Resentment. Remorse. Regret. Reconciliation. There was no meaning in any of those words.

For those who lived their lives dyed by the blood of combat, the only word that mattered was “revenge.”

Revenge for my weak yesterday, revenge for your strong tomorrow. Revenge for my loss, revenge for your gain. Revenge for my defeat, revenge for your victory. Every act of violence can be summed up simply through the simple word “revenge.”

Revenge for her mother.

Revenge for her lover.

An endless cycle of hatred that persisted for millenia now rushed toward its conclusion as Medrauta leapt upwards, her sword at the ready as she clashed against Amelia’s blade. Silver pushed against black, light against darkness.

The witch bore down on the knight with the force of her calamitous descent while the knight pushed upward desperately as if trying to reach the heavens. No greater goal guided their blades, nor did they act with the pretense of clashing swords for the sake of some lofty goal.

The time for such posturing had long passed. The only thing the two combatants understood now was bloodlust. It was a primal rage that would never be quelled so long as the other still drew breath. 

No longer did Medrauta wish to protect the empire.

No longer did Amelia wish to destroy the empire.

The only desire left for them now was the death of the other. That was the sole reason why Medrauta still held on to her blade so tightly despite the overwhelming strength that Amelia now wielded. 

The moment Amelia had abandoned her body to inhabit the empty vessel meant for the Witch Queen, she had become the Witch Queen herself. The prophecy had been fulfilled as the Witch Queen burst forth from her dead womb, her crimson eyes and stygian hair the symbols of a new era of darkness that she would usher in once she crushed the puny Paladin who dared stand in her way.

“Die!” Amelia screamed. “Why won’t you just fucking die!?”

The witch exhaled forcefully, commanding the space around her to expand and push Medrauta away. Because it was not a direct attack to her body, the Paladin’s Oath provided no protection against such witchcraft. 

Amelia raised her hand high in the air as Medrauta was pushed away, the light in her crimson glare flaring as she summoned a countless number of black lances that hummed with the power of ancient magic. They rained down upon the lone Paladin, burying her in a storm of darkness.

Amelia’s labored breath came heavily. Though she now wielded an almost limitless amount of mana thanks to the Witch Queen’s constitution, her knowledge of witchcraft was still lacking in comparison to the ancient monarch. It was for this reason that Medrauta still had a chance against Amelia.

The witch stared at the mass of black lances in disbelief as a sliver of blue burst forth from within their midst, creating a crack in the sea of darkness that soon expanded into a sky-piercing pillar that banished the umbral spears from existence. The pillar reached tall and mighty, annihilating the sphere of eternal night that cloaked the peak of the Spire they stood upon.

Amelia winced as sunlight suddenly flooded her vision, illuminating the entirety of the Spire and the clouds beneath it. Across from her, Medrauta advanced confidently, her body unscathed despite the overwhelming power unleashed upon her mere moments ago.

No longer did Clarent emit a pale blue glow that shielded only Medrauta. Instead, it now radiated from her body in effulgent waves of bright blue, a beautiful color that struck fear in Amelia’s unbeating heart as she stared at it with her crimson eyes. It was the color of the sky.

The color of freedom.

“...This isn’t over, Medrauta!” Amelia screeched. “I won’t... I won’t lose to you! I refuse! I am the Witch Queen!”

With a mighty wave of her hand, Amelia summoned forth yet another storm of spears, but Medrauta continued forward undaunted, allowing the power of her Oath to vaporize every single spear that dared near her body. Such rudimentary witchcraft no longer posed a threat.

Every step Medrauta took, forced Amelia to retreat another. But the witch would no longer do so. Her pride simply wouldn’t allow it. She was no longer just a simple witch, but the queen of all witches. The new Witch Queen who would birth a new era of terror for the sake of vengeance. Her mother’s soul had been forever destroyed, and not even Aluvsha could recover it.

The entire empire needed to pay. The entire continent needed to pay.

Calling upon the vast reserves of power hidden within the Witch Queen’s body, Amelia cast a spell out of desperation. She channeled every ounce of hatred she had built up throughout the years. Every fake smile she had to give, every pretense of joy, every false moment of happiness. She placed it all into this single spell.

And from it, a sword was born.

For swords were all she knew. As an orphan, she had pretended to awaken as a knight. It was her only escape from the life of a serf, and the only way she could connect herself with those she needed for her grand plan of revenge. She had lived by the sword, etching every technique and intricacy into her body meticulously so that none would ever discover her secret before the time was right.

And now, she would die by the sword.

The blade was black, a single red line running down the center of its length. Three red rings of varying sizes decorated the blade, one at its tip, one in the center, and one by the crimson crossguard. The blade’s opaque, light-devouring appearance was the antithesis of Caliburn, the light-bringing sword. It was a tool solely meant to convey the meaning of death, and it did so perfectly as Amelia brought it to bear against Medrauta’s latest attack.

