Morgana’s lips moved.

The flaming drill stopped.

It was an impossibility, but still it occurred. The flawless attack that was meant to pierce through even the greatest defense had been stopped in its tracks, unable to continue its unstoppable journey of violence.

A blue light pulsed faintly around Morgana’s body as she called upon the power of her Oath. It was an ancient Oath that her parents had bestowed upon her, and one she awakened after swearing her fealty to the people she strove to protect.

Clarent. It was an Oath that manifested when its name was called, and its power embodied the meaning of its name. No attack would be able to pass through its bearer, nor could they be harmed. This was Morgana’s ultimate trump card and the very thing that defined her as a person, for it turned her into the ideal that she strove to become: a living shield for her people.

“Clarent.” Morgana whispered again, as if affirming its power.

“W-What is this...!?” Soleil backed away frantically, unable to process the fact that her seemingly foolproof attack had somehow been stopped. “Was this your Oath all along...?”

“Come, Soleil.” Morgana flourished her sword, centering its tip on Soleil’s chest. “Allow me to extinguish those flames you are so proud of.”

“Morgana...!” Soleil expression of shock twisted into one of frustration. “Why must you reject me at every turn!?”

Morgana dashed forward, ignoring the threat of Soleil’s flames. With the power of Clarent, there was no longer any need for her to fight defensively. A master swordswoman in all aspects of the word, Clarent allowed her to fully commit herself to offense. It was rather ironic given the defensive nature of her Oath, but it was through becoming a living shield that the true extent of her blademastery could be displayed.

Soleil staggered back with the sheer speed and force of Morgana’s sudden attack, each strike of the Paladin’s driving her back with increasing speed. With each passing second, the threat of imminent defeat loomed ever closer for Soleil, forcing her to disengage from Morgana by parrying the Paladin’s latest strike and using the force to push herself backwards in a lengthy leap.

The committal retreat wounded her pride severely, but Soleil wasn’t done yet. Covered in over two dozen cuts, her lone eye that remained open burned with a fierce determination unlike any other. Far from admitting defeat despite Morgana’s invulnerability, Soleil prepared the last trick up her sleeve.

“Why must I reject you, Soleil?” Morgana said, drawing her arm back to deliver a powerful thrust that would end the duel. “Because I see through you. Your ambitions. Your dreams. Even your pride. You are naught but a child flailing around with a sword far too big for your hands.”

“...What?”

“Ending the Witch Queen’s tyranny isn’t your goal, is it?”

“W-What the hell are you talking about, Morgana!? Of course it is!” Soleil snapped.

“If that were true, then you would have stopped trying to convince me of your plan already. As much as I loathe to admit it, even the Paladins of the Chelate Order have been won over by your charisma already. They would follow you into battle without hesitation.”

“...You don’t know that.”

“You don’t need me.” Morgana thrust her sword forward. “You never did.”

“...What the hell do you know?” Soleil grit her teeth, closing her eyes even as the tip of Morgana’s blade raced toward the center of her chest. In another second, it would pierce through her breastplate.

And so it did.

Soleil stood with her head lowered as the full length of Morgana’s sword buried itself in the center of her chest. Waves of searing pain shot through her body, but even that pure agony distilled by the steel of Morgana’s blade could not compare to the turmoil of emotions tormenting her heart.

“It’s over.” Morgana said, moving to pull her sword out of Soleil’s chest.

Soleil raised a single hand, gripping the blade impaling her and holding it in place. She turned her head to the side, spitting out a thick globule of blood that splattered onto the gray wasteland, melding with the pulverized stone beneath her feet as it turned a deep ochre.

“I have won, Soleil. Now release my sword, for I do not seek to take your life.”

Soleil’s shoulders trembled, her brow furrowing deeply. She forced her eyes to remain shut, as if she were holding back tears. “...You don’t understand, Morgana. You don’t understand a single thing.”

“...What?”

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Soleil shook her head. There were so many things she wanted to say to Morgana, but she knew none of them would convince the stubborn Paladin of her cause. In the end, there was only one thing she could do.

“...Caliburn.” Soleil intoned. Her sword shivered in response, emitting a high-pitched tone that rang loudly in the air.

Morgana winced at the sound, stumbling back as she covered her ears. She tugged her sword free of Soleil’s grasp, the cold steel of its blade sliding out of the witch hunter’s chest. The pain caused by the weapon’s exit must’ve been excruciating, yet Soleil did not so much utter a single sound.

Instead, she merely placed a hand over the gaping wound.

“Ignite.”

Soleil glared at Morgana with her single open eye, its golden hue brimming with an unquenchable light. She moved her hand aside to reveal her wound once more, and what poured forth was not blood, but flame.

From every open wound came golden embers that shot forth, spilling across air and earth as they brought light and color to all things they touched. Blades of golden grass sprouted from the dead wasteland of the earth as the tiny specks of flame alighted upon the rocky ground, beautiful and resplendent flowers blooming in the wake of Soleil’s advance toward the stunned Morgana.

