Chapter 1014: A Walk with Scathach (Part.II)

Strax shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking. Their destination emerged naturally when they passed through a small commercial square and Scathach slowed in front of a new café. It was not exactly elegant; there were outdoor tables, a display case full of sweets, and a board advertising imported coffee from a hot southern region. Strax noticed her gaze.

"Want to stop?"

Scathach pretended to think.

"If you insist."

"I didn’t insist."

"Then insist."

Strax looked at her.

She smiled.

"Let’s have coffee, Mom."

"Since you want it so much."

Strax muttered something impolite as they entered.

They chose a table outside near a small fountain. Scathach ordered strong coffee and some dessert made with honey and fruit, while Strax settled for a cold drink and stuffed bread. For several minutes, they talked about completely useless things. She complained that some of the mansion employees were hiding cleaning supplies from her because apparently Scathach had developed a habit of "helping." Strax said that was probably because she had once used Dragon Fire to dry a freshly washed corridor and melted half the floor wax.

"It dried quickly."

"You ruined the finish."

"Details."

"Monica almost killed three people trying to figure out who did it."

Scathach drank her coffee.

"That’s why I didn’t tell her."

Strax let out a short laugh.

The conversation flowed far too easily, and that began making him slightly uncomfortable precisely because it reminded him of the original reason for the outing. He had planned to please her before asking for help, but sitting there listening to Scathach complain that one of the cooks refused to let her prepare lunch after some incident involving frozen meat and draconic magic, he realized he was enjoying this more than he had expected.

Maybe she had been right.

He really did spend too little time with her.

Not because of any conscious rejection. There was simply always something else. Another war, another woman, another territory, another ancient creature wanting to destroy something. Because Scathach was one of the strongest people around him, she naturally ended up among those Strax felt the least need to check on.

The problem was that not needing to protect someone did not mean that person did not need attention.

Scathach noticed him watching her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You’re looking at me strangely."

"I was thinking."

"That explains it."

Strax narrowed his eyes.

She kept eating calmly.

"You’re very insolent today."

"I’m happy."

The answer came too simply.

Strax went quiet.

Scathach also seemed to realize she had said more than she intended, because she looked toward the square and took another sip of coffee.

Strax decided not to press.

After they finished, he paid and the two returned to walking. This time they headed toward a busier part of the market, where artisans sold everything from simple weapons to enchanted objects. Scathach occasionally stopped to examine something, but rarely bought anything. Strax eventually noticed she seemed far more interested in small ordinary objects than expensive artifacts.

She stopped longest at an accessory stall.

There were earrings, bracelets, necklaces, and small ornaments made from simple metals.

Nothing magical.

Scathach picked up a small silver hair clip decorated with a flower.

"Pretty," she commented.

Strax looked at it.

"It’s cheap."

She slowly turned her head.

"I said pretty."

"I know."

"Then why did you mention the price?"

"Because I’m used to everyone wanting something absurd."

Scathach placed the clip back on the stall.

"I don’t need anything absurd."

Strax picked it up.

"You’re taking it."

"No."

"You liked it."

"I don’t need it."

"That wasn’t the question."

Scathach stared at him.

Strax handed a few coins to the vendor before she could continue and placed the small package in her hands.

"There."

She looked at the package.

Then at him.

"Are you trying to buy me?"

Strax stopped.

Shit.

She saw it immediately.

The smile that appeared was slow.

"I knew it."

"You know nothing."

"You want something."

"I can give my mother a gift."

"You can."

Scathach put the package away.

"And today you decided to do exactly that when you came looking for me for the first time in several days, invited me out, paid for coffee, and now bought me a gift."

Strax remained silent.

Scathach started laughing.

"You’re terrible at this."

"I was just being nice."

"Of course."

She slipped one arm through his and kept walking as though she had won some invisible contest.

Strax let her.

"Aren’t you going to ask?"

"Not yet."

"Why?"

"Because you haven’t finished pleasing me."

He slowly turned his face.

Scathach was smiling.

"You’re taking advantage of me."

"I’m your mother."

"I don’t see the connection."

"I do."

She pulled him into another street.

Strax ended up laughing.

