Disclaimer: Black Clover is owned by Yūki Tabata, Studio Pierrot, and Shonen Jump.

Saga 6: Screaming for Vengeance Part 1

Ulster Territory, Spade Kingdom, Morning

Another morning dawns at the eternal sea of grass that was Ulster. Nonstop, they've kept traveling and traveling, training every day to get used to the dense mana around the region.

Jericho himself was doing practice swings with his pilfered Relic, [Hunter Chaser], Agi had just left at dawn to not incur his sister's wrath at the others, Corrin was handing in her revised maps and records of Ulster's bizarre cartography that had initially made conventional mapping near-impossible until Brigid chose to help (it is mentioned that Ulster is 70% illiterate and that they tend to either follow a specific herd of Wilderbeasts or other superstitions that had served them well in the past), Danu was drilling the other Magic Knights to focus on adjusting their mana flow to match that of Ulster's wild and sporadic mana that was akin to a raging ocean made of pure magic (nausea-like symptoms were shown during their first few days when they weren't screaming and panicking in terror at the pursuit of [Lindwyrms]), not unlike the sensations that one would get in a Grand Magic Zone.

... In fact, they were later informed that the entire region of Ulster was a Grand Magic Zone upon being informed what the term meant, much to the Magic Knights' dismay.

Regardless, there were no beasts chasing them for now, so everyone went about their day as one usually would.

"This sucks..." Dante groaned in his child form as he and his younger siblings washed this morning's dishes outside of the tavern building, "... I never did this before! We had other people doing it for us!"

"Complaining won't get them done any faster," Zenon pointed out, "it was already bad enough that one of them found our who we really are, so shut up and keep your head down if want to keep it!"

"... You know, getting decapitated by strong guys like them?" Vancia mused as her soapy hands absentmindedly wandered to her neither regions, "... might not feel so bad..."

"Fuck that! I wanna be the one cutting off heads!" Dante pulled his younger sister towards him, "I'm not the one bowing, they should be the one bowing before me-"

A heel then kicks down to Dante's head and pins it inside the soapy water mixed in with this morning's scraps. The one currently drowning the eldest Zogratis sibling was Cissonius, whose foot was currently drowning the rebellious brat.

"Dunno, ye look just fine groveling down there," spoke the kitchen hand before he glared at the other two with eyes akin to a wolf's, "... anything ye two pukes like to say?"

Both siblings shake their heads in agreement, to which Cissonius removes his foot from Dante's head pinning him inside the dishwater, causing the troublesome lad to emerge from the tub with heavy heaving and a round of coughs.

"Good boy," he smirked before Cissonius flicked his hand to reveal three grimoires with spades on each of them, "contraband. Der mine."

He then walks away as the three realized that the madman had literally stolen their grimoires for their infraction.

"... Stupid Dante," pouted Vancia, "why are you getting all the attention?"

"I WOULDN'T HAVE IF I WANTED TO, YOU DUMB BITCH!" he exploded as the two began arguing with each other while the youngest sibling watched in awkward silence.

Zenon sighs and just goes back to work, wondering if their bonds as siblings were being tested by whatever unknown powers that they might've inadvertently pissed off sometime in their past. Personally, Zenon himself was agnostic, but only to keep all of his mental bases covered.

Inside the tavern itself, a meeting was being held between the Captains and Dagda with Brigid as consultant of which tribe should be engaged first and how close they were to their current position.

Only one problem: all of the tribes in Ulster were nomads, meaning that like the Twrch Twryth itself, they were always on the move, so they have no specified area of settlement.

"That's an issue," Nozel sighed out, "how are we supposed to find any of them if they don't stand still?!"

"Fortunately, there is one event where all tribes all come together in a single place for something special," Dagda remarked, "we got something called 'The Thing'."

"... 'The Thing'?" said William, "... what, when and where is it? And why is it called, 'The Thing'?"

