Three years in the Shadow Realm.
It was as if eternity itself gouged Kay's flesh and bones apart, then pieced him back together.
Kay vaulted off the ground and drove his crude sword downward from overhead.
Both his strength and speed had grown so razor-sharp they were incomparable to when he first fell into the demiplane. The slash of blade cutting through the air echoed chillingly.
"Straightforward. You've focused only on speed."
Scáthach didn't move an inch, using the butt of her spear to flick Kay's sword aside.
That light strike mercilessly twisted the trajectory of his sword.
"Guh!"
Kay tried to force his stance back, but Scáthach's spear already arced toward his wrist.
KAAANG!
The shockwave sent his sword flying from his hand. The blade spun through the air before embedding itself in the ashen ground far away.
"Losing your weapon… you're disqualified as a warrior."
The moment his weapon flew off, Kay engaged in hand-to-hand combat.
Kay seized the brief opening when Scáthach swept her spear aside and charged into her midst.
PUFF!
His fists, knees, and elbows rained blows at Scáthach's vital points without pause.
But Scáthach remained unruffled. With her spear turned behind her back, she swept aside every strike with just one hand.
"Good spirit. Yet you're far from it. Your movements are full of emotion, so they're far too easy to read."
As Scáthach pushed Kay's punch aside with the back of her hand, she aimed for his jaw.
"I threw that so you could read it!"
Kay flexed every muscle in his body and unleashed his killer right hook, loaded with all his weight and rotational force.
That single blow carried the full force of Kay's will.
Scáthach lifted her left arm to block.
Foolish mortal. With a strike on that trajectory, I can easily parry and counter…
At that moment, Kay's eyes flashed.
As if it were going to explode, the power in his right shoulder drained in an instant.
Scáthach's eyes shook visibly for the first time.
A feint to lure in my guard?
His right hand was the decoy.
The real force came from the rotation carried up through his waist from his firmly planted left foot.
Twisting his torso, Kay sent a crushing left uppercut from below—right into Scáthach's blind spot—with perfect trajectory.
THUD!!!
The heavy impact ripped through the air of the Shadow Realm.
It wasn't Cu Chulainn's spear or Fergus's sword. It was just the crude fist of a cook who made meals for his younger sisters.
But that fist struck exactly at Scáthach's side.
"…!!"
Scáthach's eyes widened. She had never felt such a vivid blow before.
The witch's body, honed to its very core, had been struck at its source. Yet that flawless strike, slicing through her momentary opening, delivered a shock unfamiliar even to her.
The shock unleashed the warrior instinct she had suppressed for centuries.
"You…!"
Scáthach's crimson eyes glinted coldly as her spear swung like lightning.
An instinctive counterattack. A fatal killing intent washed over Kay's entire body.
A whirlwind rose, sending Kay's hair flying.
The cold steel of the crimson spear stopped just one millimeter from Kay's throat. The sheer air pressure pouring off its tip drew a bead of blood at his jugular.
Silence.
Only the sound of his ragged breathing hung in the air.
"…Haah. Damn. That was too close."
Kay lay flat out on the ground, drenched in cold sweat. His strength ebbed from every limb.
Scáthach alternated her gaze between her spear in hand and the panting Kay on the ground.
"…Ha, haha."
A mirthless laugh escaped her crimson lips.
"I nearly countered in earnest without realizing it. Never thought my own instinct would be drawn out by you."
Withdrawing her spear, Scáthach let out a chuckle.
After hundreds of years since the fall of Ulster, she had allowed a valid strike. And it came from a cook pupil with zero talent. Of course, he dealt almost no real damage.
She had only given him a blow strong enough to make her burn.
"Remarkable growth, Kay. You've exceeded my expectations. To slip the force at the moment and twist the trajectory… such relentless resolve."
"Hah… Haah… Well, of course. I… trained so much with image drills while chopping meat just to land that hit…"
Scáthach sat beside the fallen Kay and brushed aside his sweat-soaked hair.
"If it had been Setanta or other geniuses, they'd have landed valid strikes on me long ago. Your fists didn't even crack my bones, so the physical damage is next to nothing."
"…If you're going to praise me, at least finish it to the end."
"But what matters is that it landed. A promise is a promise. You gave me a valid hit."
The hue of heat began to glow in Scáthach's red eyes.
"I'll grant you the reward we agreed on. That which you coveted so much."
"…Oh? Really? What is it? Sigurd's magic sword? Or Dagda's Cauldron?"
Kay's eyes lit up as he sat up.
Scáthach stood and slowly pulled down the zipper of her purple tights as she spoke.
"I'll grant you the right to hold me. Come to my bedchamber."
"…Huh?"
Kay froze with a stunned expression.
His brain seemed to shut down as he gaped. Scáthach narrowed her brows at him.
"What's wrong? Don't tell me you refuse?"
Her heart jumped at the thought.
Emotions she'd buried as a woman surfaced for the first time in centuries.
In the past, Cu Chulainn had refused her bed. He'd only regarded her as a master and instead bedded her sister. The bitter memory surfaced, making her red eyes tremble slightly.
Is this one… rejecting me as well?
But.
"…Sob."
Suddenly, thick tears began to fall from Kay's eyes.
"Why… why are you crying?!"
Kay sat down on the ground and sobbed.
"Is it true… is it really what you'll do with me…?"
"I- I swear. Would I lie to you?"
"I… I've spent almost sixteen years… supporting my sisters… ugh!"
Kay's sorrow exploded.
He'd been something of a favorite among the village maidens, and if he'd wanted, he could've had plenty of chances to court them.
