Chapter Text
Asta would fully admit he was not expecting to get shot at again with one of those weird mirror beams.
Sure Gauche had lost his cool for a little bit when they were back at the village, but that was because he was worried about his little sister. Now that Marie was safe his weird sister complex wouldn’t be as bad right?
Nope! Not right, definitely not right!!!
Panic and blatant disbelief shot through him as his words seemed to have no effect on his senior squadmate. Asta barely registered Sister Theresa heading over to the kidnapped kids as he scrambled for any ideas to diffuse the situation.
Gauche’s furious yelling abruptly giving way to his normal bored cockiness was his only warning before a bunch of mirrors were surrounding him for one big blast.
Don’t we have bigger things to deal with right now?!
Bless Marie’s little heart for taking pity on him and trying to get her crazy brother to back off...
“These children have been completely drained of magic...”
Sister Theresa didn’t need to ask for their attention. Their petty fighting forgotten, the two siblings and Asta’s eyes snapped to the woman. To the small pile of kids around her backlit by the gentle glow of her grimoire.
The quiet shock from the normally stoic nun’s voice was unnerving on its own, but what she said was way worse.
Drained of- what?
“It’s been taken. And I don’t know if they can ever regain it.”
Time seemed to stretch as Sister Theresa’s sorrowful words rang in his ears. For an endless moment, everything else faded away.
In other words...they might never be able to use magic again. Or even feel it.
Memories flooded him.
He remembered Yuno and the rest of their siblings back at the church. Of how excited Aruru and Hollo got as they guessed what kind of magic they would have, or when they saw other people use spells. Of how naturally Recca and Nash had worked their magic into helping with their every-day chores. Of how Yuno had more magic power than anyone in the village, even before he got his grimoire, but always offered his help without a second thought.
“That’s what they wanted?”
His own voice sounded distant.
That’s what they were willing to take away?
But the words didn’t make it past the sudden tightness in his throat.
He remembered how he’d continued to practice and wait. How no one expected him to do or become anything. All the whispers and jeering. The pitying looks that followed him everywhere he went no matter how much he helped, how hard he trained, or how strong he got. All those hours, days, eventually years trying to use just the tiniest bit of magic. The Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony when he realized he wouldn’t need those scraps of leather he’d saved to make his own grimoire pouch. Fighting chains, pain, poisonous words that almost did him in.
He was reminded of what happened if he let himself think about it for too long. If he really let himself wonder about the fundamental part of himself he was missing. What he hadn’t even been born with.
Asta remembered what it felt like on the few occasions he’d looked at himself and saw the magicless, worthless freak other people saw.
Of how pathetic, wrong, and completely empty he’d felt.
It hasn’t hit me this hard since my fight with that chain guy…
And now others were going to feel like that too. Whenever those kids woke up from the snow guy’s magic trance anyway.
The idea of someone else understanding what all that felt like wasn’t comforting at all. In fact, the more he thought about it the more it made him feel sick. It’d be one thing if someone had asked what it was like and he told them himself. A bunch of innocent kids being forced into that position was something else altogether.
How- why? This was past hurting people, past what recovery magic could fix if it came in time. In a world where magic was everything this was ruining their lives! What could possibly be driving these people to do something like this?!
Marie started talking, her timid voice piercing through the fog in his brain as she answered the question he’d forgotten he’d asked.
“That big scary man, he said something about money…”
Asta had known rage.
What else would he call the feeling that drove him to tackle that drunk guy who stole Yuno’s pendant, or at the chain-magic thief who tried to kill him and take his brother’s grimoire? To defend Noelle against her terrible siblings, to fight them and the one sandy Golden Dawn snob? Or to keep charging at the freaky pale dude from the dungeon?
His anger had always been protective. And after the Capital Riot, he’d worked on it. On turning his strength and courage into something better and stronger. He was ready to fight and give it his all to put an end to the pain as soon as possible.
Even when it came to people that were more like monsters than human beings. Like the ice-magic jerk from Saussy Village or the zombie-making maniac and his backup at the capital.
But now?
Asta’s head was perfectly clear, the hand clutching his greatsword tightening even more with a rapid burst of power that seemed to come out of nowhere.
They are doing this for money? Looking at these kids and just thinking of the yul they can get out of them- it’s wrong! People aren’t just resources for you to use up and throw away!
The motion didn’t feel quite like his own as he turned his gaze on the one that started all this, face twisting into something he wasn’t sure he’d recognize.
“What kind of monster are you?!”