They spent almost two hours simply walking. Scathach insisted on visiting a small shop that sold children’s clothes because she wanted to buy something for Vex, even though the girl was not even in Asgard at the time. Then she dragged Strax to a confectionery because she found sweets she wanted to bring back for some of the women at the mansion. At some point, Strax realized that the outing he had originally created as preparation for asking for help had simply become a real outing.

And that was fine.

When they left the commercial district, they walked toward a quieter area of Asgard near a small park built around old trees that had been preserved during the city’s expansion. There were benches, stone paths, and an artificial lake where a few children were feeding fish.

Scathach sat down.

Strax remained standing for a few seconds before taking the place beside her.

She opened the small package he had bought and took out the hair clip.

"Put it on."

Strax looked at her.

"What?"

"In my hair."

"Can’t you do it?"

"I can."

"Then why—"

"Strax."

He sighed.

"Fine."

Scathach partially turned her back to him and pulled part of her hair aside. Strax held the clip as though it were some mysterious artifact and spent several seconds trying to understand how it worked.

"You killed a Monarch, but you don’t know how to use a hair clip?"

"Monarchs have simpler instructions."

"It literally opens and closes."

"Be quiet."

After two attempts, he managed to fasten a small section of her hair behind one ear.

Scathach touched the object.

"Is it crooked?"

"Probably."

"Good."

"Good?"

"You put it on."

Strax went silent.

She turned back toward the lake.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Scathach was the one who finally broke the silence.

"Now you can ask."

Strax slowly exhaled.

"You really notice everything."

"You got that from me."

"Unfortunately."

She lightly hit his arm.

Strax leaned back against the bench and looked at his own hands. Now that the moment had arrived, he realized he needed to organize the question better.

"I want to get stronger."

Scathach did not laugh.

Did not make a joke.

Her expression changed immediately.

"How much stronger?"

"More than simply accumulating energy."

That caught her attention.

Strax continued:

"My body is already strong. My reserves have grown. I have White Fire, Black Ice, demonic energy, part of Hades’s authority, and now that gauntlet. But I feel like I’m collecting things instead of actually turning everything into one thing."

Scathach became completely serious.

"Finally noticed."

Strax looked at her from the side.

"You could have told me."

"You wouldn’t have listened."

He could not deny that.

She crossed one leg over the other.

"And where do the runes come in?"

Strax smiled faintly.

"Knew you’d notice."

"You’ve seen me use some."

"More than once."

Scathach slowly nodded.

"Draconic runes are not spells in the way humans understand them. They are also not merely symbols of power. They are... a language of identity."

Strax remained quiet.

Now she had his complete attention.

"A very young Dragon uses mana like any powerful creature. An experienced Dragon begins turning it into authority. But the ancients realized there was an intermediate stage: writing your own nature onto yourself."

Strax frowned.

"Writing literally?"

"Sometimes."

Scathach raised one hand.

A small golden rune appeared on her skin.

Not floating.

On the skin.

The symbol looked like part of her.

Strax immediately felt the difference.

It was not gathered mana forming a word.

It was something much deeper.

"Does that rune mean strength?" he asked.

Scathach smiled.

"No."

"Then what?"

"Me."

Strax went silent.

She closed her hand and the symbol disappeared.

"True draconic runes do not say ’fire,’ ’ice,’ ’strength,’ or ’speed.’ They record concepts you have embodied so deeply that they stop being techniques and become parts of your existence."

Strax felt something inside his chest react.

That was dangerously close to the answer he had been searching for since Tartarus.

Divinity.

Concept.

Authority.

Scathach watched his face and saw the connection.

"So," she said, "if you truly want to get stronger..."

Strax looked back at his mother.

"...you’ll need to stop collecting powers."

She smiled.

"And start deciding what Strax truly is."

This time, he did not respond with a joke.

He simply stared at her.

Scathach stood from the bench and adjusted her clothes.

"Tomorrow morning."

Strax raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Your first training session."

"Why tomorrow?"

"Because today you invited me out."

She extended her hand.

"And I’m not finished yet."

Strax looked at her hand.

Then laughed.

"You’re really going to exploit this all the way to the end."

"Absolutely."

He took his mother’s hand and stood.

"Fine. Where now?"

Scathach smiled in a dangerously satisfied way.

"I want ice cream."

Strax closed his eyes.

"You’re an ancient creature."

"And?"

"Nothing."

She started pulling him back toward the streets.

"Come on."

Strax let himself be led.

The runes could wait until tomorrow.