"We're close, it's happening this week at Summer Solstice," Brigid answered, " The Thing is when each different tribe gathered across all of Ulster would meet up at Geatland Hills and discuss intertribal politics, hunting rights, territorial disputes, diplomatic relations with other factions... you know, it's basically our parliament," she listed down Ulster's government, "... as for why is it called 'The Thing'... we're not a bunch of pretentious snobs who gives everything a fancy title," she pointed out, all of the Captains (and one Elf ghost) noting the slight hypocrisy of their so-called lack of pretentious name theming for their Relics being named in lost languages (which from a certain point of view, is pretentious of itself), "... point being, if you guys want to get all of Ulster behind Clover Kingdom, The Thing is the best time to get in good graces with em."

"And the reason we haven't heard about this is..." Dorothy pointed out at the information's sudden reveal.

"Look, ever since Ogmios took in three tykes as extra help, we kinda have to make sure that they're on their best of behavior around the chieftains," Dagda pointed out to the three kids washing the dishes under Cissonius' supervision, "kinda important, given that all of the chieftains showin' up there are strong as me, so best ye git on der gud sides. That and well, Summer Solstice wasn't around until you know, dis week."

"There's such thing as a 'one week's notice', you know," Nozel glared, disappointed at Dagda's lack of initiative, "warn us sooner!"

"Right, sorry," he apologized, "also, whatever ye do, don't say 'barbarian' at der earshot unless ye wanna die."

"Who are these tribes that we have to be wary of to apply such caution?" Nozel remarked, "last I heard, I though Fergus was the head chieftain here."

"... Yeah about that, the title of head chieftain was Fergus the last time we've heard," Dagda nervously chuckled, "as far as I'm concerned, it could be chieftains from other tribes that might've taken that title."

All the Captains (and again, one Elf ghost) stared at the half-Demon for his ignorance.

"... Look, I only started this tavern so I could git away from politics," Dagda explained, "I mean, running this place was hard enough as is. I don't need to stress meself twice over."

"The tribes," Nozel gritted his teeth.

"Right, them," Dagda cleared his throat and began explaining, "at Ulster, there are three major tribes that ye have to look out for de most. Smaller tribes either ally themselves under those bigger tribes or git wasted by a starving [Lindwyrm]."

"Fergus, also called Fergus the Virile leads the tribe know as the Offsprings," said Brigid, "they claim to be the descendants of Ulster's first chieftain, Beowulf the Beastslayer. Their demographics are the most varied. Name a race, and they'll be there. Human, Elf, Jotun, Dwarf, Demon, halflings, they're probably the largest tribe in all of Ulster in terms of sheer numbers," she explained, "and I'm just gonna get this out of the way, the whole tribe will ask for sex with anyone, and will immediately claim custody of the child without question."

"... I did not need to hear that," Dorothy winced.

"Don't worry, they won't force demselves on ye," Dagda remarked, "... except for Fergus's wife. She'll fuck ye without asking, regardless of gender or age."

"No exaggeration, but she's literally slept every being in all of Ulster with a pulse," Brigid grimaced, "... ourselves included."

Dagda and everyone else shuddered at the thought. "... If there's one silver lining, she's good looking. I swear, the whore stopped agin' last I saw er'."

"Anyone else?" Nozel groaned out, with the thought that now he has to look out for a sexual predator who might treat The Thing as an orgy if she had her way.

"Oh right, that," Dagda remarked, "next one's the Twister Sister Coven."

"They're an all-female coven consisting mostly of rouge witches from the Witch's Forest with some other females from other species, led by the Chieftain, Scathath of the Shadows," explained Brigid, "they view magic as absolute freedom and they tend to have no standards when it comes to magical innovation. Simply put, they tend to practice every single school of magic under the fucking sun, including creating an all-new sub-species of all-female Demons labeled the [Succubus], who will go after anyone with a working cock and milk them dry until the morning after."

"... Why... is there so many things walking around Ulster..." William sighed out, "... so starved for... fornication?"

"You know that Ulster has a lot of things that can kill ye, right?" Dagda replied, "how else are we supposed to not go extinct unless me make more babies than the Wilderbeasts can kill em?!"

... In a certain point of view, the Magic Knight Captains made sense of Ulster's... culture. In a way, it was akin to how rabbits breed so many so fast; to constantly repopulate in a piece of the world where the labels of prey and predator are always in a constant and violent flux.

