"What's it like?"
In two different times, two women turned their heads, blinking in confusion at the question asked.
""Hm?""
"To be as strong as you are."
One closed her eyes. Outwardly calm, but a weariness exuded from her. Another merely kept a blank face, trying to stay aloof. Both considered the question. To be strong…how could one describe what it was like?
One remembered a different group of allies, of comrades. Of their own strengths and weaknesses. Some stronger than her in ways she could never be. And yet, they all followed her, for the king was perfect.
The other remembered the amount of times she fought other adventures, to test her skill. Remembered how broken some became just from fighting her once, feeling utter despair at the monster of talent that she was. If it weren't for her illness…she might surpass even those above her in level.
What was it like, to be like that? To be put on a pedestal, to find out that nobody else could reach your level?
One sighed. The other bit her lip.
""It's lonely, in a way.""
/
The rain was pleasantly soothing, as suffocating as it was. The humid air, the lack of clear visibility due to the storm, it did not change the fact that after the dungeon and the boiling of her own blood, due to excitement and exertion, Alfia felt that the water from the heavens had a cooling effect on her. Not only that, it almost made her feel that her sins were being washed away.
Was it because she didn't try to cause harm to others except her singular opponent? Was it because she was making use of Evilus, uncaring for their lives? Or was it because she was growing delusional? Whatever the case, she couldn't hold back her tired grin as she slammed a hammer into Artoria's side. Her face distorted with pain and frustration, having seen the blow coming with her inhuman instinct, having reduced the damage by relaxing and shifting her body as much as she could…but it was clear to the two of them, if not anyone else.
Alfia was winning.
The lack of a hand was taking its toll on Artoria's combat ability. At first, they were even, with all the new factors around them putting the balance of their duel into flux. New weapons, people in the midst of fighting, a new environment. Artoria and Alfia both were skilled with weapons that were not swords. Spears, axes, daggers, one could name anything in Orario and they had shattered at least two versions of those weapons at this point. The former compensated as much as she could with her Mana Burst, her natural regeneration of Mind ludicrous even for Alfia's standards. But even that began to run dry and become less and less effective, even if Alfia wasn't using as much magic.
She had two arms after all. Eventually, Artoria had ceased to use that native ability of hers,
which led to Artoria being on the backfoot, actively retreating from the Creature in question. She remained in hot pursuit, leading her away from any sites that could give her any rest or help, like potions or food. They have been at it for minutes at this point, with Alfia resisting the urge to roll her eyes when the Radiance began to fall into a pattern, showing her obvious wish, her strategy she attempted to use in order to defeat Alfia.
Emphasis on attempted.
"Oh, sword of fantasy-!"
The short sword in her hand glowed, her stump touching the hilt as well. The light, as always, originated from her palm. Without hesitation, Alfia pushed her magic into her soles and closed the distance in a blink of an eye.
"How many times do I have to stop you until you realize it's pointless?!"
With a kick, the weapon was knocked out of her hand, the grip too weak with only one hand. Immediately, Artoria cut herself short, stopping the build up and flow of magic as her hand stopped glowing.
"Tch!"
They exchanged a flurry of blows, with Artoria hissing at the cuts she was receiving from the katana that Alfia used. However, Alfia did not hit anything vital as the Radiance suddenly kicked her leg up, reminiscent of the Far East's style, before leaping down the rooftops. The Silence didn't bother chasing her lost weapon, instead focusing on her opponent picking up yet another weapon. The moment her hand grasped the handle of the longsword, Artoria exhaled and sped up to avoid the crushing heel of Alfia, returning back to the rooftops.
"Oh, sword of fantasy, I beseech you. Oh those of the Reverse Side, I ask you."
Once more, the light started in her palm. Alfia narrowed her eyes. She did not know why Artoria's magic functioned that way…but the Creature soon realized that the knight she faced could not use that Excalibur spell of hers without a weapon. A restriction in exchange for the short chant? Whatever the reason, it made it much much easier to avoid being evaporated, as long as she denied weaponry to her opponent. In a way, it was disappointing. An obvious enemy was easy to deny, their path open to her eyes.
Then she saw an orb being flung into the air and Alfia barely managed to close her eyes when she recognized it as one of the Pallum's trinkets back in her first life. The flashbang went off, deafening her ears for a moment even if her eyes didn't directly look into them. She hissed, shaking her head in order to regain her hearing again. Blinking furiously, she looked around frantically, before she could hear Artoria again, continuing to chant.
