act13side

Clear weather. No wind. A fine day for shooting.

Targets: the two leaders of Rhodes Island - one hooded person of unknown race, and one Cautus.

Mood... Very bad. Because every time I try to do my work, someone gets in my way.

Addendum. Extremely bad mood.

Do you have a habit of keeping a diary?

Who would deliberately write these things down? Might as well send it to the Adeptus Sprawiedliwi Kazimierz and ask for a speedier sentence.

By the looks of things, you're the type of person who brings her baggage with her to work.

Confessarius, the Radiant Knight, and that Cautus who gives off strange vibes.

What the hell is Rhodes Island supposed to be anyway?

I never had a chance to ask you before, but... You people...

Where did you hear the name 'Confessarius'?

Monique has seen the skills of the Sarkaz before her.

Excellent swordsmanship. Complex, seemingly incomprehensible Originium Arts - perhaps witchcraft. Along with the Radiant Knight, she was able to block a Darksteel arrow.

She had a suspicion at the time, that perhaps... 'blocking arrows' was not the full extent of the Sarkaz's abilities.

But now, she is convinced of one thing.

...I can't tell you that.

I'm also not so kind-hearted that I can just watch an assassin take aim at the Doctor and Amiya, and then let her walk free.

Besides, the last time we met, we didn't get a chance to introduce ourselves properly. A bit rude on both our parts.

An aura...?

Why are all of the Radiant Knight's buddies so shiny and sparkly? I'm getting tired of that aesthetic.

(It's a comforting glow... Almost no hints of aggression... Is this Sarkaz witchcraft?)

(No...)

(Her expression... Does she lament drawing her sword?)

Not in the mood to chat?

Very well then. Let's find out just what you're worth.

Wh-What just happened...?

Are my eyes playing tricks on me? A black mist is rising from the arena – While that isn't too unusual, do you see something rising from the mist?

Is that... a banner? Wait, that's... an entire army?!

Is that... the product of your obsession?

A shame...

A shame that those knights watching from the stands cannot fathom how I how I feel right now.

The flag flutters, the horn sounds, an army marches... An entire people, an entire history.

But––

––is this the reason you've given up the present, to seek out death like a madman?

––Hraaaagh!

The Nightzmora knight launched an attack! B-But with the thick black mist enveloping the arena, I can't see what's going on!

Is that something charging forward inside the mist?! Is this Nightmare Knight's true Arts? The ability to summon his ancestors?!

Ridiculous.

You lack the courage to face your fate.

The Blood Knight brings down his axe. He knows he is not facing an ancient Kheshig army.

A young man who seeks his own annihilation.

A young man who tries to bring back a bygone era.

The jet-black mist drowns the sanguine armor of the Blood Knight.

From the impact, from the pain, it is clear that the summoned entities are not illusions or holograms.

The Blood Knight continues to stand motionless. He is waiting. Waiting for the moment when the real Nightzmora will strike.

(Ancient language) Sleep now, hero!

The Blood Knight lets out a grunt.

Even Kazimierz's strongest armor wails in this moment.

Blade cleaves through armor, and even the sturdy Blood Knight is almost forced to take a knee.

Damn... Only a flesh wound?

You were able to cut me.

But my blood is now on your weapon.

(A trap––?!)

Don't feel bad. Your lack of combat experience has always been your weakness.

You are still a far cry from the so-called 'Kheshig.'

The sight of you and the Radiant Knight blocking Darksteel's arrow made a deep impression. Even a Silverlance Pegasus would have trouble withstanding Darksteel's punishment.

My sources tell me you and the Radiant Knight call yourselves the 'Followers,' an organization that treats the Infected.

A 'physician,' huh? Looks like I need to toss that informant of mine into the gloompincer cage.

Unfortunately, I'm not fond of fighting.

Is that so?

I used to be in the Victorian army.

Because I was just a commoner without noble blood, I couldn't become an officer. The K.G.C.C. ended up poaching me during a joint military exercise.

At that time, my old bosses were still rejoicing over one fewer thorn in their sides.

So, I'm quite confident in my aim.

From this distance, take three of my arrows head on, and I'll drop my plans for Rhodes Island. Deal?

Why should I trust you?

Whether or not you do is up to you. The Armorless Union has no shortage of ways to deal with Rhodes Island.

For example, we could've applied some volatile chemicals to those dolls that they're clutching so unsuspectingly right now...

Don't give me that look. Anyone could arrange something like that.

Three shots.

Three shots.

(Exhales) ...

Number one.

Monique draws her bowstring. A picture-perfect Victorian form.

Back in her military days, the young Monique could pierce a willow branch at a hundred paces. She was famous for it.

Didn't draw enough for that one.

The Sarkaz before her didn't even draw her sword.

The unexpected result sends a stifling heat through Monique's chest, the unwanted sensation rushes toward her heart.

Number two.

She draws her bow taut a second time.

On a rainy night, Monique once attacked a first-order campaign knight.

The opponent was not some famous hero, but a true veteran of the Ursus-Kazimierz War.

His quick reflexes spared him the arrow from the darkness, and the two ended up locked in combat until they plunged off a cliff.

The forests of Kazimierz were cold and steep in the early spring, and the chase through the dense woods lasted seven days and nights.

At the moment when the pain in her limbs and the ringing in her ears were almost intolerable, she drew her bowstring back and nocked her arrow once more, finding her target as he stopped for water.

Her stance changed, as has the look in her eyes.

Like a hunter, waiting for an opening.

The arrow split in two in midair.

One segment embedded itself into the ground. The other disappeared into a grassy clearing, where it startled a few chattering fowlbeasts.

But I have no intention of becoming your prey.

Are all Confessarii all as skilled with the sword as you?

Or rather, are there a lot of other people at Rhodes Island like you?

(Should we redo Rhodes Island's risk assessment?)

To be honest, getting rid of Rhodes Island should be the responsibility of the Board.

But soon enough, I won't be acting on their orders.

You don't believe me?

No... Actually, that doesn't come as a surprise.

Our leader has also foreseen this possibility.

So what's the point of you saying this? That this duel is solely a matter of your pride?

The point is... You should give this everything you've got, Sarkaz.