Chapter 1013: A Walk with Scathach (Part.I)

A Walk with Scathach — Part 1

Morning in Asgard was only beginning when Strax finished his final set of exercises on the grounds behind the mansion. The earth beneath his hands had been marked by repetition, and a thin layer of sweat covered his arms as he kept his body steady, lowering and raising himself at a constant rhythm. He had stopped counting in his head some time ago; a small mana formation beside him recorded every repetition for him, keeping him from losing count while he thought about more important things. Titans, gods, the Planetary Core, the transfer of the Witch Congregation, the growth of the army, and his own Ascension kept piling up in his mind like problems that would inevitably end up at his doorstep.

When the counter finally changed to ten thousand, Strax extended his arms one last time and stood. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck, and took a deep breath, feeling his body recover far too quickly for that kind of exercise to still represent a real challenge. For any human, ten thousand push-ups would have been absurd. For him, at his current stage, they served as little more than a routine and a way to organize his thoughts.

"I have to get stronger," he murmured.

Strax looked at his own hands and flexed his fingers a few times. Physical strength was not exactly something he lacked; his draconic body had already reached a level where simply increasing muscle would bring smaller and smaller returns. His experience in Tartarus had made that even clearer. He could devour power, accumulate energy, create new weapons, and crush enormous creatures, but reaching the next stage would require something different.

"Push-ups aren’t going to solve this shit."

He stretched and started walking toward the mansion. The problem was not simply acquiring more energy, but learning to use what he already had more effectively. The Gauntlet of Darkness was an obvious example: an artifact he had practically improvised and that still possessed functions he was only gradually discovering. His White Fire and Black Ice were also continuing to evolve, but Strax knew there were other areas he had barely begun to explore.

That was when he thought of Scathach.

His mother knew far more about dragons than she usually showed in ordinary conversation, especially when the subject involved ancient structures of power. Draconic runes were one of those things. Strax knew the basics, recognized some of them, and could understand certain patterns when they appeared before him, but he had never studied them in any real depth.

Scathach, on the other hand, had grown up surrounded by that knowledge.

"Maybe it’s time to ask the old woman."

He entered the mansion through the side door and started looking for her. She was not in the kitchen, nor in the inner gardens or the small room where she usually drank coffee in the morning. One of the employees told him Scathach had decided to "help with a few things," which clarified absolutely nothing considering the extremely broad definition that woman had for helping.

Strax eventually found her in one of the guest rooms.

The door was open.

Scathach was kneeling beside the bed, leaning down to reach the deepest part beneath the furniture while holding a cloth in one hand. For some reason, she had decided to wear a maid dress that she had probably borrowed from one of the employees, and her careless position made the outfit ride up far more than it should have.

Strax stopped in the doorway.

He watched for two seconds.

Then sighed.

"You’re showing way too much, Mom."

Scathach stopped moving her arm under the bed and slightly turned her head.

"Then don’t look."

"That’s not the point."

She finished pulling something out from under the bed—a small lost box—and finally stood, adjusting the dress as though that solved the entire discussion.

"It doesn’t matter if you see."

Strax ran a hand over his face.

"Another man might see."

Scathach looked genuinely confused, glanced around, and then looked back at him.

"What other man?"

Strax fell silent.

She spread her arms.

"All the employees here are women."

"That doesn’t mean you need to walk around like the concept of clothing doesn’t exist."

"I’m wearing clothes."

"Barely."

Scathach smiled in satisfaction, clearly enjoying his irritation more than she should have. She placed the box on a dresser and wiped her hands on the apron, watching Strax carefully. The fact that he had personally come looking for her was enough to make her suspicious.

"What do you want?"

Strax raised an eyebrow.

"Why do I have to want something?"

"Because you came looking for me."

"Maybe I just want to talk to my mother."

Scathach stared at him.

Then she pouted slightly.

"You almost never do."

Strax exhaled through his nose.

"Here we go."

"It’s true. You’re always surrounded by your wives, solving wars, disappearing into Tartarus, playing with Vex, talking to Witches, finding ancient trees underground..." She started counting on her fingers, feeding her own complaint as she went. "Meanwhile, your mother is being completely ignored."

