Chapter 29: Shadow Realm -12-

Since being granted Hippolyta’s Axe and the Mageblade of Light, Kay’s training had truly entered a new level of hell.

It was no longer about brute strength, but the delicate art of reading the flow of mana and applying Primordial Runes at precisely the right moment.

It happened one night during this grueling, bone-shaving regimen that paused for neither day nor night.

"Ugh… every joint in my body is throbbing."

Drenched in sweat, Kay dragged himself beyond the castle walls.

He wanted to escape Tamamo’s clingy flirtations and Medusa’s furtive glances, hoping to cool off and breathe the night air in peace.

The nights in the Abyssal Realm were always chilly, the air carrying a faint scent of iron filings mixed with the metallic tang of demonic blood.

Walking aimlessly along the outskirts of the Shadow Forest under a wash of ashen moonlight, Kay suddenly stopped.

Up ahead, a familiar silhouette sat perched upon the ruins of an ancient relic, staring blankly at the sky.

It was Jeanne d’Arc Alter, her black cloak billowing in the wind.

The venomous glare and irritated expression she usually wore were gone. Hugging her knees, her small frame looked profoundly lonely and desolate amidst the vast silence of the Abyssal Realm.

"Jeanne?"

"…Ah! Wh-What?! Where did you come from?! You didn’t even make a sound!"

Startled by Kay’s voice, Jeanne d’Arc Alter bolted upright. She instinctively gripped the pitch-black banner at her side, slipping into a defensive stance, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of genuine fluster.

"Sorry if I startled you. I was just out for a night walk. Why aren’t you asleep? Aren’t you cold out here?"

Ignoring her sharp reaction, Kay strolled over and perched himself on the edge of the rock beside her.

At the sudden proximity, Jeanne d’Arc Alter flinched, her lips curling into a pout.

"Hmph, Servants don’t feel the cold. And that castle is too noisy to get any sleep. Every night, you’ve got those animals in heat acting like beasts right outside your bedroom. I got annoyed and came out for some air, that's all!"

In truth, the sounds drifting from Kay’s room had left her feeling flushed and inexplicably irritated, forcing her to flee—though she would rather die than admit it.

"Ah… about that, I’m sorry. I couldn't really keep them under control."

Kay scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

An awkward silence settled between them. Though the night was freezing and there was no fire to warm them, a faint heat radiating from Kay’s large frame brushed gently against Jeanne d’Arc Alter’s skin.

"…Hey."

After a long pause, Jeanne d’Arc Alter spoke first, her gaze still fixed on the stars.

"Are you… really planning to go back to Britain or whatever?"

"Of course. My siblings and my niece are there."

"How stupid."

Jeanne d’Arc Alter hugged her knees tighter, her voice snapping with a sharpness that trembled slightly at the edges.

"What guarantee do you have that they’re even waiting for you? Humans are creatures of betrayal. They forget every kindness, and the moment you're no longer useful, they'll burn you alive without a second thought. That is the true nature of those worthless scumbags."

She was speaking of her own tragedy.

The harrowing memory of Saint Joan of Arc, betrayed by the very people she had sacrificed her life to save, ending in the flames of the stake.

Even if she wasn't the real Joan, the memory remained vivid and visceral.

She was projecting her own scars onto Kay.

"Even if you work yourself to the bone to return, they might have already forgotten you. Or worse, they might throw stones at you. Isn't that how it works? Even the taste of the food you made for them will fade with time."

Her voice held less hatred for the world and more of a primal, deep-seated fear of being hurt.

She didn't want to see Kay suffer. *So just don't expect anything.* It was her own clumsy, twisted way of offering comfort.

Kay gazed silently at her face, framed by the night breeze.

She looked so much like his sister. Yet her soul was fragile, curled up like a hedgehog bristling with quills to keep the world away.

"…Maybe you're right."

At Kay’s blunt admission, Jeanne d’Arc Alter whipped her head around.

"See! I told you! So it's just a pointless waste of—"

"But I'm still going back."

Kay looked up at the night sky, a faint but infinitely warm smile touching his lips.

"I won't deny that humans betray. I've spent enough time in the dirt to know that. But listen, Jeanne—I'm no saint or hero. I didn't cook for them because I wanted a reward or praise."

Kay’s thick hand slowly clenched into a fist on his knee.