"If there's one silver lining, is that only the [Succubus] artificial Demons are the only horny ones in the coven, and Fergus can satisfy all of em in one night," Brigid sighed out, "rest of them are either too busy with their craft or are in the middle of cloning themselves to act as stand-ins for anyone wanting some."

All the Captains groaned in disgust and semi-relief. "... Well, at least the mating is kept between similar species..." Nozel pinched the bridge of his nose only to realize that he might be instantly proven wrong, "... right?"

Brigid and Dagda shook their heads saying "no". Nozel then begins bashing his head against the table to cure himself the headache that he was going through right now.

"Next tribe... are a pack of talking Elderbeasts," Brigid explained, "the tribe, called 'The Animals', are led by 'Cunning' Cath Palug, who is over a thousand years old, but nowhere near considered as 'over the hill'."

Dagda then takes off shirt to reveal a massive claw-like gash raked across his back. "The cat literally was faster than me [Counter Magic]," he stated as he put his shirt back on, "out of all the tribes, The Animals are the smallest, but the most dangerous of the three."

"They're the most sought after for their genetics," Brigid pointed out, "in Ulster, that's kind of a big deal. Which, in your culture, might be considered bestiality, but here, half-Elderbeast children tend take every best hereditary trait from both of their parents and grow up to be stronger than both of them combined. 5-year olds become active hunters of beasts twice as big as them, and each Elderbeast has the physical strength of an apex predator and the magical wisdom rivaling my own."

"... Wowzers," Dorothy gasped, "so I guess the whole tavern is in itself, an Elderbeast?"

"Ye just figured dat out?" Moccus trotted up towards them, its snout rubbing against the witch's leg, "me momma ain't no Cath Palug, but she's the strongest momma in the whole wide world!

"Where are your rest of her litter?" asked William, to which the pig looked away forlorn.

"... Dey died," the piglet answered, "Dagda found me and momma after saving both of us from a really big monster."

"You're a good pig, Moc," Dagda rubbed its head affectionately, "don't let the other kids look down on ye git ye down, alright?"

Moccus nods as it goes back into the kitchen feasting on the scraps from last night and this morning.

William looks at the talking pig, whom despite being completely different species, was in fact, no different from a normal child who'd suffered a great trauma.

... This is about the Seabed Temple's refugees that you've heard this morning, right? Patry pointed out.

Poor Kaiser had to watch right after both the Wizard King and the Priests didn't tell him the truth, William bemoaned, even he knows that an apology won't be enough to mend his scars.

Fuck formality, growled Patry, what they did to him was wrong. I don't care if the Wizard King was simply respecting the High Priest's choice or if the adults chose to die! You don't lie to other people when lives are on the line!

... To think that the children of the Seabed Temple survived simply because of an initiative from the Seabed Temple to open up their borders to the outside world, William sighed internally, ... in a way, it was that hope for the future is what allowed the children of this generation to be saved, unlike Moccus' own sibling, who simply died due to natural selection rather than unforeseen circumstances like the Rain of Steel and the night when all of the spells simply disappeared from our grimoires.

... I know, but still... Patry gritted his teeth in frustration, it feels like all of this happened too quickly. It just doesn't... feel right!

It really doesn't, William agreed, almost feels like there some cruel god that is allowing this madness to happen. Penning this tragedy for personal amusement alone.

"... Well, depressing past aside, everyone got what they need to know?" Dagda spoke out.

"Yeah, I guess," Dorothy sighed out, "and where does Jericho fit in all this? I mean, he wanted to be a diplomat, so I thought you'd bring him in."

"Trust me, the boy already all that he needs," Brigid vaguely pointed out.

"More secrets?" Nozel snarled.

"After you callin' us barbarians?" Dagda pointed out, "boyo, if you wanna know something, ya gotta first learn to respect it."

"He's right, you know," Moccus remarked while eating, "you're kinda of an ass."

Outside at the front of the tavern porch, Danu was leading exercise drills to adjust the Magic Knights' bodies to be able to handle the saturated mana flowing throughout Ulster. The methods to said adjustment was basically physical exercises, but considering that about 90% of them were from noble families who more likely used their magic more than their actual bodies, even after weeks of training/adjusting, the results were still left to be desired.

