Time in the Shadow Realm had dragged on for so long that Kay had simply given up counting.
All he knew for certain was that after that fierce "reward" of the other day, the once cold and oppressive gray air of this demiplane had strangely become sweet and sticky.
Of course, as a teacher, Scáthach's harshness hadn't lessened by a single millimeter.
"Your focus wavered! I told you to see right through not just the enemy's weapon, but their very shadow!"
Kwaaaang!
The shaft of Gáe Bolg crashed mercilessly against Kay’s shin.
"Ugh…! You witch! Last night you were—mmph!"
"Do not bring personal feelings into your training. Do you think the enemy will show you mercy on the battlefield?"
As Kay tried to retort, Scáthach delivered a ruthless kick, sending him sprawling into the ash-gray dirt. Her red eyes remained those of a cold, merciless instructor.
"…Get up. That is enough for today."
Scáthach withdrew her spear and reached a hand down to the sprawled Kay.
Kay grumbled as he took her hand and hauled himself up. She then casually wiped the sweat from his brow and dusted off his torn sleeve.
"Good work. For dinner tonight, shall we have those roasted beast ribs you like so much?"
"Since when do I like ribs? You're the one who likes the taste of tearing and chewing into them."
"It's the same thing. Now hurry up, wash yourself, and get to the kitchen. I'm hungry."
The queen who had been exuding a chilling bloodlust was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a woman who looked like a down-to-earth wife nagging her husband to hurry home from the fields.
That gap in her demeanor left Kay dumbfounded, yet he couldn't help but smirk inwardly.
The most dramatic change in their relationship hadn’t occurred on the training ground or in the kitchen, but in the bedroom.
After that intense first experience, Scáthach had effectively moved Kay's sleeping quarters into her own bedroom.
"Hey, I have my own bed—why do you keep making me sleep here? It's cramped."
Kay grumbled from atop the massive bed padded with plush beast hides.
"Quiet. The nights in the Shadow Realm are cold. And… your warmth isn’t half bad."
Scáthach approached, dressed in a sheer, thin silk nightgown, and naturally burrowed into Kay’s broad chest.
The chill of her skin against his burning body heat sent a strange shiver through him. The rich, sweet scent of her hair tickled the tip of his nose.
"…If you're cold, just light a fire or use some Primordial Runes to warm the place up."
Kay snapped at her, yet he instinctively wrapped his arms around the strongest warrior of the Celts as she nestled into his embrace. His touch was rough, but tender, as he circled her smooth waist.
"Artificial heat and human warmth are different. Especially… your heat is quite special."
Scáthach lifted her head and pressed a light kiss to Kay’s jawline. Her red eyes narrowed slightly as her hand slid down secretly to caress his lower body.
"And you know perfectly well that 'being cold' is just an excuse, don't you?"
"…You absolute beast of a woman."
Kay’s breathing grew ragged in an instant.
The instincts of the witch, repressed for centuries, exploded uncontrollably once they had been awakened.
At night, she cast aside the mask of the instructor and transformed into a ravenous leopard, lusting only for the man named Kay.
"Let us see how much the mediocre lump of Britain can please me tonight."
"Whether I'm mediocre or not—you can find out for yourself tomorrow morning when you're clutching your waist!"
Kay snarled and pounced atop Scáthach.
The brutal training of the day was long forgotten. The silent night of the Shadow Realm was filled with the dense, hot sounds of their mingled breaths.
The next morning.
"…Ugh."
Kay clutched his aching waist and forced his heavy eyelids open.
Though the Shadow Realm was perpetually dark, his biological clock told him it was morning.
Every joint in his body was screaming. And it wasn't because of yesterday's training.
"Are you awake, my little cook?"
The bedsheets rustled as a smooth, cold arm wrapped around Kay’s firm chest.
Turning his head, he saw Scáthach, completely naked, wearing a languid smile. Her red eyes were filled with a sensual satiety she hadn't known for centuries.
