Chapter 3: Quincy
The Main character looks a bit like Jugaram Haschwalth + A ohysique like young Yhwach.
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Everyone in the colosseum was shocked by Asta's immediate refusal, a response that seemed almost unthinkable.
For years, the Soul Knights had refrained from recruiting anyone during the annual Magic Knight selection.
The fact that Nero himself, the mysterious captain of the squad, had come forward to try to recruit someone specifically hinted at the incredible potential he saw in them.
Unfazed by Asta's refusal, Nero turned to Yuno. "And you, Yuno? Will you join my squad?"
Yuno, unwavering, shook his head. "No, just like we agreed before coming here. Me and Asta want to become the Wizard King on our own terms—not with help or special treatment."
Nero observed them both for a moment, seemingly considering their words, but he only gave a small, approving nod.
Turning to his vice-captain, a green-haired woman named Nel, he spoke in a calm, commanding tone. "Meet me at the Kira estate. There are no other worthy candidates left here."
Nel nodded obediently, acknowledging his decision.
Then, to everyone's surprise, Nero's body began to crack and dissolve into motes of shimmering blue light—it was only a magical projection he had sent.
But just before he fully disintegrated, his piercing gaze locked onto William Vangeance.
His stare was sharp, almost predatory, and it lingered on the Golden Dawn captain as though he were scrutinizing every detail, every unspoken intention, with unwavering focus.
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As Nero's projection dissipated, he focused on the writhing figure in front of him, a man broken in both body and spirit, gasping and begging for mercy.
"Please… please!" the man choked out, desperation twisting his face.
"I swear, I didn't mean any harm! They made me—there was no other choice!" He tried to crawl forward, his outstretched hand trembling as he reached for Nero, eyes wide with terror.
"Mercy! I'll do anything you want, I'll be loyal—I'll…"
The man's arm suddenly started glowing with a blue energy as spikes of solid light emerged, turning the hand into a pin-cushion.
"Aaah."
This was part of his recent attempts at "quincyfication," a process inspired by his rediscovered memories.
Unlike the hollows, Nero was attempting to convert others, pulling from the very essence of his "magic," which he now understood was a carbon copy of Quincy abilities in nature.
However, every attempt so far had ended in failure.
People couldn't withstand the transformation, lacking the fortitude—or perhaps he was missing the method to embed a fragment of his own essence into them, like Yhwach's technique.
But even in failure, each experiment had given him insight.
And he wouldn't let the betrayal to his kingdom go unpunished.
As the man reached Nero's feet, clawing for any chance of reprieve, Nero lifted his hand.
With a cold expression, he released a small, concentrated blast of mana that erased the man's hand entirely, the flesh and bone dissolving into nothingness.
"You should've thought about the consequences," Nero said icily, his voice echoing with finality.
"When you chose betrayal for some measly wealth."
The man let out one last scream, but it was cut short as Nero finished him with a precise blast, reducing him to nothing but ash.
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Nero flew through the sky, mana-crafted wings unfurled behind him in a blaze of ethereal light.
Far below, he could sense the watchful eyes of the pesky elves.
Their caution was warranted—he was among the only beings capable of wiping them out with ease and thwarting all their plans.
His power was not an empty boast; it was a truth known throughout the kingdom, one that he had proven against none other than Julius Novachrono, the Wizard King himself.
That battle, a clash of forces so immense it could have been mistaken for a calamity, had taken place far from the capital.
Yet, the people of the kingdom had witnessed it as if it unfolded just beyond their walls.
The sky had split with flashes of light and rumbles of thunder, each clash reverberating like an earthquake across the land.
Blades of mana and torrents of time magic twisted and crashed, bending reality itself.
The air itself had gained additional weight , choked with the dense mana they unleashed.
Julius, wielding his time magic, moved in a rhythm only he could orchestrate.
But even he found himself barely evading the relentless attack prowess Nero wielded.
