"Does it hurt a lot?"
Nessa asked with genuine concern as she gently stroked the reddish mark on Arthur's neck with the tips of her fingers.
Her touch was light and careful, as if she were afraid of hurting him even more.
"Did you get into a fight or something? How did you end up injured in a place like that?"
"Ah, this isn't a wound."
Arthur replied with a calm smile, lightly taking Nessa's hand and guiding her finger to the mark on his neck.
"Morgan said this is the Mark of the Goddess of Death. As long as I receive one mark each week, after six months I'll be able to fully inherit the mark left by the Goddess of Death."
He said it naturally, without showing the slightest suspicion.
"Don't worry, it didn't hurt at all."
Arthur added quickly, apparently worried that Nessa might be concerned for nothing.
"The Mark of the Goddess of Death...?"
Nessa repeated slowly, sinking into thought.
"How strange... why would that woman go through so much trouble just to help you?"
"That's why I keep saying Morgan is a good person."
Arthur smiled sincerely.
"She's never done anything to harm me. Even if there's always some hidden objective behind what she does... at the very least, she's helped me a lot."
Usaha let out a small snort of disdain.
"Even so, I can't forgive her for taking you away without permission... and for still having no intention of letting you come back."
After saying that, she looked at the mark on Arthur's neck again, now with even greater suspicion.
"It's really strange... it looks so ordinary. I can't feel any special aura from it."
"Maybe it takes time before it has any effect."
Arthur guessed, tilting his head.
"It was similar when I took the essence of the White Dragon before. At first, probably nothing happens... then the effects naturally appear over time."
"Is that so...?"
Nessa still looked unconvinced.
"Probably."
Arthur replied, though even his own voice carried some uncertainty.
Instinctively, he turned to Scáthach, seeking confirmation.
That was when he noticed something unusual.
The serene smile that usually rested on the woman's face had almost completely disappeared.
"Arthur... come sit here for a moment."
Scáthach called to him in a low voice.
Arthur was surprised and looked at her.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, Scáthach maintained a straight posture, and her red eyes carried a rare coldness.
Why did she suddenly become so serious?
It was as if she had encountered a mortal enemy.
Even after spending so many years by her side, Arthur had rarely seen her with that expression.
At that moment, she did not seem merely like his master.
She truly seemed like the Queen of the Land of Shadows.
The pressure emanating from her was so intense that the air in the room itself felt heavier.
Scáthach seemed to notice her own lapse in composure.
She slowly closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the overwhelming chill had been withdrawn, replaced by her usual calmness.
Arthur approached silently and sat beside her.
Scáthach then raised her hand and gently caressed the mark on his neck.
"Master...?"
Arthur called out, confused when he noticed she still remained silent.
"Do you know how this mark was made?"
Scáthach asked, without taking her eyes off it.
"She told me to close my eyes at the time... so I couldn't really see."
Arthur replied, and a strange expression appeared on his face.
In truth, he was not entirely free of suspicion.
At that moment, he had felt something moist touch his neck.
It had seemed... very much like lips.
But asking that out loud would be far too embarrassing, especially if he was wrong.
Morgan would certainly mock him mercilessly for being narcissistic.
"Master... do you know?"
Arthur asked.
At the same time, Nessa also turned all her attention to Scáthach, clearly waiting for an answer.
"I believe so."
Scáthach answered calmly.
With her slender fingers, she traced the mark on Arthur's neck, then rubbed her thumb over it as if trying to erase it.
The result was immediate and unmistakably clear.
Nothing changed.
The red mark was still there.
Visible, firm, and prominent even beneath the dim light of the room.
Scáthach stared at it for a long time.
Her face remained beautiful and serene.
But beneath that calmness was something dark.
Even without seeing Morgan at that moment, it was easy to imagine the satisfied smile on the woman's face.
"Master...?"
Arthur called again.
His eyes rose to Scáthach's face and noticed something exceedingly rare.
Anger.
Scáthach emerged from her thoughts and, under Arthur's gaze, suddenly smiled.
How interesting.
So she tried to provoke me like this?
What a pity.
She chose the wrong person.
"Disciple, remember this."
Scáthach said in a calm but firm tone.
"When you are alone in the world, do not trust too easily in what others say."
Even if someone has helped him before, that does not mean everything that person does is solely for his benefit.
Arthur's eyes widened slightly.
"She won't help me?"
"Then... the Mark of the Goddess of Death is a lie?"
Scáthach nodded faintly.
"All of this is nothing more than a trick from that woman."
Her expression remained tranquil as she said it, as if commenting on something utterly mundane.
"The next time she mentions this so-called Goddess's Mark, ignore her."
Scáthach repeated, her voice now icy.
The woman who had always maintained elegance and composure was showing a rare irritation.
Scáthach believed she had considered everything.
Arthur's oath.
The longing he felt for his master and for Nessa.
His deep attachment to the Land of Shadows.
Even while living in Britain, he still yearned to return.
But she had overlooked one detail.
That goddess was far too shameless.
If she could not have the whole fish... then she would at least eat whatever part she could reach.
That was probably how Morgan thought.
Perhaps, in the future, that woman might truly find a way to take Arthur for herself.
...And if things reached that point, there would be nothing amusing about it.
She was probably watching all of this from somewhere in hiding at this very moment.
"Remember what I just told you."
Scáthach said again.
This time, her tone was clearly a warning.
"Did you hear me?"
Her words sounded more like an order than simple advice.
"I understand."
Arthur nodded without hesitation.
"The Mark of the Goddess of Death is fake."
Even without understanding why Morgan would do something so strange, he was absolutely certain of one thing:
Listening to his master was always the correct choice.
Nessa, on the other hand, looked completely lost.
She alternated her gaze between Scáthach and Arthur, then stared once more at the red mark on his neck.
She observed it for quite a while, but still could not understand what had happened or why her mother had suddenly become angry.
"Ah, forget it!"
Nessa shook her head quickly, as if giving up on trying to understand.
Then she grabbed Arthur's arm tightly.
"I have so much to tell you! Let's talk a lot before it's time for you to leave!"
Arthur instinctively glanced at Scáthach.
She nodded faintly and rose to her feet, silently leaving the room.
During this time...
I'll take a look around.
I want to see if that woman suddenly appears just to provoke me.
And if possible...
Even if it is only within a dream...
I'll teach her a lesson.
---
(End of Chapter)