Watching Esil disappear into the room, Scáthach didn't go looking for some empty corner to loiter in. She simply waited quietly by the door.
"Was that little girl your sister?"
Scáthach turned toward the voice. A stranger with a friendly smile was sitting on a bench against the wall. He tried hard to look relaxed, but Scáthach's sharp senses caught his nerves at once. She knew that kind of tension well—like a student about to walk into the college entrance exam, even their breathing held tight and careful.
He'd probably started chatting to distract himself, to take the edge off.
"You guessed right," Scáthach said with a harmless smile, picking up the conversation naturally. "If I didn't come with her, she absolutely refused. It's been a headache…"
"Hahaha! You two must be really close." His laugh was a bit too loud, his fingers unconsciously rubbing at the hem of his clothes. "Your little sister taking the level test, and you, as the older sister, coming all the way to accompany her…"
"It's nothing special. I'm here for the level test too," Scáthach said lightly. "Since she's that clingy, I just scheduled us both for the same day. Saves me from making two trips."
"Huh? So you're testing too? I see…" The man blinked, then hurried to reassure her. "But really, there's nothing to be nervous about. As long as you're not E-Rank, it's all workable. Even a D-Rank Hunter still has a chance to make something of themselves."
Those words are for you, aren't they?
Scáthach saw straight through the brittle calm he was forcing on himself, but she was kind enough not to say it out loud.
"I think you'll reach C-Rank," she said with a small smile, warm but certain. "Congratulations in advance."
"Ah… huh? Really?" He clearly hadn't expected such a confident verdict. After a moment's stun, gratitude surfaced on his face. "Then… thank you for the good luck, miss."
Scáthach had already sensed the mana circulating in his body—it really was at a C-Rank level. But of course, he would never imagine that. He took it as simple encouragement from a stranger. Seeing his shoulders finally relax, Scáthach couldn't help a faint chuckle.
Before long, the door beside her opened again. Esil stepped out, her expression… strange.
It seemed the level test didn't take long at all.
"Scáthach…"
Esil walked up to her, frowning in confusion. "They said something about S-Rank… what kind of level is that? Why did the machine suddenly malfunction when I put my hand on it like they told me to? Did I do something wrong?"
Esil hadn't lowered her voice. The moment the people in the lobby heard her, it was like a bomb went off in their minds.
First came an eerie silence. Then the room swelled into noise, overlapping murmurs bursting everywhere.
"Did I hear that right? Did she just say S-Rank?"
"I heard it too!"
"No way… how long has it even been since Sung Jinwoo became the tenth S-Rank Hunter?"
"Are we getting an eleventh S-Rank Hunter in South Korea?!"
The man who'd been chatting with Scáthach a moment ago was already stunned into a daze.
Scáthach swept her gaze over the crowd, taking in the tangled expressions—shock, suspicion, awe—then gave Esil a calm smile.
"Looks like you gave everyone quite a scare."
"How was I supposed to know S-Rank was that dramatic…" Esil scratched the back of her head, embarrassed, her voice dropping. "I was worried the machine showed an error because of me… would they make us pay for it?"
"Is that so?" Scáthach's eyes flicked, amused. "That's on me—I didn't explain the standards here ahead of time." She spoke evenly. "S-Rank… let's put it this way. Sung Jinwoo is S-Rank."
"…?"
Esil froze, eyes widening.
"I-I-I… how could I be the same level as Lord Jinwoo? There has to be some mistake!"
"There's no mistake. Don't react like that." Scáthach soothed her, then explained. "The device in that room can't measure mana fluctuations beyond a certain strength. Anything over its upper limit gets labeled S-Rank. In other words… you're S-Rank because your strength truly is S-Rank."
She paused, letting it sink in.
"And Sung Jinwoo is S-Rank only because the scale stops at S."
After hearing that, Esil finally found it much more believable, and the panic in her face slowly eased.
Just then, as if remembering something important, Scáthach asked, "By the way—did you get your Hunter License? Without a license, we can't enter a Dungeon."
