“That’s not a fucking name.”

Medrauta’s retort had shot out of her lips almost instantly, causing herself to mentally berate herself immediately after. Whoever the “Walpurgisknight” was, they were certainly a formidable opponent and one that was not to be taunted lightly, especially given their apparent ability to completely ignore an arrow to the head without even the slightest hint of pain.

“No. But it is mine.” The Walpurgisknight replied calmly, resting his greatsword on his shoulder as he advanced toward Medrauta’s position, threatening to bring the gargantuan weapon down on the silver-haired knight.

Medrauta stepped backward slightly, taking care to pay attention to the space that she gave up in order to maintain the distance between her opponent and Viviane. Though they no longer fought in the match stadium, Medrauta’s job to protect her lady hadn’t changed at all. The silver-haired knight raised her sword in anticipation for the black-clad warrior’s attack, but the downward slash never came.

Instead, the Walpurgisknight accelerated abruptly, leading his charge with his armored shoulder. The heavy pauldron was covered in multiple sharp spikes shaped similarly to spearheads, and Medrauta was fairly certain they were made to be just as solid and reliable as well. Although such additions would normally be unnecessary and perhaps even dangerous, the Walpurgisknight leveraged the features of his armor perfectly, forcing Medrauta to twist to the side in an effort to avoid the potentially deadly charge.

Only then did the crushing cut come crashing down from above. Off-balance and still recovering from her last-second dodge, Medrauta was forced to withstand the full force of the Walpurgisknight’s attack as she hastily flicked her sword in position to block. The strike fell with the power of an apocalyptic avalanche, nearly bringing Medrauta to her knees from the mere effort of blocking it directly.

Had she been able to slant her sword and redirect the force of the attack like she usually did, even an attack of such caliber would be nothing more than child’s play for Medrauta. However, the Walpurgisknight’s expert mastery of combat had severely disrupted the silver-haired knight’s rhythm, forcing her to endure the devastating strike.

“Medrauta!” Viviane’s bow sang its deep-throated hum as it spat a storm of arrows in rapid succession, each one of them burying itself in the gaps of the Walpurgisknight’s armor. The noblewoman had focused specifically on the armored knight’s exposed underarm, firing several arrows in a tightly packed line that simulated a cut from a blade. “Let’s get out of here!”

Despite the Walpurgisknight’s overpowering strength, he was still limited to the confines of his biology, and though his wounds regenerated quickly, the simultaneous impact of the arrows had caused the muscles in his underarm to snap.

No longer under the immense pressure of the Walpurgisknight’s attack, Medrauta quickly pushed the greatsword away from herself and retreated rapidly, positioning herself further away from her opponent than she would’ve liked. “We can’t, Vivi! Look at his pommel! If we leave, he’s just going to make another damn sphere!”

It had been a long, long while since she’d been pushed back so greatly, and while any other knight likely would have only retreated slightly out of pride, Medrauta understood the need to give herself ample recovery time if she was to score a victory against her formidable opponent.

Unfortunately for Medrauta, the Walpurgisknight had no intention of allowing her to rest. Viviane’s arrows clattered to the ground as they were pushed out by the black-clad knight’s flesh, allowing him to advance unhindered as he leveled his blade toward Medrauta once more. Instead of issuing a horizontal or vertical cut, the Walpurgisknight had once again decided to commit to a charging thrust.

Medrauta exhaled deeply, focusing her senses entirely on the Walpurgisknight. Although a thrust didn’t carry as much weight and power as a cut, it was the fastest and most direct form of attack, and her opponent certainly didn’t waste any time proving it. Medrauta could feel the rush of air generated by the Walpurgisknight’s charge even as his black blade pierced through the air. She had been caught off guard the first time, but she was ready now.

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Clang!

The bright steel of Medrauta’s sword met the lightless blade of her opponent’s as her wrist flicked into position at the opportune moment. Neither too fast nor too slow, Medrauta’s parry deflected the Walpurgisknight’s thrust at an angle, redirecting the heavily armored knight’s momentum and leaving him open to a counterattack that Medrauta quickly issued.

