Chapter 440: Chapter 440: Scylla’s Determination

[Third Person Pov]

"Whatever you’re planning, I want to watch," Medusa said, her gaze fixed on the exchange between Lucian and Scylla, clearly intrigued by whatever the two of them were setting up.

Lucian glanced at his godmother and raised a brow, "Excuse me?" he asked, unable to hide the amused, teasing edge in his tone as if he already suspected she wasn’t wording that quite right.

Medusa rolled her eyes and shook her head, though there was nothing but fondness behind the gesture, "I meant supervise. I want to supervise whatever it is you’re planning," she corrected, her voice more measured but still carrying that same curiosity.

"Oh, alright, sure. I don’t mind," Lucian replied easily, shrugging his shoulders as if her presence made no difference to him. "What I plan isn’t really dangerous anyway. All I’m going to do is drain her of her blood and carve on her skin," he added, casually waving his hand in front of him.

Scylla and Medusa both turned to look at each other for a brief moment, silently questioning if they had heard him correctly, before slowly turning back toward Lucian.

"I’m sorry, what did you just say?" Medusa asked, her voice laced with clear bewilderment as she tried to process how casually he had said something that absolutely did not sound casual.

...

Within the training hall of the castle, Medusa stood with her arms crossed, watching Lucian with a flat, unimpressed expression as he moved around the room, carefully lighting candles one by one to prepare the space.

"That wasn’t funny," she stated plainly, her tone firm but not harsh.

"It was a little bit funny," Lucian replied, pinching his fingers together to emphasize just how little, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "See? Even Scylla is laughing."

And she was, albeit quietly, clearly amused by the way Lucian had deliberately phrased everything he intended to do, turning something serious into something that sounded far worse than necessary.

Medusa let out a soft scoff, though there was a hint of a smile hidden in it, and leaned back against the wall, deciding not to argue further. She remained there with her arms crossed, silently observing as everything began to fall into place.

"Now before we begin, I’ll ask you this," Lucian said, his tone shifting as he turned to Scylla, his expression growing serious in a way that made it clear he was no longer joking. "Are you sure you want to do this? Once I start, it’s going to be difficult and painful to reverse. And I need you to understand something—what I’m giving you are essentially auxiliary tools that will help you. They won’t truly be your own strength at first. You’ll have to work to make them yours over time. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?"

Scylla smiled at him, her expression calm but firm as she nodded without hesitation. "This is my choice, one I’m finally able to make for myself," she said, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. "For most of my life, my actions have been guided by instinct more than anything else. But this is different. This is something I’m choosing on my own, without anything clouding my judgment."

Lucian held her gaze for a moment longer, as if making sure there was no doubt or hesitation hidden beneath her confidence, before giving a small nod in return. "Okay then."

He stepped forward and gently pushed two wooden bowls closer to her as she sat cross-legged in the center of the room, the candlelight flickering softly around them.

Scylla didn’t hesitate. She extended both arms toward him, turning her wrists upward in silent readiness.

Lucian took her hands carefully, his eyes searching her face one last time for any sign of reluctance. Finding none, he reached into his shadow and pulled out a small ceremonial dagger. With precise, controlled movements, he slit both of her wrists and held them over the bowls, allowing her blood to flow steadily into them.

She didn’t flinch.

As time passed, the color slowly drained from her face, her breathing becoming a little quicker, a little heavier as the effects began to show. Once he judged it was enough, Lucian began chanting softly in ancient Greek, the words low and steady, carrying a quiet weight to them. At the same time, he ran a finger along the cuts on her wrists, and as he did, the wounds closed seamlessly, leaving behind no trace.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his focus entirely on her condition as he made sure she was still stable.

Her eyes were half-lidded, faint shadows forming beneath them, her posture slightly slouched as her body tried to compensate for the sudden loss. Her skin looked pale, a light sheen of sweat visible across her face. "I’m fine... just a bit lightheaded," she murmured, her voice weaker but still steady enough.

Lucian offered her a small, reassuring smile, one that carried a quiet warmth meant to ground her. "Don’t worry. Once we’re done, I’ll make you something warm to eat and help you get your energy back."

"Yay... it’s been a while since I had any of your cooking..." she replied, managing to muster a faint hint of enthusiasm despite her current state.

Lucian let out a soft breath, then straightened slightly, his focus sharpening once more as he prepared to continue.

"Let’s officially start," he whispered.

Scylla dipped her fingers into the bowl of blood, letting them soak as Lucian began to move around her, rising to his feet while chanting under his breath. His hands hovered just short of her skin, never quite touching, yet close enough to feel like they were guiding something unseen into place.

