Rough Draft, 5/23/2021
The Black Swordsman and the Apprentice
Prologue: A Shadowy Encounter in the Dungeon
Dark, deadly, and menacing – these are the words that pervades Bell Cranel's thoughts as he takes in the lofty form of the adventurer who had just rescued him from what was bound to be a gruesome demise. The blood of the bisected minitour below clings onto the man's armor; bastardized blacken steel seemingly drinking in the immediate carnage with all the gusto of a starved and untamed hound.
His face stuck into a nervous grimace, the Level One momentarily forgets about the danger he was previously in, and shakily lifts his head to meet the cold, detached orbs of his unlikely savior. Widened scarlet meets tempered onyx, yet, in that fleeting moment of domineering silence, only amplified by the hollowness of the Dungeon's ever-expanding chasms, he thinks to himself: "What lonely eyes he's got..."
Bell opens his mouth to voice his thanks, but stammers out a pathetic mumbling of incoherencies instead. He can't help but feel ashamed over his lack of spine and courage. Surely this adventurer in front of him wouldn't hesitate, the sole familia of the Goddess Hestia ponders, his presence is one of the utmost resolve and his eyes reflect years upon years of... struggle—
However, those self-depraving thoughts are dashed when, in the next moment, the swordsman breaks eye contact, heaves his great-sword from the minced remains of the Level Two monster, straps it onto his cloaked back, and silently makes his leave all in one fluid motion. Just as he appeared from within the shadows, he disappears before Bell's eyes with the black of his torn and worn mantle drowning him into the waning background.
Left to his lonesome, bathed head to toe in blood, with the exception of the corpse sprawled in two halves at his feet, Bell tries and fails to calm his beating heart. He had traveled to the Labyrinth City of Orario and registered at the Guild to become a full-time adventurer in order to delve the Dungeon all on the whim of a silly and childish dream.
—A dream of fairytale heroics; and the whimsical adventures of the Hero, who is basked in a strong party of friends, allies, and adversaries alike, all the while enjoying himself in the presence of the opposite sex... and possibly making a harem in the process ahahah.
"I wonder what makes a guy like him enter the Dungeon?" Bell says to himself with a combined breath of calm, relief, and most importantly, admiration for the Black Swordsman and the overbearing strength he possess despite his inner struggles. "It must be something amazing... nothing short of an amazing dream for an adventurer such as himself," he sighs with an honest smile on his lips.
The rapid pattering of approaching feet then greets his ears. In a fashion eerily parallel, yet so opposed to the adventurer who had just so previously come and gone with an air of gloom a top his broad shoulders, The Sword Princess, Ais Wallenstein makes her appearance in a brilliant flash of silver and gold.
His gaze catches hers and his recently amassed breath is taken away by those golden eyes and delicate features. His mind quickly becomes numb due to the beauty who comes to a full-stop directly in front of his prone form. She squats before the brutalized monster carcass; knees pressed against one-another and head tilted to the side as if questioning whether or not he is the one responsible for the minitour's cleaved in two state of being.
"...Are you okay?"
Once more, he opens his mouth to respond—
"Eeeeehhh...!"
Yet... he makes a complete and utter fool of himself.
And as he breaks into a sprint past Wallenstein with the flush of his cheeks thankfully drowned in the blood of the deceased minitour, he thinks to himself one last time before he exits the living walls of the Dungeon and enters the bustling townscape of Orario's merchant-streets: "Is it wrong to pick up girls in a dungeon? Ha-ha, yes, yes it is! This is much harder than you made it out to be, Grandpa!"
An: Simply felt like writing this after finding out about the Author of Berserk, Kentaro Miura's unfortunate death. Sadly, I don't know much about the plot of Danmachi (Look I just indulge in the wonders of fanfiction and am prone solely to fanon knowledge!) nor enough about the complex personality traits and overall mentality of Guts, so if anybody wants to take up this idea just go ahead! Therefore consider this up for adoption, go ahead and use this prologue if you wish. Looking forward to what someone can do with Guts in a shifty setting like Danmachi, where Gods and Goddess' exist simply to enjoy the fantastic yet sometimes bizarre and daunting particulars of the mortal realm (Can't imagine he'd like that).