Honestly, the look on Cú Chulainn's face was priceless—an instant shift from cocky confidence to a mix of shock and indignation. His youth and impulsive nature made such reactions entertaining, even if he carried the fierce pride of Scáthach's apprentice and the weight of the Red Branch's legacy. This was all part of his growth journey, after all.
"Your next line will be, 'How dare you mock me!'" I teased a hint of challenge in my voice.
"You… How dare you mock me?" His eyes flared crimson, his face twisting with rage. "You scoundrel! I am a proud member of the Red Branch, the Hound of Ulster, the Son of Light, Cú Chulainn!"
No one could deny Cú Chulainn's reputation as a force of raw power—a legend forged in battle, fierce enough to freeze even the bravest warriors with his gaze. Yet this hotheaded, fiery youth had a long way to go before becoming the composed hero destined for the Holy Grail War. For now, his reckless temper made him easy to rile up—a temptation I couldn't resist.
It wasn't malice that drove me to push his buttons; it was curiosity—a test for myself against this hero-in-the-making. And, admittedly, a dash of revenge.
Seeing his focus waver as he glanced toward Scáthach, I sheathed my weapon with a taunting smile. "What's wrong? Backing out already?"
"Hmph! So, you seek a fight?" He declared chest puffed out. "Very well. I accept in the name of the Knight of the Red Branch, Cú Chulainn!"
I smirked, "I, Kara Zor-El, once known as Illyasviel von Einzbern—a Magus, a sorceress, and, to some, a witch!"
"Magus? Hmph!" he scoffed.
The disdain flickered in his eyes, clear as day. I understood—during his era, the warriors commanded respect. Archers and magic users were seen as lesser, almost unworthy of a real warrior's acknowledgment. This was especially true in Celtic culture, where chivalry and knightly honor were the highest ideals.
Beside us, Scáthach observed with a small, knowing smile. She understood the disparity between present Magecraft and what Cú Chulainn knew as Magecraft in his time. It would save her some effort if I could give him even a glimpse into that difference. As they say, a teacher guides, but improvement demands action. And growth? That came with training.
With Scáthach's slight nod of approval, Cú Chulainn's face lit up, almost like a kid daring someone to play with him. His anticipation made me chuckle, a small smile tugging at my lips. He was raring to go, straddling that line between eager challenge and a not-yet-hero's hesitation.
"Alright, then!"
With Scáthach's permission, I could see Cú Chulainn's eagerness practically bubbling over. He tossed aside the sea beast's spine he'd been wielding and swung his iron spear with practiced ease. I had to admit, his recent training against that monster had sharpened his skills—his whole stance screamed determination. His battle cry rang out as he closed the gap between us.
The spear's gleam cut through the air like a dragon's tail, swift and precise.
[Martha's Pose Fake]
Since I hadn't had a chance to examine Martha's soul or Saint Graph directly, I couldn't establish the same connection with her as I'd managed with Okita. So, for now, all I could do was mimic her stance. As Cú Chulainn's spear closed in, the blade barely half a meter from my face, I nimbly leaped back, feeling the rush of wind from the spear's tip.
My retreat only seemed to spur him on, launching him into a new, fiercer charge.
[Jacob's Limbs Fake]
In that instant, I disappeared as I used the 'Reduced Earth' technique. It didn't even require me to go into 'Soul Synchronization.' I reappeared directly behind him, fists ready and gloved, the cold wind stinging as my fists transformed into a storm of shadows that rained down upon his back.
The entire sequence took only a few heartbeats, but for Cú Chulainn, I'm sure it felt like every bone in his body had shattered. Pain pulsed through his frame, and I could see the struggle in his eyes as I pressed him down, my foot planted firmly between his shoulder blades, unyielding as a mountain.
'Reduced Earth' was perfect for this kind of one-on-one fight, especially against someone who hadn't yet honed the reflexes or intuition to keep up. For anyone else without Scáthach's training, they'd just have to brace themselves to take hit after hit. Cú Chulainn was still fresh here in the Land of Shadows, and he hadn't reaped the full benefits of her brutal tutelage yet.
A thrill coursed through me as I realized that my practice with Okita was paying off. I couldn't help but smile wide, relishing the thrill of finally putting my moves into action. I declared with a grin, "Oh, today I'm all in, Cú Chulainn! I hope your skills can match your temperament!"
I clenched my fists, feeling every part of the moment. Truthfully, there was nothing quite like the sensation of bare-handed combat.
"Let me go!" Cú Chulainn bellowed, his eyes blazing with indignation. I couldn't help but press down harder with my right leg, the short boot squeezing into his back with deliberate pressure. Tilting my head slightly, I let a triumphant smile spread across my face.
"I guess I won!" I taunted, savoring the moment.
"Whoever said revenge wasn't sweet had it all wrong." I mused internally.
"Admit defeat, Cú Chulainn," Scáthach's voice cut through the scene with unyielding finality. "It's clear you're no match for Kara. You should feel no shame in losing to her. She's faced countless heroes from all kinds of eras—a warrior molded through countless battles. Besides," she added with a faint smirk, "a loser should have the grace of a loser. Since you lost, you lack the right to complain unless you can prove your strength against her. Though...it seems you rather enjoyed it, didn't you?"
Underneath my foot, Cú Chulainn let out a begrudging moan. "I didn't enjoy it!"
Scáthach raised an eyebrow at me, her gaze intense. "This ability to mimic others through 'Soul Synchronization' is fascinating... Let's see a demonstration. I'd like to gauge just how proficient you are with this secret technique."