"I don't care if they forget the taste of my food. It's fine if they call me a monster and throw stones. I just… want the family I love to be fed, warm, and laughing together in a room. Even if I'm the one who gets hurt, as long as I can protect that everyday life, my life is a success. The responsibility of a head of the household is, by nature, a foolish and unprofitable endeavor."

"…You, really."

Jeanne d’Arc Alter was speechless.

No logic of an Avenger, fueled by a desire for vengeance against the world, could refute this man’s blind, humble altruism.

It wasn't the grand, abstract philanthropy of a saint. It was a deeply personal, earthy love that smelled of soil and home-cooked meals.

"And above all… I like you, Jeanne."

"…W-What?!"

The sudden, direct confession hit like a physical blow. Jeanne d’Arc Alter’s pale cheeks exploded into a brilliant scarlet, and her eyes darted wildly in panic.

"Y-You! What nonsense are you spouting all of a sudden?! Are you insane?!"

"It's not nonsense. I know that despite all your grumbling, you're actually very soft-hearted."

Kay chuckled and scooted a few inches closer.

"You act like you want to burn everything to ashes, but you're amazing at controlling the heat when I cook. You nail the temperature perfectly—crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside. Thanks to you, cooking has become so much easier."

"T-That's just… I only did it because I'd be annoyed if the meat tasted bad! Don't get the wrong idea! I didn't do it because I like you, I just… it was cold, so I wanted the food to be warm!"

"Sure, let's go with that. Anyway, thank you. I'm glad you're by my side. I'll be counting on you to watch my back."

Kay reached out.

His rough, scarred, yet immensely warm hand landed softly on Jeanne d’Arc Alter’s head.

Then, with great care, he began to stroke her soft hair.

"…Ah."

Jeanne d’Arc Alter’s shoulders twitched.

The moment his warmth touched her, the loneliness and hatred frozen in her marrow felt as though they were melting away like spring snow.

It was a familiar, affectionate touch, the kind he might give a younger sister.

But to Jeanne d’Arc Alter, it was the first time in her existence that she had felt such unconditional affirmation and warmth.

*…This is so annoying. He's just a stupid dope who only knows how to cook… so why is my heart racing like this? I feel like I'm going crazy.*

Unable to bring herself to look up, she buried her forehead deep into her knees.

"…Do whatever you want, idiot."

That barely audible murmur was the only rebellion she could muster.

That awkward night walk became the decisive moment when the walls of the tsundere's heart came crashing down.

Much time passed after that.

In the Abyssal Realm, it felt as though a year had gone by.

Every night, Kay endured the relentless attention of Tamamo, Medusa, and Scáthach, yet he always found time to be alone with Jeanne d’Arc Alter.

When he maintained his weapons, she would stay by his side, using her flames to burn away impurities from the blades. And whenever he collapsed from exhaustion after training, she was always the one to toss him a damp towel, though she never stopped grumbling while doing so.

And finally.

One morning, as Kay lifted his heavy eyelids…

"…Hmm."

He saw someone sleeping soundly beside him, their breathing soft and rhythmic.

The cumbersome black armor and cloak she usually wore were gone. Draped only in a thin blanket, a dazzlingly white, naked girl clung to Kay’s firm, bare chest.

"…Jeanne?"

As Kay shifted in surprise, she snapped awake with a sleepy pout.

For a heartbeat, her half-asleep eyes met Kay’s bewildered gaze.

"…!!"

Jeanne d’Arc Alter’s pale face flushed a deep crimson in an instant.

The memories of the previous night rushed back like a storm—how she had finally lost her patience, shoved the others aside, and practically broke down the bedroom door to get to him.

The usual prickly persona had vanished, replaced by the vivid, embarrassing memory of her clinging to his waist all night, sobbing and begging him to be kind only to her.

"Hey! Hey!! Where are you looking?! Close your eyes!! I'll kill you, you pervert!!"

In her panic, she grabbed a pillow and began pummeling Kay’s face, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Ow! Stop! It hurts! You were clinging to me so happily last night, why are you hitting me first thing in the morning?!"

"Who was clinging?! I only did it because I felt sorry for you, okay?! Don't get the wrong idea! I didn't do it because I like you, it was just… it was cold, so I shared some body heat!"

Jeanne d’Arc Alter wrapped herself tightly in the blanket and scrambled to the corner of the bed.

