Multiverse's Holy Right

Roy's words left Scáthach momentarily stunned before she chuckled in amusement. "...Must you fuss over such trivialities? But I suppose being half-hidden does make one wary."

With that, Scáthach casually removed the mask covering her face, revealing an ethereal and breathtaking beauty.

Her delicate brows arched like distant mountains, her eyes deep and luminous. Her elegant nose flared slightly, and her flawless, porcelain-like face bore no imperfections. Her rosy lips, like a stroke of crimson in a painting, completed the vision. Combined with her alluring, curvaceous figure, the sight left Roy momentarily spellbound.

This was a woman whose very bones exuded tenderness and allure—yet the memory of her savage, frenzied fighting style sent a contradictory shiver down Roy's spine, snapping him back to reality.

"Is this enough for you?"

The Queen of the Land of Shadows tilted her head slightly, her eyes brimming with amusement as she asked, almost like a playful maiden.

"Yeah, yeah, it's enough..."

Roy nodded, though a faint regret lingered in his heart. This wasn't some martial arts novel where a glimpse beneath a heroine's veil would bind her to him for life.

Even though this woman had cast a shadow over his heart, the sight of her radiant beauty—her bright eyes and pearly teeth—still stirred an undeniable impulse within him.

Perhaps this is just how men are—even with reason intact, as long as they're normal, their thoughts will inevitably wander.

"Do you care a lot about appearances?"

With an undeniably feminine grace, Scáthach tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her languid expression tinged with a hint of ambiguity. Yet, her entire being exuded a sharpness akin to an unsheathed sword.

Roy opened his mouth, intending to deny it, but under Scáthach's gaze, he found himself unable to lie. Slowly, he nodded. "...Yes, I care about appearances."

That's right. Roy was fully aware that he was simply someone who valued looks—there was no shame in admitting it.

He just didn't know whether Cú Chulainn had been the same way in the past when facing Scáthach—whether he, too, had found himself involuntarily speaking the truth in her presence, no matter how embarrassing it might have been.

"There's no need to feel embarrassed. The ancient Celts, especially their warriors, lived lives filled with nothing but battle, wine, and the pursuit of pleasure with women. These were the basic desires of warriors, for they never knew when they might die in combat. And yet, they would greet death with a smile."

"...I don't dislike honesty and straightforwardness. Speak your mind openly in front of me, no matter how difficult it may be—as long as you can bear the consequences of your words."

For a moment, Roy couldn't quite grasp the true meaning behind Scáthach's words. Was she threatening him not to say certain things, or was she genuinely encouraging him to speak his mind without reservation?

'If I straight-up told her, 'You're gorgeous, I'd like to sleep with you,' would she impale me with her spear?' Roy mused silently.

"Judging by your expression, I can guess what you're thinking. I would run you through with my spear—not because your words would be disrespectful or insulting to me, but to teach you that whatever you say must be backed by the strength to match it. Otherwise, it's just empty bravado. If you had that strength, you could insult me, trample on me with your words, or even act on them—as you pleased."

Scáthach flashed Roy a bewitching smile, the scent of violets drifting from her alluring figure, exuding an intoxicating allure that left Roy's mouth dry.

It almost seemed as if she was anticipating the day Roy might reach that level.

Roy recalled what he knew of Celtic history. The Celts were an uncivilized, barbaric people, known for their extreme brutality and bloodshed. Whether Scáthach truly counted as one of them, he wasn't sure—but she had undoubtedly been deeply influenced by their culture. If that were the case, then her words now were absolutely sincere.

However, Roy didn't dwell on these thoughts for long, because—

Grrrrrrrr—

His stomach chose the worst possible moment to growl loudly. After the intense battle he'd just fought upon arriving here, he hadn't eaten in a long time. While a Campione could achieve incredible feats, they were still human at their core. Going without food for extended periods wouldn't kill him, but it would weaken his stamina—and by extension, his combat ability.

"Uh… is there any food here?" Roy asked awkwardly.

Scáthach was taken aback for a moment before letting out a wry laugh. "...It's been so long since I last ate anything. And it's been ages since any living soul came here. I forgot you still need food."

Hearing this, Roy had already given up hope about finding anything to eat. He glanced around—the place was utterly lifeless, with no signs of animals or crops.

After a moment of contemplation, Scáthach stood up and said, "...Come with me."

With that, she strode ahead on her long legs. Roy hesitated briefly before following.

Walking behind Scáthach, watching the sway of her figure, Roy's gaze instinctively drifted toward her hips and slender waist, then to her powerful, shapely legs encased in those purple, stocking-like tights. It immediately reminded him of the famous work "Big Breasts and Wide Hips" by the renowned author Mo Yan.

