The first thing after he opened his eyes was a purple hue.
Not a vague color, not a blur of darkness, but a deep, living violet that filled his vision completely. Within it burned piercing red rubies, sharp enough that even through the haze clouding his senses, they cut through him with unsettling clarity.
For a moment, he thought he was still dying.
His body felt strangely light, not numb, but distant, as though sensation itself had been pushed several steps away from him. His thoughts came slowly, drifting rather than forming cleanly.
His vision swam.
"…Ah."
The sound left his throat without intention, dry and rough.
He blinked once.
Twice.
The world wavered but did not disappear. The purple hue remained. The red rubies remained. They were not afterimages or hallucinations.
They were real, and contrary to his expectations, he felt very much alive.
He drew a shallow breath, then another, and with a faint frown, he chanelled Touki toward his eyes. The flow was sluggish but obedient, washing through strained pathways and clearing the fog little by little.
He blinked again.
This time, the world sharpened.
And he saw her.
She stood a short distance away, framed by an unfamiliar landscape of dark stone and faintly glowing ground, her presence so immediate and overwhelming that everything else faded into irrelevance.
Long purple hair fell freely down her back, catching the dim light like polished silk. Her eyes, the same piercing crimson he had seen through the haze, regarded him calmly, without alarm, without curiosity yet sharp enough to be invasive.
She was beautiful.
No, that word felt insufficient the moment it formed. Just calling her beautiful might be an insult.
He had seen beauties before. Devils were surrounded by them. Power, allure, temptation, they came hand in hand in his world. He was not inexperienced, nor was he easily shaken by appearances alone.
And yet.
Something about her struck him differently.
It was not softness. It was not delicacy. It was not the fragile, curated beauty that begged to be protected or admired from a distance.
This was the beauty of something whole.
Complete.
A warrior who had endured long enough that strength had become quiet.
For several seconds, he simply stared.
She noticed.
A faint curve touched her lips, not quite a smile, more an acknowledgment.
"You're awake," she said.
Her voice was steady, unhurried, carrying neither relief nor tension. It was the voice of someone who had already accepted every possible outcome.
Magdaran swallowed.
"Did you save me?" he asked.
The words came out more plainly than he expected, without pride or defensiveness, stripped down to their simplest form. His voice was hoarse, a bit dry.
She inclined her head slightly.
"I patched you up a bit," she replied. "If that's what you mean. I am not a healer though, so it isn't perfectly done."
He processed that slowly.
Patched.
Not healed.
He tested his body carefully, not moving yet, just feeling. There was no screaming agony, no sensation of organs failing, no holy burn tearing through his core.
Pain existed, but not at a mortal threat level.
He had mostly stabilized, he could heal himself up with Senjutsu anytime now.
He let out a quiet breath.
"No," he said after a moment. "That's more than enough."
Her gaze lingered on him for a second longer, assessing, then she turned and walked a few steps closer, stopping just far enough away to respect space without retreating.
"Can you stand?" she asked.
"I think so."
He pushed himself up slowly, expecting resistance that never came. His body obeyed with surprising ease, though a faint weakness still clung to his limbs. He sat upright first, then rose fully to his feet.
He swayed once.
She did not reach for him.
He corrected himself and straightened.
"Thank you," he said, meeting her eyes properly now.
She studied him openly, crimson gaze sharp and clear.
"You're welcome."
There was a pause.
Magdaran realized he was still looking at her.
Not scanning. Not assessing threat or power.
Just… looking, when he looked at her beauty, he was already captivated, and when he realized that she had saved him... he already might have had fallen in love.
It was strange...
Never in his life had he ever been saved by anyone, so this first time sure did have it's impact.
From his database, there were many such stories, warriors being injured after their battles, only to be saved and healed by a beautiful lady.
Now, experiencing that... experience, he knew for sure, the reason why they all fell in love without exceptions.
This feeling really was, rather magical.
He cleared his throat, intending to start a conversation, for he did not even know her name.
