Chapter 62: The Witch of the Abyss -2-

An argent-white snowfield where even the flow of time had become meaningless.

Arthur had long since given up counting how many days had passed inside the barrier.

"Haaah!!"

He compressed the storm of [Invisible Air] and [Mana Burst] to the utmost into his bare fist, then fired it out. A heavy straight punch, as if it might warp space itself, shot toward Scathach's abdomen.

"Ho."

But Scathach smoothly deflected Arthur's fist with the shaft of Gae Bolg, then immediately snapped the end of the shaft up into his chin.

Thud!!

"Kgh!"

With a shock that felt as though his jaw had shattered, Arthur's body went tumbling across the snow.

But using the momentum of the fall, Arthur spun at once, kicked up snow to block Scathach's vision, and at the same time slipped into her blind spot and launched a kick.

Smack!

Arthur's foot struck Scathach's shoulder armor. It was not a perfect clean hit, but it was a blow that succeeded in disrupting her stance by the slightest margin.

"Haa... haa...."

As Arthur stepped back, breathing roughly, Scathach brushed dust from her shoulder and gave a faint smile.

"Not bad. It's close, but with this much skill and tenacity... yes, you're about on the level of Setanta at his prime."

At that praise-that-wasn't-quite-praise, Arthur flopped spread-eagle onto the snow and shouted in protest.

"No, wait a second! Wasn't Cu Chulainn the only warrior of his age who might actually have been able to kill you? If I'm on the level of that man in his prime, why is it this hard just to leave a scratch on you?!"

At Arthur's aggrieved complaint, Scathach planted her blood-red spear in the snow and chuckled.

"The time when Setanta had the possibility of killing me was centuries ago. Even after that brat died, I shut myself away in this eternal demonic realm and honed my martial skill for hundreds of years as naturally as breathing. As I am now, even if five Setantas at their peak came at me all at once, I could snap their necks without difficulty."

She looked up at the sky where the blizzard raged and added indifferently,

"In this bleak demonic realm, the only amusement is hunting wraiths and monsters. Living lazily does not suit my temperament as a warrior."

Her overwhelming might, and her obsessive fixation on martial skill.

As Arthur pushed himself up into a seated position, he looked at her profile, which somehow seemed lonely.

"Doesn't it feel unfair?"

"What does?"

"All you did was become strong. You simply trained yourself and surpassed human limits, yet that became your crime, and the gods exiled you to another world outside the human one. Doesn't that absurdity make you angry?"

At Arthur's serious question, Scathach fell silent for a moment. Then she flicked a finger, and in the middle of the snowfield a warm rune-bonfire flared to life, heating the cold air.

From somewhere, she produced the meat of a massive wild boar and began roasting it over the fire.

"If I said it did not feel unfair, that would be a lie. I did feel bitterness at the absurdity of being unable to meet rest like a warrior, as Setanta did."

She went on while gazing at the sizzling meat with detached eyes.

"But I am one who reached the highest realm a human can attain, and in the end even cut into the domain of the gods. It is the law of the world that something which has transcended humanity cannot remain in the world of humans. Besides... my being driven here was also, to some extent, my own doing."

"Your own doing?"

"Yes. I killed far too many of the gods who tried to make a move on me, along with the evil spirits and phantasmal species."

Scathach stated, with perfect calm, the horrifying truth that she had slaughtered gods.

"Why in the world were you going around killing gods like that?"

"Because every last one of them came at me like horny dogs, saying they wanted to fuck me."

Scathach gave a cold snort.

"Those wretches, who lacked even the worth to defeat me, dared to lust after my body. So I pierced every one of their arrogant throats. I earned the gods' hatred thoroughly because of it, but I have no regrets."

At her bloodthirsty answer, Arthur clicked his tongue inwardly.

'If those gods got horny, rushed her, and died for it, then they really did bring it on themselves.'

Nodding to himself, Arthur accepted the roasted pork Scathach casually tossed him and took a huge bite.

As the warm juices of the meat soothed his exhausted body, Arthur suddenly gave a regretful smile.

"Haah... after spending days like this with you, I'm already starting to feel reluctant at the thought of leaving you here and going."

"If you regret it so much, stay here forever. I'll amuse myself by separating your flesh from your bones until the day I die."

"I'll pass on that. There are too many people waiting for me in the outside world. There's a country I have to unify, and more than that..."

Arthur looked at the blazing bonfire and smiled softly.

"My child is due to be born soon."

"A child, hm."

Scathach let out a small laugh.

"That indifferent brat Setanta did not care in the slightest even when his own child was to be born. You really are different from those fools of Ulster."

"Ha, on that point, I'm disappointed in Cu Chulainn too. Becoming a father and then acting like your own child has nothing to do with you? That's a disgrace to any man."

To begin with, he had shown the irresponsible behavior of raping a woman, getting her pregnant, and then telling her to send the child to him after it was born and grown.

And that woman had been Scathach's younger sister.