Nero's attacks were fierce and precise, his mastery of mana and "light Creation" honed to a razor's edge.
His power surged forth in waves that fractured the very ground, shattering boulders into dust and sending tremors through mountains miles away.
At the height of the battle, Nero had nearly struck Julius down.
In a moment where Julius faltered, unable to summon his magic in time, Nero's blade of light lunged forward—a strike that could have ended the Wizard King in an instant.
Only a last, desperate maneuver spared Julius from the fatal blow.
For the kingdom, the battle had become a legend, a reminder of the powers that protected—and threatened—the realm.
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Nero landed softly in the courtyard of the Kira estate, his mana wings dissipating as he touched down.
Nel, his vice-captain, stood ready, her posture firm as she bowed respectfully.
"Captain," she greeted, rising from her bow with a focused expression.
Nero returned her nod. "So, what of Asta? Did Yami recruit him?"
"Yes, Captain. Yami accepted him into his squad," she replied, her tone carrying just a hint of curiosity.
Nero looked away briefly, seeming satisfied. "Good." He then reached into his pocket, pulling out a polished silver medallion, engraved with faintly glowing runes and symbols.
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He held it out to her. "There's a mission for you, Nel—a personal one."
Nel took the medallion, examining it. "A mission with… this?"
Her brow furrowed in confusion, the ornate object clearly unlike any typical magical tool.
"This medallion is designed to sever the bond between a mage and their grimoire," he explained, his voice carrying the weight of careful preparation.
"It will allow you to wield their magic as though the grimoire were your own. I need it tested."
Nel looked up, comprehension dawning on her face.
It made sense now—this was a delicate task, something he couldn't trial himself without attracting unwanted attention.
If it worked, the medallion could change the balance of power in battles where grimoires were a mage's power source.
"But if it doesn't work," he continued, "there's a red button on the underside. Press it, and the grimoire will be destroyed entirely. Better to leave no loose ends than let it fall into the wrong hands."
Nel's gaze hardened with understanding. "I understand, Captain. And where do I test this?"
"There's been word of a trafficking ring near the Spade Kingdom's border, operated by rogue mages." Nero handed her a small, carefully marked map, indicating a remote region.
"Infiltrate their operation, gather what information you can, and use the medallion to see if it performs as expected."
Nel took the map, her expression serious. "Understood, Captain. I'll see to it."
He watched her with a steady gaze, his face unreadable. "Good. And remember, discretion is paramount. I don't want anyone catching wind of this tool or its capabilities—not yet."
Nel gave a firm nod, tucking the medallion and map securely into her bag.
Her resolve was clear. "I'll return only once it's done."
Nero inclined his head, watching as she turned and moved off into the shadows, her footsteps fading as she disappeared into the night.
Left alone in the quiet courtyard, he allowed himself a moment of reflection, knowing this was only one step in a much larger plan.
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Inside the Black Bulls' headquarters, the air buzzed with excitement and laughter as Asta stumbled back inside, panting from exhaustion yet grinning ear-to-ear.
He had just completed Magna's initiation test—a brutal gauntlet of fireballs hurled at him at high speed.
Despite its challenge, Asta had stood his ground, dodging, weaving, and blocking each fiery blast with sheer grit, earning the admiration of the Black Bulls.
Magna slapped Asta on the back, laughing heartily. "Not bad, kid! You actually made it through ! Thought I'd roast ya for sure."
Asta chuckled, clutching his side. "You're gonna need way more fire than that to knock me down!"
Luck, the "crazy lightning guy" as Asta had already labeled him in his head, darted forward, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ooh! I wanna try him next!" he said, sparks practically radiating from his fingers. "Let's see if he can dodge lightning like he dodged fire!"
"No way! I'm still recovering from the fire," Asta exclaimed, but he laughed along, already feeling a strange kinship with these , chaotic people.
Finral sighed, hovering near the sidelines. "Can't you all just ease up a bit? I think you're scaring the poor guy."