But with his days and nights consumed by caring for his younger sisters, he'd never had the time.
"I thought my virginity would end on this chopping block forever… And now I finally get a reward…"
Scáthach snorted at the absurdity.
Not the rejection she'd expected, nor a heroic anguish. It was merely the tearful joy of a virgin who'd waited years.
"So you're not saying you don't want an older woman? That's not it, right?"
Scáthach asked slyly, and Kay wiped his tears and snot with his sleeve before answering seriously.
"What does age matter? She's my sister, after all! Besides, who in the world would refuse to strip for someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you? Honestly, you're even my type."
It was a 100 percent genuine, blunt confession without a trace of deceit.
Scáthach felt a strange tickle in her heart at his frank, unpolished declaration.
More than the praise of countless heroes, the raw cry of this cook made her feel far better.
"Tch. Beastly man. Go wash and come to my room. I won't wait."
Scáthach turned her body away. A flush as red as centuries bloomed on her face.
That night.
With her whole being tense, Kay swallowed hard and opened the door to Scáthach's bedroom.
The room was lit by the soft glow of candles, and a strangely sweet fragrance lingered in the air.
"You've come."
On the bed, Scáthach lay on one side, completely naked, without a shred of cloth between her and the world.
Faced with her unshielded, overwhelming sensuality, Kay nearly lost the strength in his legs.
"Um… Master. Are you really going to do this?"
"A promise is a promise. And I too… my blood surges for the first time in centuries."
Scáthach's eyes glowed seductively.
In truth, this was her first time too.
Though she'd set the condition that only those who bested her could enter her bedchamber, no one had ever met it. Cu Chulainn might have qualified, but he bedded her sister instead.
Unintentionally, the witch had remained chaste for centuries, yet she maintained her composure as a consummate queen.
Kay stepped up to the bed and, with trembling hands, began removing his clothes one piece at a time.
Kay's revealed body was the epitome of compact muscle forged by three years of hellish training. Rough yet solid manhood.
Scáthach slowly surveyed Kay's body from head to toe.
Her gaze fell to his lower half and lingered on the object that had yet to fully awaken.
"Hm."
She nodded like an expert.
"Well, appropriate enough. That's a passing grade. But it still falls far short of the size of Fergus, who was called the Sex Legend──"
It was then.
Kay's patience, provoked by seeing Scáthach's naked form up close, crossed its limit.
THROB!
Instantly, his manhood swelled, drenched with blood.
It wasn't a mere expansion. It was the moment the beast sealed for years broke free.
"──Oh?"
Scáthach's eyes went wide.
The member she'd just judged "appropriate" now bulged with veins, transforming into a violently imposing size.
It wasn't just length—it boasted overwhelming girth and presence.
Compared even to the legendary Sex Legend Fergus of her memories, it didn't pale—nay, it was possibly more monstrous.
It was the male magical sword approaching the perfection of the body she had forged.
"This… what in the world…"
Scáthach swallowed involuntarily.
The queen's leisurely expression instantly filled with tension and anticipation. She felt her thighs flush hot.
"…Sorry, Master. I held out for over a decade."
Kay, breathing like a beast, leapt onto the bed. His rational mind had long since flown away.
"Heh heh… astonishing, Kay. You've overturned my expectations once in battle and now again in bed."
Scáthach licked her lips as she wrapped her arms around Kay's neck, who loomed over her.
"Let's see if that incredible stamina of yours also holds at night… Feel free to test it to your heart's content."
That night.
Within the deep fortress of the demiplane, the grunts and screams—whether of death or ecstasy—like those of wild beasts, continued unceasingly through the night.
The next morning.
Kay opened his eyes to muscles that felt as if he'd been beaten all over.
The memories of last night crashed back on him like a storm. It had been a fiercer fight than any training—Celtic night combat to the death in the flesh.
"You're awake."
A languid voice came from beside him.
Scáthach lay half-covered by the blankets, chin propped on her hand as she looked down at Kay.
Instead of her usual icy coolness, her face bore the languid, seductive smile of a woman who'd just woken from deep sleep.
"Um… good morning. How's your back?"
"Hmph, how about you? I never thought I'd declare defeat on a bed. Your relentless stamina… and that monstrous weapon of yours left me no chance."
Scáthach admitted her defeat honestly, cheeks reddening.
Her first defeat in her entire life. Yet it was unsurpassably sweet.
"Kay."
Scáthach gently stroked Kay's cheek.
"I make you my consort. Here in the Shadow Realm, as my husband, stay by my side forever."
It was the queen's proposal.
But Kay remained unmoved by the sweet offer. He clenched the blanket and averted his gaze.
"…I'll have to give that some thought."
"What? Thought?"
"Last night was last night. My family back in Britain comes first. Someday I will return there, no matter what."
Kay turned his head shyly, but there was firm resolve in his voice.
Scáthach stared blankly for a moment and then let out a small snort of laughter.
"Hahaha… You're truly arrogant to the end, aren't you?"
She'd expected him to be enraptured by her charms and cling to her. But here he was, still playing hard to get after one night.
Yet his unwavering integrity only made her like him more.
"Fine. If you truly wish to go back, then break free from me completely and leave. But remember this, Kay."
Scáthach climbed atop Kay's body and whispered seductively in his ear.
"You will inevitably fall completely under my spell. So thoroughly will I tame you that you won't remember the women of Britain. This Scáthach will break you completely."
And with the queen's sweet declaration of war, the dawn of the demiplane arrived.
The once-boyish cook had, before he knew it, become a man, and his hellish life in the demiplane began to enter a new phase.