Only half of the castle remained now, a ruin filled with craters, bloodstains, and scattered debris. Cú Chulainn stood there, gripping his spear, breathing heavily. Despite his battered appearance, a wild, arrogant gleam shone in his eyes. The fierce fighting spirit and surge of boiling blood within him fueled a relentless desire to defeat Aife. She was a powerhouse capable of standing toe-to-toe with Scáthach without losing, and Cú Chulainn couldn't have imagined reaching a level where he could fight Aife like this—until now, in his current state.
"I really need to thank Kara properly for this. She's the reason I've grown this strong."
Cú Chulainn let out a hearty laugh, only to cough up mouthfuls of blood. The fit of laughter pulled him back slightly from his crazed state, but he couldn't deny it—he was in bad shape. Aife's unmatched skill had shattered his bones and left his organs heavily damaged. If it weren't for his Son of Light vitality, he would've likely been dead by now.
His body was covered in scars, reminders of his earlier, reckless attacks. Yet none of them were fatal blows. Aife, with a sly smile, wiped blood from the corner of her mouth and mockingly said, "I suppose Hades has already taken care of that child, hasn't he? Well, I'll put this nasty dog down first, then it's your turn, sister."
"Hades? The Lord of the Underworld?" Cú Chulainn's face tensed. He had been counting on Kara for backup. But if she had faced Hades himself… perhaps she was already gone.
"Teacher, we might be in some real trouble here."
It seemed almost like a punishment for a mere human to intrude upon the realm of gods, and Scáthach had lived her whole life cursed. Recently, Aife—the one who understood her best—had placed another curse upon her. Now, Scáthach's immortality was slipping, and her strength was fading. Even with Cú Chulainn transformed into a Berserker at her side, the situation hadn't improved; Aife had managed to push him to the very edge of death.
This was the perfect moment to end Scáthach's life, but Aife wouldn't kill her so easily. Scáthach was her only sister—the one she'd pierced through the heart herself, banishing her from their homeland.
"Teacher, I don't think we're going to make it…"
Cú Chulainn knew Kara had likely faced a god and was almost certainly dead by now. To imagine she could have survived against someone like Hades seemed impossible. Kara's strength didn't come close to Lugh's, and he doubted she could prevail against the might of the god of the underworld. He couldn't think of any way out of this.
Still, with his spear's support, he managed to stay upright beside Scáthach, facing the deadly aura coming from Aife. He was battered and barely holding on, but he refused to fall.
"Cú Chulainn, stand down. She's here to kill me."
Scáthach's expression wavered, and her slender frame trembled. Her lips pressed into a firm line, and a flicker of deep, unbearable pain crossed her eyes. She didn't know if Kara was still alive after her confrontation with Hades, but she knew that if Cú Chulainn pushed himself any further, he'd die. Yet cursed as she was, Scáthach could only watch as he stubbornly remained in front of her.
"Teacher, I beg you—save your words. Right now, I'm not listening!"
Though his breath was weak, something dark and fierce within him reignited. It wasn't the magic spear's energy, but a deeply buried madness in Cú Chulainn's soul. His irises darkened with an almost bloody intensity as scarlet runes slowly appeared across his body.
"How much longer do you think you'll last?"
With that, the glowing red spear swung down, tracing a bright arc through the air. Cú Chulainn, exhausted and nearly numb to pain, could hardly register it. He glanced at his hand clutching the spear shaft, lifting it even as his shoulder throbbed. Nearly every bone in his body was fractured, and he was only standing because of the spear's support. His ability to fight had reached its limit, and even his reflexes had dulled. Cú Chulainn knew he was at the brink of collapse.
"Hahaha! I get it now—I finally understand what you truly wish for, Teacher. It's death, isn't it? It makes perfect sense!"
Cú Chulainn's thoughts were clouding as he spoke, but a realization struck him. He glanced at Scáthach and laughed, saying, "Though you saw the potential to end your life in both Kara and me, remember, we only have these skills because you taught us. No one knows you better. But you're just looking for a reason to end your life, aren't you? In truth, the only one who can take you down—the one you want to—is her." He meant Aife.
Hearing this, both Scáthach and Aife, who had been about to finish Cú Chulainn off, froze. Aife looked at Scáthach, her face tense and her eyes stormy with emotion.
"As a warrior, you can't choose suicide. You need to fall in battle—a true warrior's death. That's why you trained Kara and me to be the ones capable of taking your life. It's all because of the guilt you carry. What a tragic wish, Teacher. It's no wonder I've never seen you smile. Ever since you killed your only sister, you've been a shadowy queen ruling over a kingdom of darkness—not Scáthach."
Cú Chulainn's voice was tinged with sorrow as he added, "The real Scáthach is still trapped in that moment, unable to escape the memory of ending her sister's life..."
"Enough, Cú Chulainn!" Scáthach's voice was sharp as she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Though her face was partly hidden by her purple bangs, her tone wavered, hinting at the pain his words had stirred.
Cú Chulainn was genuinely surprised; he hadn't expected his words to affect her so deeply.
"My poor teacher, you've carried that past with you for so long that every painful memory is ingrained. You can't face what you did with that magical spear—and it haunts you every night in your dreams. That's why Aife's curse is affecting you so strongly now!"
At this, Aife's expression shifted. Cú Chulainn's words and Scáthach's reaction struck a nerve, stirring something within her. The old resentment, the sense of rivalry, and a buried desire for vengeance bubbled to the surface. Or maybe she yearned for something deeper, something her sister had once denied her.
"You—"
"Enough! You talk too much!"