"My name is Magdaran, Magdaran Bael." he said. "May I know who you are?"
Her expression shifted slightly, something like amusement flickering beneath the surface.
"Scáthach," she replied. "Queen of the Land of Shadows."
The words carried weight, not because she emphasized them, but because she didn't.
"And this place?" he asked.
She gestured lightly around them.
"Tír na Scáth," she said. "The realm you are currently standing in."
He contemplated the information he received, while muttering her name slightly...'Scathach...' What a beautiful name, he thought, now that he looked at her again, she did look exactly the same as her version from the Fate anime series.
He controlled his emotions.
'I have not done this in quite a while, but my previous mistake was enough to remind me that not doing this was a mistake...'
Data Point 1: The beautiful lady who healed me is Scáthach, the Queen of the Land of Shadows, Tír na Scáth.
Magdaran made that note seriously, going back to basics.
Land of Shadows...
He had heard the name before. Not in detail though, the mythological knowledge of the celtic myth defined it as a place between life and death.
The devils had some info about it... it was not very thorough, but enough to recognize it as something old. Something that did not belong neatly to the current age.
"I owe you my life..." he said after a moment. "If there is something I can do to repay that debt, name it."
Her lips curved upward this time, unmistakably a smile.
"You're strong," she said. "So… a battle."
For a heartbeat, he thought she was joking.
Then he laughed.
Not out of mockery, but genuine surprise.
"That's your repayment?" he asked.
"Yes."
He shook his head lightly, still smiling. "That's unexpected."
"Is it?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
He considered that, matched it with what he knew of her character.
"…No," he admitted. "Not really."
They stood in silence for a few seconds, the air between them oddly comfortable.
Then he asked, "What is it that you desire the most?"
Her smile faded.
Not abruptly, not dramatically, but completely.
"Death," she answered.
The word landed without force, yet it seemed to pierce his heart... He did not like hearing that, especially not from her...
Magdaran's smile vanished.
She looked away, not from shame, but from habit, gaze drifting toward the distant, shadowed horizon.
"Why?" He muttered, his voice exceptionally hoarse.
"This land of shadows," she said, her tone unchanged, "it isn't just my home. It's my prison too."
She paused, then continued.
"I am bound to it. I am immortal because of it. Yet I cannot leave this place. Not truly. My life…" her fingers curled slightly, "…has long since passed its meaning. Its purpose."
She looked back at him.
"So I want a proper warrior's death."
Data Point 2: Scáthach desires a true warrior's death, believing her immortal life has lost its purpose.
Magdaran did not respond immediately.
He studied her face, searching for hesitation, for hidden resentment, for some unspoken plea beneath the words.
He found none, but he could feel that there was a reason she was telling this to him.
"When you say this," he asked quietly, "why are you telling me?"
She smiled again, softer this time.
"Because I can sense your strength," she said. "And I know you can fulfill my wish."
She stepped a little closer.
"You are young," she continued. "That much is obvious. I do not recognize you, and I have not kept in touch with the outside world for several centuries. Which means you must have been born after that, meaning you are young, and have already reached this level of strength."
She met his gaze directly.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen," Magdaran replied.
For the first time since he woke up, her composure cracked.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"…Eighteen?" she repeated.
He nodded.
She stared at him for a long moment, then let out a slow breath.
"I would not have guessed," she admitted. "Not even remotely."
The silence that followed was different now.
He could feel something shifting, subtle but undeniable.
And without realizing when it happened, he found himself smiling again. The thought of this subtle flex of showing off in front of her pleased him somehow...
Time passed strangely in the Land of Shadows.
Not slowly, not quickly, but without urgency. Days did not announce themselves with sunrise or sunset, but with subtle shifts in the hue of the sky, with the way shadows lengthened or receded, with the quiet rhythm of existence continuing without demand.
Magdaran remained there.
He did not rush to leave.
He did not push his healing beyond what Scáthach had already done.
He did not want to heal himself, just to prolong his stay here...
They often talked in the meantime, something which pleased him, and Scathach too was lonely enough to deny that.
