Black Clover : Asta's Father

An Exploration of Vergo and his past.

As the dust settled and the Clover Kingdom began to emerge from the chaos of the attack, the citizens cautiously returned to the streets

Nero observed the scene for a moment before turning to Vergo with a pointed instruction, he could go and massacre the elves but that would leave a lot of opportunities for him to take advantage of namely zagred and the reincarnation ritual.

"Repair the damages."

With a nod, Vergo's grimoire appeared in his hand. Its appearance was strange—more a patchwork than a single tome, made from stitched fragments of other grimoires.

Upon closer inspection, one could see multiple three-leaf clovers melded into the cover, each piece representing the life of a mage Vergo had taken.

To an unknowing observer, Vergo might appear as a well-kept, even handsome, man.

But behind his appearance lay a dark history.

Vergo was older than Nero himself, though he bore the appearance of someone much younger.

This unnatural vitality was owed to his twisted application of magic.

Known in the past as the "Mage Hunter," Vergo had been, at one time, the most feared criminal in Clover Kingdom.

His Stitch Magic allowed him to bind and weave together things he could see touch, hear or smell —not only physically but conceptually and spiritually as well.

Using this power, Vergo had hunted down and killed over a hundred magic knights throughout his life, stitching the essence of their grimoires into his own.

The stitched tome in his hands was, in fact, a single amalgam made up of twenty-nine different grimoires, thirteen of which bore the three-leaf clover insignia.

Among those bound into his magic book were the grimoires of Acier Silva's parents, a grim and ironic twist that only added to his notoriety.

Vergo's grimoire became saturated with the stolen pages of others, yet his obsession hadn't ceased.

When no new stitches could be added to his book, he had taken to stitching the very body parts of his victims to himself, extending his life and stealing their magic in the process.

Through this macabre practice, he had retained a vitality and mana flow far beyond what any normal mage could achieve.

By his own estimations, Vergo's lifespan now stretched into the thousands, though this claim remained unproven.

Even so, the sheer longevity was undeniable, his magic preserving him long past the limits of a normal human life.

---

Some years ago..

[After Richita's Death]

The corridor leading to Vergo's cell was dark and silent, the air heavy with layers of enchantments designed to suppress any trace of mana.

As Nero approached, his steps echoed softly, cutting through the oppressive stillness.

He'd been briefed on Vergo's history—an infamous criminal, the Mage Hunter who had challenged a Wizard King in his reckless ambition, and lost.

When Nero neared the cell door, he felt a sudden shift in the air, a ripple that wasn't entirely natural.

Trusting his instincts, Nero tilted his head to the side just in time to avoid a thin, near-invisible thread of magic that bound the air itself, creating a sudden vacuum.

The space just beside him imploded with a muted blast, scattering dust and creating a faint shimmer in the barrier around the cell.

Nero paused, his eyes narrowing as he turned his gaze to the man within the cell.

In the dim light, Vergo sat motionless, bound in layer upon layer of sealing spells.

His arms, legs, and torso were wrapped in enchanted restraints, glowing faintly with a dense network of magical sigils that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his own heartbeat.

Though his magic was restrained to only the barest reach, Vergo's piercing gaze met Nero's.

He couldn't see this new visitor's aura, but he could smell his presence and strength.

Vergo's voice, muffled by the seals, cut through the silence like a blade when powered by mana. "Who are you…?"

Nero held his ground, expression calm. He wasn't here to reveal much. "Just someone with an interest in the past," he replied coolly while unlocking the seal om Vergo's eyes.

A flicker of curiosity crossed Vergo's eyes as he assessed Nero with the intensity of a predator sizing up its prey.

"They don't usually send people to visit me," Vergo muttered, his voice carrying amusement.

He tested his weakened restraints subtly, gauging the newcomer's reaction, but Nero's expression remained unreadable.

Nero observed him silently, considering the scars of magical seals covering Vergo's grimoire—a disturbing patchwork stitched together from the grimoires of countless fallen magic knights.

Each leaf on the battered, monstrous tome bore the evidence of Vergo's past crimes.

"I came to see if what I'd heard about you was true," Nero said evenly, his eyes not breaking from Vergo's. "The man who once thought he could challenge the Wizard King."

Vergo's eyes narrowed, his pride flaring despite his situation. "Thought?" he repeated with a cold smile. "There's still a world where I'd win."

Nero's expression was unaffected, his calm demeanor seemingly impervious to Vergo's menacing aura, even in its restrained state. "Perhaps," he replied nonchalantly. "But in this world, all that ambition ended here."

Vergo fell silent, his intense gaze lingering on Nero.

He didn't know who this young man was, but he sensed that he was not like any of the others who had passed by his cell before namely that brat with key magic.

Nero took a few more steps forward, pausing just outside the edge of Vergo's reach.

He gave a subtle, almost amused look before gesturing with a flick of his hand.

A light shimmered around Vergo's mouth as the seal restraining his speech fell away.

Vergo's lips curled into a predatory grin, baring his teeth. "You're either foolish, arrogant, or both," he said, his voice dripping with menace.

"Giving me even this much freedom… it would be enough to end you right here."

Nero met his gaze, and without a hint of fear or hesitation, laughed—a low, genuine laugh that echoed through the stone cell.

"Hahaha hahaha "

He leaned in slightly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of intrigue and disdain. "That's impossible, Vergo. After all… you're weak."

