Resting her wrist on the pommel of her sword, Beatrice looked into the agent's eyes and said:
"In the name of the Emperor, you are hereby under arrest!"
"You..." The agent narrowed his eyes, scorn and disdain in his expression. "You're that Woodhearth squire. What do you think you're doing? And who is that?" he gestured to the mercenary.
"You gave me a mission—to destroy what you said was a gang-controlled caravan of contraband spell components," she said. "That caravan carried dark-elf immigrants. Civilians. Innocents! Your orders led to their deaths! My companion is Alex Strider, a witness to your crimes!"
The mercenary stood, tightly grasping her still-sheathed sword, ready to attack at a moment's notice.
"Gasparian should've warned me," the agent scoffed.
"The Grandmaster is involved in this?" Beatrice questioned, incredulous.
"The Third Trial is the final test a squire must endure to become a knight," he explained. "It is much more than a test mission—It is designed to break a squire," he continued, pacing around the table and stopping once in front of it. "It plays to their weaknesses. An impulsive squire must infiltrate the enemy for months, while a cowardly one must charge them head-on."
Things started to make sense, in a way Beatrice despised.
"A merciful squire—" the agent smiled condescendingly. "—Must kill civilians. Your trial was one of loyalty. It would seem that you failed."
Thoughts and questions raced through Beatrice's mind, but she shut them out. She focused sharply on one thing, and one thing only.
"Alex," she said. "Leave this room. Do not return, and do not interfere."
The mercenary quickly understood what was about to happen.
"You sure 'bout this?" she asked.
"Yes," Beatrice responded. "Now go."
Alex nodded firmly in respect for the squire. She left the room.
Beatrice turned to the agent and calmly asked:
"What is your name?"
"You don't have the clearance to know that," he responded. "But I will allow an exception. Agent Edmund Howes, at your service."
"Very well," she responded, taking off one glove and throwing it before him.
"Edmund Howes!" she shouted. "I, Beatrice Woodhearth, of House Woodhearth, demand satisfaction by means of a duel!"
He smiled in amusement.
"To the death?" he suggested.
"To satisfaction," she responded.
"So be it," he said, drawing his weapons; a rapier and a dagger, both with detailed, engraved cupped hilts.
They both held their stances for a moment. The glyphs on their blades glowed fiercely as they analyzed each other with disdain.
"Begin," the agent ordered.
Beatrice threw her lightning needles forward, slowly approaching. Edmund blocked them with a kinetic shockwave spell, slowly approaching as well. They inched ever closer, until they were in the range of each other's swords. The squire cut twice, once at the agent's rapier, and then again at his body. He parried the second cut with his dagger, then thrust with a lunge. Beatrice stepped back to dodge, but Edmund redoubled his offense, stepping forward. Beatrice blocked his thrust, then redirected her attempted cut to block her opponent's swing. She tried to riposte, but he stepped back, then forward with a thrust at her throat. Beatrice did not deflect, instead lowering her whole body in a lunge, placing one hand on the ground for balance, and thrusting. As quickly as she descended to this position, she returned to her guard, blood being repelled from her blade by its enchantment.
"Remarkable," the agent muttered, a shallow wound marking his abdomen.
He stepped forward and thrust. Beatrice blocked, and Edmund weaved his blade around hers in response. He moved forward, deflecting her sabre with his dagger, then thrusting at her arm. She cast a kinetic shockwave spell with her off-hand, but the agent responded with a shockwave of his own, nullifying hers. He pierced her in the arm, but quickly pulled back. Beatrice noticed that. He could have gone deeper, exposed her brachial artery—but he didn't. She retaliated; quick cuts, attempting to overwhelm him. He blocked each with ease. He feinted, and Beatrice realized so a moment too late. His sword went past her throat, then pierced her shoulder. She attempted to retreat but noticed her back was against a wall. She cut and he parried with his dagger. Beatrice noticed how strongly the enchantments on it shined, and quickly attempted to match his channeling. Her mana reached the glyphs too late, and her sword was cut, its blade clattering against the floor. Edmund placed the tip of his rapier underneath the squire's chin, pointing upwards. They remained so for a few moments, until the agent said:
"I am impressed."
Beatrice remained silent. Her heart pounded, and her mind simmered.
"What you have done is treason," he continued. "If you return to the Order, you will be interrogated, then tortured, then killed."
