Chapter 64: The Witch of the Abyss -4-

After the storm that had felt eternal finally passed, a strange languor and warmth lingered inside the makeshift shelter raised upon the argent-white snowfield.

How many hours had it gone on? The traces of the savage, primal exchange of mana born from the entanglement of the immortal queen who tore gods and monsters to pieces and the incarnation of the red dragon whose seal had only just been broken remained vividly scattered all across the snow.

"Haa... It feels like every bone in my body has been crushed to pieces. I think I finally understand, at least a little, how the women Zeus set his sights on and devoured must have felt."

Arthur, sprawled flat on the snow and catching his ragged breath, let out an empty laugh.

Between the agony of awakening as the red dragon and his violent night of play with Scathach, his body had been thoroughly wrecked.

Lying beside him at a languid angle, Scathach traced a rune in the air, formed a goblet, filled it with blood-red wine, and handed it to Arthur.

"Do not complain. At least you were not the one being pierced."

She giggled, a seductive curve rising at the corner of her lips.

Arthur accepted the wineglass as if she were impossible to deal with and took a sip.

"Even if this is the Age of Gods, a teacher overpowering her student and doing this... doesn't that picture look seriously strange?"

"That is simply how relations between men and women in myth tend to be. Besides..."

Scathach elegantly wet her lips with the rest of the wine, then lightly ran her finger down Arthur's firm chest.

"At first you resisted like a beast, but halfway through, were you not moving quite eagerly while wrapping your arms around my waist? For an impertinent little king, you showed rather splendid spirit."

"Ahem...!"

At her teasing joke, Arthur cleared his throat and avoided her gaze.

Once the restraint had been broken and the red dragon's savagery exploded, there was no denying that at some point he too had been swallowed by instinct and had fiercely lusted after her.

After a brief silence, Arthur's expression darkened with complicated thoughts.

"I've already... come inside you completely, so I doubt regretting it now would mean much."

Draining the rest of the wine, Arthur looked at Scathach with serious eyes.

"Do you think... you'll get pregnant?"

"Who knows. I had no intention of using contraception in the first place."

Scathach answered as if it were nothing.

"If your child grows within my womb, then that too would be the natural order of the world. I have no desire to defy it."

"You won't... do something like abort it, right?"

Arthur's voice was taut with heavy tension.

At that, Scathach frowned as though the very idea were absurd.

"Do I look like a woman who would do something so insane? No matter if I am the heartless queen of this demonic realm, I would never commit the act of erasing with my own hands the life I carry in my belly."

At that firm answer, Arthur let out a deep sigh of relief. The troubled look on his face eased somewhat.

"Thank goodness. I absolutely despise abortion too."

Arthur quietly murmured as he stared into the campfire.

"Whatever circumstances the adults may have, the child has no sin at all. Even if our relationship did not begin with love, but with your coercion... I cannot tolerate something like erasing a life."

Arthur was the sort who utterly loathed men like Cu Chulainn or Lancelot, who irresponsibly scattered their seed and ran away.

At his sincere sense of grave responsibility and affection toward life, Scathach's eyes softened.

She felt even the faintest private worry she had harbored-that this young king might try to pull away-vanish as if washed clean.

"But..."

Arthur spoke in a dark voice.

"Once I leave, you'll have to give birth here alone, in this barren place, and raise the child by yourself."

"I am a woman who cannot leave this demonic realm. Then naturally, that is the burden I must bear."

"And that's exactly what's driving me mad."

Arthur covered his face with both hands as if in pain.

"I can't stay here long. You said time flows differently here and outside... but if I remain here and see the child be born, I don't think I'll be able to leave this demonic realm at all."

Whether he left the child in the demonic realm and went back to the outside world, or took a newborn with him and left Scathach behind alone.

Either choice was agonizing enough to carve away at his bones. For him, who had to unify Britain and save the future of those precious to him, there was no option of remaining here forever.

"I'm sorry. I... have to leave."

Arthur's sorrowful voice scattered into the blizzard.

Scathach gently caressed his cheek. It was the tender touch of a woman, one she had rarely shown anyone through eternal ages.

"There is nothing to apologize for. I am a woman accustomed to loneliness spanning countless ages. Besides, it is hardly rare for a warrior to bear a child alone and raise it strong as a beast, so do not worry. Walk your kingly path."

"No."

Arthur shook his head and tightly grasped the hand cupping his cheek. A fierce flame burned in his eyes, one that would never compromise.

"Wait for me. Once I've settled things in the outside world, I'll definitely get you out of this wretched demonic realm."

"Get me out? Arthur, that would mean defying the laws of the world. Even if the gods who once banished me all came back to life and clung together, it would still be impossible."

