Chapter 560: He’s just mine…
Scathach reappeared where she had left Scarlet, Ouroboros, Tiamat, and Strax, the rift in the air closing behind her with an almost imperceptible whisper. In her hands, she carried Hermes’ two feet, still attached to the divine boots, now torn from the messenger with brutal violence. Without ceremony, she threw them onto the stone floor with a sharp thud, the impact echoing through the silent ruins.
The boots, sacred symbols of the god’s power, lay there like macabre trophies—relics of a battle no one dared forget. The golden glow that had once enveloped Hermes now seemed tarnished, a wounded and dimmed light, silent witness to Scathach’s ancient fury.
She took a few steps back, her gaze sweeping over the small group in front of her. Scathach’s eyes found Strax, the young warrior, who slept peacefully in Ouroboros’ lap. The ancient dragon maintained a protective posture, its scales glistening softly in the dim light, while its rhythmic breathing lulled the boy to sleep.
Scathach let out a weary sigh, almost laden with melancholy—a rare moment for someone so hardened by war and vengeance. With a fluid gesture, she made her spear disappear, the air where it had been closing with a fleeting glow, leaving her hands free but restless.
Her eyes then fixed on Scarlet. For a moment, time seemed to slow down, and the two women simply stared at each other, the tension between them hanging like an invisible thread in the air. The silence between them spoke louder than words could — a complex mixture of recognition, pride, doubt, and, above all, an unbreakable bond.
Then, as if the distance had been a nightmare interrupted, Scathach rushed toward her teacher, her hardened face softening into an almost human gesture. Without hesitation, she wrapped her in a firm embrace, the warrior’s strength finally surrendering to the comfort of an ancestral bond.
Scarlet stood still for a moment, surprised by the sudden display of affection. Her words were slow, laden with a maternal authority that came from centuries of shared teachings and battles. “Useless disciple,” she said, not as an insult, but as an affectionate acknowledgment of the difficult journey Scathach had ahead of her.
Scathach replied in a hoarse voice, filled with a determination that only someone who had seen death up close could carry: “I’m back, Master.”
The embrace between them tightened for a moment longer, as if it were a silent acknowledgment of what had been lost and what still needed to be achieved. The group around them watched in respectful silence, knowing that there, at that moment, something fundamental had changed.
Ouroboros, still holding Strax, let out an almost imperceptible murmur, the dragon’s deep breathing mingling with the silence of the night falling over the place. Tiamat, standing nearby, watched the scene with calculating eyes, a mixture of curiosity and caution in her imposing posture.
Scarlet stepped back slightly, her eyes still fixed on her returning disciple. “Olympus must be in chaos.” Her voice was grave, laden with harsh wisdom. “You’ve caused trouble again, useless disciple.”
Scathach lifted her chin, her gaze once again burning with the flame of battle and vengeance, and smiled. “I don’t care,” she said. “I said, only my son matters now.” She turned to Strax.
“Let’s take him. His body will take time to recover,” Scathach said, smiling. Scarlet placed her hand on her shoulder and commented, “You’ve become more bossy.”
Scarlet stared at Scathach with a glint of irony in her eyes, an almost invisible smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You know, maybe it’s no longer appropriate to call me Master.”
Scathach frowned, her eyes, which already had a demonic gleam, narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”
Scarlet’s voice grew lower, almost a whisper laden with a strange mixture of humor and sincerity. “While you were… dead, I married Strax.”
The world seemed to freeze. Scathach’s gaze, which had been full of fire and determination, faltered for a moment. The words hung in the air like thunder that had not yet struck.
“You’re joking,” was the first sound to come from Scathach’s lips, but her voice was tense, laden with disbelief.
Scarlet raised her hand in surrender, with an amused smile that mixed light teasing and undeniable truth. “It’s your fault for having such a good son. I’m just reaping the rewards of being his teacher, don’t blame me.”
Scathach stood motionless for a moment, as if processing the revelation, a whirlwind of emotions crossing her face. It was as if the ground had opened up beneath her feet—the impact of news that shook the very foundation of everything she knew.
Finally, she spoke, her voice hoarse and filled with a mixture of defiance and surprise. “So you… took what was mine. My son.”
Scarlet raised her eyebrows, still smiling calmly. “I didn’t take anything. We joined forces. In times of death and chaos, alliances grow stronger in ways you can’t imagine. And Strax… he needed a family, someone who wouldn’t treat him like a weapon.”
Scathach looked at Strax, still asleep in Ouroboros, and something soft, almost vulnerable, shone in her fierce eyes. It was the certainty that what mattered most was there, but also the uneasiness of realizing that the world around her was no longer the same as she had left it.
“So, if you’re his wife…” she began, her voice low and suspicious, “what does that mean for us?”
Scarlet took a step forward, her piercing gaze fixed on the disciple who now faced a new chapter in her life. “It means that your return has changed everything. That the past is buried, and the future is being rewritten. That I am not just your Master, and you are not just my disciple.”
A deep silence settled between them, laden with possibilities and unspoken promises. Scathach felt, for the first time in a long time, that perhaps she was not alone—but that this new connection would require something of her that she did not yet know she was ready to give.
She took a deep breath, lowering her eyes for a moment, before looking at her again with the same strength that had always defined her. “Then let’s go forward. Like never before.”
Scarlet smiled, a gleam of pride and complicity lighting up her face. “That’s the spirit.”
On the outside, Scathach seemed fine… but on the inside…
“I’m going to kill her… yes… that’s right… no one touches my son… no, only mine… my son… I’m going to kill her while she’s alone… yes, she can’t take what’s mine…” Scathach’s insides burned with pure madness that said only one thing…
No one touches what’s mine.