It wasn't a question. Just his disbelief and disgust voiced out loud. But he didn’t yell. The words carried low and rough - something he felt as much as he heard.
And this surging thing he was feeling…
Calling it anger didn’t cut it. It was more than rage or fury, more than just being protective.
Time warped again, the world returning to its normal speed while his thoughts raced even faster as he realized what the throbbing like a second heartbeat in his chest was.
Something that felt wrong, and right, and hot all at once.
The monster seemed to see exactly what the knight had just figured out, the coward suddenly stumbling behind the snow mage. The oversized guy didn’t even bother to answer the smaller one’s question.
He didn’t want to just finish this guy off and call the mission done. He wanted to hurt him.
I’ve never felt like this before. Do I really…?
Unwilling to turn his back on the psycho for a second, even with Gauche at his side, Asta stole a glance behind him as he stood his ground.
Sister Theresa had laid down the blond-haired kid she was checking on before and was going from one child to the next. The pages of her flaming grimoire frantically turned over as she tried one spell after another.
A familiar look was on her face. The one Father would wear after a hard year when trying to ration out what food they had to last through the winter. The face he had when he’d realized that one or more of them might not make it.
He thought about how the thug had called Marie ‘their little star,’ as if she was a thing for them to toy with. Remembered how badly hurt they’d found Marco out in the snow. How even through the flame recovery spell he’d felt the chill coming off the little boy as he’d fastened his Black Bulls robe around those small shoulders.
Now inside the caves, watching that same warm light fail and just reflect off of young blank eyes, Asta knew his answer.
Yeah. I do.
Movement caught his eye. His attention snapped back to the sick-minded man across the cavern who had a hand next to his weird glasses, feeding it some kind of sluggish purple magic for some reason and looking straight at him. Then laughing.
The same slimy laughter that had led them through the tunnels echoed through the cave, directed at him just like the guy’s fat finger as though Asta was the one off his rocker.
"Hey, he's some kind of freak! He doesn't have a scrap of magic power in him."
You think I’ve gotten this far without knowing that much? I might be a freak, but I’m not the one treating kids like they’re something to harvest!
"Can you believe it? I didn't even know that was possible."
‘Didn’t know that was...?! The seething, burning thing surged, a tense and unnatural stillness falling over the rookie. Making these kids magicless was exactly what your sick project was doing! Blood roared in his ears, almost deafening, his brow twitching with the pulse.
BA-DMP
"And look, he's not wearing a robe!”
BA-DMP
Like that matters...
BA-DMP
That's no Magic Knight,”
BA-DMP
A snarl vibrated in his head, genuine hatred welling up at the sight of that pasty face.
BA-DMP
“Just some stupid kid."
BA-DMP
So just like that you think I’m not even a threat to you? Well guess what.
BA-DMP
Robe or no robe, promise or no promise-
BA-DMP
I’m not gonna just stand by. I’m going to keep people safe.
BA-DMP
"Let's split up Neige. You take the girl's brother."
And that means you-
BA-DMP
Are done.
"Meanwhile I'll see what I can do about this little runt over here~."
The monster stepped forward, and Asta flew.
One moment he was by Gauche and Marie, the next he was there in the guy’s face. No more thoughts ran through his head as he hefted his weapon. There was nothing but the storm of memories, the image of those kids, a need to end this all released in a strained roar that didn’t sound entirely human.
The sword had never felt lighter.
There was hardly any resistance as he tore the blade through air, fabric, muscle, and bone alike. The fat body was sent flying into the cave wall, stone cracking from the impact with an explosion of dust.
He heard the others gasp behind him, probably wondering if he’d killed the freak. But Asta knew his own strength better than anyone. Knew exactly what the body he’d trained since he was five was capable of. He knew how to strike so he’d incapacitate someone with such a big weapon, still awake and alive without doing too serious damage or killing them.
As the dust settled, he already knew that there’d be broken ribs, but nothing was hit past that. The excuse of a person wouldn’t be standing up or even moving anytime soon. Even so...
Deep inside and still smoldering, there was that knowledge the criminal deserved so much worse. And that right now he could make happen.
“You won’t get away with this.” The low edge in the magicless knight’s voice rose, cresting into the powerful shout he was known for as he stood his ground.
Courage. Strength. This new…somewhat frightening urge.
It almost felt like handling a new weapon as they all settled into place.
A promise and truth as certain as the one made ten years ago in the blood-stained snow rang through his heart and the air.
“I will make you pay!”
.
..
...Time righted itself again.
