A single whispered word filled the silent pause.

“...Why?”

“Hm? What is it, little mousey? You’re going to have to speak up if you want to chat.” Amelia turned her attention to Viviane, eyeing the blonde-haired noblewoman with the gaze of a predator.

“...I want to know why, Amelia.” Viviane said, raising her voice this time. She held the witch’s crimson glare without wavering, undaunted by Amelia’s sinister aura of bloodlust. “Was there a point to all this destruction and suffering... Or did you just do this because of some twisted whim?”

Amelia pursed her lips. For a moment, it seemed as though she was going to utter a snarky reply, but her next words only served to confuse Viviane. “What would you do if Medrauta died?”

“...What?” Viviane frowned, completely thrown off by Amelia’s seemingly random question. She had expected an answer or a sarcastic quip, not a question regarding Medrauta’s mortality.

“It’s a simple question, isn’t it? You’d cry, wouldn’t you, Viviane?” Amelia shrugged. “You’d miss her. You’d yearn for her presence once more. Her warmth. You’d dream of her every night, only to wake up to a world without her. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t see where you’re going with this.” Viviane said. “All I wanted to know was—”

“But what if I told you there was a way to bring her back from the dead?”

Viviane paused, considering the question. She recalled the final line of the prophecy Riku had divulged, but shook her head nevertheless. The prophecy had said that the Witch Queen would birth herself anew, but it was far more plausible to simply assume that it was referencing the rise of a new Witch Queen instead of reviving the one who ruled in ancient days.

After all, if it were truly possible to bring back the dead, the witches never would’ve lost to the witch hunters or the Paladins. They would’ve simply kept reviving each other until they were the only ones left standing.

“That’s impossible. You can’t bring someone back after they’ve died.”

Amelia shrugged. “Not normally, no. But we’ve been gifted with a specific set of circumstances. Circumstances that allowed this very prophecy to exist in the first place. So tell me, Viviane... If Medrauta was dead, but you possessed the means to revive her, would you do so?”

“Don’t listen to her bullshit, Vivi.” Medrauta cut in.

“Of course I would.” Viviane answered simply. If such a thing was truly possible, then she would stop at nothing to bring Medrauta back to her side. There was no other answer she could’ve given to such a question.

“Indeed. And it is the same for me, my dear Viviane.” Amelia said. “There is someone who I long to see once more. Someone who should still be by my side, yet her life was extinguished years ago. Tell me, Viviane... And you as well, Medrauta. You were there when it happened, after all.”

Medrauta’s eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent as she waited for Amelia to pose her question. Though she longed to leap forward and decapitate the witch, there was little she could do when the princess was bound and being held hostage at swordpoint.

“Is it really so wrong for me to revive my mother when I have the means to do so? My childhood was unjustly stolen from me by the witch hunts of the empire. I was the one who suffered alone with not even a single soul to care for me. I was but a child. I had done nothing, yet I had already committed the greatest sin merely by existing. This nation mercilessly hunted my kind, and it is only now that I seek to pay them back.” Amelia spoke with conviction, concluding her speech with a flourish of her sword, pointing it at Medrauta.

“So all of this... It was all for revenge...?” Viviane asked.

“It’s justice.”

“It’s bullshit is what it is.” Medrauta said. “I’ll tell you what, Amelia...”

“Hm?”

The moment she had drawn Amelia’s attention to herself, Medrauta exploded forward without warning. She closed the distance between herself and the witch within a fraction of a second, Medrauta’s blade swinging in an arc that perfectly intercepted Amelia’s before the witch could point her sword at the princess once more.

“Two things,” Medrauta said as she pressed hard against Amelia’s blade, locking their blades together. “One, your mother wasn’t the Witch Queen. Your bullshit sob story might’ve worked against anyone else, but I see through your lies. You don’t have anything to gain from this other than revenge. And two, you’re a coward.”

“Me? A coward? Surely you must be joking.” Amelia laughed. Although she had been caught off guard, she was quickly recovering and pushing the silver-haired knight backwards thanks to her mana-enhanced strength. Upon seeing this, Viviane hastened to bestow her Crest upon Medrauta, enveloping her knight in silver armor, but it was already too late.