Beatrice remained silent. She tightly clenched her fist, blood running from where her nails touched her palm.
"Yet I find such a death would be... wasteful."
Beatrice remained silent. She already knew what he would offer, and she already knew how she would answer.
"You will never be a knight. But you can be an agent. My agent."
Beatrice remained silent. She looked into his eyes with a hatred stronger than any she had felt before.
"I will give you the choice. You may die today, or you may-"
A flash of red light filled the room, and a blur moved toward them. Edmund cast a dashing spell backward, dodging a swing aimed at his throat, and then jumped to the side, dodging a knife thrown at his core. A sword clattered on the ground before Beatrice. She said:
"I- I told you not to-!"
"Thank me later, Sunny," Alex interrupted. "Now grab that sword and let's kill this asshole!"
Beatrice paused, then smiled. She picked up the mercenary's sword and entered a guard. Alex briefly questioned herself; this guy was good, easily better than she was. Even together, it was a risk, one that she took for no reward... But that didn't matter. Just this once, she'd allow herself to play hero.
"Pathetic human!" Edmund said, sword in hand and voice tainted with scorn. "I'll have you both kept alive, tendons cut so that you cannot run!"
"You talk a lot for a man whose profession involves such secrecy," Beatrice said. She then narrowed her eyes and added:
"Shut up and fight."
Alex shot out a knife with a spell and Beatrice threw her lightning needles. Edmund dodged the knife, but the needles lodged themselves in his shoulder. Beatrice cast an electric spell, and the current ran through the agent for a full second, until he pulled them out of his body. Alex and Beatrice both advanced, the latter throwing three silver needles forward. The mercenary swung, and Edmund blocked, though he could not maneuver away from the needles; two hit his upper arm, and one hit his midsection. He was now in Beatrice's range. She thrust, and the agent parried. He attempted to riposte, but stopped and veered his sword towards Alex, narrowly blocking an overhead swing.
"Enough!" he shouted.
Edmund cast two kinetic spells, throwing both his opponents into opposite sides of the room. Alex landed on her feet and started to activate Blitz. The agent noticed the light emanating from inside her jacket, and recognized it as a bioenchantment. He stretched his hand out and focused his mana without casting a spell. The resulting wave of magic energy overwhelmed the enchantment. This gave Beatrice enough time to approach him. She delivered a circular cut that he parried, then cast a shockwave, threw a needle that hit him in the chest, and swung again, cutting across his midsection and chest. Alex ran forward, and attempted several rapid attacks—an upward diagonal, then a circular one, then a leg shot. The one aimed at the legs hit, throwing him off-balance. During the mercenary's flurry, Beatrice thrust, penetrating Edmund's arm, then pulling back with a cut across his chest. Blood now stained the floor and even the clothes of his enemies. Alex attacked the tip of his sword with her club, and Beatrice used the opportunity to cut the wrist of his sword hand. The agent dropped his sword, the light that emanated from its enchantments quickly fading as it fell to the ground.
Alex took a few steps back, and Beatrice sheathed her sword. The agent was pale and bleeding, breathing heavily, grimacing in pain. Beatrice stood over him, wordlessly. The agent instinctively placed his hand on one of his wounds and said:
"Do you realize what you are doing!? The Emperor has eyes in every part of the world! There will be no sanctuary for you, no safety!"
Beatrice's expression remained still.
"But I- I can fix this! No one needs to know any of this happened! You will return to Vezenia and be hailed as a hero! You'll- You'll become a knight!"
Beatrice remained silent in quiet disgust.
"You will save lives and destroy evil! Your oath! You swore to do so, to 'purge this world of the wicked and the evil!'"
Beatrice grabbed the agent by the throat, dragged him across the room and pinned him against a wall. Her hands began emanating a blue light. Through strained breath, Edmund uttered:
"What are you doing!?"
Beatrice responded:
"What I swore to."
She ran a negative lightning spell through the hand which held Edmund's neck, and ran a positive one through her other, which she placed on his arm, closing the current. A horrible crackling noise echoed through the room as the agent convulsed intensely. He was rendered unconscious immediately. Beatrice did not let go. She continued channeling, continued draining her soul of all its strength. His skin began to char, and his hair ignited. She did not let go. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. The light grew stronger and stronger, as did the crackling. Beatrice did not let go, only tightening her grip, until her fingers went through his arm. He fell to the ground, and Beatrice was left with a fistful of ashes.