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*Cough* *cough*... *cough*.

(My wounds are rotting, I can't heal them...! Losing blood... It's cold...)

Faster than Mr. Szewczyk... Bigger than Mr. Ingra...

These two——

Should I forfeit?

No, just hold on, I can still——

...Hit. She should have fainted. You, go.

Guh... Boring fight... Just smash her head in.

Go, quickly!

...The Sarkaz raises his weapon up high.

The sun shines brightly on the girl trying to regain her balance.

Ugh, *cough*...

The blood on the ground, the metallic taste in her mouth, ears buzzing, head spinning, the fragrance of dirt after rain.

She tries to support her body with her hands, but gives in to the intense pain.

(Old wounds... Hands...!)

Guh... It's over.

Nnng...

Maria lies on the ground, unmoving. This sorrowful scene is reflected in the Sarkaz knight's emotionless eyes.

Suddenly, her vision brightens.

Perhaps the clouds blocking out the sun have dissipated, or perhaps the angle of the sunlight just happened to pass through the building's shade.

The next moment——He hears a thunderous sound. All the cells in his body are warning him, telling him that he must act immediately, that he must strike this defenseless little knight——

His vision brightens even more.

At the same time, the warhammer in his hand flies off, knocked away by someone.

卡西米尔 8下

There is an old man in the audience.

This old man has not a speck of interest in competition knights. At the behest of his beloved grandchild, he has grudgingly purchased two tickets to the event so hyped up by the newspapers and media.

He frowns, he sighs, for he does not know why the crowd cheers for the public execution of the young Kuranta by the Sarkaz.

He does not think anything is wrong, for he too was once a knight, a campaign knight without a noble title. He merely scoffs at the competition, at the Sarkaz.

Yet, the battlefield suddenly flares with a blazing light. The old man remembers that the knight is the young lady of the Nearl family.

What a pity, he laments as he stares at the dazzling light. At the same time, the very few Kazimierz present in the audience simultaneously recall an old story.

The story takes place in a land beyond rivers, forests and lakes, in a great fortress formed of towers and walls.

Every day, as night falls, blazing torches form an unbroken line. The campaign knights' armor gleams beneath the moonlight, the sharp edges of their silver lances point at the restless enemy prowling in the darkness.

The invaders are ruthless. The Leithanians, capable of coloring the sky, black out the moon. The terrible armies of Ursus overwhelm the castle walls.

Cities are captured and brought into Ursus in humiliation. The lines fall back once and again, as 'Silverlance' becomes a mocking joke leveled at the knights by the warmongers.

They are pushed to the outskirts of the last city, the last line of defense——

——Where Kazimierz makes its last stand, a pegasus with golden hair appears.

On the dawn of that day, when the Ursus suffer their first defeat of the war, on the faraway horizon of Kazimierz, two suns rise.

Light.

The light does not dissipate. Rays of light diffuse into a haze, banishing the terror.

At this moment, even the sun itself nods, welcoming the returning knight.

...Maria.

Stand up, Maria.

......Margaret?

Maria.

You've grown up. You've really done well.

No... That's not Maria's Arts...

What happened?

Mr. Czarny! We just received a message from——the Armorless Union! A beam of light crashed into the arena from a kilometer away northwest!

It was very, very fast! They couldn't even get a glimpse of what it was!

...Terrorist attack?

I-It doesn't seem like a weapon. It's a person, a Kuranta, but only the strongest knights are able to handle speed like that——

...No.

Impossible... Light... Could it be...

Guh... Where's the enemy? Too bright, can't see...!

Mission, must be completed. No matter who——kill the target first!

Guh....!

Knocked off my feet... barehanded...? Who?

Foul Arts and tortured Sarkaz Infected. Is this what a 'knight' should be?

Gaa...

Margaret...?

Wait... Is it really you? I'm not hallucinating, am I...?

It's me.

R... Really?

Yes.

......Margaret?

You've done well, Maria.

*Sob*... Margaret... What... What took you so long...?

...Wretch! Kill them both!

No, don't even think about it.

Why... Why can't I hit her...?

...Her light is gathering and suppressing our Arts. Retreat. I will deal with her.

It's her——She came in that light. It's——that's——that's the Radiant Knight!

What's going on?! The exiled Radiant Knight returns at the climax of this fight!

(Hey! Go get the spokesman! What the hell is going on?! What——Huh?)

Sh-She broke the rules! But that's not important! To save her sister, the Radiant Knight did whatever it took to return to Kazimierz!

Exceptional courage! Extraordinary demeanor! Unrelenting in the face of the two knights from hell!

Let us cheer——for the Radiant Knight!

That's... Margaret? That knight with the shield is the Radiant Knight...?

W-Why did she come back to Kazimierz...?

I don't even recognize her anymore...

...It's her. What has she been through all these years...?

*Sigh*...

The Radiant Knight, that spirited Margaret... She's returned?

Huff...... Just be a dear and let us through.

Sorry. No can do.

So we gotta put our lives on the line then, eh?

I'd really rather you didn't.

I'll say it again: there's nothing you can do. I live by a rule, I don't fight with anyone but my target.

As long as you stay away from the arena, you get to live——Hm?

——It's getting bright?

Hey! V, look over there!

What...

That light... that...

Old Man Nearl...?

(This is a lot more intense than Maria's Arts. Could it be...?)

(But... The two Lazurites... It can't be...)

Hm.

It's me.

Time to stop playing, little pegasus. Pack up and skedaddle.

...What?