Her tone had shifted into that of a teacher, her own curiosity tinged with an unmistakable desire for combat. But as her eyes, now gleaming with battle intent, locked onto me, I adopted a poised demeanor. I gracefully stepped off Cú Chulainn's back, giving him a reprieve.
Scáthach let out a slight sigh, and with a mere gesture, a host of crimson magic spears materialized behind her. My confident expression wavered just a bit as I glanced at the array of deadly projectiles.
"Not, looking good, but I came here for this," I mused, "Facing her in her prime without the limitation imposed by the grail system, is a recipe for disaster though, but I like it!"
"Heh... Ow!!"
Having firsthand experience with Scáthach's ruthless training, Cú Chulainn understood exactly what lay ahead. He could no longer contain himself and his amusement finally spilled out as he burst into laughter—only to find it abruptly cut short by my swift kick to his side, sending him sprawling, unconscious.
"I'm still adjusting to my new body, Teach, so maybe go easy on me?" I called, backing away, while arming myself with Dragon Cutter, a sleek 110-centimeter-long, completely black katana, that materialized in my hand, a better weapon for this confrontation.
[Soul Synchronization: Okita Sōji]
A surge of magical energy exploded from me, filling the air with a blazing light as a powerful whirlwind erupted like a tornado. In this form, I became Okita Sōji, my entire presence shifting. Even Scáthach's expression changed as she realized the transformation before her.
Swish!
I vanished into the crimson storm, reappearing at her side in an instant, my blade glinting with a chilling intent as I aimed straight for her exposed side. But Scáthach moved like a ghost, her spear spinning to deflect the strike in a dazzling array of sparks that filled the air with raw energy.
Without a word, I leaped back, adjusting to the distance to keep her in my sights. But she stayed on me, moving with the ease of someone who defied physics. As time seemed to slow, her spear arced close enough to my head to catch a silver strand of my hair.
"Too slow," Scáthach remarked, her voice edged with a playful grin as she pushed me, demanding more.
As I kept retreating, strategizing my next move, I called upon my magic, "Nature's Myriad Forms—Speed Forth, Furious Winds!" A whirlwind surged around me, merging with my movements and adding a burst of speed that I desperately needed. The air felt charged, each gust empowering my every step.
But Scáthach, unfazed, merely smirked. "Interesting Magecraft, but still too slow!"
Before I could react, her wrist twisted, and her spear swung toward me, aiming precisely for my neck. I barely managed to deflect her strike, but the clash created a shockwave as my wind-infused energy collided with the sheer power of her spear. My mithril bodysuit absorbed much of the impact, its energy conductivity dispersing the blow, yet I felt a burning pain as the tip grazed my skin. A snap echoed in my head as a bone in my shoulder protested, and a wave of dizziness hit me. I stifled a groan, trying not to let it show.
But Scáthach didn't relent. In a mere breath, she unleashed three more attacks, each one aimed at my most vulnerable points—my forehead, neck, and heart.
"Style: Tornado Flash!" Her voice reverberated like thunder, each thrust designed to end the fight with one decisive blow. My bodysuit absorbed part of the attack, but it felt as if I was struggling against a force of nature. My wind magic wove around me like a protective veil, helping me halt her spear just enough to create an opening. Taking my chance, I twisted, evading her assault by a narrow margin, then raised Dragon Cutter high and swung down, pouring the full force of the wind into each slashing motion. I spun, letting the wind propel my strikes, each one sharper and faster than the last.
A deafening blast echoed around us, and the air warped from the force of my counterattack, creating a vacuum wave that rushed outward. The silver-bladed gusts, my conjured wind slicing through the air, honed in on Scáthach with ruthless precision, leaving her seemingly no space to evade.
But she didn't back down. Scáthach's eyes glinted with a fierce thrill as she maintained her stance. With a relentless, straightforward thrust, she plunged her spear into my assault, the tip of Dragon Cutter vibrating with a high-frequency hum that pierced the air, making my ears ring. The sheer force of her strike cut through my wind attacks like they were mere mist, and I braced myself as her spear surged forward, relentless as ever.
At blinding speeds, I felt my Dragon Cutter collide with Scáthach's spear hundreds of times in a heartbeat, each strike thundering like cannon fire as the earth beneath us splintered and cratered under the relentless force. I knew I wasn't using the full extent of my powers or Noble Phantasms, but it didn't take much to realize—I was clearly at a disadvantage. This was a test of my abilities in my new body, not a death match.
Every instinct in me sharpened, and I quickly projected a second sword to block her spear from a surprising angle.
Boom!
The newly summoned blade exploded with the clash, sending shockwaves through the air and splattering blood across my mithril bodysuit. Pain ripped through my right hand; I could feel the bones shattering from the sheer impact, yet I held firm. Scáthach's spear stopped just shy of my forehead, and she studied me, her gaze an unreadable mix of respect and intrigue. Slowly, she reached up, wiping the blood from her cheek, revealing a shallow cut beneath.
A true smile appeared on her face, a rare hint of acknowledgment. "Very well," she said, her voice both admiring and challenging. "It's been a while since someone managed to touch me."
Even as my pulse raced and exhaustion weighed me down, I held my resolve steady. "It doesn't change the outcome," I murmured, knowing I'd been uterly defeated.
Apologies, Okita, I thought with a twinge of guilt. I didn't mean to mar your technique.
Suddenly, Scáthach's spear struck the back of my head with surgical precision, sending shockwaves through my body. A numbing dizziness flooded my senses, my vision swimming. I fought to remain conscious, but the world began to darken, slipping away beyond my control. Her voice reached me, distant and faint, yet resonant with a promise.
"This frenetic combat stance doesn't suit your youth. Let's start your instruction... with runes."
And then, everything faded to black.