Her silver blade bit deeply into the stygian armor of the Walpurgisknight’s breastplate, tearing through its defenses and drawing blood with ease. When Medrauta pulled her weapon free, a bright red liquid dripped from its previously pristine blade, surprising her slightly. Based on her opponent’s incredible resilience to pain and the speed of their regeneration, she had expected the Walpurgisknight to bleed black like the witchspawn below.

“...Very good.” The Walpurgisknight rasped, advancing undaunted as Medrauta attempted to create some distance between them. He hefted his greatsword on his shoulder once more as if a black behemoth rearing its head to strike.

Medrauta frowned, not expecting the compliment from her opponent. Sure enough, there was something utterly strange about the Walpurgisknight not only in their mannerisms, but also the way they fought. The quick and efficient movements that her opponent used reminded Medrauta of her own, but there was something even stranger that she had only just realized after dealing what should’ve been a grievous wound to the black-clad knight.

“...Medrauta. Isn’t it weird?” Viviane said. It seemed she’d noticed as well. “How is he regenerating?”

Medrauta grit her teeth, shaking her head in answer. She had no idea either, and although it was something that she should’ve noticed the moment the Walpurgisknight managed to withstand an arrow to the head without consequence, the danger and severity of the situation had demanded she focus on their immediate safety before anything else.

Now that they finally noticed the Walpurgisknight’s supposed immunity to Viviane’s newfound ability of negating the regeneration that Amelia was capable of bestowing upon her followers, Medrauta simply couldn’t keep her mind off it. After all, their chances of victory had just dropped significantly.

Despite that, Medrauta wouldn’t allow herself to despair. Her eyes darted across the towering figure, inspecting her advancing opponent’s stance and armor as she attempted to formulate a plan that would somehow grant her victory. The silver-haired knight knew that the only way to defeat someone who was granted pseudo-immortality by a witch was to decapitate them, but she simply couldn’t see herself doing that against the Walpurgisknight.

The black-clad knight stepped forward powerfully, his armored greaves causing the stone where he stepped to crack as he allowed the colossal weapon on his shoulder to fall, descending with the force of a collapsing mountain as it drew a wicked downward arc at Medrauta’s exposed head.

“Ugh!” Medrauta grunted as she hastily raised her sword to parry the Walpurgisknight’s downward cut, angling her sword and deflecting the blow to the side. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d allowed herself to become distracted in the midst of battle, forcing her to retreat despite her successful parry.

She shook her head, clearing her mind as she adjusted her stance and squared off against the Walpurgisknight. For some reason, the armored knight hadn’t issued a follow-up attack to catch Medrauta during her retreat, nor did he show any signs of initiating a charge in the hopes of unbalancing the silver-haired knight once more. Instead, he merely stepped forward again, positioning himself in front of Medrauta menacingly.

“Focus.” The Walpurgisknight boomed. He didn’t even bother raising his sword as he continued advancing toward Medrauta’s position, allowing the weapon to emit a bloodcurdling shriek as it was dragged violently against the stone floor before accelerating rapidly, preparing to ascend in a vicious upward cut that would no doubt bisect Medrauta should it connect.

This time, Medrauta didn’t wait. Forming a plan within the span of a second, the silver-haired knight darted forward even as sparks flew around the Walpurgisknight’s ascending blade. Behind her, Viviane’s eyes widened, their golden depths fraught with grief and concern as she watched Medrauta throw herself forward in what seemed like a suicidal maneuver.

Thirsty for blood, the Walpurgisknight’s blade continued its upward arc, its abyssal surface devouring the last rays of light from the setting sun with voracious hunger. Medrauta’s blue eyes blazed as they stared into the crimson flames of the Walpurgisknight’s, her silver sword gleaming brightly as it shot a straight path toward the center of her opponent’s chest.

It was obvious that the stygian sword would reach its target before Medrauta’s blow connected, but somehow, she didn’t feel worried at all.

The silver-haired knight’s lips split into a fierce grin despite being faced with the prospect of death. She hadn’t communicated anything to Viviane, nor did she signal her lady. There hadn’t been time. In fact, her actions had probably caused Viviane a great deal of worry and fear. For that, Medrauta could only apologize afterwards... But at this moment, she believed.

She believed that her lady would find the path to victory.