"The Holy Grail."

At the word that left Arthur's mouth, Scathach's shoulders stiffened.

"Not some counterfeit wish-granting device made by wandering magi. If it's the true grail, the omnipotent cup that brings about genuine miracles, then it can tear apart even the laws binding you."

Scathach fell silent for a moment, then let out a hollow laugh.

"Certainly, if it were the genuine Holy Grail, it might be possible. But Arthur, the true grail is not granted to just anyone. Only one with a perfectly stainless, innocent, and pure soul may hold that cup. A tyrant like you, stained with blood and honest about his desires, will never be given that qualification."

"I know. I know I don't have the qualification."

Arthur grinned.

"That's why I plan to gather the ones who do have it under me and ask them instead."

Percival, a knight of Arthur's own age who would one day be acknowledged by the Holy Grail.

And Galahad, though he had not yet been born-or perhaps had not-even now, the knight destined for the Grail.

If it were those two, they could surely find the true Holy Grail and bring forth a miracle.

"Hah... so in the end, King Arthur is fated to seek the Holy Grail after all."

Arthur could not help laughing bitterly to himself. That accursed Grail quest-he was about to begin it instead under the pretext of rescuing Scathach. It was a cruel jest of fate.

"You've already taken my heart, and you are my woman, one who may even be carrying my child."

Arthur declared boldly, pressing a kiss to the back of Scathach's hand.

"So get ready to say goodbye forever to this frozen homeland. Pack your things and wait for me."

Arthur's arrogant declaration spoke of the impossible without even a speck of doubt.

Feeling the unfamiliar sensation of her heart dropping, Scathach finally bloomed into a radiant and dangerous smile.

"Impertinent little king. Very well... I shall watch with pleasure from this demonic realm to see whether you can truly twist the laws of the world and come for me."

From that day on, throughout the remainder of his training, Arthur harshly learned how to perfectly control the vast mana of the red dragon now freed from its restraints.

Suppressing the savagery that sought to run wild with reason, and sensing how to efficiently circulate to the very tips of his limbs the energy pouring from his core with every breath.

By the time the training ended, Arthur's movements possessed a weight and explosive force on an entirely different level from before.

When the time for departure drew near, Scathach handed Arthur the repaired Caliburn. Along the once-broken blade, rune letters had been softly inscribed beside the fairy script, making it far sturdier than before.

"And this is my gift."

Scathach pulled something from the air and tossed it to Arthur.

What Arthur caught was a bizarre weapon of deep crimson.

"A three-section staff?"

The middle was a staff, while both ends took the form of short spiked spears linked by chains. From the spearheads poured the same ominous and powerful cursed mana as Gae Bolg.

"Why a three-section staff of all things?"

At Arthur's question, Scathach shrugged.

"I already gave a spear to that brat Setanta, so I disliked the idea of overlap. You already have excellent swords in Chrysaor and Caliburn, so there was no need for another blade. As for a bow, since you cannot materialize arrows on the spot, it would be useless. In that case, I judged that the form of a three-section staff, suited for close combat and irregular strikes, was the most fitting for your current physical abilities."

"A three-section-staff version of Gae Bolg..."

Arthur gave the red weapon a light swing. A vicious tearing sound split the air. It was a supreme weapon, possessing the toughness not to be pushed back even when clashing with swords, the sharpness of a spear, and the impact of a blunt weapon all at once.

"I like it a lot. Thanks, I'll put it to good use."

Arthur grinned and fastened the three-section staff at his waist.

When Scathach raised her staff and traced a rune in the air, a pitch-black rift leading to the present world split open in the middle of the argent-white snowfield.

Beyond the surging gate of time and space drifted the distinctive smell of the underground corridor of the Kingdom of Eden.

"Go."

Scathach folded her arms and jerked her chin.

"Once you return to the present world, the red dragon's blood will boil for a while, and it will be hard to control yourself. Start by taking care of that lovely family of yours."

Standing at the threshold of the demonic realm, Arthur looked back.

The queen with blood-red hair standing alone in the blizzard. Today, for some reason, she looked especially small and lonely.

Arthur smiled faintly and waved his hand.

"Don't say, 'Farewell.' Say, 'See you next time,' Teacher."

Scathach's crimson eyes widened slightly, then curved softly into the most beautiful smile in the world.

"Very well. Then let us meet again, my arrogant king."

Leaving her farewell behind, Arthur stepped without hesitation across the pitch-black threshold leading back to the present world.

He did not look. Or perhaps he knew, and that was why he did not look.

Because if he saw her true expression, if he saw the face that held that eternal loneliness and sorrow, he would not be able to leave.

Leaving behind the woman he had come to love, he returned to his own world.

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