Vergo's grin faded, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Careful with your words, boy. I may be restrained, but I've brought down those stronger than you. Don't mistake these seals as a cage that contains me. If I wanted, I could—"

"You could what?" Nero interrupted smoothly, a mocking edge to his voice.

"Kill me? If you had that power, you wouldn't be sitting here. You'd be out there, still stitching together scraps of magic, trying to make yourself feel whole. "

"But here you are, bound and broken. Don't tell me you haven't yet realised, Vergo. The world has moved on. You're a relic and a fucking failure"

Vergo's eyes narrowed, a flicker of rage breaking through his usual controlled expression.

He leaned forward, pushing against the seals just enough to make them crackle and glow. "A relic? I am the reason many like you even fear the name 'mage.' My legacy is carved into the very bones of this kingdom. You wouldn't understand the power it takes to build something out of blood, fear, and despair."

Nero's smile didn't waver "Fear? Perhaps once, Vergo. But no ome remembers you."

Vergo's grin twisted into a malicious frown , his eyes narrowing as the air around him began to warp.

Without a warning, a series of thin, molten streams of metal shot out from thin air around Nero, searing through the air in razor-sharp arcs.

They sliced forward like blazing, liquid blades, aimed directly at Nero—but as they approached, the streams suddenly seemed to lose their form, splashing harmlessly like mere water against an unseen barrier just inches from Nero.

Nero glanced at the molten metal that splattered to the ground, its heat flickering and fizzling out, leaving only faint scorch marks on the floor.

He raised his gaze back to Vergo, an amused smirk spreading across his face.

"Is that all?" Nero taunted, folding his arms. "You go on and on about your power, yet you can't even land a single hit when it counts."

Vergo's eyes burned with fury as he strained against the seals. "If these restraints were gone, I'd carve you to pieces," he spat, voice filled with venom. "Or perhaps you're too scared to face me without these precious seals to keep me contained?"

Nero shook his head, chuckling softly. "Oh, I assure you, Vergo, I have no need for them. They're here for your benefit, to remind you of just how little you truly have left." He stepped closer, his voice dripping with cool indifference. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

Vergo's snarl faded, replaced by a wary, calculating look.

"I have a proposal for you," Nero continued, his tone sharp and businesslike. "I'll give you your freedom, let you loose from this cage. All you have to do is follow my orders." He paused, watching Vergo's expression, then added with a challenging gleam in his eye, "Of course, if you want, you can try to kill me now. But you'll fail, because—" Nero's voice dropped, cold and mocking, "—you're weak."

Vergo bristled, a faint tremor of anger rippling through his frame.

His teeth bared, but he held his tongue, watching Nero with a mix of hatred and curiosity.

Nero tilted his head, smirking. "So here's the deal: follow my orders, and when you've regained enough strength, then you can try to kill me. Until that day, however, you're mine to command. What do you say?"

Vergo's lips twisted into a slow, dangerous smile. "You're either insane… or bold beyond measure, or just fucking stupid" he murmured.

"Very well. But remember this—when I do get strong enough, you'll be the first I'll kill."

Nero's smirk deepened, satisfied. "I look forward to it. Now, let's get started."

---

Back to present

Vergo's patchwork grimoire began to glow, its stitched fragments resonating with the twisted magic within.

He extended his mana over the castle and the city, channeling his Stitch Magic to mend the torn buildings, fractured streets, and scorched walls.

Like invisible threads, his magic knitted the broken stone, brick, and mortar, restoring them to their original state as if the battle had never touched them.

The present was a stark contrast from the past.

Vergo's once-fiery drive to kill Nero had long since faded, replaced by something else—a reluctant admiration that had steadily grown over the years, something even he couldn't have predicted.

Therapy sessions, Nero had called them, where he'd slowly and methodically chipped away at Vergo's obsession and hatred.

Now, instead of burning resentment, Vergo found himself strangely at peace, even making it a personal mission to visit the graves of those he'd killed, as if to make some small gesture toward redemption.

Today, he looked on with awe at Nero, the man who had just cast a spell of such scale and complexity that it left Vergo's own abilities feeling utterly insignificant.

Watching Nero wield magic capable of blanketing an entire kingdom—magic that could, without question, decimate enemy nations if wielded with malice—left Vergo humbled.

To him, it was nothing short of godly, a display of power he once thought unreachable, even for himself.

With his work repairing the damages finished, Vergo turned to see Nero standing before the grand façade of Castle Clover.

Nero's gaze was fixed downward, toward the scorched earth where the immense rune ring from Kirchenlied: Sankt Zwinger had seared itself into the ground. The intricate pattern of runes, burned and practically etched into the stone, lay as a mark of the spell's overwhelming power.

Nero's eyes lingered on the markings, a faint smile playing at his lips.

Vergo noted the thoughtful gleam in Nero's expression, recognizing it as the spark of some new idea brewing within him. He stepped closer, curiosity piqued.

"You've left your mark on the kingdom, in more ways than one," Vergo said, half in admiration, half in dry amusement.

Nero chuckled softly, not taking his eyes off the scorched runes. "Perhaps. Though this…" He gestured to the scorched rune circle. "…gives me an idea. One that could be quite useful in the future."

Vergo's eyebrows raised, intrigued. "A nationwide spell wasn't enough for you?"

Nero shook his head, his eyes gleaming with quiet ambition. "No. This… this is just the beginning."

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