After a couple of glances, Roy averted his eyes.

Unexpectedly, Scáthach, still walking ahead without turning back, remarked, "...Be bolder. Don't be shy. Compared to furtive glances, I much prefer a gaze filled with desire. As long as you can sustain that desire—even use it as motivation."

Of course, Scáthach had noticed Roy's lingering looks. But she wasn't some bashful young girl who'd feel embarrassed. Instead, she encouraged him to indulge his desires openly rather than sneak peeks.

Hearing this, Roy shamelessly fixed his gaze on the alluring female form before him, while inwardly grumbling: 'No wonder she's a millennia-old Celtic woman—completely unashamed. And with the Wisdom of Dún Scáith to boot, it's like she can see right through me.'

They walked in silence for a while until Roy finally couldn't hold back. "...Lady Scáthach, is there no one else in the Land of Shadows?"

In Roy's understanding, based on Celtic lore, the Land of Shadows was the realm of the dead and a place where heroes trained. It should have been teeming with spirits.

Scáthach paused mid-step, tilting her head slightly as she chided, "...Don't call me Lady Scáthach. You're my disciple now—you should address me differently."

"Then... Shishou! Is there no one else in the Land of Shadows?"

Roy didn't dwell on the title. The master-disciple relationship was natural—there was no shame in learning from Scáthach. In fact, if the Queen of the Land of Shadows was willing to teach him everything, he'd be the one benefiting.

Hearing his address, Scáthach nodded in satisfaction and continued walking. "...In the past, the Land of Shadows was filled with spirits and warriors. But after my enlightenment, when the Land of Shadows and I moved beyond the world, those spirits and warriors couldn't survive outside the world... They all vanished."

Her tone was calm, but Roy sensed the loneliness beneath. Thousands of years spent alone in this desolate realm of the dead—Roy doubted he could endure such isolation without losing his mind.

"Shishou, have you never thought about leaving the Land of Shadows? With your power, you could return to the world proper, couldn't you?"

Roy asked curiously.

"Since I've already 'graduated' from the world, I should honestly remain as an outsider and no longer interfere with its development... Moreover, as the gatekeeper of the Land of Shadows, this is my duty and responsibility. Until my death, I will continue to guard this place, even if there are no longer any wandering souls trying to escape or warriors seeking to come here as disciples."

Scáthach spoke with a faint smile. Perhaps this was the way of life for the Queen of the Land of Shadows. On this matter, Roy had no right to comment, nor could he arrogantly deny her chosen path.

"Transcending from within the world to beyond its boundaries—this feeling somewhat resembles the Taoist concept of 'ascension,'" Roy mused thoughtfully.

Whether it was Scáthach's enlightenment that led her to the abyss, granting her its wisdom, or her journey from the world's interior to its exterior, Roy saw elements of both Buddhist and Taoist philosophy in her existence.

"That's terminology from Eastern culture, isn't it? I understand the meaning, though it may not be entirely accurate, the general idea isn't wrong."

"Alright, we've arrived!"

Scáthach stopped in front of a stone house with distinct Celtic styling.

"The Land of Shadows has no food of its own. In the past, when Celtic warriors came here to train, they would bring their own provisions. After the Land of Shadows moved beyond the world, those warriors perished here, but the food they brought remained."

"...The Land of Shadows is a realm of the dead. Even after thousands of years, those ingredients remain fresh and still edible."

As she spoke, Scáthach pushed open the stone door before them.

The door was spotless, without a trace of grime. Scáthach didn't seem like the type to clean regularly, which could only mean that in the Land of Shadows, even dust did not exist.

'There are ingredients here, looks like I'll have to cook for myself.'

Roy thought gloomily, missing Liliana more than ever at this moment. As for asking Scáthach to cook for him—Roy didn't even dare entertain the idea.

But Scáthach's actions left him stunned.

A rune seemed to flash across the tight-fitting outfit of the Queen of the Land of Shadows, and in the next moment, her attire transformed completely, replaced by modern homewear.

"Shishou, what are you doing?"

Dressed in casual home clothes, Scáthach appeared gentler and more delicate than when clad in her battle attire.

"You should be more comfortable with this look. I can tell you're the type who's been pampered and never had to fend for yourself. Let your master handle the cooking."

Scáthach smiled with her lips closed, like an older sister next door who always greets you with a gentle smile, making young boys idolize her as their dream goddess.

At that moment, Roy completely forgot about her ferocity, remembering only this tender, watery smile.

***

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