"-e illuminate the path to a better future, shine, light of Promised Victory…!"!"
She spotted blonde hair entering a building. Without hesitation, Alfia dove down the rooftop, foot first, and accelerated herself with her spell forward. She hissed at the recoil, to her mind and her body, but the pain was worth it, as the increased speed caught Artoria off guard. The sword shattered and the hilt was knocked out of her hand. Her arm itself was flung back, something flying out of her palm. Then Alfia's other leg smashed into Artoria's chest and slammed the two of them through the second wall.
The smoke was swiftly being washed away, yet it still surrounded them. Alfia noticed numbly that they were close to the walls now. She realized that some adventures were shouting, were somewhat seeing them, mobilizing to get away just from seeing her. An ache filled her heart, even if it was a muted pain. An all too familiar pain. She let out a sigh as she stared down at the coughing Artoria, trying to get up, only for Alfia to push down with her sole. She kept an eye on her hand and stump, giving a pointed look.
One false move, and Alfia would kill Artoria. Just like that. After all…
She had won. She felt joy. But it was a small thing. Other than that…it was just apathy. For this had happened before many times, again and again. A strong opponent, but not strong enough. No magic left, no actions open, Artoria was lying on the ground, defeated.
"This is goodbye," Alfia whispered, a sad smile filling her face. She was growing soft, truly. The old her wouldn't even bother. But in this day and age, in this Orario that was weaker than Zeus and Hera Familia at their prime…she was pleasantly surprised by the opposition she faced here.
Alas. It still wasn't enough. Evil was still too strong, and it was still needed to create the hero the world needed, not the heroes it had. The insufficient ones.
"You lived in an era without the heroes and adventurers of old, and claimed to be the strongest." She shook her head, a weak scoff escaping her. "Sadly... For all your strength…your end is painfully ordinary and a common story. Disappointing, isn't it?"
The heroes of old were strong and mighty.
They died.
Zeus and Hera Familia were the apex of the world.
They were ruined.
Among them, Artoria would be a dime in a dozen. Valuable…but not world changing. It was not an insult to her capabilities, but mere fact. The world needed better than a 'simple' hero. They needed something everlasting, something better. Shaking her head, Alfia waited for a response to her words. Waited for a reaction, of sorrow, of rage, of anything.
Artoria said nothing instead. She remained motionless, her face carefully blank. Alfia's smile wavered. She bit her lip. Was this how she wanted to end? Silently?
"Any last words? For the audience or I?" She asked carefully, giving her opponent one last chance to end her story in a way that was worthy of her strength.
Suddenly, a hand grasped her ankle, squeezed and pushed it up with all the force she could muster. Alfia smirked a bit, as she saw the final struggle of her opponent, a surprising amount of strength behind it. Yet it would mean nothi-
"Ex…"
Impossible!
A shiver went down her spine. Time slowed down as Alfia didn't think, her body acting in her stead. To escape, she twisted her leg and leapt backwards, freeing herself from Artoria's grasp. Didn't she need a weapon?! Was it a trick all along?! As she created distance, her eyes were glued on her opponent, in the slowed down perception of hers already rising to her feet. Yet something else was wrong.
Alfia felt no power radiating from Artoria. No magic. Was she baited? No, her honed experience wouldn't act like this without reason. Her senses wouldn't fall for a mere faint. Yet there was no light from Artoria, not from her hand or anything. Quite the opposite in fact,, all Alfia saw was her own shadow upon her.
Her very soul froze over, as something clicked. As she realized she saw something she wasn't supposed to see.
Her shadow.
How could she see a shadow in the middle of a lightning storm? It was not from thunder of any kind, she was seeing the shadow for too long. Instead it was as if…
…as if a sun was behind her.
Her head snapped around, her body turning. It was a foolish decision, her rational part of the brain told her. But the shock and the sheer morbid curiosity of what that light was within this raining lightning storm was too much. And her eyes went wide, as she stared at the glowing, almost blinding orb of light floating in the air, the dust having been washed away by the water of the heavens.
Her mind immediately reconstructed the scene that must have happened.
When Artoria went into the building. When Alfia hit her weapon away…she was throwing something behind her. In an arc, she belatedly realized. In the building, in the dust that kicked up from the attack…and the nearby chaos of the monsters and adventurers outside, Alfia didn't sense the orb at all.
