"That concludes today's training."
Scáthach's voice echoed across the silent field, firm and serene as ever.
She spun her spear in a precise, fluid motion, the crimson blade slicing through the air before she rested it at her side. Her gaze then shifted to Arthur, who was sitting on the stone ground, his chest rising and falling unevenly as short, ragged breaths escaped his lips.
"Th-thank you… Master."
Arthur's voice came out hoarse, almost giving way. His forehead was completely soaked with sweat, small droplets running down his face—far too pale, even for someone utterly exhausted. Still, forcing his body beyond its limits, he planted his hands on the ground and managed to stand.
His legs trembled visibly.
Even so, Arthur straightened his back and bowed respectfully toward Scáthach.
She watched the gesture in silence.
The cold, razor-sharp look she usually reserved for her other students softened, if only imperceptibly.
Among all the apprentices she had ever trained—be they warriors or heroes—Arthur might not have been the most gifted in raw talent.
But even so…
If there was someone Scáthach held in higher regard than the rest, it was him.
Because Arthur never saw training as a burden.
He never treated her words as empty orders.
And above all, he was genuinely grateful to her.
Every single day, at the end of each session, no matter how exhausted he was, he always gave his thanks.
To a master, that silent acknowledgment was worth more than any innate talent.
And besides…
Scáthach knew it.
Today, she had pushed him too far.
Looking at Arthur, who seemed only a step away from collapsing unconscious, she asked,
"Are you planning to stay here for a while before heading back on your own today?"
"Yes." Arthur took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs. "If I lack natural talent, then I have to make up for it with effort."
Even while panting, his eyes were steady, filled with unwavering determination.
"'Only the strong survive in this world'… that's what you taught me, Master."
Scáthach nodded slowly.
"Yes. Only the strong survive in this world." She paused briefly. "But even the strong must learn to rest from time to time."
She reached out and gently patted Arthur on the head—a surprisingly tender gesture from the woman known as the Queen of the Land of Shadows.
"Until you come of age, stay by my side," she said in a lower tone. "As long as you are my apprentice, I will ensure that nothing harms you."
"Master…" Arthur looked up at her, clearly moved.
"This is not affection," Scáthach replied, turning her gaze away. "It is simply my responsibility as your mentor."
She then pointed toward the crimson spear planted at the edge of the field.
"Be careful on your way back. You expended too much energy today. Keep this weapon with you for now." She continued, "If you encounter any danger, just throw it."
Arthur's eyes widened slightly.
"But… isn't this your personal weapon, Master…?"
"Take it and protect yourself if necessary," she answered immediately.
She flicked his forehead sharply with her finger.
"And be grateful," she added. "If you were anyone else, I'd probably still be training you right now."
Without another word, Scáthach turned and walked away, her figure slowly disappearing among the trees.
Arthur raised a hand to his forehead, feeling the faint sting from the flick, and watched until she vanished completely.
Only then did he let himself fall back onto the ground, releasing a long sigh.
"Master really worries too much about my age…" he muttered. "And on top of that, she's pretty vindictive. I'll have to be more careful next time."
The truth was simple.
Arthur's physical endurance had never been his strong suit.
After that brutal training session, he was dangerously close to his absolute limit.
His gaze drifted to the spear resting beside him.
The crimson blade seemed almost alive, covered in an intricate and ancient array of symbols carved along the shaft and the blade.
Runes.
Runic script.
The power that, according to legend, Odin—the All-Father—had obtained through unimaginable sacrifice… and which Scáthach now wielded as naturally as breathing.
And that only reinforced a thought that had always troubled Arthur.
"Scáthach always carries a staff with her…"
Logically speaking, Scáthach and Skadi should not be the same entity.
And yet, their powers seemed… fused.
It was far too strange.
Arthur quickly shook his head, pushing the thought aside.
It didn't matter right now.
His sole objective was clear: to grow stronger. Strong enough to never be placed in danger again.
Perhaps in the future, he could find a way to resolve the conflict between Scáthach and her sister.
After all, in the neighboring land to the Land of Shadows, there existed another hostile nation: Alba.
And the queen of Alba was Aífe—Scáthach's sister.
Suddenly—
A faint rustling came from the nearby bushes.
Arthur's attention snapped instantly toward the sound.
Whoosh!
A colossal wolf leapt from the undergrowth, several times larger than him. Its scarlet jaws were wide open, exuding a horrific stench of rotting flesh and blood.
The area surrounding the Land of Shadows was known for its natural barriers… and for the monsters that dwelled within them.
Even so, Arthur remained seated.
He did not draw the spear.
He did not dodge.
He did not show fear.
He merely watched calmly as the demonic wolf lunged toward him.
Then—
The sound of wings cutting through the air rang out.
A black raven descended, circling above.
In the next instant, the wolf's attack was abruptly interrupted. Its body slammed vertically into the ground, convulsing violently, its muscles spasming chaotically until it finally went still.
The raven landed precisely on Arthur's left shoulder.
It turned its head slowly, revealing glowing crimson eyes filled with something ancient and sinister.
"You have a great deal of courage, Arthur."
Arthur did not move.
"It's not courage," he replied calmly. "I just knew you wouldn't abandon me."
Despite being only fifteen years old, his tone was steady and controlled, completely devoid of fear.
The raven tilted its head slightly.
"That woman truly cares for you…" it murmured. "She was willing to leave behind her most beloved spear to protect you."
(End of Chapter)
I admit that I'm loving working on this fanfic