"…Hey, Master. Do you have no conscience? From early evening until dawn, just how many times did you wring me dry?"
Kay complained, staring at the ceiling with hollow eyes.
"Hmph. You were the one who provoked my competitive spirit. You claimed to be confident in your stamina. A Celtic warrior must never retreat, even in the battles of the night."
"When did I ever say I was a Celtic warrior?! I'm a man of Britain! And you use Primordial Runes to recover your stamina when you're tired! That's cheating!"
"Magecraft is also a skill. If you feel it's unfair, learn the runes yourself."
Scáthach smiled teasingly and pressed a light kiss to the nape of Kay’s neck.
The Queen of the Shadow Realm, having broken centuries of chastity, was now relentless in the face of pleasure.
By day, she was a bloodless, tearless instructor, but once the bedroom door closed, she became a leopard that endlessly craved the warmth of the man named Kay.
"Ah, seriously. I feel like my bones are dissolving. Move over, I have to make breakfast."
Despite his grumbling, Kay habitually stroked Scáthach's smooth, bare waist as she snuggled into him. It was a rough but affectionate touch.
Scáthach let out a contented sound, like a purring cat, and burrowed deeper into his embrace.
"Stay a little longer. Your body heat… feels truly wonderful. In this cold, damp realm, you are like the only living, breathing heater."
"You're quite the silver-tongued one. Fine, five more minutes."
Inwardly, Kay didn't dislike the warmth of this peaceful morning.
The two shared a single blanket, warming the chilly morning air of the realm with their combined heat, enjoying a moment of leisure. They looked like a perfect couple—no, more like a natural pair of spouses.
After a while, Kay finally managed to escape the bed and stood before the hearth.
Today's breakfast menu was a fluffy soufflé omelette and a special meat noodle soup made from simmered beast bones.
"Let's see… a pinch of salt, and then grind these pepper-substitute berries…."
Humming a tune, Kay began to cook with practiced ease.
He whisked the egg whites into a meringue and fried them in melted butter on a hot stone plate.
Following that, he added chewy, hand-kneaded noodles into the rich, concentrated broth.
"The aroma is magnificent."
Scáthach, now changed into her full-body suit, approached and hugged Kay from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder as she peered into the pot.
She would never act so spoiled in front of others to maintain her dignity as a teacher, but since they were alone, she had no reservations.
"It's hot, so back off. You'll get splashed with oil."
"My skin is not so fragile that it would be burned by mere oil. More importantly, what is this white, puffed-up thing? It looks like a cloud."
"It's a soufflé omelette. It'll melt in your mouth. Your stomach, which has only known tough meat that breaks teeth, needs a break."
Kay set two steaming bowls of noodles and the bright yellow omelette on the stone table.
Scáthach sat down elegantly and lifted the noodles with her chopsticks.
Slurp.
The rich, spicy meat broth slid down her throat, washing away the fatigue of the previous night.
She then took a spoonful of the soufflé omelette.
"…!!"
Scáthach's eyes widened.
"This… it truly feels as if a cloud is melting in my mouth. The fluffy yet savory flavor of the eggs is at its peak."
"See, what did I tell you? How are you going to survive once I'm gone? I've raised your tastes way too high."
Kay smirked as he sat opposite her, sipping the broth.
He was right. Scáthach, who for centuries had lived on dew or occasionally chewed on raw beast meat, had become a gourmet who couldn't last a day without Kay's cooking.
"Hmph. Do not worry. Even if you return to Britain, I will simply summon you with runes whenever it is mealtime, have you prepare the food, and then send you back."
"You're treating me like a food delivery app."
"I am joking. I cannot interfere with the outside world anyway."
Scáthach joked playfully while scraping the last of the omelette from her plate.
Kay laughed it off, but in her red eyes, there was a deep, dripping sense of possessiveness and affection for him.
Once the intense morning training was over, the two would often sit side by side on the edge of a precarious cliff atop the castle walls to rest.
"Stay still. Your hair is all tangled."
