diskusbooks Chapter 3 The Land of Shadows
Chapter 3 The Land of Shadows
The next evening, Arthur arrived at the clearing deep in the forest as promised.
Mary was already waiting there.
She changed her outfit today; instead of the white magician's robe, she wore a deep purple long dress.
Her neckline was very low, a silver ribbon was tied around her waist, and her long, silvery-white hair was loosely draped over her shoulders, giving her a lazy yet alluring aura.
She leaned against the trunk of an old tree, holding a wildflower she had picked from somewhere, which she was casually turning in her hand.
"I'm three minutes late," Meryl said, glancing up at him. "I thought you weren't coming."
"I ran into a few knights on the way, which delayed me," Arthur said as he walked up to her. "You said you'd teach me the basics..."
"Who said I was going to teach you?" Mary interrupted him, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"I said 'I'll teach you some basics,' but I meant 'I'll teach you how to get to the Land of Shadows.'"
Whether you can learn anything there depends on yourself.
Arthur did not refute her, but simply looked at her quietly.
Mary felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and turned her face away: "...Alright, alright, come with me."
She turned and walked deeper into the forest, with Arthur following behind her, passing through groves of trees.
As dusk fell, the light in the forest dimmed, but Meryl's long, silvery-white hair shone faintly in the twilight, like a guiding light.
After walking for about twenty minutes, Mary stopped in front of an open space.
There was a strange thing in the center of the open space.
A door.
A door stands alone on the ground, without any walls to support it or any building to connect it to. It's just a wooden door frame, with a bottomless darkness in the middle.
"This is..." Arthur frowned.
"The entrance to the Land of Shadows." Merry crossed her arms, her tone as if introducing a piece of ordinary furniture.
"Go through this door and you'll be in Scáthach's territory, but let me warn you... that woman has a bad temper, and if you say the wrong thing, she might just throw you out."
Furthermore, the flow of time in the Land of Shadows is different from here. If you stay there for a month, only a day might pass here.
Arthur stared at the door, the darkness within seeming to ripple slowly with life, emanating a chilling aura.
"What should I do?" he asked.
"Go inside, find Scáthach, and then kneel down and beg her to take you as her apprentice," Melly said.
"Of course, if you don't want to kneel, you can stand. Anyway, given your personality, you probably wouldn't kneel down anyway."
Arthur glanced at her: "Aren't you coming in with me?"
"Me?" Meryl smiled.
"I am the guardian of Avalon, not a person from the Land of Shadows."
I don't get along well with Scáthach... Last time we met, I used my clairvoyance to look into her private parts, and she almost stabbed me with a gun.
"...What did you see?"
"I'm not telling you." Mary blinked innocently. "Anyway, you go in by yourself, I'll wait for you here...if you come back."
Arthur took a deep breath and stepped toward the door.
"Arthur," Mary suddenly called out to him.
He stopped and looked back.
Meryl stood in the twilight, her long silver hair blowing in the wind, her amethyst eyes reflecting his figure.
Her expression remained the same playful smile, but her voice held a hint of seriousness.
"Come back alive," she said. "If you die in there, I'll have no one left to flirt with."
Arthur smiled slightly, turned around, and walked through the door.
Darkness swallowed him.
Passing through the door felt like falling into deep water.
Arthur felt his body being pulled by an invisible force, heard the whistling of the wind in his ears, and saw only darkness.
He didn't know how much time had passed, maybe a few seconds, maybe a few minutes.
The ground beneath my feet suddenly felt solid.
He opened his eyes.
What I see before me is a completely different world.
The sky was a deep purple, and although there was no sun, a strange grayish-white light emanated from all directions.
The earth was black, like scorched rock, covered with cracks, and a faint dark red light could be seen flowing through the cracks.
In the distance, towering mountain peaks rise, their summits shrouded in gray clouds.
A chilling atmosphere permeated the air, not cold, but a deathly silence.
There were no birdsong, no wind, and even the sound of one's own breathing seemed to be swallowed up.
The Land of Shadows, the border between life and death, the resting place of the dead and heroes.
