Black Clover - By My Side (Asta X Noelle)

Chapter 50: Black

[It appeared as though humanity would be destroyed by demons. But a single mage saved them all. He was called the wizard king, and he became a legend.]

Asta POV:

The clash with the bandits intensifies, each swing of my sword and surge of Noelle's water magic adding to the chaotic atmosphere. As the fight continues, it's become clear that these bandits aren't normal. They possess unique magical abilities that I've never seen before, ranging from paper, plant, string, and metal magic. Not to mention, their teamwork is top-notch, on par with what you'd expect from magic knights. They time their attacks for when I dodge, making it harder to effectively fight. I've realized that jumping around dodging their attacks is more harmful than good. If Noelle wasn't with me, watching my back, I don't know how I would get out of this situation.

Biding my time as I catch my breath, I look over to Noelle. Her water magic envelops two bandits, pushing them towards the ground. However, the attack isn't very effective. They quickly get back up, channeling their own magic to counter her attacks. Water meets fire, earth, metal, and other various forms of magic, and the battleground crackles with energy. They're trying to overwhelm her!

Quickly, I jump into action to intercept one of the bandits, trying to create an opening for Noelle to escape the deadlock she's found herself in. As I run over to her, the ground begins to shake, sending vibrations throughout my entire body. Cracks and crevices begin to split the ground.  Both Noelle and I make eye contact with each other until it's suddenly obstructed by giant walls of rock erected from the ground, separating the battlefield. The walls climb higher and higher, enclosing me into a dome with only the very top left open in order for light to peer in. 

"NOELLE!" I bang on the walls of the dome, hoping for any sign of breakage, but to my dismay, it does not budge. Wielding my sword, I plant my feet firmly on the ground, while rotating my torso in order to generate a powerful swing. I swing at the wall, with tremendous power, yet the wall stands, unfazed.

"Try all you want, but it won't work," those words pierce through my focus, bringing my attention to the other man in the dome with me, "you two are quite the pair. I didn't think it would be this hard to take you out. But as the leader of this merry group, I decided to take you on myself," he says while gesturing to himself. 

I survey the man, and my anticipation swells. I can feel it- he's different. The bandit leader, a rugged man, exudes an air of hardened determination. His sturdy build suggests a life that is physically demanding. His face, weathered from countless days in the wild, carries a multitude of scars, each telling a story of battles fought and won. Deep lines trace the corners of his piercing hazel eyes, eyes that hold a glint of cunning intelligence. His gaze is intense and calculating, reflecting a mind that has honed battle hardened judgement and an instinct greater than most.

His attire mirrors his rugged demeanor. He wears a combination of makeshift leather armor and woven fabrics, giving him both mobility and protection. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding his earth magic. Contrasting his rugged appearance, is expensive jewelry, rings, bracelets, and necklaces which must be his spoils of war.

His presence commands respect. His ki is similar to Captain Yami's in a sense. "What are you doing in this village," I scream, attempting to slice through the anticipation, "you aren't supposed to be here!"

The man laughs, seemingly dumbfounded at my question, "the real question is, why are you here? I thought you little magic knights went home. So why do I find it that you're still at my doorstep," he questions, glaring at me.

"What do you mean you're doorstep?" My grip on my sword tightens, "this village doesn't belong to you. You're intruding on the people who live here, causing nothing but trouble."

"The creatures who live here?" The man barely gets out his sentence, overcome with laughter, he covers his face and does nothing but laugh for the next ten seconds. Why is he so lax? Sweat begins to roll down the side of my face. Finally, the mans' laughter subsides, and in that same instant he looks me dead in the eye, "nothing lives in this village anymore. I got rid of them all." A grin begins to take shape on his face, seemingly from ear to ear, "you should've seen it! The chaos, the bloodshed, the way they begged! It was all so beautiful." 

"What the hell do you mean by that?" I interject, letting my emotions get the best of me, "You killed the people of this village, and for what, what could they have possibly done to deserve that? To have their futures, their hopes, their dreams, stripped away from them!"

The man stares at me, with a look of disgust on his face, "Isn't one entitled to indulge in their desires? That disgusting village before I arrived was filled with nothing but peasants and the meager scraps they called food. Who would grieve for a village like that? Only pitiful souls would mourn such wretches, and I wager those would be the very ones dwelling within. Thus, I deemed it an act of mercy, a kindness even, to put an end to their insignificant existence."

His words, twisted and confusing, fuel my anger. Instinctively I raise my sword, every fiber of my being consumed by fury. His words cut through me like a blade, my heart aching for the innocent lives he so easily destroyed. An unrelenting rage that demands justice. As the bandit leader's laughter echoes in my ears, I can feel it boiling over. Without a second thought, I charge towards him, my vision a blur of red. The world around me narrows to a singular focus - to obliterate this man who dares to stand before me. 

I lunge at him, my sword poised to strike. He sidesteps, avoiding my attack with surprising ease, and sends a strong jab towards my stomach. I take the hit, staggering back, gasping for air. My rage has made me reckless. This isn't just about me anymore; it's about the innocent lives he's claimed. The lives he could take if I let him walk!

"You little twerp," he snickers, his eyes reflecting his enjoyment in this battle. "You think you can stand against me? I've fought countless battles, faced numerous opponents, and emerged victorious every time. You're nothing."

Despite his words, I refuse to be defeated. I try to predict his next move, read his ki, anything that can give me an upper hand. It becomes evident that he isn't solely relying on his strength. His earth magic works in tandem with his combat skills, allowing him to control the battleground. Whenever I attempt to get close, the earth rises beneath him, creating a barrier or propelling him away.

"From watching you fight my grunts I noticed how that sword of yours works. I'll admit, I was surprised at first, to think anti-magic exists. But it's useless against the natural elements. Therefore, if I use my mana to manipulate the earth around me as opposed to conjuring it through magic, your anti-magic won't be able to do a thing. It's nothing but a gimmick." The man laughs, taunting me with with every breath he takes.

I attempt a series of fast strikes, dodging his attacks and find openings where I can strike. As the battle rages on, I find my rhythm, finding myself able to land more attacks while successfully dodging his. I might be able to get off a big attack here! He's slowing down! Pouncing on this opportunity, a feeling the adrenaline pushes me beyond my limits, the bandit leader grins, catching me off guard.

Before I can process his sudden change in demeanor, the earth below rumbles ominously. The ground at my feet shifts, making me lose my balance. Attempting to regain my footing, I'm blindsided when a sharp, jagged spike of rock emerges from the ground at blinding speed, piercing my stomach.

Time seems to slow. Pain. An indescribable, intense, burning pain. My vision blurs, and I look down to see the rocky spike impaled through me, blood seeping around it, staining my clothes.

The arena becomes eerily silent, the only sound being the harsh panting of my breath and the muted whispers of the wind. My grip on my sword weakens, the weapon slipping from my grasp and clattering to the ground. The weight of my body leans onto the spike, making the pain even more unbearable.

The bandit leader steps closer, his grin more pronounced. "I told you, boy," he taunts, voice dripping with malicious glee. "You're no match for me."

Each word is like a dagger to my heart, exacerbating the physical pain. He's right after all, I fell for his trap. The thoughts of my friends, my dreams, the memories of all the challenges I've overcome come flooding back. Tears well up in my eyes, not just from the pain, but the overwhelming feeling of failure.

"Noelle," I rasp out, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she's okay. And with that, my senses begin to fade and my vision turns to black. 

[Chapter 50 end]