Kay sat behind Scáthach, carefully combing through her long, beautiful purple hair with a comb he had carved from wood.
The hair, which had become tangled and covered in dust during training, regained its original silky luster under Kay's delicate touch.
"Your movements are far sharper and more precise when handling a comb than when handling a weapon."
Scáthach murmured languidly, her eyes closed as she leaned her back against Kay's knee.
"Of course. Do you know how much time I spent braiding and combing my sisters' hair? Especially Alter—she always woke up with a bird's nest on her head, so I struggled every morning."
"Are you talking about those sisters again? Focus only on me when you are in my presence."
Scáthach scolded him in a slightly pouting voice.
"Are you jealous? If word got out that the Queen of the Shadow Realm was jealous of some sisters, everyone would laugh."
"It is not jealousy. It is a legitimate claim of ownership over my property."
Scáthach turned her head slightly and looked up at him, rubbing her face against Kay's thigh.
"Kay. You have grown strong. You have surpassed the limits of the flesh, broken the mold of the mediocre, and grown. While you still have a long way to go, you are the only mediocre person to have endured three years in this realm."
At her praise, Kay stopped combing and looked down at her.
"What's with the sudden compliments? You're making me nervous."
"It is not a compliment; it is a fact. If you returned to Britain now, you would be able to take down most knight captains with your bare hands."
Scáthach sat up to face Kay. Her expression had lost its usual playfulness and had become serious.
"However… no matter how hard you strive, there are things you simply cannot overcome. For example, Noble Phantasms of the Age of Gods, or an overwhelming gap in magical energy. If that Dream Demon is correct, your sisters have already reached the realm of monsters."
"…I know. No matter how much I struggle, a single strike from Artoria's holy sword can blow away a mountain."
Kay nodded bitterly.
No matter how much he polished his techniques, the innate difference in raw firepower was difficult to bridge.
Even if Excalibur were placed in Kay's hand, his magical energy would be depleted after a single use. In fact, he might collapse before he could even swing it.
"That is why I have been thinking about what a mediocre person like you needs to survive among those monsters and perfectly protect your family."
"What is it? Do you have some secret technique?"
Scáthach shook her head.
"No. What you need is not a special technique. Unfortunately, it would take you decades to master such things. What you need is not a special weapon or skill, but raw power."
Scáthach stood up, pulled Gáe Bolg from the ground, and walked toward the open plain. There, she began to draw complex and massive runic characters in the air.
Red magical energy danced in the air, forming a vast, geometrically complex circle.
"Do you know what this is?"
"…It looks like a summoning circle. Is it for calling magical beasts?"
"Correct. But it is not for simple beasts. It is a summoning circle for Heroic Spirits. I have modified it using Primordial Runes to implement it within this realm."
Scáthach pointed to the flashing red circle and spoke to Kay.
"Normally, summoning and commanding a Heroic Spirit is difficult even in the Age of Gods. However, it is possible if one has a catalyst like this realm. Especially in current Britain, maintaining such a state is viable. Kay, you will summon a Servant."
"A Servant… you want me to command a Heroic Spirit? Me?"
Kay blinked, unable to believe it.
Heroic Spirits. The heroes of myth and history. He was to summon and command such beings?
"Yes."
Scáthach approached Kay and gently cupped his cheek.
"I do not wish to see you return to Britain only to die a dog's death. If you are to be my first husband and partner, it would be a blow to my pride if you didn't have at least one legendary hero to use as a shield."
Though her words were blunt, her eyes were filled with sincere worry and affection for Kay.
Since she could not follow him to protect him, she was giving him an absolute power that could guard his back in her stead.
"…Scáthach."
Kay read her heart and smiled faintly.
He did not refuse. If it meant becoming stronger, and if it meant he could return proudly to his family, he was willing to do anything.
"Normally, one should not summon a Heroic Spirit for such a purpose. But Britain is an exception. As long as a device of destruction like Vortigern exists, we can excuse this as an extraordinary measure. In fact, that man is a monster I would personally love to fight. It is a shame I cannot leave this place."