However, her wiggling toes peeking out from the fabric and the redness extending to the nape of her neck made it painfully obvious how intensely she was aware of him.

Kay pushed the pillow aside with a chuckle and reached over the blanket to stroke her head.

"Alright, alright. We'll just say it was because you were cold."

The tsundere had completely fallen.

With this, all three Servants had formed a perfect bond with Kay, both physically and spiritually.

Time continued to flow, and eventually, the fifth year since falling into the Abyssal Realm arrived.

Kay stood in the center of the ashen wasteland.

"Now, it's time to go back."

Having finally earned Scáthach’s recognition of his strength, the only thing left for Kay was to return to Britain.

Scáthach watched him, the moonlight silhouetting her figure.

She was not in her usual rigid, imposing queenly posture. Her expression was strangely soft, and most notably, one hand was protectively cradling her lower abdomen.

"Kay."

"Yeah?"

"You are returning to Britain now. You will no longer lose to any knight or hero you encounter."

Scáthach stepped forward and took Kay’s hand, guiding it to rest gently upon her stomach.

"…Huh?"

Kay’s eyes widened.

Beneath her toned abdominal muscles, he felt a faint but unmistakable pulse.

"Scáthach… this can't be."

"It is."

Scáthach smiled faintly.

"Your bloodline has taken root within me. Your tenacious life force managed to pierce through Celtic divinity and sprout a seed."

"Pregnant… You're pregnant?! You?!"

Kay felt as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt, his mind going blank.

Confusion preceded joy. Why tell him this right before his departure?

"Why… why tell me only now? If you had told me sooner…!"

"And if I had? You would have spent your time worrying instead of focusing on your training. And… you might have given up on returning to Britain just to stay by my side."

Scáthach stroked Kay’s cheek.

"Did you think I was unaware of your damned kind nature? You cherish siblings who aren't even related to you; if you knew your own child was coming, you would never have been able to leave me."

"…!"

Struck by the truth, Kay was speechless.

She was right. He had loved those unrelated to him as family; his own flesh and blood would be an obsession. He would never have left.

His eyes wavered.

His siblings and Gareth waiting in Britain, and Scáthach, who would have to endure the pregnancy and birth alone in the Abyssal Realm.

"Scáthach, I—"

"Do not waver."

Scáthach gripped his hand firmly.

"I am the Godslayer and the sovereign of the Abyssal Realm, Scáthach. Did you think I would fear giving birth alone like some fragile human woman? On the contrary, this child is the strongest guarantee and blessing to ensure your safe return to Britain."

She looked him straight in the eyes.

"Go, Kay. Go and reclaim the everyday life you fought so hard to protect. On the day you return as a man who can be a father this child is proud of, I will gladly place them in your arms."

As a mentor, she could not block her pupil's path.

Faced with her noble resolve, Kay fought back a surge of tears and nodded.

"…Alright. I promise I'll survive, become a great father, and come back for you."

Kay knelt carefully and pressed his face against her stomach.

"In exchange, let me name the child."

"Very well. What name have you chosen?"

"…Uersaha."

Kay whispered softly.

"Uersaha… A strong and beautiful name. I like it."

Scáthach brushed his hair back and smiled tenderly.

Tamamo had plenty to say about the situation, but for once, she decided to remain silent.

Soon after, a massive dimensional gate tore open in the sky of the Abyssal Realm.

It was a swirling vortex of mana, a passage leading back to Britain.

With the Golden Axe on his back and the Mageblade at his hip, Kay stood before the gate alongside his Servants.

He looked back one last time to see Scáthach watching him with her arms crossed.

"…I'll be back."

Kay gave a firm nod and threw himself into the vortex of light.

Five years of training in the Abyssal Realm.

He had pushed a mediocre body to its absolute limit, acquired legendary armaments, and forged bonds with three Servants—all while leaving his own bloodline behind.

Knowing he might never be able to return to this realm, he still stepped forward into the light.

He departed for his homeland without seeing his child born. He knew that if he stayed for the birth, his resolve would crumble. And if he took the child with him, Scáthach would be cast back into her eternal, agonizing solitude.

Perhaps this was his final gift and repayment to her. To the loneliest and mightiest of witches, he had given the gift of family.

"Farewell… you foolish husband."

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