Alfia was fooled! Artoria wasn't reliant on a weapon at all! And yet, the latter pretended she had to!
Time began to resume to its normal flow. Alfia opened her mouth, already intending to get away as fast as possible. She could make it too, even if it would take a toll on her mind.
That was when arms wrapped around her neck and locked themselves in. Alfia choked, gasping for her as a titan was holding her in place. A heavy breath brushed against her ear, before…
"..calibur."
A singular whisper. Then, all Alfia knew was light.
The ground disappeared. The buildings around them disappeared. Even the wall to the outside disappeared. Only the swift warning and command from the Braver made certain that the adventurers didn't get engulfed in the pillar of destruction themselves. Any monster approaching the wall backpedaled and tried to retreat as fast as they could, opening themselves up to their enemies and getting shot down in the process. Then, two figures were flung through the newly created gap and crashed into the ground.
The light ceased, the rain continuing on as the clouds closed around the sudden gap immediately. The spectators, having leapt away just in time, could only silently gape at the sight. Two beings, scorched and on the ground.
Only one being moving.
One Artoria Pendragon coughing violently, on her knees, on her left arm, still breathing. Then, she raised her upper body, gasping for air despite her scarred body, utterly ruined from her own spell. No, because it was her own spell, she suffered less damage from Excalibur. Combined with her innate magic resistance…only she could've survived such an attack.
Or rather…
"She won! Artoria Pendragon, the Radiance, has won her battle against the Silence!"
Cheers exploded on the walls, morale rising and peaking. Artoria laughed weakly before wincing at the exertion. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. She couldn't believe her plan worked out like this.
Her mind wandered to the past. When she first learned to get used to the 'rules' of this world. Of how she used Excalibur initially.
It took her weeks To figure out how to wrap the energy around a weapon without destroying it, to swing it without the power going out of control. Others commented it was a fast learning rate, to figuring out one's own magic and how to use it. However, for Artoria, it was shameful how long it took her to figure out how to use her spell.
Or so she thought, at least.
Old habits died hard. Excalibur was a Noble Phantasm. A Last Phantasm even. It was always an artifact, a weapon of great power, that symbolized her existence the most, next to Avalon. Thus, she used Excalibur as a weapon even in this life. The imagery helped her, guided her, to use her anti fortress attack as she was used to.
At least, until Lusserina, the elven mage of her Familia, pointed it out what Excalibur was in this world.
It was not a Noble Phantasm.
It was magic. And as Merlin taught her, as Morgan showed her…magic was mutable. It could be shaped. Artoria even did so since the start, unconsciously shaping the light to wrap around her weapon and use it as a mold for the blast she was accustomed to in her existence as king and as a heroic spirit. Yet was she satisfied with that? To mimic her old glory, to recreate a lesser version of a weapon that rivaled the divine?
No, this was a new life. And with her lacking strength from not being a Heroic Spirit, creativity had to make up for it. She simply had to take a step back and figure out other shapes from there.
Easier said than done, to be honest. There were many times where the spell became unstable and blew her up, blew others up. It took a while to improve. Then again…Artoria, despite the burning sensation of her skin with each droplet hitting it, couldn't help but chuckle under her breath.
How much did she truly improve, if she still had to explode herself with her target?
"I…really have to thank Lusserina properly next time…ha…ha…"
She had never attempted this strategy of using Excalibur. There were so many ways it could have gone wrong. The orb losing cohesion, exploding prematurely. Her suffering from Ignus Fatuus due to delaying her chant for a moment, having to keep the flow within her under control without an aria. Alfia figuring out her trickery.
It spoke volumes how formidable her opponent was that Artoria had to resort to desperate improvisation in order to reach this point. She glanced at the steaming body of her opponent, narrowing her eyes just a bit.
And even then, with this gambit…Alfia managed to react. If she hadn't, there wouldn't even be anything left of her. There would have been no way Artoria would've gotten away with only this extent of injuries. In the last moment, Alfia managed to get her offense spell off. Her…Gospel, to diminish the damage. Nevertheless, it seemed to be for naught, Artoria thought, a sorrowful weight on her heart.
The form of the Silence was ugly. Limbs lacking skin, veins and muscles visible. Burned and melted, scorched. As much evil as she had committed…someone like her deserved a cleaner death. Still, Artoria was more than professional enough to put those thoughts aside, as such pity was insulting in its own right.