"You actually want to fight him?"
"I'm bored of the creatures in this realm. If a Divine Spirit appeared, it might be different, but all that come are low-quality spirits fallen into malice. Opportunities to clash with a powerhouse like Vortigern are rare."
"Truly, you are so Ulster."
Kay chuckled, seeing that Scáthach was consistent in this regard. He didn't mind this side of her at all.
Kay had a basic understanding of Servants from his past life's knowledge. However, since it was only superficial, he didn't know any Servants other than Artoria and AUO.
"So, I only summon one Servant, right?"
"Hmm, originally I intended for you to summon only one. But with your current state, you should be able to manage up to three."
"Eh? What do you mean? You said I don't have much magical energy. How is that possible?"
"It is what one might call a shortcut."
Scáthach used rune magic to project a map of Britain and Ireland in the air.
"Magical energy does not necessarily have to be supplied solely by you. Unless summoned by the Counter Force, a Heroic Spirit needs an anchor to bind them to the physical world. In the distant future, the Holy Grail served as that anchor through the Holy Grail War."
"Since when did Jesus start a war?"
"I am not talking about that Grail. Regardless, my task is to create that anchor. And that anchor will be this very realm."
Scáthach explained that she would use the Shadow Realm as an anchor for the summoning, similar to the Holy Grail. Kay could only tilt his head in confusion.
"Then what happens when I leave for Britain?"
"You fool. I told you this is only possible because it is Britain. Geographically, this realm is located on the 'back side' of Britain. It was once part of the physical world. And since Britain is the navel of this planet, it has the most certain connection to the back side. Do you understand?"
"Ah, you mean like the fairy realms of Tír na nÓg or Avalon?"
"Exactly. Britain has always had direct gates to the hidden world, such as the fairy realm. In the case of Avalon, a certain dragon even carved a permanent physical entrance."
Scáthach was referring to the Mystic Albion, which was not yet known to the world. Normally, such a shortcut would be incredibly complex and require many steps, but Britain was a very special region on Earth.
Of course, this era was the last chance; by the next century, the final gates of the Age of Gods would close, making such shortcuts virtually impossible.
That was why this shortcut was only possible for Kay.
"Furthermore, because that Dream Demon forced the gates open, a distortion occurred in space. He even took the tower that stabilizes the world and turned it into a spear, which made this shortcut even easier."
"To think the day would come when Merlin is actually helpful."
Because Merlin had removed the tower—the anchor that prevented the front and back of Britain's world from flipping—interference had become relatively easier.
"The reason you can handle three is that I will carve Primordial Runes into you, linking the magical energy burden of the Servants to me and the realm. Of course, if you—the anchor (Master)—disappear, the Servants will vanish as well."
"Ah, I see. But if you're doing it for me, couldn't we do more?"
"Because you are mediocre, three is the absolute limit for you to handle the burden of being the anchor."
"Tsk."
"If you were a genius, you might have been able to summon all seven classes—provided that I and the realm bore the burden."
"Am I even a mediocre anchor?"
"A mediocre person is a mediocre person. Even your cooking skills—calling you a genius was just lip service. You are simply a mediocre person who worked hard enough to reach a genius level. A true genius would have reached your level in a year or two."
"You really know how to tear someone down."
"Stop talking and stand in the center of the circle. I will link my magical energy to your heart. Now, shout the most intense desire remaining in your soul. A Heroic Spirit who responds to the color of that desire will appear."
As he walked toward the circle, Kay asked one last question.
"No catalyst?"
"There are plenty. It would be easy to call my disciples, like Setanta or Fergus. However, a catalyst-less summoning is what suits you best. You might summon a weak spirit below average, but as long as they can support you, it is enough. A summoning without a catalyst will bring the Servant most compatible with you."
"Thanks for the consideration."
"Now, let us begin."
And so, the process of summoning Servants for Kay began.
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register