Vanessa chuckled, lounging nearby with a half-empty glass of wine. "If he's gonna survive as a Black Bull, he better get used to this madness," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Madness?" Asta repeated, grinning with determination. "Bring it on! I'll prove to you all that I'm going to be the Wizard King someday!"
Magna laughed again, giving him a nod of approval. "I like your spirit, newbie. But let's see if you're still saying that after a week in here."
Yami, the Black Bulls' captain, watched the scene from his spot on a nearby bench, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
Though he didn't show it, Asta's resilience had impressed him a bit.
He leaned back, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Alright, quiet down," he finally ordered, his voice immediately silencing the lively crowd. "Welcome to the Black Bulls, Asta. You're one of us now, so get used to the insanity."
Asta nodded firmly, his gaze bright and determined. "I will, Captain Yami. !"
Yami just grunted in response, a faint smirk on his face as he watched Asta's energy infect the others. "Alright I'm gonna go take a shit "
The initiation had shown everyone im the squad that this loud, determined kid was no ordinary recruit.
He had joined a squad known for its chaotic energy and outcasts, and he fit right in despite not being the same chaotic type.
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The Black Bulls headquarters was its usual chaotic self, with Asta and Luck loudly sparring while Vanessa sipped on her drink, laughing at something Magna had said.
Suddenly, a heavy, powerful aura swept through the room, silencing everyone.
The doors to the headquarters creaked open, and in walked Nero.
Nero's boots thudded heavily against the stone floor as he entered the Black Bulls headquarters.
Magna, who had been lazily lounging at the table, froze when he saw the man. He leaned forward, squinting at Nero. "Who the hell is this guy?"
The rest of the squad paused, turning to look at the unfamiliar figure.
No one in the room recognized him, and that alone made them suspicious.
Nero was dressed in white, attire, a cloak trailing behind him as his cold eyes swept over the room, ignoring the people milling around him.
His aura was unmistakable—dangerous and unyielding.
The tension in the air thickened as Nero's gaze lingered, briefly meeting Asta's before sweeping over to Yami.
Yami, who had been lounging at the back of the room, didn't even flinch as Nero's eyes fell on him.
He'd been expecting this.
The man had tried—unsuccessfully, of course—to poach his squad members on more than one occasion, and this time, Yami knew it wasn't going to be a simple "visit."
"Yami," Nero's voice cut through the murmur of the room, deep and commanding. "We need to talk."
Yami sat up straighter, eyes narrowing as he scanned Nero.
There was something off about the man's presence today—something more intense, more serious than he was used to. "What do you want, Nero?" Yami's tone was sharp, as always, but he could sense the weight behind those words.
Nero didn't answer immediately.
The squad members were still watching curiously.
Magna, still sitting at the table, exchanged a glance with Finral. "Hey, do you know who this guy is?" Magna asked. "I've never seen him before, and that's saying something."
Finral, who had been absent for most of the day's earlier events but was lucky to see the man , squinted. "Je is the captain of Soul Knights"
Yami finally stood up, his eyes never leaving Nero. "I'm assuming you didn't come here just to stare at me," Yami said, his voice cool and collected, though the edge of irritation was evident.
"You've tried to poach my squad members before, and I'm not in the mood for that."
Nero didn't respond with words. Instead, he took a step forward, his gaze unflinching.
He was used to intimidation, and this wasn't the time for petty exchanges. "We need to speak outside," Nero said, his tone final.
Yami's eyes flashed with suspicion, but he didn't hesitate. With a swift movement, he gestured for Nero to follow. "Alright, let's take this outside. But if you're wasting my time—"
"I'm not," Nero interrupted, cutting him off, his voice colder now. "Trust me, this is important."
With that, Yami led Nero out of the building, and the members of the Black Bulls watched in silence as the two men disappeared through the door.
The murmurs started immediately after they were out of earshot, but it was clear they weren't going to get any answers until Yami did.
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Stones and Reviews please