Chapter 580: Abandon Everything.
The mansion door creaked as it was pushed open, the sound echoing through the silent hall. Scathach entered without asking permission, her firm footsteps echoing on the polished stone floor. Her gaze swept the room before she even crossed the threshold of the great hall.
Everyone was there.
Monica, arms crossed, leaning against the wall as if trying to appear disinterested.
Beatrice, sitting on the edge of the sofa, hands resting on her knees, her eyes fixed on Scathach.
Samira, always haughty, leaned back in the armchair with her legs crossed, her fingers drumming the armrest in a rhythm that betrayed irritation.
Cristine, Rogue, Yennifer, Xenovia, Daniela, Cassandra, Bellatrix—each in their own characteristic posture, but with the same aura of alertness.
Scarlet, Tiamat, and Ouroboros, however, didn’t react with tension, but with the calm of those unthreatened by judgment.
And further back, almost separated from the group, were those who weren’t Strax’s wives: Xyn, Krissia, and Frieren, watching in silence.
Scathach stopped in the center of the room, took a deep breath, and let out an impatient sigh.
“All of you are useless,” she said bluntly, her voice as cold as steel. “Except Scarlet, Tiamat, and Ouroboros.”
A low murmur ran through the group, some shifting their posture, others clenching their fists, but no one yet dared to respond.
“But…” she continued, raising her hand slightly, “that’s not your fault. You’re strong by human standards.”
Strax, who was near the entrance, arched an eyebrow and looked at her, intrigued by the turn of her words.
Scathach turned sideways, allowing the light from the window to highlight the sharp contours of her face.
“And since some of you are no longer human…” she paused, looking directly at Samira, Xenovia, and Cassandra, “that only means you’re useless for other reasons.”
A sharp silence fell over the room. Samira slowly uncrossed her legs, her eyes narrowing. Cristine rested her chin on her hand, a forced smile forming, while Bellatrix leaned forward as if ready to respond. The veins in some of their temples were beginning to throb.
“Hey…” Strax stepped forward, raising a hand. “You don’t have to be so realistic.”
Scathach’s gaze fell on him, but her attention didn’t stray far from the women now staring at the scene with controlled fury.
“They need to hear the truth, Strax.” Her voice didn’t change, but there was more weight to the words. “We’re going to war against the gods. What the hell were you doing until now?”
Samira straightened her posture, as if to answer, but Scathach didn’t give her any space.
“They were trapped in this hole of a world… just training with each other.” She walked slowly to the center of the room, turning slightly to face them all. “Right?”
The silence, this time, wasn’t one of respect—it was one of bitter recognition. Some looked away, others clenched their jaws, but none responded immediately.
Scathach then stopped, turned fully to Strax, and the tone of her voice rose slightly, carrying irritation.
“They’re like this because of your inability to explore new lands!”
Strax blinked in surprise, but kept his expression calm, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly—a sign that the accusation had struck.
“What the hell are you doing on Vorah?” Scathach took a step forward, her index finger pointed at him like a blade. “In a large-scale struggle, we need territory. We need a strong kingdom.”
She paused briefly, as if expecting him to answer—but didn’t give him the chance.
“Individual strength is good…” her tone slowed, but didn’t soften, “but it’s not everything.”
The sentence hung in the air like a blade suspended over the room.
Scarlet, who was sitting with her chin resting on her hand, let out a slow sigh, as if admitting to herself that Scathach was right, but unwilling to say it out loud. Tiamat exchanged a brief glance with Ouroboros, both maintaining a relaxed posture, as if knowing what was coming.
Krissia was the first of the non-wives to speak, her tone calm: “She’s not wrong…” and fell silent, letting the words echo.
Rogue muttered something low, but not enough to be understood. Yennifer, on the other hand, crossed her arms and stared at Scathach as if weighing her every word, deciding whether or not it was worth responding.
Strax took a deep breath, clearly preparing something to say, but the reactions around her showed that, even if she tried to soften the tone, the message had already sunk in like a hot iron.
Scathach turned away, walked to the large living room window, and looked out.
The mansion’s garden was calm, but to her, it was nothing more than a golden prison.
“When the gods come, it won’t matter how many ‘victories’ you’ve had against each other.” Her voice was deeper now, but less cutting. “Real war doesn’t forgive those who only know practice battles.”
She turned back to the group, her eyes fixed on Strax. “And you, my son, should know that better than anyone.”
The weight of the final accusation fell on him like a hammer.
The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Neither of them dared move, but the looks they exchanged were sharp as razors.
Scathach didn’t look away from Strax, as if expecting him to object. But when she realized he remained motionless, she continued with the same cutting firmness as before.
“This mansion…” she said, looking around as if luxury were offensive, “is a waste of space and resources.”
Beatrice frowned, but didn’t open her mouth. Monica gave a short, incredulous laugh, as if she hadn’t heard correctly.
“Sell this shit,” she ordered, her voice echoing through the room like a military command. “Take every coin you can get and buy supplies: weapons, ammunition, grain, fodder, tents, winter coats… everything.”
She paused, her gaze sweeping over every face in the room, stopping for more than a second on Scarlet, Tiamat, and Ouroboros—the only ones who hadn’t looked uncomfortable.
“We’re leaving Vorah.” The tone wasn’t a suggestion; it was a decree. “Forever.”
Cristine took a step forward, her expression confused. “Wait… are you saying we’re abandoning everything? Just like that, overnight?”
“Yes.” The answer came before the question was even fully completed. “And if I had arrived here a month ago, we would have left already.”
Samira leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowed. “And where exactly are we going?”
Scathach didn’t hesitate. “To a territory far from the kingdoms. Unexplored.”
Strax finally took a deep breath and spoke: “Scathach… this house, this territory… they are part of our security. Here we have defenses, allies, escape routes…”
She spun on her heel, the red cape she wore flapping behind her. “Here you have walls that have become bars. And escape routes that only lead to other, equally stagnant places.”
Kali, who had not spoken up until then, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “If we abandon everything, we become vulnerable.”
Scathach smiled slightly—but it wasn’t a comforting smile. “You’re already vulnerable. You just don’t realize it yet.”