===
They’d beaten him. The leader of the Eye of the Midnight Sun. There’d been a bunch of close calls, desperate moves made, new abilities gained…
It was crazy to think that just yesterday he’d been having a day off with Rebecca and her siblings. Now that all the craziness of what just went down was over, he had time to simply take a step back. To sit down and think while Finral recovered his mana.
Not that Asta particularly wanted to be doing that, but his head didn’t seem to have gotten the message. But now that the frantic fighting was over with it was like his thoughts couldn’t stop running. About both of the fights and all the terrible stuff that they’d discovered before them.
Dulled green eyes drifted to a certain part of the cavern. Covered in rubble like most of the cave, it was littered with shattered glass and broken lab equipment, the ground soaked with the stolen magic of eight kids.
He didn’t know when it had happened. It might’ve been during the fight with the mud monster and the freaky lady or the one between Captain Yami and the Licht jerk, but at some point the weird giant tube had gotten smashed in the crossfire. And with all the powerful magic that had been used a ton of the liquid had burned away.
If they’d been able to keep the kidnapper guy or the scary girl that had started the sick project, then maybe it wouldn’t have mattered if the magic was all spilled and dirty or if part of it had disappeared. Maybe they would’ve been able to get the magic back into the kids anyway. But they hadn’t, and Asta was pretty sure that nobody had any idea how to do it without them. After all, what those two had done was unnatural. Insane.
Even if there was someone who might be able to figure it out, by the time they were found and got over here what was left of the stolen magic would be gone. It was summer despite the layer of magic snow, and there was a hole in the ceiling that the magic would keep on escaping through.
Sheesh, this is a lot more deep thinking than I normally do… The two wounds above his knees throbbed, prompting him to tear his gaze away from the ruined lab area to them.
The pain honestly wasn’t that bad. Sure, the two larger wounds were aching but not much as they had been. And the smaller scrapes, bruises, and scratches were pretty much nothing. Overall it felt like he’d taken a bad tumble from a tree. Definitely hurt and sore, but nothing a good night’s sleep or two couldn’t fix.
Physically, I could keep going for a while. So why do I feel this tired?
Another dull throb echoed through him, this one deeper than any of the injuries the last couple battles had marked him with.
Closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair, Asta just let himself breathe for a second. To relieve the ache even in some small way. If Captain Yami, Finral, or Gauche noticed how weirdly quiet he was, they didn’t say anything about it. He was kinda grateful for that.
Now that I think about it, that’s probably what’s leaving me so exhausted.
Between what Sister Theresa and the mud monster had said, it was as though he’d relived those powerless years all over again in a split second, but eight times over. Once for each of those kids that might not ever be able to use magic again. At the end of it, it was almost like he’d been left hollowed out and drifting. And then just left there, wanting so badly to fill it with something.
His arm still tingled with the feeling of slicing his sword through the air, of sending that pasty-faced jerk crashing through solid stone. Of driving his bare fist through the same wall and leaving the monster in terrified silence. The rush of grim satisfaction. The writhing mess of emotion that had rocked through him. The need to make that terrorist pay.
“I want you to make me a promise Asta.” Red hair. Knowing eyes that were part of the reason the old man seemed so much older than he was. Lessons that taught him how to better use the sword as a weapon, all to achieve his goals.
The memory was blistering, and the magic knight rookie suddenly found it hard to breathe around the sharp stab of guilt that came with it.
Face twisting into a grimace, Asta shoved himself off the slap of rock and started doing push-ups on the cracked ground.
It was easy to tune out the renewed talk and banter between his captain and squadmates as he fell into the familiar up-down rhythm. He would’ve loved to try working on sensing Ki better, but he had way too much on his mind as it was. He needed to sort all this stuff out, and moving around had always helped him clear his head.
The bone-deep, almost groaning in his muscles as he worked them further almost gave him pause. Mud Dude got Miss Crazy to come over here pretty fast. And didn’t the spatial mage ask that Licht guy about reinforcements? His arms were fine, just sore, but he’d literally taken a couple shots through his legs.
He grit his teeth and kept going. C’mon Asta, push past your limits!
If he couldn’t push through the fatigue for a slow pace like he was doing, then how was he supposed to expect himself to fight if back-up did come? Just sitting around for them to show up would make his muscles get all locked-up and stiff anyway. A small workout like this would help them cool down.
Quit stalling already! Thinking of ‘Zell earlier made you feel like you did something wrong. Why?
The lingering sensation of the sword in his hand. Of hitting flesh. How the monster deserved it. Not really feeling any remorse when they needed to get rid of the mindless beast he’d been turned into later.