It was over. There was no way even Alfia could get up from that. Closing her eyes, Artoria took a deep breath, to relax just a bit-
Only to hear it.
The twitch. The gasp.
Her head snapped around, eyes wide. Alfia's scorched body…was still moving. Ever so slightly, the last twitches, the last remains of her life, made her body move. The body of the hybrid trying its best to reassemble its flesh and skin back. Artoria bit her lip, not moving a bit as she eyed the form of Alfia. Even if she healed…even if she was somehow alive…there was no way that she could get back up. It took too much energy to even heal an arm, else it would've completely paralyzed her. This amount of damage…the healing would be purely cosmeti-
And then, Alfia's upper body rose up with a snap. Artoria stared with disbelief, mouth slightly agape, her breath stopping. The breath of everyone that witnessed this stopped as well. Just as quick as it got up, Alfia fell to her side, supporting herself on her elbow. She heaved, drool escaping her mouth, as she coughed and wheezed, her forehead against the ground.
By all means, it should'Ve been the dying breaths of a dead woman. Yet Alfia pressed her hands against the ground, trying to push herself up.
Impossible was the thought that suffused their entire beings. And yet, the Silence was performing the impossible. As she forced her body to stop regenerating at a certain point. As if she found the balance between healing herself enough to move, but not too much to drain her internal resources dry. The people on the wall took a step back, despite being so far away. Artoria grit her teeth, remaining in her kneeling position, as Alfia's arms shook and wavered, bent and weak, as she seemed to growl and glare a hole into the ground beneath her.
Why? Why was she getting up? Not how, but the amount of agony and pain she had to be going through…What could possibly urge this wraith of the past on?
Unbeknownst to them, Alfia's eyes were dulled. Her body was moving without the input of her mind, a mind that despised herself. A mind that wished for death, to reunite with her family, but never was given even that.
Alfia truly wanted to die. So why was her body moving? It wasn't like she deserved any of this. To struggle on, when she was clearly defeated. When she was pure evil that had to be put down. Wasn't it enough?
"Why are you always like this?"
Alfia blinked. No longer on the battlefield. Instead, she was sitting at a bed…next to her. Her other half. Her better half. The half she stole from.
Meteria.
Alfia tilted her head, at the cute, pouting look she received, unable to help herself as a small smirk formed.
"Like what?"
In response, she got her head booped by her weaker sister. The young woman huffed, crossing her arm despite the tired eyes, just talking exerting her body.
"All this." She let out a long suffering sigh before wagging her finger at Alfia. "You always act like you are above it all…but I know it hurts you when you are called a monster."
"The truth hurts," Alfia shrugged, only earning her a glare from her town.
"Nope, none of that! Why are you always so hard on yourself?"
Avoiding her sister's gaze, Alfia bit her lip.
"Because that's my duty as the strongest."
She was a monster after all. And a monster had to be strong. If she wasn't strong…what was the point from stealing from her sister? It was all she had. It was the reason for her cursed existence. So what if people badmouthed her, kept their distance from her? It was just all part of the punishment.
"And what about my sister, hm? What about the Alfia I care for? What about her? What about what she wants?"
At Meteria's calm inquiries, Alfia stiffened up.
"I…"
A finger brushed against her lips. Alfia blinked only to look at the impossibly warm smile directed at her.
"Are you my sister because you're the strongest…or are you the strongest because you're my sister, silly?"
Ignoring Alfia's confusion, Meteria coughed. She raised her hand before the strong Silence could fuss over her in a panic. Wiping her mouth, she let out a small breath as she leaned her head against the wall.
"It's weird, I know but…when you win…it feels like I win too." She shook her head, almost regretfully. "But that's wrong. Everything you do isn't for my sake, but for your own. So don't feel any guilt for my condition. You are you and I am me. Don't see it as you stealing from me. It's all your power, your skills, your efforts. Even if I'm gone, this is all yours."
"Don't talk like that!"
"Alfia. Just stop holding yourself back."
The pleading edge silenced Alfia. Her tear filled eyes, despite the warm smile. A begging wish towards her own twin, Meteria looked upon her sister as if she was looking upon the greatest treasure of them all.
"Stop blaming yourself for something you have no control over. Just win, like always. Not because you have to, not because you think you owe it to anyone…"
A playful giggle escaped her, even as she wiped her eyes with a frail finger.
"But because you are awesome like that. My awesome sister that nobody can trump."