"Completely is an exaggeration."

"Almost completely."

"Also an exaggeration."

"A little ignored?"

Strax thought about it.

Scathach narrowed her eyes.

He gave up on answering.

"Change clothes."

She blinked.

"Why?"

"We’re going for a walk."

Her expression changed immediately. The pout vanished, replaced by a curiosity that Strax almost found amusing.

"A walk?"

"Yes."

"You and me?"

"No, Mom. I’m going to invite half of Asgard and leave you walking behind us."

Scathach ignored the sarcasm.

"Where?"

"Haven’t decided yet."

She began smiling.

Strax noticed and pointed at the dress.

"But change that."

"You don’t like it?"

"It doesn’t matter whether I like it. You’re cleaning a guest room dressed like a maid for some reason I honestly don’t want to understand."

"I was bored."

"That explains even less."

Scathach walked up to him and stopped close enough to study his face. There was clearly something behind the invitation, because Strax was not exactly known for organizing outings without a reason. Even so, she decided not to press. If he wanted to spend some time with her, she could discover the reason later.

"How much time do I have?"

"Ten minutes."

"Fifteen."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

Strax sighed.

"Just go."

Scathach walked past him looking satisfied and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Strax standing in front of the room.

He watched his mother walk away and shook his head.

Naturally, there was a reason for the invitation.

Strax needed to learn more about draconic runes, understand how ancient dragons transformed concepts into marks, and discover whether that knowledge could help him on the path toward a divinity of his own. Scathach probably knew more about it than anyone currently available in Asgard.

But walking up to her, asking for help, and immediately turning the conversation into a lesson seemed like a terrible idea.

Especially after the complaint he had just heard.

Strax put his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the mansion entrance.

"First the walk."

A small smile appeared.

"Then I ask the favor."

At least this time he was learning something about diplomacy.

Scathach took exactly twelve minutes.

Strax knew because he stood in the entrance hall watching the clock while several employees passed him and tried to hide their smiles. Apparently, the news that he was taking his own mother out for a walk had spread through the mansion at impressive speed. When Scathach finally appeared at the top of the staircase, the maid dress was gone. She wore much simpler clothes: a dark skirt falling below her knees, low boots, and a light blouse beneath a thin coat. Her hair was loose, and without any armor or draconic adornments, she looked far less threatening than usual.

Strax looked at the clock.

"Twelve minutes."

Scathach descended the final steps.

"I negotiated twelve."

"I ordered ten."

"And I accepted twelve."

"That’s not how negotiation works."

"It worked."

Strax decided not to argue with a woman who had apparently treated orders as suggestions since before he was born. He simply opened the mansion door and gestured for her to go first. Scathach raised an eyebrow at the small display of manners but said nothing. The satisfied expression that appeared on her face said enough.

The two began walking through Asgard’s streets without any escort. There was no real need for soldiers to follow two creatures capable of turning an assassination attempt into an inconvenience, and Strax preferred not to turn the outing into a procession. The morning had advanced enough for the avenues to be busy. Merchants were opening their shops, adventurers crossed the streets toward the Guild, and wagons loaded with goods traveled toward the inner districts. Strax’s presence still drew attention, but longtime residents had already learned that stopping in the middle of the street to bow to him was an excellent way to irritate him.

Scathach watched everything in silence.

She already knew Asgard, naturally, but there seemed to be a difference between living inside the mansion and actually walking through the city without any objective. Her eyes followed children running between small stalls, soldiers talking with merchants, and groups of foreigners trying to understand the public maps installed on street corners. There was a subtle satisfaction on her face that Strax noticed, though he did not comment immediately.

"It’s different," she finally said.

"From when?"

"A few months ago."

Strax looked around.

"It’s getting too crowded."

"Is that bad?"

"No. Just means more problems."

Scathach laughed. "You build a place that is safe, rich, and organized, then complain when people want to live there."

"I didn’t complain."

"You just did."

"I stated a fact."

"Of course."