"License? Ah…" Esil slapped her forehead, remembering. "The people inside said because the machine malfunctioned, I need to go to the Hunters Association headquarters in a few days and retest with their equipment. They said they can't issue the license until then."
"…."
Scáthach rubbed her chin, realizing she'd overlooked another detail.
That was troublesome.
She'd brought Esil here specifically to get the license quickly—and now it would be delayed by several days. And she had no intention of wasting that waiting time.
The whole "retest with the headquarters' more advanced equipment" line was nothing but official cover. At best, headquarters equipment was a little more precise. If Esil's mana exceeded this branch's measuring limit, then headquarters wouldn't be able to measure it either.
The Hunters Association was doing this for one reason: to make contact with a new S-Rank Hunter before any guild could. Every new S-Rank upset the balance of power. The Association wanted first mover advantage.
All around them, the recruiters from those smaller guilds stared at Esil like she was a priceless delicacy. They wanted to sign the new S-Rank immediately, but they also feared their guilds were too small to "hold" someone of that caliber. One after another, they hesitated—eager, but not daring to step forward.
It was Scáthach's turn to test. Before going in, she warned Esil carefully, "Stay here. Don't run off. Don't talk to strangers. If anyone tries to sign you, ignore them… and above all, don't hurt anyone."
"I know!" Esil stamped her foot in embarrassed anger. "Has anyone ever told you you're really naggy? I'm not a child—I can take care of myself."
She was a demon! She might look young, but her actual age was far from it. Why did Scáthach always treat her like a kid?
Being underestimated like that made Esil seethe.
Scáthach finished her own evaluation quickly.
She became a very, very ordinary A-Rank Hunter.
With five Holy Grails inside her, Scáthach could have gotten an S-Rank as easily as breathing. But she wanted the license immediately—wanted to take Esil into a Dungeon right away—so she used exquisitely precise mana control to fool the machine.
With a license in hand, Scáthach and Esil could head out to play in a Dungeon.
Gates connecting Dungeons to Earth were largely controlled by the Hunters Association and major guilds, of course—but that wasn't a problem for Scáthach.
If they were the first discoverers of a Gate, they could legally handle it themselves—sell it, or clear it on their own—without anyone making a fuss.
With Scáthach's ability, she could even find Gates that hadn't fully formed yet by tracing distortions in space, then use the Holy Grails' mana inside her to stimulate them into forming early. All she had to do was inform the Hunters Association staff that a Gate had appeared, and then she could bring Esil to clear it.
Inside this Dungeon, the monsters they encountered were called Flame Imps. They were vaguely humanoid, but their entire bodies were wrapped in fire. Calling them "flame men" or "fire beasts" would've fit just fine…
They were basically that recurring Digimon villain, Meramon.
"Why am I the only one fighting while you just stand there watching?"
After killing nearly fifty Flame Imps, Esil stopped and turned to Scáthach with a baffled look.
"I just can't be bothered…" Scáthach hadn't even drawn a weapon. Hands in her pockets, she looked utterly unmotivated. "They're too weak. If you tossed them into my Land of Shadows, they probably couldn't even adapt to the environment, let alone survive. No matter how many there are, it's not enough to get me warmed up."
Curious, Esil asked without thinking, "Then what would it take to get you warmed up?"
"Hm…" Scáthach tilted her head as if considering it seriously. "At minimum, a hundred dragons—or maybe a thousand demon boars—so this rusty body can really start moving."
"That's horrifying! Are you trying to end the world?!"
Unlike Scáthach, Esil actually had plenty of drive. It was her first time leaving the Demon Castle—and in the Demon Castle, it was demons and more demons. This was also her first time fighting monsters that weren't demons, and the novelty kept her energized.
The first being Esil had ever met who wasn't a demon had actually been Sung Jinwoo—and he'd beaten her down hard. If she hadn't surrendered quickly, she might've already died under his blade. In that sense, she really was lucky.