The memory, the dream, disappeared. Returning to the cold, raining reality, Alfia took a deep breath and finally pushed her upper body up. With heavy breaths, her chest heaved…and her beating heart rang even in her ears. She put a palm against her breast, a weak smile forming on her mouth.
Why was she thinking of that conversation? The conversation where she just left, and nothing had truly changed? That day where Alfia wished she could accept the words of her twin, but couldn't, due to her own weakness? She shook her head before gritting her teeth.
She knew why she remembered. Because it gave her the answer why her body was still moving, despite her self loathing, the darkness within her. Her deepest wish, beyond saving the world, beyond becoming evil for the sake of good…
In the end…her selfish desire was a simple one. She didn't care if she was a monster or not. If she was evil or not. Even if she was the most reprehensible being in existence…
One foot pressed against the ground, her palms pressing against her knee. She let out a whimper of pain, as her body screamed by the tortuous efforts. But slowly…surely…her head was rising higher and higher, observed by the gazes of others, gaping at the sight.
In the end…Alfia simply hated to lose. Not just because of her twin, but because she herself possessed that hunger since birth. The desire, the thirst, to defeat her sickness time and time again. To defeat her own weakness again and again. The reason for her growth, her efforts to gain her skills and master them…if she truly hated herself so much, she would not go so far. She would have allowed herself to waste away, to be at Meteria's side. But she did not, for she wished to live and shine as brilliantly as the stars of old.
So what if she was a mere beast now? So what if she was on her last legs?
That was her pride and heart as an adventurer, no matter how tainted it was from her own acts. She would always get back up. For her sister. For herself. No longer was she bothering to pretend she was being a trial to someone else, like in the days before her first death. Artoria was right, the first day they met, the first day of this long, exhausting fight.
She was the challenger once more. And before her was an enemy that awaited her. An enemy she had to overcome. To prove her existence. To enjoy breaking the limits once more, even if a part of her hated it, this monster of talent that she was. Because despite it all…she was an adventurer facing the unknown and wanting to be victorious over it.
Thus…Alfia rose to her feet. Shaking, like a new born calf, yet moving nonetheless. Without making a sound except for the sound of breathing, she took one step forward. And the next. And the next.
Ever approaching her most wonderful and powerful opponent she had ever faced. At the face of such determination, as she leaned forward, her mouth almost drooling with hunger, her flesh barely kept together…a question ran through everyone's minds.
Who could possibly stop this Monster of Talent? Who could put an end to the steps of the Hera Familia's former ace?
Who could break the Silence?
"Haaaah…!"
They gasped as they saw Artoria rise to her feet, looking more frustrated than tired. As if hearing their thoughts, her own sound was spitting on their beliefs, that Alfia was unstoppable. Her voice alone broke the deafening silence, with her footsteps stomping and echoing through the area, a far cry from Alfia's quiet moving. Eventually, they stood before each other, their form utterly sloppy and exhausting as they stared each other down.
Lightning flashed in the sky.
Artoria breathed in, only to suddenly have blood burst out of her mouth, her ears and nose, even her eyes. She almost collapsed as she covered her mouth. Alfia's eyes widened before she laughed weakly.
Mind Down.
At last, the Radiance's reserves were gone.
"Hahaha…So close, yet so far away… This is my victory, Artoria. Gos-!"
Alfia almost collapsed herself, as her blood too desired to escape through any opening her body had left. Both women, the apex in the art of combat, coughed violently like patients at death's door. Eventually, they gasped for air, trying to calm themselves down as they glanced at each other.
Then, the two smirked as they raised their arms at the same time. Artoria extended her hand out, with her stump next to her elbow. It truly resembled the art Alfia recalled as 'Kenpo' of some sorts. Meanwhile, Alfia merely raised her fists in a boxing stance, hissing through her teeth as she tried to suppress the agony she felt from her tattered body.
"It appears we are both a sorry sight…!" Alfia declared, causing Artoria to nod.
"Indeed…We shall do this the old fashioned way then."
Thus, reduced to the weapon mankind first mastered…two fists extended out and smashed into the other's cheek. Both recoiled from the blow, but grit their teeth and shifted their feet. This time, a stump shot out against the fist. Alfia's eyes glowed with confidence, as she twisted her own wrist, her fist becoming open handed.
