The words of a god hold immeasurable power, and an oath from Luger, the God of Light and the Sun, carries a weight few could fathom.
From the moment Luger made his declaration, the magic sword Flagrak fully and irrevocably became Kevin's. Unless Kevin willingly relinquished it under oath, the weapon could not be used by anyone else, even if they managed to kill him.
Moreover, the sword now bore Luger's divine blessing. Anywhere the sun touched, the sword would amplify Kevin's strength in battle. His enemies would feel a supernatural dread, and their injuries would be twice as severe when struck.
"Father…" Kevin's voice trembled as he absorbed the magnitude of what had just occurred. The magic sword floated quietly in his hand, its latent power humming softly. He looked up at Luger, who smiled warmly. "I… I don't even know what to say. Thank you… thank you so much!"
"You'll need it, child," Luger replied gently, his voice steady but tinged with seriousness. "Your future is veiled from me, yet I can sense it will be fraught with trials.
As your father, it is my duty to protect you…" Luger's gaze intensified, and he spoke again—not to Kevin, but to the gods and creatures who might dare plot against his son.
"You are my child, Kevin! You are the Son of Light! My light shines upon you. To those who seek to harm you—beware!"
Kevin froze, stunned as he felt an overwhelming divine energy ripple outward. Though unseen, he knew this declaration reached the farthest corners of Erin, resonating in the hearts of gods, monsters, and men alike.
Luger's expression softened again as he regarded Kevin. "You've earned this, Kevin. Never doubt that."
Kevin blinked, trying to find the right words. All he could manage was a heartfelt, "Thank you."
"Calm yourself, my boy," Luger said with a chuckle, ruffling Kevin's hair. "This is what fathers do. Now, I must go."
"Go? Already?" Kevin's voice betrayed his disappointment.
"I've drawn too much attention," Luger explained, tilting his head slightly toward the distant horizon. "There are those who dislike me meddling in the affairs of mortals… especially here, in the Kingdom of Shadows, where my presence should never reach."
Kevin hesitated, searching for something to say that could make his father linger a moment longer. But before he could speak, Luger knelt and placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder.
"Take care of yourself, Kevin," Luger said softly. "And… keep an eye on your brother, Cu Chulainn. He'll need your guidance."
With that, Luger straightened, gave Scathach a polite nod, and turned away. His form shimmered, dissolving into a beam of radiant light that vanished into the air.
Almost immediately, Scathach drew her magic spear from the void, her body tense. She stepped in front of Kevin, blocking his view as she glared into the distant sky.
"This is my territory," she said, her voice colder than Kevin had ever heard. "Leave. Or I will make you leave."
Kevin couldn't see what she was addressing, but the air felt heavy, charged with a silent threat. After a long, tense pause, Scathach relaxed, lowering her weapon.
"Master?" Kevin asked cautiously.
Scathach turned to him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, it seemed as though she wanted to say something. Finally, she spoke.
"Call me 'Master.'"
"Huh?" Kevin blinked, caught off guard.
"Call me 'Master,'" Scathach repeated, her tone firm but lacking its usual sharpness.
"Uh… Master?" Kevin said hesitantly.
Scathach nodded, apparently satisfied. She grabbed his hand and started leading him back toward the castle.
Her abrupt action left Kevin bewildered. Scathach's grip was firm but not harsh, and her face betrayed no emotion. Still, he sensed something was bothering her.
The disciples in the castle courtyard glanced at the pair but quickly averted their eyes, pretending to be engrossed in their tasks. The unspoken rule in the Shadow Kingdom was simple: don't question Scathach.
As they entered the castle, Scathach abruptly stopped and frowned. Her sharp eyes focused on the magic sword in Kevin's hand.
"Why has it changed?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Kevin glanced at the weapon. The Flagrak had indeed transformed. Its blade was now silver-white, slender and elegant—a stark contrast to the brutal, imposing weapons typical of this era.
"Because I'm its true owner now," Kevin explained, gripping the newly-formed hilt with pride. "I can modify its form as I see fit… Master, would you like to try it?"
Kevin offered the sword, sensing Scathach's interest. Her mood, which had seemed sour, shifted slightly. She accepted the weapon, examining it closely before executing a series of precise, fluid movements.
The disciples who had been quietly observing from the shadows were captivated. Scathach's mastery of the weapon was mesmerizing, each motion blending grace and lethal intent.
"It suits you," Scathach said, returning the sword to Kevin. "This design complements your style better than the original."
Kevin smiled, pleased by her approval. "Thank you, Master. But instead of learning an existing technique, I'd like to create one that truly matches this sword."
Scathach raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"This is the first sword of its kind," Kevin continued, his determination evident. "None of the techniques from this era feel right. I want to develop something new… something that belongs to me."
Scathach studied him for a moment before nodding. "Very well. If that's your decision, I'll support it. But don't expect it to be easy."
Kevin grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
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