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I will make you pay!”
“The pain you’re in? Is nothing compared to what you deserve.”
Anger, disgust, hate, horror, WHY!?
A world-worn but trusting face.
“Just don’t use what you learn here for evil.”
Had he broken one promise to make another?
Yeah, that doesn’t look good. But I can’t judge myself just on that. If that was the case, then me and these Midnight Sun people would be the same just because we both fight, and we are not the same.
And the old man didn’t just tell me that. He told me to use the sword fighting he taught to make my dream come true and to achieve my goals. So what was I trying to do when I did that stuff?
Marco, Marie, and all the rest of those kids came to mind. The quiet screams that he had still been able to hear under the oversized criminal’s mad cackling. The blank stares as all those kids were forced to wait for their turn to be strapped to a chair have their magic sucked away.
Marco hadn’t remembered traveling to the caves or even getting hurt from tumbling through the tunnels when they found him. And when Asta broke the trance on the eight kids that had been drained, they were so out of it they’d basically been half-asleep.
On a personal level and as a Magic Knight, he’d had to save them and get them out of that nightmare. He wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if he hadn’t.
“How could you do something so screwed up? You stole. Their magic…! Can you imagine if someone had taken yours?!” Demanding - wanting - the man in front of him, as terrible as he was, to show he was capable of remorse and could change. Realizing with dread that he couldn’t reason with the guy because the scumbag didn’t even care about anyone else at all.
Out of all the people he and the others had gone up against, the only one who listened to reason was the snow guy.
I’m pretty sure Mister ‘Zell would agree that an evil person wouldn’t worry about that stuff. It might’ve been reckless and I know I wasn’t thinking, but that’s just it! The first thing I did was think of them. Of protecting the innocent. That jerk was anything but innocent, but I was going to make sure that he fixed this mess. Even with how much I wanted to hurt him I only did what I had to so we could take care of him.
Memories of Saussy Village came to mind. His first job as a Black Bull, the place where his promise to become the Clover Kingdom’s strongest mage really started to change from a dream to a mission.
“Sooner or later I’m going to be the Wizard King. But it’s not just about keeping a promise...”
The rest of his declaration was released in a steady breath as he reached seventy-four push-ups. “It’s about keeping people safe.”
And that’s exactly what he did. They’d gotten everybody out of there. Sister Theresa was already recovering pretty fast according to Gauche. As for those eight kids…
The Sister said she didn’t know if it was possible for them to regain their magic, but that wasn’t a ‘no’. This story wasn’t over yet, and it was already looking up.
Asta soon got to one hundred, thrusting himself to his feet with the final count. Exhaustion dragging at his limbs and feeling lighter than he had since the beginning of this misadventure, the boy collapsed onto the sheet of stone he’d been sitting on earlier with a relaxed grin.
Things are getting better.
He let his mind wander. Idly thinking about how the plants around Nean would probably get a nice boost with the layer of snow once it melted. How the mage that made it might be doing. The rest of the Bulls too - of what they might’ve gotten up to with the day off that hadn’t been crashed like he and four others of the squad had. Wondering how Noelle was holding up with having to keep an entire town calm when so many had their kids missing.
She seemed pretty flustered earlier, but I bet she’s doing fine. Despite her horrible family, Noelle was a lot better at taking command and keeping her cool in tough situations than most gave her credit for. Maybe it had something to do with the whole ‘royal duty’ thing and the reputation she’d grown up with.
Actually, that’s probably why she would freak out so bad in normal conversations and stuff. Just like how he didn’t get all the political things that went on in the higher circles of the kingdom, Noelle just wasn’t familiar enough with casual stuff where you didn’t have to put up a front-
The magicless knight was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of his name being said. Tuning back into the other Bulls’ conversation, he was pretty sure they were saying something about the hideout.
Not too eager to get up off the surprisingly comfortable slab of rock so soon, Asta simply lolled his head in their general direction. “Hm?”
“Oh, great timing kid.” Captain Yami’s upside-down and sideways face was one of boredom, confusion, and annoyance. “It was some scrawny spineless pillbug from the Mantis squad that delivered the alert from Noelle. ‘Think it was the same no-name that was at the entrance exam with you.”
Okay, that was not what he was expecting.
Asta propped himself up on his elbows in some vain hope that correcting his line of sight would help him make sense of the not-quite-question hurled at him out of nowhere. Brows furrowed as he tried to match the strange description to somebody he knew, it finally clicked.
“You mean Haha?”