Before Cú Chulainn could continue, Aife's face hardened. She thrust her magical spear into his heart, piercing it. Then, with a swift strike, she grazed his forehead, blood flowing as the air itself seemed to split with her movement. Cú Chulainn could only watch in helpless terror, knowing he couldn't dodge the next blow. His fate felt sealed.
But just as the spear was about to strike his forehead, a slender blade intercepted it. Sparks flew as metal clashed, illuminating Aife's face, full of shock. Cú Chulainn, seeing the unexpected intervention, breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that if the arrival had been even a second slower, he would have been dead. As the tension left him, he collapsed backward.
"You... How can you still be alive, Hades?" Aife asked, stunned.
"It's just Hades—just an insignificant god. Even Poseidon, who tried his luck, met the same end. Anything that breathes, god or not, will fall by my hand if it means proving my point!"
I arrived just in time, mere moments before Aife's spear would have pierced Cú Chulainn's head. Flying at an unprecedented speed, I coordinated with Cú Chulainn, giving him directions to provoke and delay Aife, all while discreetly activating the runes I had earlier inscribed on his body. I had pushed herself to her limits—knowing Cú Chulainn's impulsive nature, he would have lost his head by now without her intervention.
Using Scáthach's Thousand-Mile Eye technique, I had been assessing the situation from afar. Yet, I wasn't Scáthach, so my mastery of the technique left me with a slightly distorted perception. I deftly parried Aife's spear, moving to her opposite flank. "Teach, you cleared out every guard in this castle to give her a chance to end your life. But ask yourself—do you really want to die?"
Aife, taken aback, her eyes widened in disbelief as demanded with a stutter, "W-where is Hades?" Her grip tightened on her spear, "And what do you mean about Poseidon?"
Though Kara's words had unsettled her, Aife tried to calm herself, struggling to accept that Kara could have actually killed Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, and Poseidon, Lord of the Oceans—especially since Poseidon hadn't even joined the invasion. When she and Scáthach had joined forces long ago, they couldn't defeat Hades. But the undeniable fact was that Kara was back. Perhaps she had found a way to drive Hades back to the underworld, or maybe she'd struck some bargain with him.
The gods, as Aife well knew, were unpredictable—able to shift between rage and mirth on a whim. And in a way, having stepped into their realm, she was one herself.
I could see the gears turning in her mind, her delicate face etched with doubt. How could I, a mere mortal, have defeated not just Hades, but also Poseidon?
"I buried them in the Land of Shadows," I stated flatly, still watching her intently, hoping she'd give me a reason to put her in her place. After all, she was my teacher's sister, and her face was a near-mirror image of Scáthach's, but I wasn't about to let her actions slide.
"My title as Nemesis might actually hold some merit," I mused.
In Celtic myth, it was said that Aife had been defeated by Cú Chulainn and even returned as his wife, bearing him a son. But considering she'd just come close to killing Cú Chulainn now, the idea of him subduing her—let alone marrying her—seemed absurd.
"Did my presence here alter the future? If so..." However my thoughts were cut off before they went on a tangent again by Scáthach's voice.
"Has my presence here altered the future? If so..." My thoughts were interrupted before spiraling further, grounded by Scáthach's voice.
"Kara?"
"I'm fine, Teach. You need to trust your apprentice."
With a calm yet steely focus, I summoned a massive Bounded Field, creating a distinct line between me, Cú Chulainn, and Scáthach. What I was about to do wasn't something my teacher needed to witness—disciplining her sister on her behalf. And if things escalated...could Teach even stand a chance against me now?
Still sensing that my precautions might not be enough, I layered two additional defensive spells over the Bounded Field and added a soundproof barrier for good measure.
A faint thrill coursed through me as I raised my blade, pointing it directly at Aife. "I have no desire to see a repeat of what happened between you and my teacher. Frankly, your sister's prowess in battle is unmatched. So… how is it that she's ended up like this?" I pointed a finger at the disheveled and heavily wounded figure of Scáthach.
"But then, why am I even asking? You probably can't grasp the weight of guilt my teacher bears toward you."
"What are you implying?" Aife's gaze remained fixed, her crimson pupils glinting with cold rage and deadly intent.
"I'll start by teaching you a lesson through force. Then we'll have our talk."
"Oh? You think you can beat me?" Aife's grip tightened around her spear, sliding down its length as she spun it. The scarlet weapon flared with dark energy, conjuring shadowy apparitions of her past kills that loomed behind her, their anguished cries piercing the air. Her lips curled into a scornful grin. "Surviving Hades must have made you forget the gap between us. I'll admit, you have talent. If you were my student, I'd even feel pride—but too much confidence? That's just arrogance!"
I responded with a smirk. "You're right. I lack your depth in combat experience and martial prowess. In that, you're my superior."
My expression twisted into a dark grin. "But you still don't understand what real power is."
With a slash that tore through the sound barrier, I launched forward at blinding speed. The air compressed around me, forming a visible mist in the wake of my swing as I cleaved through her spear's defenses with ease. In a split-second, my blade struck true, piercing through her right hand—the one clenched around her magic spear.
"Broken Phantasm!"
The projected Noble Phantasm detonated in a powerful explosion, its booming force fracturing the ground further. I had tempered its magical output to prevent complete devastation, allowing me to unleash it at close range; Broken Phantasm spared neither ally nor foe.
Since absorbing the powers of Hades and Poseidon, my body has undergone a profound transformation. Skin, flesh, and bone alike now possessed a hardness akin to steel. I felt confident that this new form could withstand the force of an ordinary Noble Phantasm. Vitality surged within me like a god's essence, an unending reservoir of magical energy that propelled me to a higher realm of existence.
"Iron Fist! Judgment!"