The words leaving his mouth were a seamless blend of Greek and Latin, layered and rhythmic, making it impossible for anyone else in the room to follow. To Medusa, it sounded like little more than structured nonsense, but the weight behind it made it clear it was anything but.

The blood coating Scylla’s fingers began to glow, a vivid crimson that mirrored the intensity of Lucian’s eyes. Slowly, it started to move, slithering like living threads up each of her ten fingers. As it climbed, it formed intricate symbols, ancient text, and sigils that looked far older than anything commonly known. The markings didn’t stop there. They spread across her hands, trailing up her arms, branching over her shoulders and across her face before continuing downward along the rest of her body, reaching all the way to her feet until the bowl beneath her was completely empty.

Lucian raised two fingers near his face, his expression focused as his voice cut through the air, "Now brace yourself. This is the part that’s going to hurt, since it’s going to feel like you’re being branded... which you are."

"I’m ready..." Scylla replied, nodding with determination as she steadied herself, her body tensing in preparation.

Lucian pulled his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

The reaction was immediate.

A sharp cry tore from her throat as the glowing markings flared brighter, the sensation shifting from warmth to searing heat as if the symbols themselves were being burned into her skin and carved into something deeper.

"Ahhh—!" she cried out, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes from the intensity.

Medusa didn’t move. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch. Her gaze remained fixed on Scylla, calm and steady. This had been her choice, and Medusa respected that enough not to interfere, even if it hurt to watch.

When Lucian finally released his fist, the glow began to dim slightly. Scylla’s body sagged where she sat, her breathing uneven as sweat clung to her skin. Her entire frame trembled, weakened from both the blood loss and the pain that still lingered beneath the surface.

A small whimper slipped past her lips. "Ow..."

Lucian stepped closer and gently placed his hands against her cheeks, his palms warm against her skin as he closed his fingers slightly, holding her in place. He whispered again, quieter this time, the words softer and more contained. Scylla couldn’t make them out, but she could feel them, like something settling into place.

The markings across her body began to shift.

They moved slowly, almost lazily now, slithering across her skin as they gathered and split into two flowing paths that traveled upward, converging at her cheeks. As the symbols pooled beneath his hands, a bright crimson light flared, forcing Scylla to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment.

Then, just as quickly, it faded.

Lucian pulled his hands away.

On each of her cheeks rested a glowing red star, pulsing faintly before the color gradually dulled, the light draining until the marks settled into a dark, ink-like black.

Lucian conjured a mirror with a small motion of his hand and held it up in front of her. "What do you think?" he asked.

Scylla’s eyes fluttered open as she leaned forward slightly, turning her head from side to side as she took in her reflection. The stars sat neatly against her cheeks, subtle now but still distinct.

"Woah... they’re beautiful!" she said, her face lighting up as she puckered her lips and shifted angles repeatedly, clearly fascinated by how they looked.

"What do you think, Medusa?" she asked, smiling brightly, the marks lifting slightly with the motion.

"I think they suit you," Medusa replied, a hint of approval in her voice before her gaze shifted back to Lucian. "What do they do?"

Scylla looked at him expectantly as well.

"Nothing too crazy," Lucian said with a small shrug. "They convert her stamina into magical energy, which she can use to release eldritch blasts from her hands. With enough practice, she’ll be able to do more than that, but that’s the foundation. They also tap into her nymph bloodline, so she can access water-based elemental magic."

"Hehehe..."

Both Lucian and Medusa turned toward Scylla at the sound.

The stars on her cheeks flared back to life, glowing red once more as her eyes lit up with energy. Her fist clenched, trembling slightly as power gathered and pulsed around it.

"This has to be the coolest thing ever!" she said, barely containing her excitement.

Without another thought, she thrust her hand toward the nearest wall. A burst of magical energy shot forward, striking it with a sharp impact.

The moment it left her hand, her strength gave out.

She tipped sideways, collapsing onto the floor, breathing hard. "Why am I so weak..."

"You numbskull," Lucian said immediately, his tone flat as he looked down at her. "I literally just said it converts your stamina into magic. You’re already weak from bloodletting. What made you think that was a good idea?"

"Hehehe... I forgot," Scylla admitted, her voice sheepish as she avoided eye contact.

"I said it a few seconds ago," Lucian replied, staring at her. "How do you even forget that fast?"

Scylla just rubbed the back of her head with an awkward smile, clearly not having a good answer for that.

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