The deadly gray mist that plagued the air they breathed dispersed rapidly in the wrath of Soleil’s radiance, her resplendent flames purifying the very world as she made her way through it. It was a power that equaled the Witch Queen’s ability to corrupt and taint all she touched, but such power came at a price and only those worthy of it could wield such greatness.

“Caliburn.” Soleil spoke again, causing that same ear-splitting yet somehow beautiful harmony to echo through the air. “Breathe.”

The clouds above parted, perhaps for the first time in centuries or even millennia within the shadowed lands of the mana wastes, bringing true sunlight to the otherwise lightless wasteland. Luminous rays fell from the heavens above, paving Soleil’s path with a righteous radiance that only she could create.

“So that’s why you were so confident...” Morgana stared at Caliburn in shock. The weapon’s translucent form had disappeared, replaced by a pristine blade of silver that bore gilded edges and an ornate hilt encrusted with jewels resembling the most radiant of topazes.

“Part of me wished I didn’t have to use it.” Soleil admitted. “But yes. I have been chosen by Caliburn. I just wish...”

Soleil’s voice trailed off as she stopped before Morgana, averting her eyes. For reasons unknown to the Paladin, a shade of crimson crept into the witch hunter’s cheeks ever so faintly. The two stood in silence, unmoving as they realized the result of the duel had already been decided.

“...Will you surrender, Morgana?”

“No. I will fight until the end.”

“So be it.” Soleil raised her weapon almost hesitantly. The legendary sword Caliburn hummed with the movement, as if expressing its approval.

The silver-gold sword cut through the air, a trail of golden flames following in its wake. It clashed against Morgana’s humble blade, sending sparks flying through the air from the mere force of their encounter.

“Even more than before, I must stop you, Soleil.”

“...Why?” Soleil roared, the pain evident in her voice. “Is it not enough that I have been chosen by Caliburn!? Is it not enough that I have passed its trials!? That I have managed to lay my eyes upon its form, which has not been seen by any within the past millennia!?”

Morgana did not respond. Instead, she merely allowed Caliburn to fall upon her body, the legendary weapon chipping away at the invulnerability her Oath granted. So long as it held firm, no weapon, mortal or divine, would conquer her body.

She issued a series of fierce counterattacks, all of them made at blistering speeds that even Soleil was hard-pressed to defend against despite being empowered by both Caliburn and her Sigil. With each cut and thrust she issued, Morgana could feel the confidence flowing back into her body and her stride. Each forward step she took drove her to move ever faster and swing ever stronger, hoping to overcome the strength of the legendary sword.

“You have no idea what I’ve sacrificed for this!” Soleil snarled as she stopped Morgana’s latest strike, locking their blades together as she pushed hard against the Paladin. “I’ve done everything I could! Gave everything I could! All to overthrow the—”

“No. You haven’t.” Morgana said calmly, locking eyes with Soleil. She pushed back just as powerfully, feeling the strength of her Oath wane as Caliburn’s flames licked around her body.

“How... How can you say that, Morgana!? Do you even know what I suffered just to obtain this damned sword!?”

“...I am well aware of Caliburn’s price, Soleil. I do not wish to see you lose yourself all for a lie.”

“I have never lied to you.” Soleil retorted, frustrated at Morgana’s insistence. Although her anger appeared to be directed to the Paladin, she was the one who understood best what Morgana meant. Indeed, her opponent had been right all along.

“I will remember you as you are, Soleil. That I swear.”

As those words fell from Morgana’s lips, so too did her blade fall to the ground. Soleil lurched forward, caught off-guard by the sudden loss of resistance, stumbling for a moment before she looked up and found Caliburn resting against Morgana’s collarbone, its razor sharp blade drawing a single crimson line across the otherwise pristine skin of her neck.

“W-What...? What are you saying, Morgana?” Soleil asked, her eyes wide with shock.

“I no longer wish to fight you.” Morgana said, stepping away from Soleil and crouching down to pick up her sword. She promptly wiped the blood off its blade and sheathed it.

“This means you lost, right...? You will be coming tomorrow?”

Morgana didn’t speak. There was no need. The sadness and regret in her smile was more than enough to convey her message.

“...I see. Farewell, Morgana.”

It was only when Morgana walked past her that Soleil finally allowed the first of many tears to fall, the transparent droplets crashing down upon the tiny utopia she had managed to create in these blasted lands. They wet the earth and slaked the thirst of the newly sprung flowers, but nothing could sate the loneliness and longing in her heart.

Through blurry vision, she gazed at Caliburn’s blade, its strength and beauty second only to one. The sword shivered, its vibrations pulsing through Soleil’s arm as if trying to tell her something.

Soleil shook her head bitterly in response.

Yes. You chose me, but I just wish... I just wish she would choose me too.