At first, it was simple.
Small careful questions to know about each other.
"So," Scáthach said one day as they sat on a stretch of dark stone overlooking a sea of shadowy mist, "how did you end up in this condition here?"
Magdaran exhaled slowly.
"It was my folly, honetly..." he said.
"I had been far too arrogant. I was exploring dimensions without any precautions, no anchors, no failsafes."
She turned her head slightly, listening. "That doesn't seem very smart..." she commented
"I stepped into the base of a strong enemy by mistake," he continued. "A Super Devil."
Her eyes narrowed.
"…Which one?"
"Rizevim Livan Lucifer."
She stopped walking.
Actually stopped.
Slowly, she turned fully toward him.
"That name," she said carefully, "I know of him, he is dangerous... Son of Lucifer, one of the few super devils of your race, he is powerful... even more powerful than Dagda..."
"He lived up to it, for those below the Super devil level, he is a nightmare to face." Magdaran replied dryly.
She studied his posture, his expression, then said, "Yet you survived."
"Barely," he admitted. "I fought him. His subordinates. A Lucifuge. Dozens of magicians. I was beaten half to death."
Her gaze sharpened. "And yet you're here."
He smiled faintly.
"I broke through," he said. "Super Devil class."
Her eyes widened, but she did not interrupt.
"I killed him, his subordinates." Magdaran added, then paused, realizing how it sounded. "…Then I destroyed the dimension too, erasing it all along with him."
There it was.
The slight lift of his chin.
The unconscious pride.
Scáthach noticed.
She chuckled softly. "You seem proud."
He blinked, then laughed quietly. "I suppose I am."
She laughed a bit, the jabbed "The state I found you in didn't seem to reflect that pride though."
"Everyone has their moments of weaknesses, I can only be thankful that I am like one of those warriors who are saved and healed by a beautiful lady after the hardest battle of their life like in some story..." He chuckled.
"Like a story huh..." Her tone turned a bit distant, she looked upwards, walking ahead of him.
They talked more after that, now, it wasn't always just Magdaran initiating the conversations, Scathach would do so too.
She also told him about herself.
"This land," she said one evening, standing with her arms crossed as the shadows rolled endlessly beneath them, "was once my sanctuary. Warriors came here seeking challenge, seeking growth."
"And now?" he asked.
"And now it is only quiet," she replied. "Too quiet."
She spoke of battles long past, of heroes who crossed blades with her and never returned, of moments when blood and purpose still flowed together.
"I outlived all of them," she said calmly. "Their ambition. Their fire. Even their hatred."
She laughed once, sharp and brief.
"There is nothing lonelier than being undefeated."
They walked together.
They sat together.
Sometimes they argued.
Sometimes they laughed.
Sometimes silence stretched between them, comfortable rather than awkward.
Magdaran did not rush his healing, even actively slowing it.
He could have healed.
He knew that.
Senjutsu stirred inside him, ready, waiting.
But every time he considered it, he stopped.
Because once he was healed…
He would have to choose.
Scáthach wanted a battle.
A true one.
To the death.
And not going all out would be the greatest insult he could give her. No matter how good of an impression he had built, doing that would finish it all...
Yet the thought of raising his hand against her made something twist painfully in his chest.
He found himself watching her more.
The way she moved.
The way she carried centuries of experience without bitterness.
The way her smile softened when she spoke of warriors who had earned her respect.
And somewhere along the way, without fanfare, without resistance…
He fell in love.
He did not hide it.
He flirted openly.
Shamelessly.
"You know," he said one day, reclining against a stone formation as she practiced spear movements nearby, "if I hadn't nearly died, this would be a very strange vacation."
She snorted. "You have strange standards."
"I was not talking about this land... I was talking about the company of the most beautiful Queen."
She glanced at him, amused. "Careful, devil."
"I am being careful," he replied. "I just refuse to lie."
She said nothing to that.
Fifteen days passed, He had sent a message back to his peerage to inform them that he would be out for a while.