Then, mimicking a style she had only read about, she flung Artoria over her shoulder, putting her off balance, putting a certain Renard to shame. Artoria's eyes widened as she managed to land on her feet, only for Alfia to pull at her stump and smashing her knee into Artoria's stomach. With a hiss, the knight shifted her form, causing another knee to miss and landed her own elbow into Alfia's temple. Yet she managed to move her head forward to reduce to distance of the elbow, diminishing its power.
Thus, the flurry of blows, the dance of unarmed attacks continued…and it was soon evident to even the most unskilled fighter, that Artoria could not win.
To Alfia's eyes, the woman she faced was a master of the sword, a veteran of all weaponry…and merely skilled in unarmed combat. Meanwhile she herself was facing a beast of incredible skill within the depths of the dungeon, and soaked up all the knowledge the being possessed.
Grappling.
Artoria barely managed to escape after being slammed down on the ground, the wet mud and rain causing her to slip out of the chokehold Alfia had on her.
Throwing.
Again, Artoria's blow was used against her, the momentum used to throw her over Alfia's shoulder.
Punching. Kicks. Elbows. Palms. Chops. Artoria's form was battered by the array of attacks. To her credit, she reacted as best as she could, seemingly familiar with the unorthodox arsenal the bull monster in the dungeon showcased. A mystery that Alfia would never unveil. Nevertheless, with all the newly gained skills, flowing more and more smoothly together due to her own monstrous talent, Artoria soon couldn't even land her own blows, as she was focused on turtling up, her muscles and arms tense as they blocked as best as they could. It was a pitiful sight compared to her glowing performance as a sword fighter.
With the advantage on her side, Alfia's body moved almost automatically as her mind began to wander.
What would have been like? If Alfia made a different decision in the past? Before meeting Erebus and his plan? What would it have been like…if she had traveled the world, in order to heal her own heart? In the midsts of combat, of flesh and bone striking against each other again and again, she imagined it.
The feral power of the amazon queen. Would her spells have deterred the Asura from her charge? The leading charge of the lance that lead Rakia. Would her skill have broken the arts of the Legiones? The teamwork and unnatural might of the Far East. Would she have severed that connection with her power? The what ifs flowed through her mind. If they were just as capable, or at least close to Artoria Pendragon…perhaps this world truly had hope.
They were strong. If there was one regret Alfia felt, it was that she took so long to meet them, under these terrible circumstances. Nevertheless, she was here now, relishing this sensation of being an adventurer facing a mighty opponent.
Again and again, their feet and fists struck each other. And again and again, Artoria was pushed backwards, her feet stumbling and dragging across the wet ground.
This warrior before her…she truly was worthy of all the respect Alfia could muster. With each strike Alfia suffered, she felt radiant joy. With each strike Alfia delivered, her heart screamed in agony.
Let it continue. Let it end. Two desires struggling against each other. The joy of combat…against the wish to allow Artoria to rest at last. To be finally rewarded from all the suffering, to be free from this dragged out loss.
Wasn't it enough? Please fall. Do not suffer needlessly. Be defeated with grace. There was no shame to be defeated by the Silence. Falling now…would not taint Artoria's story whatsoever.
Thoughts such as these went through Alfia's head. And she knew immediately that they only shamed the Saber before her. That she was growing soft, wistful, with this miracle, with this wonderful time of her life.
For Artoria's eyes were still alive. They still searched and yearned for victory. Even with her back being pushed further and further towards the walls of Orario…the eyes were still filled with light.
Because of that Alfia refused and could not be allowed to let her guard down. She sharpened her focus once more, as her opponent was waiting for a singular slip up. No matter how much Artoria's bones cracked and screamed for rest. No matter how much her flesh was bruised. She kept up the defense, no matter how many strikes Alfia landed.
Eventually, the Silence decided enough was enough, as Artoria's arms faltered ever so slightly, lowering themselves against her will. Alfia saw the opening for what she saw it and reared back her arm. Then, she threw it out, the straight, her fingers aiming for Artoria's throat.
Suddenly, the Radiance's head snapped up, her arms shooting up with speed not seen before. Alfia grinned widely. One final Mana Burst, weak as it was. Her Mind regeneration was truly ridiculous. Giving speeds she was not capable before, as her right arm dove for Alfia's chest, where her magic crystal was located. Sadly, even her instinct couldn't fool Alfia at this point.
She didn't put her all into the straight. She shifted her feet, curving her attack. Artoria's head was trying to slip past the trajectory, only for the fingers aiming straight for her eyes again.