With a mighty shove, Amelia sent Medrauta stumbling back, thrusting her sword at the knight’s exposed chest. Medrauta twisted out of the way, managing to raise her sword in time to deflect the wicked cut that Amelia issued as a follow-up attack. Medrauta stood across from Amelia now, adjusting her position as she assessed the witch’s next move.

“That’s right, Amelia. You’re a goddamn coward. Look at you. You’ve been hiding on top of this damn Spire the whole time and ruining people’s lives. All you’ve done is destroy the futures of innocents... And the worst part? You don’t even have the courage to do it yourself. Volutia, Galahad, and even Padraig. You’re the reason why they have to die now.”

Medrauta lunged forward with a thrust, issuing a quick attack that managed to pierce through Amelia’s shoulder and splatter her black blood against the floor before retreating. It seemed Viviane was devoting all her focus to enhancing her knight’s abilities, for the witch winced from the wound, her regeneration suppressed by the power of the Lake that was concentrated in Medrauta’s blade. 

“It’s a shame you’re so short-sighted, Medrauta.” Amelia said before issuing a counterattack of her own. The high-pitched sounds of clashing steel rang violently through the air. “The Witch Queen will be born anew, Medrauta. Don’t you know what that means?”

“No, and I don’t particularly care. Once I kill you, this’ll all be over.”

Amelia smirked, throwing herself at Medrauta as she delivered a sequence of aggressive cuts and thrusts without regard for her own safety. It was almost as if she was daring the silver-haired knight to follow through on her threat. “The rebirth of the Witch Queen is a delicate matter that requires all of my attention, Medrauta. Especially when I seek to replace the soul that will fill her vessel.”

Medrauta frowned, parrying Amelia’s latest strike. Something about those words sounded rather unnerving. “...What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you?” Amelia smirked. “Morgause isn’t the Witch Queen, yet according to the prophecy, it is the Witch Queen who will be born anew.”

Medrauta’s frown only deepened as she continued exchanging blows with the witch, neither of them giving ground. With the power of Viviane’s Crest coursing through her body, it seemed that she was rather evenly matched with Amelia, a fact that worried her intensely. She wanted to be overwhelmingly powerful and dominate the fight. She wanted to control its rhythm and decide when it would end.

With the finish line so close, Medrauta was almost in a rush to end it all in the hopes of returning to those idyllic days with Viviane by her side. But she knew that wasn’t possible just yet. Not with whatever Amelia was planning.

“Oh? Are you upset now that you’ve realized you were wrong?” Amelia laughed, swinging her sword wildly in dizzying combinations that forced Medrauta on the defensive momentarily. “I was speaking the truth, you know? Not all of this was for revenge... I truly do wish to revive my mother. It’s a shame I won’t be able to bring her body back, but I suppose I’ll have to settle for just her spirit.”

“If that’s all you want, then drop your sword. I’ll send you to her spirit right away.”

In response, Amelia simply cackled and unleashed yet another devastating barrage of attacks. Though Medrauta parried each cut and thrust with ease, it was clear that their back and forth exchanges were getting nowhere. It was time to take some risks.

The silver-haired knight’s eyes flickered away from her opponent for a moment, inspecting the rest of the room. Aside from the floating lanterns, the large cross behind her, and the throne, it was barren. There was what looked like a ritual circle at the foot of the throne where Gwenhwyfar still remained bound and prone, but there was otherwise nothing remarkable Medrauta could use as leverage against the witch.

Unless... Medrauta’s latest strike was a half-parry, half-cut that forced Amelia to step to the side, creating a void where she once stood and opening a path toward the princess. Without hesitation, Medrauta dashed forward in an attempt to reach Gwenhwyfar, but Amelia had long predicted this move.

The witch’s body burst into a swarm of butterflies that swept around Medrauta before reforming in front of her, barring the knight’s way.

“Naughty, naughty.” Amelia admonished, delivering a wide horizontal cut that forced Medrauta to leap back and distance herself from the princess once more. “I’m not ready to give her up just yet. After all, I have everything I need to complete the ritual right here. The only thing I’m missing... Is Viviane’s blood. No one else’s will do.”

“Vivi’s... blood?” Medrauta’s eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in anger. Of all the things she expected, Viviane being a significant part of Amelia’s ritual hadn’t been one of them. “It’s a shame, then. So long as I still breathe, I’ll never allow you to draw even a single drop of blood from my lady.”

Amelia’s lips split into a wicked grin. “We’ll see about that.”