It was mostly to inform them that he was alive, he was sure that the news of his battle might have reached my factions, and there must be chaos, but he was not in the mind to pay attention to that now.
On the fifteenth day, something finally settled inside him.
A plan... A plan which might solve everything.
He found her standing at the edge of the balcony, looking out into the endless shadows.
"Scáthach," he said.
She turned.
He did not smile.
"Tell me something," he said seriously. "Do you want to die because you do not want to live anymore, or is it because you believe you have no purpose left?"
She frowned slightly, considering.
"I do not hate life," she said slowly. "I just see no purpose for it anymore. If I had a purpose… then maybe."
The answer was enough.
A smile bloomed on his face.
He stepped closer.
"Then listen to me," he said. "Because I need to say this."
She watched him carefully.
"I fell in love with you," Magdaran said. "The moment I opened my eyes and saw you."
Her breath caught.
"I had just survived the most traumatic battle of my life, Although it is rather disgraceful to say this, yet when I experienced death that close... I was scared, scared to lose everything..." he continued.
"And yet, the moment I saw you, I forgot all of it. Everything else disappeared. All I could think about… was you. Scathach... I seem to have fallen in love with you..."
She reached out and gently caressed his face.
"I know," she said softly. "I could see it."
She hesitated, then smiled gently.
"Child… no. Magdaran. I felt your love blooming.
But I am the warrior queen. Your feelings alone are not enough to impress me. And you are not the first to confess to me."
She met his eyes.
"If you want to win my heart, win it through battle.
I will give you the same condition as I have to all those who have proposed me before you.
Defeat me, and I am yours.
Though, I will remind you, I have never lost a battle, not once."
A wry smile appeared on his face.
"It's a paradox, isn't it?" he said quietly. "You want a battle to the death. If I defeat you, you die. Whether I win or lose… all I experience is heartbreak."
She looked away, guilt filling her face.
"I am sorry," she said, genuinely.
He inhaled, then asked, "Then tell me this. If I defeat you, free you from this prison, and win your heart… and still manage to bring you back with me… would you become mine?"
She answered without hesitation.
"Yes. My body and soul would be pledged to you."
He shook his head.
"No," he said. "I don't want that. I don't want your body or soul. I don't want your servitude."
She looked surprised.
"In your culture," he continued, "there was a marriage vow, made between two people in love..."
He recited it slowly, clearly.
"It went like this,
You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself.
But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give.
You cannot command me, for I am a free person.
But I shall serve you in those ways you require,
and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand."
"I want that," he said. "A partner. A lover... Not a slave."
She laughed softly.
"You are surprisingly honorable for a devil."
"And vain enough to already have three women promised," he admitted. "Yet I still fell in love with you."
She smiled. "That does not bother me much. Strong men often had multiple women, and even if I am the warrior queen, if you impress me enough in that battle, I will agree to become one of your women without any resentment."
"Good. I mean great... I meant, I am thankful you think so."
He straightened.
"Then let us begin the fight. Right now."
She raised an eyebrow. "Now? Are you sure you are healed?"
Then her eyes turned dangerous, "Or, do you think you can defeat me even while injured?"
He answered without words,
Senjutsu surged.
In an instant, his body restored itself completely.
Scáthach's eyes widened.
"You could already heal yourself?" she asked. "Why wait until now?"
He met her gaze.
"Maybe I was not ready until now. Maybe you might have asked me to leave once I was healed..."
She smiled a bit at his words, "I would not have done that, I too enjoyed your company quite a bit..."
"That pleases me more than you think it would, so, shall we begin our battle now?" He smiled.
And then, he took his stance, ready for a battle.
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Sorry to say this, but chapter uploads might turn a bit erratic from now, for a week or two, my exams have ended, and there's a vacation, so I am going back home.
Now, I am either going to have the entire day to myself, getting bored at home, or I might just spend all the time outside with friends, there's no definitive answer.
Anyways, I might upload more chapters, or less chapters, I don't know yet, but yes, uploading schedule will be affected a bit.