Medrauta had issued a deceptively simple yet deadly horizontal cut to Amelia’s neck, seeking to behead her and end this charade at last. But the newly crowned Witch Queen refused to meet her end so easily. Instead, the violent sound of clashing steel exploded through the air once more as Paladin and witch met in melee.

Krssh!

Though Medrauta’s blade had held fast for several seconds, its mundane steel was no match for the sword of destruction even with the power of her Oath channeled through it. The stygian blade tore through the Paladin’s sword, shattering it irreparably as Amelia cleaved through it with her counterattack. An enormous gash opened up in Medrauta’s hip as Amelia completed her cut, blood bursting from the Paladin’s new wound.

Medrauta staggered back, wincing from the pain. Cut by the sword of destruction forged by Amelia’s pure hatred, the wound hurt far more than any other she had received before. It seared and bubbled as if she were being roasted on the inside, but even so, she clutched tightly onto the hilt of her shattered sword. Had her Oath still taken its original form as an impenetrable shield, perhaps it could have stopped even the blade of calamity.

But no longer was Clarent a promise of protection. In Medrauta’s hands, it was both a shield and a weapon. A tool to seek victory until she was granted her final breath and the right to join her beloved Viviane at last.

Medrauta settled into a defensive stance, raising the hilt of her broken sword before her as if it were still complete. The corner of Amelia’s eye twitched in response, an unmistakable fury burning in her eyes as she witnessed the Paladin’s last stand.

“...What the hell?” Amelia snarled. “Do you really think you still have a chance?”

“I do.” Medrauta answered, her voice ringing loud and clear. It was an answer that only served to infuriate the witch even more. “It’s not over as long as I’m still breathing.”

“Then die!” Amelia screamed, leaping at Medrauta with her sword raised high and ready to descend. 

In a single swing, she would bisect the weaponless Paladin and begin her reign of terror. In a single swing, she would finally avenge her mother’s death after so many years. In a single swing, she would claim victory at last.

But that moment would never come to pass.

....How?

Amelia stood dumbfounded as she stared at the one standing before her. They were an impossibility that never should have returned, yet they were the one stopping her from issuing her final blow. They were the one who had stolen her moment of triumph before it could even be born.

“...Did I keep you waiting?”

Tears fell uncontrollably from Medrauta’s eyes as she stared at the smile she thought she would never see ever again.

“...Viviane,” Medrauta whispered. She kept her voice soft and gentle, speaking carefully as if fearing her beloved Viviane would vanish should she speak too loud.

Viviane nodded. “...Yeah. It’s me. I’m sorry for worrying you, but... Everything’s going to be okay now.”

Medrauta nodded, sniffling. “Y-Yeah...!”

With the last of her strength, Merlynne had teleported Viviane to where she needed to be once she regained her consciousness. Viviane now stood in front of Medrauta, stopping Amelia’s sword of calamity with a single hand. It was only right that even the blade that heralded apocalypse could not cleave through the sword of legend.

“H-How!?” Amelia backpedaled rapidly as she tore her sword free from Viviane’s grasp. “I killed you! I definitely killed you! W-What the hell are you!?”

Viviane smiled, closing her eyes and bestowing her Crest upon Medrauta. The power of the Lake flooded through her knight’s body once more, a pillar of gold and silver light bursting forth from her position. Her Crest had metamorphosed into its final form, appearing as a golden sword overlaid atop a silver shield.

Medrauta stared in wonder as a suit of silver armor formed on her body, its gilded edges glowing with light and warmth that conveyed Viviane’s love for her. The wound on her hip closed, and she found herself abound with energy far greater than she had ever experienced. 

For a moment, she was even tempted to apologize to Amelia for destroying Morgause’s soul. There were likely other ways she could have interrupted the ritual, but she had chosen to permanently erase Morgause from the world out of revenge. It was a regrettable action and one she now felt remorse for after seeing Viviane alive, but she knew there would be no placating the new Witch Queen.

The only thing she could do was finish this fight.

“You know who I am, Amelia.” Viviane said. “I am Medrauta’s lady... and the love of her life.”

“H-Hey!” Medrauta blushed despite herself. She couldn’t believe that Viviane was flirting even in a situation like this, but somehow, she had a feeling everything would be fine.

“...I’ll just have to kill you again, then.” Amelia snarled. “Come, Medrauta! Let us finish this!”

Medrauta nodded, stepping in front of Viviane and advancing toward Amelia. She was still weaponless, but she would not shy away from Amelia’s challenge. Not in front of her lady.

“Medrauta!” Viviane shouted. “Catch!”

Medrauta whirled around at the sound of Viviane’s voice, only to see her lady thrust her hand into her own chest. A powerful light burst forth from the depths of Viviane’s body as she extracted the sword of legend, Caliburn. With an almost effortless toss, she sent the artifact flying through the air only to land perfectly in the palm of Medrauta’s outstretched hand.

CLANG!

Medrauta parried Amelia’s strike with frightening ease, wielding Caliburn so naturally that it seemed as though the sword had been forged purely for this moment. A surge of confidence rushed through the Paladin’s body as she pressed the attack, issuing a dizzying combination of strikes that opened wounds all across the Witch Queen’s body.

