worth crushing everyone’s livelihoods solely for the sake of slaking my thirst for vengeance? No. Ritya and I would have crushed them eventually.”

Viviane stared at Bastiche, horrified at his answer. If the nobleman had decided to use this moment to fire a blast at her, she doubted she could do much else other than dodge out of the way. She had expected Basitche to at least give her a reason for all the atrocities he had committed and all the pain he had caused. At the very least, she could try and comprehend his motivations.

“Then... What was all of this for?”

“I—”

“Gahk!” Ritya’s cry of pain echoed through the chamber as she collapsed onto the ground from Medrauta’s latest strike, a waterfall of blood and viscera pouring from her lips. The sound drew Bastiche’s attention immediately, interrupting whatever he was about to say. Despite all the cruelties he had committed, a spark of humanity still remained within him as he stared at Ritya with concern.

For a moment, Viviane was worried Bastiche would ignite his Crest and bestow it upon Ritya, but the nobleman showed no signs of interference despite his clenched fists. In fact, all he could do was stare helplessly as his knight staggered to her feet and pointed her blade at Medrauta. It was only then that Viviane realized the truth.

Bastiche didn’t fight with his knight as a pair because he wanted to destroy Viviane alone. Rather, it was because...

“...You’ve lost your Crest, haven’t you?” Viviane asked.

Bastiche remained silent as he returned his attention to Viviane. His silence alone served as enough of an answer for her.

The phenomenon was exceedingly rare, but the loss of a noble’s Crest had still been documented multiple times over the empire’s history. Though it was termed “Crest Abdication”, the process was anything but voluntary. While the exact cause of a noble losing their Crest was never discovered thanks to the extremely low sample size, a number of theories had been formulated over the ages, but Viviane’s mind harkened back to one of the most popular theories recorded.

“Aluvsha has abandoned you.” Viviane said, her words echoing loudly in the large chamber. She knew various nobles had engaged in acts of severe cruelty throughout the ages, but very rarely did they lose their Crests. In fact, the loss of a Crest signaled the end of an entire noble lineage, even if it was ducal in origin. In other words, House Revelo no longer existed.

“...So he has. But it matters not.” Bastiche replied, his words tinged with hurt despite his best attempts to hide his emotions. A Crest represented more than just a noble’s ability or pedigree. It was their birthright and an integral part of them, and despite her best efforts, Viviane could never understand the pain Bastiche endured. “A world where even God looks down upon Ritya and I... I don’t need it. I’ll rebuild it all from scratch!”

“...When? When did it start?” Viviane asked. Though she still tried to reach the nobleman’s heart, her words could only travel so far down the dark path Bastiche had condemned himself to. With his final words, the nobleman had gathered his resolve, no longer deigning to pay any attention to Viviane.

He raised his hands in Medrauta’s direction as the silver-haired knight charged toward Ritya, black-red spheres of destructive power materializing in his palms. Primed and ready to fire, Medrauta would be vaporized the moment those spheres touched her body.

Viviane reacted almost immediately, bringing her bow up to intercept the twin bolts of death that sped toward Medrauta. Though she caught Bastiche generating more spheres of destruction in her peripheral vision, there was nothing more important than protecting her knight at the moment.

Medrauta stopped mid-charge, whirling around as her instincts warned of approaching danger. Her eyes widened, but not in response to the approaching projectiles. Instead, her horrified gaze was fixed on none other than her precious lady.

“Viviane!!!”