And Scáthach only now learned that Esil used a spear.
Back in the Demon Castle, Scáthach had occasionally peeked over there with [Clairvoyance], but when Esil followed Sung Jinwoo around, Sung Jinwoo killed almost everything himself. He was worried that if Esil stole the kills, he wouldn't get experience.
Scáthach stood to the side, her eyes tracking Esil's every movement. From time to time, she couldn't help offering a few pointers.
"Relax your shoulders. Don't rely only on your arms—think of power rising from the ground, waist and stance moving as one. Let the force travel from the soles of your feet through your hips and legs, into your shoulders and arms, and finally out through your fingertips to the spearhead."
"Your base is stable, and your thrusts are sharp. I can tell you've trained strictly. But your legs are a bit stiff, and your technique favors straight thrusts…" Her gaze narrowed. "Are you more used to fighting on horseback?"
Esil hadn't expected it—just from a handful of exchanges, Scáthach had seen through her completely.
The moment those red eyes—overflowing with something almost demonic—swept over her, Esil felt a chill, as if she'd been stripped bare and couldn't hide a single secret.
"Ah… sorry." Scáthach said frankly, almost apologetic. "A bad habit, perhaps. When I see a talented warrior, I can't help myself—I want to step in and guide them." Her tone turned faintly regretful. "It's a shame. The disciples training under me right now have dreadful talent with the spear. I haven't been able to show them a thrust that can slay even the gods."
The Flame Imps infesting the Dungeon couldn't pressure either of them. Before long, the two cleared them out as easily as dusting off a bookshelf.
Their leader—the Flame Lord—was a hulking brute.
Staring at Scáthach and Esil as they entered the Boss room, it demanded furiously, "Why?! You're clearly a demon—just like us, a monster! Why do you stand with humans? Why do you help humans slaughter us?!"
The Flame Lord fixed its gaze only on Esil and ignored Scáthach entirely. After all, only Esil had been killing Flame Imps so far, and outside of combat Scáthach's presence was oddly easy to overlook.
Esil couldn't be bothered to respond. Demons were selfish, and their hierarchy was rigid. A Flame Lord with only A-Rank strength would amount to nothing more than a high-grade demon in the Demon Castle. Esil, meanwhile, was a demonic noble—by rights, it wasn't even qualified to speak to her.
"Ms. Scáthach, are you still not going to move?" Esil pointed at the Flame Lord and asked. "This is the Final Boss of the Dungeon. It's the strongest monster here."
"…Meh."
Scáthach strolled past Esil, unhurried. She raised her right hand in a loose gripping motion—and in the next instant, a vermilion long spear appeared in her grasp.
"It's so weak I can't muster any interest," she said, calm as ever. "But I can't exactly be picky at times like this. I'll make do."
A hot wind laced with sparks swept through the room. The temperature spiked in an instant, like stepping into a sauna.
The Flame Lord was furious. Truly furious.
It was the Flame Lord that ruled the Flame Imps! Yet these two intruders didn't look at it with the slightest respect, like it was nothing more than a dish on a table and they were arguing over who would pick up their chopsticks first.
And that "attendant" who'd been trailing behind the female demonic noble the whole time—how dare she call it weak?!
Unforgivable!!
"I'll make you pay for your arrogance! Burn to ash in my wrath—"
It rose from its throne, launching into an impressively cringe declaration.
It didn't get to finish.
A vermilion bolt pierced straight through the waves of flame and shot forward.
The Flame Lord didn't even understand what had happened before Scáthach's thrown crimson spear punched through its skull. Its massive flaming head exploded into drifting fire-rain—strangely not gruesome, almost beautiful.
Scáthach lifted her hand and recalled the spear. Unhurried, she remarked,
"So noisy. And in the middle of summer, too—making it this hot. What if you set my new clothes on fire?"
She let out a soft sigh.
"I'm craving ice cream… I really hope the next Dungeon is on a cool, snowy plain."
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