Who would hit first? Would Artoria have her eyes and brain gouged out? Or would Artoria's gambit succeed with brute force and will, to tear her opponent's core out?
They would never know. In a duel, even the slightest outside factor could change the tides. And it was a singular word that did it. A singular voice that broke any plans they had.
"ARTORIA!"
Both froze, as they realized whose voice that was. One who knew the voice firsthand…and the other who knew because of the bond they possessed, a bond the young man didn't know about. Even their minds froze as the unexpected voice called out the name, filled with worry, with shock…and encouragement.
After stopping, in mind and body…two things happened.
One faltered with loathing.
Another surged with determination.
Both adjusted immediately, discarding their initial idea, initial path. Yet it was Alfia who was a beat too late, resisting the urge to look upon the source of the voice, killing the deepest desire to take just one peek at who she had left behind. It took but an eye's blink to return to the cold hearted monster she made herself out to be. Her trajectory changed once more, adjusting for the gap in thought and action.
But it was too late.
Artoria was already ducking, moving ahead in time. Where one felt despair and yearning at the voice…another only felt encouragement. To live up to the expectation the young man had for her.
Bell Cranel was watching a hero fight. And he deserved to see a hero win!
Thus, Artoria dodged the blow, the stab at her eyes. Then, she pushed herself up with her feet, spinning in the progress. Alfia tried to pull her arm back as fast as she could. But with another Mana Burst, even as her brain was at the verge of breaking, Artoria stump accelerated with even more speed. From the right…it cut to the left, like a mighty blade.
Neither moved. Not even breathing, as the stump was covered in blood, pointing upwards as it was extended out.
Then, after what felt like an eternity…one spoke.
"It... is done... !"
In response…Alfia could do nothing but cough up blood, as gravity took a hold of her upper body. Sliding backwards, it fell down, blood spilling out of the open wound.
The final attack…a strong cleave through the Silence's body.
And yet. In the end…the two strongest both remained standing. Alfia's legs refused to buckle, refused to yield, even now, their feet planted on the ground. Artoria coughed violently as a laugh tried to force itself through her battered body, blood spilling out of her mouth as she pushed her Mind beyond the limit once more. She could see it. How the Creature's flesh tried to reconnect the two parts, the flesh wiggling and pulsating even as it splurted blood.
But Artoria was utterly calm. Alfia remained relaxed as well, despite the agony she must be going through. After all…the two of them were completely confident.
This fight was over, no matter how much the cursed body tried. At last…Alfia's reserves were completely dry. The crystal in her chest was cracking and breaking with each breath she was taking. That curse of hers shriveling up, as it tried the impossible, to heal her body, and wasting energy that was already dry. Lacking the ability to restore magical energy like Artoria…it was truly the end.
Despite this…the Silence couldn't help but have a bloodstained smile.
Artoria Pendragon was the winner, standing tall. Hiding the corpse in waiting from the view of the walls…from him. Perhaps it was a coincidence, or perhaps Artoria was giving her opponent one last moment of respect. Either way, the mage was grateful for it. She, Alfia…waited for death's embrace,
an embrace that had a long time coming.
As the loser of this fight. By all means, she had no right to speak, no right to do anything but waste away, with the victor given the right and power to do whatever she wanted. To crush her skull, to taunt her, to do anything. And yet…she remembered his voice. That voice she never got to hear, the voice she turned her back to in order to keep her resolve to become evil…And with that voice, her dead heart wavered. Thus…her smile fell as she tried to look Artoria in the eyes, who obliged her with heavy, exhausted breaths.
"Tell me…is…is he…the Last Hero…?"
Was she hopeful? Was she despairing at the thought of such a burden landing on her nephew? She didn't know…but she needed an answer, as her hands formed fists. This woman who defeated her, she was the only one qualified to make such a judgement. Even if she didn't know what Alfia was talking about…the Silence needed to know what Bell Cranel's place was in this world.
The woman in question glanced behind her, looking at his form. Exhausted from his own fighting, he seemed to have forgotten all about why he came here in the first place, all due to the concern he felt for her. Returning her gaze to her defeated adversary, she took a deep breath. Her body was shaking, yearning rest. Her eyes were dull, half lidded, yearning to sleep. Yet Artoria had to stay tall, for she was the winner. To fall now…was an insult to the defeated.
She realized what Alfia was asking about, even if she didn't know the exact details. And thus…her answer was direct and without hesitation.
"No."
