BLACK CLOVER: The Whisperer - Yuno Grinberryall

CHAPTER XXIV. At the End of the Day

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"You finally awake, you jerk?" Magna called with a subtle hint of annoyance in his voice. His gritted teeth and bared fangs were apparent, showing his anger as he held himself back from beating Heath and his men further. He moved his foot to Heath's shoulder, leaving an imprint on his face. He then glanced back at the rest of the tied men and pointed. "I'm going to rest a bit more, then escort you to the royal capital on my Crazy Cyclone."

He mentioned its name so proudly that he nearly forgot about his rage. His newly-formed smile turned upside down and he pushed his foot down further, attempting to intimidate Heath with a low growl.

The so-called Crazy Cyclone parked not far from where they were.

Xierra looked back, only to sweat profusely at its appearance.

"What? What's wrong?" Rhein asked, causing both him and Inari to look behind them. Their jaws either fell agape or their eyes narrowed whilst their brain tried to comprehend what they were seeing.

Crazy Cyclone was unique, to speak politely. And if they were to be completely honest, it was tacky and weird—with a skull as its head, some extra exhausts by its sides, and a leather seat to complete the look.

Rhein then looked at the brooms he brought back—ones he and Xierra rode with before arriving at Saussy—and put a hand on his chin. He rubbed it and muttered seriously, narrowing his eyes, "Should we name ours as well...?"

"What?" Xierra blinked, staring at their brooms in emphasis. "Why?"

"I don't know. It'll be cool. Maybe." Rhein shrugged, grinning. He patted the burnt robes draped on his forearm and looked at his partner. He laughed and spoke, "For good luck, I suppose. Lest they get burnt like these."

"You don't wear your brooms into battle, though," Xierra reasoned flatly. An image appeared in her head—she wondered if they actually could bring their brooms into battle. It would open a lot more options regarding battle tactics and strategies, and they would be able to move aerially, perhaps even attack and counter from the skies. "Or... maybe we could."

"See? I'm a natural-born genius."

"Believe what you want, kid." Inari sighed with a defeated look. His gold eyes remained glued on Magna's custom-made broom, wondering how much mana output he needed to make it float with all those heavy modifications or how much control he needed when steering the broom. Bluntly speaking, he wouldn't want to see another kind of it in his life. That thing is horrendous, Master.

Xierra chuckled, patting Inari's head and stroking it gently. She heard a sigh heavily sounded not long after, causing them to look at Heath who stared at the ground with lifeless eyes. Was he—perhaps—resigning to fate? Most probably not.

Something was stirring in his head.

A storm.

Chaos.

And a pinch of curiosity pushed Xierra to wonder further.

Magna scoffed and crossed his arms. "Spend the rest of your life atoning for what you did to those villagers, you bastards," he spat spitefully.

His grimoire flicked and moved beside him, following wherever his hand went to. This time, Magna grabbed hold of his grimoire and patted it to his chest. The flames that tied over Heath and his men grew larger and brighter, eventually branching like arms in an attempt to trap them further.

"They look like spiders," Xierra muttered, earning a nod from Inari and her partner.

"I fucking hate spiders," Rhein continued with distaste, shuddering.