Samael looked around. Seeing that the dust had finally settled, he let out a relieved breath. Beside him, Scáthach and Skadi's chests also rose and fell as they caught their breath.
Clearly, after one intense battle after another, followed by the sudden rampage of the Flaming Demon Sword, even the Queen of the Land of Shadows and the Winter God of Jotunheim were beginning to feel the strain.
"How's your hand?"
"It's still a little stiff, but it shouldn't get in the way of our future sparring sessions."
The Ancient Serpent flexed his arm and blinked, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
"You really…"
Scáthach heard the jab in her old friend's words and could not help feeling annoyed. She gave a low, muffled snort.
"I have my immortality to rely on, and I'm not exactly fragile. But you, when did you become so sentimental?"
At some point, Samael had taken hold of the Queen of the Land of Shadows' arm. He looked at the wound left by the demonic flames, worsened by her forcing herself to move until muscle had torn open, and sighed helplessly. Then he took out a potion prepared by the God of Healing, poured it over the injury, and bandaged it with great care.
"You are my opponent. Even if I were to take your life, the one to defeat you should be my spear, not some mere magic sword!"
Scáthach turned her head aside and answered calmly, her tone proud and certain. Yet the corner of her mouth lifted slightly without her noticing.
"So I beat you once in a spar. Is that really worth chasing me over forever?"
Samael's hands paused, and he could not help frowning as he complained.
The Queen of the Land of Shadows' brow twitched. She was just about to speak when the person bandaging her suddenly tightened his grip, making Scáthach's dark brows draw together.
On the smoke-filled battlefield, the two figures standing close together exchanged only a few ordinary words, yet there was an indescribable ease and understanding between them.
And all of it was clearly reflected in the eyes of a certain legitimate wife.
Skadi, who had stopped where she stood, could not help turning dark with anger. Her small fists clenched tight, her knuckles cracking, and the question building in her chest turned into a stiff snort.
"The mighty King of Jotunheim nearly lost to Laevatein's demonic nature… Heh… How humiliating…"
"Enough. Leave the rest to me. I'm sure that battle wasn't easy on you either. You two should head to the Argo first and handle the handover."
Samael turned back, tactfully letting go of Scáthach's hand. Then he winked and smiled at Skadi, who was clearly saying the opposite of what she meant.
"Also, I warmed some mead for you over there. Since you're tired, go have a drink and take the edge off."
The Goddess of Winter froze for a moment, then seemed to understand and nodded. She glanced at Samael as he headed off to inspect the mountain path, then obediently took Scáthach with her and turned to leave.
Now, it was intermission.
The mountain path was riddled with craters large and small, and signs of life had grown sparse. Samael supported himself against broken rock as he walked toward the thick vegetation. His steps grew slower and slower until he finally stopped inside a surviving stretch of dense forest.
Yet in the darkness, a pair of golden eyes gleamed faintly.
Then the Ancient Serpent's knees gave way, and he sank onto the soft, withered grass. Looking toward Thermopylae, where their prey had become trapped in a jar, he let out a relieved breath.
Finally… I held out until now…
The silent murmur slipped from the man's lips, and the tight crease between his brows gradually eased.
Pfft!
But in the next instant, Samael's face turned deathly pale. He spat out a mouthful of reversed blood, a thick and sinister filth like black mud. It splattered onto the rocky ground with a sizzling sound, and every plant around it withered and died.
At the same time, the figure leaning against the boulder lost its support. His body tipped backward and went limp, collapsing toward the ground.
The mountain wind blew, spreading a strange, almost unreal scent of blood through the surroundings.
Rustle…
After a moment of dead silence, faint rustling sounds crept out from the shadows. A savage outline cast across the ground gradually covered Samael, drawing him inch by inch into the darkness.
So sweet. So delicious!
The lowered head moved close to its prey. Its nostrils flared as it took in the lingering scent in the air, its expression filled with intoxication.
Drip…
A thread of clear, glistening liquid fell beside Samael's cheek. Its scorching breath almost pierced through his skin, seeping into his flesh and bones.
The sudden stimulation made the Ancient Serpent open his eyes in a daze. Reflected in his pupils was a golden-furred, white-faced figure tens of meters long, pacing around him in elegant little steps as it sniffed at him.
"You really are careless. Wounded this badly, and you still ended up alone…"
The sharp-chinned fox raised the corner of its mouth in a mocking curve.
"It must have been hard, holding out this long just so the people around you wouldn't worry."
"Cough, cough… Tamamo-no-Mae…"
Samael pressed his left hand to his chest as he coughed, then braced himself with his right, trying to get up.
Thud!
But the chest he had barely lifted was stomped back down by a fox paw.
At the same time, the golden-furred, white-faced fox narrowed its golden eyes and looked down at him, a malicious playfulness appearing between its brows.
"Hah. Taking such risks for some dull little emotion. How foolish. Men should have limits, even when they throw their lives away. Your luck won't let you scrape through danger every single time…"
"What are you trying to do…"
Pinned to the ground beneath the fox's paw, Samael's pupils shrank sharply and his muscles tensed. He had clearly realized something.
"What am I trying to do? Heh. Your life is like a strand of spider silk in this forest. With a single whim from this sovereign, you will return to dust. For a foreign king known for wisdom and virtue, that ending is truly bleak, pitiful, and dull…
"Well, I thought you might become someone impressive. A performance like this isn't even fit to serve as an aperitif. What a waste of this sovereign's expectations."
Tamamo-no-Mae lay down beside Samael and raised a sharp claw, tracing the outline of his cheek. Her fox tails spread out and swayed behind her, and the amusement on her face only deepened.
"You still aren't going to make your move?"
The Ancient Serpent's expression was cold and stiff, his voice low and suppressed.
"Hehehe. This sovereign is only just about to begin enjoying the meal. That look of disbelief on your face is quite interesting. A beast that has lost the strength to support itself, reduced to such a miserable state in its weakness, is worth savoring slowly. Now then, how should I taste that delicious soul of yours? This sovereign has waited so long. I finally seized this chance, and I can hardly hold back anymore…"
The Beast of Calamity, its hunger fully exposed, raised its other fox paw. One sharp spike after another emerged from the pad, while golden flames coiled and rose around it.
"As a final word of advice, remember this well. Foxes are the most untrustworthy creatures of all. So…"
Amid that teasing murmur, the beast claw wreathed in golden flames slammed down with overwhelming force and struck Samael in the chest.
Pfft!
Surging divine power rampaged through his body. Samael's face shifted between blue and white, and he immediately turned his head and vomited red-black blood.
At the same time, the enormous fox shimmered with light and gradually reformed into human shape. Two fair arms reached from behind and supported the gravely wounded Samael, gently patting and rubbing his back.
"Enough playing. Now that you've spat out that stagnant blood, you should feel much better."
That rotten fox was nothing like the sinister, eerie creature from moments ago. A soft smile filled her face as she casually untied a water skin and helped the patient in her arms rinse his mouth, looking every bit like a devoted wife and mother.
As Samael seemed to realize what had happened, his expression darkened.
Clearly, he had been played…
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