Alfia's eyes were wide, as tears formed. Despair once more grasped her heart, even as she choked, not on blood, but her own broken heart. Artoria shook her head, a weak smile forming on her face. The action caused the Silence to stop, eyeing the standing woman in muted confusion.
"He is an Incarnation of Legends. Someone who tries to live up to the deeds of others…and his own. Trust me when I say that he is not the Last Hero…for Heroism will not end with him."
Artoria looked up at the raining horizon, a bloody cough escaping her through her soft expression.
"One day we will no longer be needed. But until the Age of Will arrives…Someone like him will always rise up. Whether they fail or not…they add to our noble history as people. As mortals. To pass on their hopes and dreams, to keep the flame in our souls alight. One step at a time, we shall move on and become greater with each brave youth that yearns for more."
Alfia bit her lip, her heart feeling…just a bit lighter. The Last Hero didn't exist yet. The final salvation, for eternal peace…was not there yet. And despite the fact that she should fall into the abyss of darkness…she grasped the light that Artoria presented. That…that they could persevere even without the Last Hero. No…that they could survive until the Last Hero.
A foolish hope…but wasn't that what made Artoria superior to Alfia? To be able to hope at all? Alfia started to close her eyes, accepting the answer, even if it wasn't what she wanted to he-
"That includes you too."
Her eyes snapped open, one final burst of power, fueled by disbelief. Artoria was kneeling down, before her.
"No matter your crimes and despair, your actions have meaning too. I disapprove of them…but I will not deny your existence."
Reaching out, Artoria grasped the left hand of Alfia, raised it to her own chest…and gave it a reassuring squeeze, as the winner gave the loser one last nod, with a respective bow of her head.
"Alfia of the Hera Familia. You are strong. Be proud." Putting the back of Alfia's hand to her beating chest, Artoria closed her eyes with a smile. "I will not forget you for as long as I live."
"T-t... " She was unable to talk. The strength had long faded away. Her body was already disappearing. And yet, the smile she bore…was at complete peace, even as the last of her tears flowed out of her eyes. "Tha...u... "
Thus, the Silence, the Monster of Talent, disappeared…having heard the words she always yearned for from a strong opponent.
Artoria almost collapsed right then and there. Yet she heard the fast approach, a body pushing through wind and rain.
"Artoria!"
Artoria snapped her hand out, stopping his approach. She slowly turned her head around. Bell stared at her, horrified at her injuries, his eyes wandering to her stump. He opened his mouth to say something, unconsciously grasping the cloth that covered his chest as he saw the fading remains of the unknown assailant. But Artoria smiled weakly before shaking her head, silencing whatever he was about to utter, distracting him from whatever question he felt to ask.
"I'll be fine." With a nod, she pointed at the distance, at the destructive chaos at the horizon. "She needs you."
Bell's eyes widened. He hesitated for just a moment. And then, he slapped her palm with his own as he rushed past her.
Artoria stared at the distancing back of the youth. She remembered a certain other fool, rushing head first into danger. just like this. She remembered how small and frail Bell was when they first met.
How they grew…
That was her last thought before her eyes rolled up into her skull and her body went limp as if a puppet lost its strings.
/
"...Honestly? It's you? How creepy, old man."
"Hey, it's your fault for not actually following me at the time. No way I'm meeting the others without you. They would kill me again."
"Typical of you, Zard. Delaying the inevitable for almost a decade?"
"The bench is very comfortable."
"You are not beating the old man allegations."
"Pfff."
"Hahaha…"
"So. How was she?"
"Haaaah…Way too strong. If I wasn't some chimeric monstrosity, she would have beaten me faster."
"I think you are beating yourself up too much." A pause. "She going to be alright? The taller they are the harder they fall after all."
"...Unlike us, I believe she will always get back up, no matter how many times she falls. I think she…and the others like her, have something we never possessed."
"Heh. Tell me more about it later. C'mon, let's not keep them waiting any longer than we have to."
"You are the one who distracted me."
"Always have a comeback, huh?"
Two figures rose up from their seats. They walked down, following the many other souls and carriages ascending the stairs…towards heaven.
/
AN: Fun fact, initial plans were for Alfia to survive and join Nyx and Filvis. Then I was unsure if it was right for either of those ladies to survive after smashing each other's face in for days. In the end I threw a dice and then I let my heart lead me.
Sad that Bell doesn't get to do confrontation with Alfia but maybe it's for a best he doesn't know his aunt did war crimes
