act13d5

卡西米尔 7上

...The match started already.

I've got to... mm?

Wait, why is my sword here?

Ah, Miss Maria brought it over earlier.

She said she already gave it some adjustments, too. She guarantees it should be like new.

Byah—!

Mm... light and limber. I've missed this feeling.

P-Please be careful! Oh, my, you've broken the balustrade again! We just had the stonesmith repair that in the Victorian style last year...

Oh, you may as well just have someone renovate the whole place. In fact, you're in charge of that.

Really, another one of your whims?

As long as someone can live in it...

Miss?

...Ah, no, I just... feel like I miss something, suddenly.

This sword... Maria's grandfather gave it to me.

Miss Maria calls you an aunt, doesn't she?

Family hierarchy is one unending wordy mess. I still remember how Margaret put it—'This is your... your... you know what, she's your auntie.'

I'm only about as old as them, aren't I? Really—auntie?

You're very young. So young, and managing such a family enterprise. We take great pride in you, Miss Zofia.

I snapped up all this land in one breath. Oh, back then, was I thinking I'd prove myself as well? Prove myself worthy of the 'Nearl' name, maybe? Worthy of the Radiant Knight...

No... now's no time to pine for the past.

The car is all ready for you. Or do you think running there yourself might be faster?

I think that's obvious—

Just like a hunter toying with his prey, the Left-hand Knight keeps letting his foe gather herself and try again, and each time, he strikes Maria Nearl back down!

Marcin! We're back! How's it going?!

Why's Maria up against someone at that goddamned level? Has the Association gone mad?!

That'll be a long story... Are those kids safe?

For the moment, can say that much. But they already got legal knighthood stripped right off them. Pfeh.

Never thought I'd see things get so goddarned out of hand...

Ashlock, Flametail, two other Infected knights without titles, and all the Infected they bought back from the arenas using everything they had...

Fighters! And the people toying with those Infected for fun—for god's sakes, they're all children! Their oldest was only twenty! Youngest was barely—!

Even if they hid themselves in the pipelines, just one full day in city bounds and their safety'd be out the window. Not to mention the crowd we have now.

I got some old friends to look after them, but the Infected are Infected, still. Wish things'd be simple as that.

...We're not just picking a fight with the companies, now.

Scared?

Scared?! Wasn't even scared when the Ursus were holding spears to my mouth! I'm a goddamned Ursus myself!

Fiddlesticks! When'd the Craftsmen ever get off those city walls?

Huh?! Instead of running up there, you think we should've just sat in the smithy and let the catapult smash all of us flat too?

...Maria can't win this.

Aye. The Maria we know facing a foe like that, just ain't no way she'll win.

No, not that there's no way. I mean she just can't.

Knights Association have played their hand too hard now. Add in that rotten Czarny popping up, and there's no way it can go ahead that simple.

Nnh...!

(My... my arm's about to dislocate... his spear—I can't get close at all—)

(—No, even if I did, there's still no way I'd win... what do I do...?)

...Up.

Continue.

(Grit my teeth, and get up.) Nngh...

On the verge of toppling? You really are the image of your 'family knighthood,' struggling for breath.

Up. Continue. The best way to stamp out a knight is to stamp out her dignity.

He taunts! He taunts, over and over! A look of disdain and victory in one, aimed square at his opponent! 'Left-hand' Tytus will make your blood run cold!

Now the prize pool's leaning completely one way, and the odds and figures are both out of control! Don't blink, but the money right now's gotta be on par with every other arena in Kazimierz combined!

Hey! Give it all you've got, Nearl! If you pull it outta the bag somehow, I'll win enough to buy a whole castle!

Are you nuts? How much money did you put on her?

—I put down even more on Left-hand! But I'm making nothing the way this is going, so I'm just hedging my bets a little!

Hgghh... hah... hah...

A visionary without a vision... wants to be a knight too.

I won't kill you. Forfeit. The times of old will not fade for having done so. Abandon this, and you abandon only yourself.

Are you... sympathizing with me?

—Correct. As you do not deserve for me to treat you as a knight.

I've seen footage of your fights. From Szewczyk, through the race, the melee...

I went out of my way to observe 'the Nearl family's new knight,' and every lucky victory of yours was a personal affront to me—look at you. You had the gall to waste my time like this?

Ughh—!

Stand firm, Maria Nearl. I will tell you the worlds that separate you and the Radiant Knight.

Her shining light could drown her opponent's will. Her sheer passion made me tremble. Her sheer talent made others envy her.

And you—victory against you is trivial. I will extinguish your resolve, to a pile of ash.

Airtime! Tytus has once against sent Maria's weapon flying!

Oh, man, this loop of devastation is too much bear, but no problem! The arena isn't just to let flesh and blood fly—it lets knights go on a rampage of pure strength!

Taunting! Pressuring! Destroying! This is 'Left-hand' Tytus, mercilessly disposing of the weak!

(So forceful...! And my shield split apart?! This is the one Margaret left!)

(Traces of Arts on the edge of his blade—his Arts—)

Ugh!

The Radiant Knight had not the Black Knight's strength, nor the Blood Knight's menace. She went against the lowest tier of the Major, and became champion by no more than a fluke—

—Even if I console myself so, I still know deeply the chasm that separated us. Against her, I have only pity for you, seeing your weakness.

I might not... compare to my sister...

But I am still—a Nearl family knight!

...Eyesore.

(One flick of his hand—?!)

Enough! Insult me no longer with the Arts you used on Ingra!

Ungh... ugh...

Do not rise again. No matter your armor's resilience, your pain must be excruciating.

You silently raise your arm again. Your tenacity at least deserves recognition.

Sorry, sorry—make way, make way!

I can finally see her...

...Maria.

What now? You have not even the energy to speak?

Your breaths come wild, your stance is empty... what path to victory could you even speak of?

What—mnph.

The noble knight, the commercial leviathan, the veteran of the Major, Tytus Topola, once more narrows his eyes—

—to the light that pierces them.