It was also Scáthach, the goddess who murdered gods, who had been imprisoned for a thousand years in solitude.
Arthur looked around, trying to find any trace of human presence.
His gaze fell on the foot of a mountain, where a black castle stood, its sharp outline seemingly growing directly from the rock.
A deep purple banner, embroidered with scarlet runes, fluttered atop the castle.
He walked toward the castle.
After walking for about an hour, Arthur finally arrived at the castle gate.
The door was open, or rather, there was no door at all.
There was only one huge arched entrance leading into the depths of darkness.
On either side of the archway stood a black stone statue, carved with some kind of monster he had never seen before, baring its fangs and claws, lifelike.
Arthur took a deep breath and went inside.
The interior of the castle was darker than the exterior.
Ancient runes were carved on the stone walls on both sides of the corridor, emitting a faint red light that illuminated the path ahead.
A faint smell of rust filled the air.
It was the smell of blood, but it was more than just blood; there was also an indescribable scent that belonged to "death" itself.
Arthur walked along the corridor, passing through stone doors one after another, until he finally arrived at a spacious hall.
The hall was extremely grand, with a dome so high that it seemed to stretch endlessly.
Black stone pillars lined both sides, their surfaces engraved with scenes of battle.
The battle between humans and demons, the duel between heroes, and the moment a scarlet spear pierces the chest of a god.
At the far end of the hall, there was a high platform. On the platform was a black stone chair, and a person was sitting in the chair.
No, it's not "sitting", it's "lazily leaning back".
That's a woman.
Her age was impossible to determine; she looked to be in her early twenties, but the depth in her eyes told Arthur that she had lived for a very, very long time.
Her long, deep purple hair reached her waist, the ends curling slightly, gleaming with a cold sheen in the dark red light.
Her skin was so white it was almost translucent, and her features were exquisite and aloof, like a work of art sculpted from marble by the most skilled craftsmen.
She was dressed in a black, tight-fitting combat outfit that accentuated her tall and mature figure.
He wore a dark purple cloak over his clothes, the edges of which were embroidered with golden runes.
Beside her feet lay a scarlet spear, the tip of which seemed to drip blood forever, yet the dripping never ceased.
Her eyes were sharp yet languid, like a beast dozing off.
Arthur saw many things in those wine-red eyes.
Lonely, exhausted.
There is also a kind of indifference to everything that has been worn away by the long years.
But in the deepest recesses of this indifference, beneath the surface almost invisible to those eyes, there was a faint, almost imperceptible, expectation...
Scáthach.
Queen of the Land of Shadows, Godslayer, and the immortal ruler of the Demon Realm.
He is also a lonely demigod who has stood on the boundary between life and death for thousands of years, both yearning for death and gently protecting his descendants.
Her gaze fell on Arthur, like a cold knife, cutting him open from top to bottom.
That wasn't hostility, but rather a form of scrutiny.
She was judging his worth, deciding whether he was worthy of her attention.
"A living person," Scáthach said, her voice cold and icy, carrying an undeniable authority. "And... a child."
Arthur stood in the center of the hall. He did not kneel, bow, or even lower his head.
He simply met her gaze calmly; his emerald green eyes held no fear, no flattery, only a composure beyond his years.
"I am Arthur Pendragon," he said, his voice not loud, but clear enough to carry throughout the entire hall.
"King of Britain, I have come to become your disciple."
Scáthach raised an eyebrow.
The movement was very slight, but it stood out conspicuously on her almost expressionless face.
"Become an apprentice?" She stood up from the stone chair, twirling the scarlet spear in her hand, the tip drawing a scarlet arc of light in the air:
"What do you think this is? A martial arts gym? Or a school?"
Her voice carried a hint of sarcasm, but not malicious sarcasm; it was more like the weariness of "I've heard this kind of thing countless times."
"I know this is the Land of Shadows," Arthur said, unaffected by her words.
"I know you are an immortal queen who has killed gods, kings, and everything you want to kill."
I came here because I want to learn the power to 'change my destiny'.