Amelia roared in rage, unconsciously commanding the nigh-infinite power of the Witch Queen in her anger. Reality bent and wept at the magnitude of her loss and fury. The sky itself turned crimson and the sun blackened, casting the world into a blood-drenched night. Countless arms exploded from her body, all of them wielding a copy of the sword of destruction forged from her undiluted hatred.

No longer was she Amelia, the new Witch Queen, but simply a monster who existed for the sole purpose of revenge. She no longer cared about what end she would meet or how she would achieve her vengeance. Medrauta’s death was all that mattered.

Amelia unleashed an inhuman screech that caused the crimson sky to crack, countless rifts opening and unleashing witchspawn terrors that rained down upon the brave knights and soldiers who still continued fighting below. The black sun pulsed, waves of corrupting light enhancing the accursed creatures’ abilities and Amelia’s own.

Yet, even in spite of this terrifying apocalyptic sight, Medrauta rushed toward Amelia without hesitation, her blue eyes clear and undaunted as they substituted the cerulean sky that had been lost. 

Blaze, my spirit!

She ignited Caliburn, calling upon the power vested in the sword of legend as she aimed its point at Amelia’s black heart.

Burn, my soul!

Viviane closed her eyes, unslinging her bow from her shoulder. Surprisingly, the weapon was still intact despite everything she had gone through. Slowly and deliberately, she nocked an arrow to the string.

For our future...

Medrauta ducked and weaved her way through the countless arms that swung violently at her, parrying the blades of calamity that sought solely to end her life. She drew her arm back, poised to thrust it straight into her target.

For our love...

Viviane brought her bow up, drawing the string back as she did so. Even with her eyes closed, she knew exactly where she must aim and when she must shoot. There was no room for error, but there was no room for fear in her heart either. Somehow, she knew she would not miss.

Our hearts beat as one, playing an unstoppable rhythm that will forge a future brighter than the Sun!

Medrauta’s blade pierced through Amelia’s body, but the witch’s mutations had closed off her heart from the world. Not even Caliburn could reach it. Even as Medrauta grit her teeth in frustration, Viviane’s arrow flew straight and true, cutting through the air like a veritable sword before striking Caliburn’s pommel with such force that it drove the sword deeper.

The arrow channeled the full power of the Lake through the blade, allowing it to cut through realms and realities, piercing even Amelia’s greatest defense and reaching her heart in the abyss where she had locked it away.

At last, the witch fell to her knees, the multitude of arms and blades sprouting forth from her body vanishing as fast as they appeared. The veil of darkness covering the sun was forced to surrender to its light, and the restrictive veneer of blood painted over the sky had no choice but to yield to its desire for freedom once more.

“A-Ah....” Amelia stared at Medrauta, her crimson eyes slowly regaining the light they once had before she witnessed the destruction of her mother’s soul and became the Witch Queen. “...I lost, didn’t I?”

Medrauta knelt down, meeting her old friend’s eyes. “...Yeah.”

The two remained silent for several moments as Amelia’s body began to dissolve. The power of the Lake coupled with the sword of legend had torn the very essence of her body asunder. Not even Aluvsha could save her now.

“...I’m sorry for killing your mother. Twice.” Medrauta said awkwardly.

Amelia stared at Medrauta, blinking. She had expected to spend her final moments in silence and regret, but instead she was given an apology that was so comical and belated, she had no other choice but to laugh. “...We never did get to finish that duel of ours, did we?”

Medrauta grinned, recalling the moments she had spent with Amelia at Avalyne Academy. They had been exceptionally brief, but during those times, she could still call the black-haired knight her friend. They had only dueled once, but the result was never decided due to an unfortunate interruption.

“No. I suppose not.”

With that final exchange, Amelia’s consciousness left her. Her body slipped free from Caliburn’s gilded blade, and Medrauta laid her gently on the floor. As the sound of Viviane’s footsteps echoed from behind Medrauta, the knight rose to greet her lady.

“...It’s finally over, Vivi.”

Viviane nodded, smiling. “Yeah.”

“There’ll be a lot of cleaning up to do.”

“...I think we’ve done enough ‘cleaning up’ for a while, don’t you? For now, I... want to focus on us. I want to focus on our future.”

Medrauta blushed, understanding exactly what Viviane was trying to imply. It would be difficult given the empire’s policies and the current state it was in, but they had friends in foreign lands and powerful allies. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it would be difficult.

Viviane nudged Medrauta, a smile forming on her lips as she watched her knight’s expression. “But that’s for later. Right now, I just want to take a long, long vacation with you.”

“...Then let’s do exactly that, Vivi.”

As the last vestiges of Amelia's dissolving corpse were carried away by the wind, Medrauta found herself holding Viviane's hand once more.

Hand in hand, the two watched as the sun set on the Avalyne Empire. 

Though night was coming, they knew there would be a brighter tomorrow.