Afterward, Cu Chulainn received the return on his deeds by failing to recognize his own son and killing him.

When Arthur spoke so firmly, Scathach nodded as if intrigued. Tearing into the roasted meat, she changed the subject.

"By the way, you said you were the king of Britain, did you not? Is not Britain now completely divided by those Picts in the north?"

"That's right. It's a headache."

"There were Picts on the island of Britain even in my age, but they were no more than a pack of savages little different from beasts. They were nowhere near enough to swallow half of Britain and form a great power as they have in the present age. If their intelligence rose at some point and they built a civilization, then surely it is because mutant-like heroes were born even among the Picts."

Arthur nodded at the queen's sharp insight.

"Exactly. The Picts had their first king as well. Cruithne, the founding king. That monstrous bastard lived for hundreds of years and built Pictland, and before he died, he divided his vast territory into seven parts and passed them on to his seven sons."

Arthur tossed a bone into the fire and smiled bitterly.

"Of course, even inside Pictland, where those seven kingdoms stand, our human petty kingdoms are still barely hanging on. There are places like the Kingdom of Garlot, ruled by my half-sister Elaine, or King Lot's Kingdom of Orkney, places that either joined hands with the Picts or resist them desperately. The problem is this."

Pressing at his brow, Arthur voiced his concern.

"If I launch a northern campaign and wipe out the Picts, then who exactly is supposed to rule that vast land, and how? Britain's population isn't enough to fill such a huge territory."

Hearing that, Scathach snorted.

"There is no need to overthink it. You need only display overwhelming power."

"Power?"

"Even if they built a civilization called Pictland, only a portion of the ruling class, the royal bloodline and heroes, possess outstanding intelligence. The overwhelming majority of the Picts are still merely a low-intelligence warrior race mad for blood and conflict."

Caressing the crimson spearhead of Gae Bolg, Scathach spoke coolly.

"They worship only strength. If you cut off the heads of their existing leaders and display a coercive, overwhelming power greater than any god or monster, reigning above them... those barbarians will instinctively worship and follow you as the strongest male."

"Hoh...."

Arthur's eyes flashed.

"Besides."

Scathach continued with a strange smile on her lips.

"The women of the Picts all boast voluptuous, luscious bodies, enough that even Fergus praised them without end."

At that, Arthur asked back in surprise.

"Huh? I only know those burly Pict men. They have women too?"

"Of course. In the end, they are a kind of phantasmal species that reproduces in a way very similar to humans. There is a reason they are called a single tribe. Even as a woman myself, I found the bodies of Pict females impressive."

At Scathach's vivid testimony, the phrase plan to exterminate the Picts was neatly deleted from Arthur's mind.

"Hmm... yes, extermination is too extreme an atrocity. As one destined to become a wise king, I should walk the path of conquest and integration, enlightening the Picts and embracing them as my people."

'Come to think of it, Tristan did say he had Pict blood. Then reproduction must be possible. Still, I thought it was only men, since they could have been born from violating human women. You know. Because only men showed up in FGO. Female Picts, huh.'

'Mm, if you ignore the face, that's pretty fuckable. I could even use illusion Magecraft to make only the face look normal. If even Fergus acknowledged them, it would be a waste. Mm-hm, I could just have Penthesilea create a Britain-version of the Amazons.'

Seeing Arthur shamelessly change the direction of his rule in an instant, Scathach let out a dumbfounded laugh.

"As expected of a Celtic man. You truly are lustful."

"That's just how men are. And honestly, wouldn't it be a crime to say Celtic women are any less lustful?"

When Arthur shot back glibly, Scathach did not deny it, and instead smiled with sensual allure.

She slowly rose from her seat and approached Arthur. The perfect curves revealed beneath her tight full-body suit gleamed seductively in the firelight.

"I admit it. To desire a strong male is the natural instinct of a warrior."

She bent at the waist and brought her red lips close to Arthur's ear.

"If, during the rest of your training, you succeed in landing even a single proper effective blow on my body... I will give you a chance to have me."

A dizzying offer from the pinnacle of spearmanship and the immortal queen, one no man could ever refuse.

But Arthur's answer completely missed Scathach's expectations.

"I refuse."

"...What?"

Arthur turned his gaze from the bonfire and looked straight into Scathach's crimson eyes, now filled with bewilderment.

There was no lust in his eyes now, only an unbending conviction that would never yield.

"No matter how greedy a king I may be, one who loves women and dreams of a harem, I absolutely hate loveless relationships. I don't want something as simple as a one-night stand."

Arthur slowly rose to his feet.

"At the very least... if you could leave this damned demonic realm with me and live on at my side, then maybe it would be different."

A cold wind swept across the snowfield.

Scathach gave no answer to Arthur's refusal, provocative yet heavy with possessiveness.

She merely stared quietly into his eyes in silence, a frigid, chilled smile resting on her lips.

Within that crimson gaze, whose depths could not be known, a tiny ripple stirred in the abyss of the queen whose time had lain frozen for eternity.

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