Right now, they were holding themselves in a squat position, invisible chair-style. It was about 30 minutes. This form was meant to balance both the "mana" and the "body" to adjust their tolerance to Ulster's wild mana, the arms pointed towards the front representing the formless mana dancing in the wind that makes up the skies and the butt sitting on nothing representing the earth that stood firm and holds up the physical world. Mana and human body alone cannot exist separate or at the expense from the other, so in order to reach symbiosis, it is in the best interest of every Ulsterian living in this wild and untamed part of the world to be both top form in body and the mana.

... To the outsiders, this made no sense at all, and even after spending weeks trying to achieve this "balance", all they were assuming was that they were being physically tortured.

"Come on!" Danu barked out enthusiastically, in complete contrast to the others' strained grunts and winces of pain and sweat, "just a little longer!"

"... Gonna... die..." Salim, the penal-bound Silver Eagle Magic Knight heaved out as he collapsed onto his fours.

"... I must... stand firm!" Shiren gritted his teeth, sweat dripping from his brows.

"Not cool man..." David Swallow, a Golden Dawn Knight groaned out as he held himself up by placing his hands on his knees, "... not cool."

"And, stop!" ordered the Jotun, causing everyone to collapse onto their butts in sheer exhaustion.

"Oh my god..." Corrin cried out, "... my legs! ... MY LEGS ARE ON FIRE!"

Kirsch was too busy vomiting out the side of the boar to even talk.

"... Stop... breathing... all of you..." Letoile Becquerel wheezed, wiping her foggy glasses with her Golden Dawn robes, "... you're making me... more tired..."

"Fuck you all..." Solid smirked to hide his exhaustion, "... I... don't deserve this!"

"... Likewise," Nebra boasted, "... but... a noblewoman such I...! ... Must keep her... dignity!"

"That's the sprit!" Danu beamed, "that's it for this morning's warm-ups! Time for the real thing-"

Suddenly, the boar that the tavern and they were on stopped in its tracks, causing everyone to tumble towards their front from the torque.

"... Twrch Trwyth?" Danu spoke to the giant boar, "what's wrong?"

The giant boar carrying the tavern didn't even make so much as a noise. As if it were trying to not trying to wake something up.

"Momma?" Moccus, the talking pig trotted out of the tavern doors, "why did we stop all of the sudden?" the piglet asked before noticing that its parent was trembling slightly, "why are you shaking so bad?"

"What's going on?" said Nozel as everyone else came out to see that they've stopped, "why aren't we moving?"

"Perhaps there's something up ahead?" William surmised, "any volunteers?"

"Salim, you're the most expendable out of all of us," Nozel then kicked the penal Magic Knight to the curb, "go check and see."

Salim looks ahead of what's in front of them, only to see a figure slouched against a rock with a giant sword cradled in his embrace. Upon a closer look from the others, the figure in question was a regular-sized human figure wearing a rusted, moss and ivy-covered armor with an antlered helmet and a tattered cape draped behind its back. Its massive, two-handed broadsword that it held was old and worn from years of abuse, dull, bent, and serrated, its rusted blade wrapped in briars as if it were trying to keep the blade from breaking apart after one swing. Above all else, the figure was completely still as it sat in open plain, as if it were like a tree, an aloof, solitary part of nature itself.

"I see someone up ahead!" Salim cried out, "probably some guy!"

"A guy?" Corrin peeked up ahead, "... wow, his armor looks really chewed up."

"The heck is that?" Nebra asked as she looked at the wretch, "that's what's scaring the giant pig?!"

"... He... he can just run it over, right?" Salim remarked, kissing up to his social superiors.

"That's weird," Danu remarked, "... can't sense anything coming from it. Might be dead or just some armor lyin' about."

"Well, if it's scaring the sow so bad..." Solid flashed a predatory grin as he opened his grimoire as he jumped down from Twrch Trwyth's snout, "... then allow me to deal with it!"

"Hey guys," Dagda greeted as he came out of the door last, "what's goin' on? Why did we stop?"

"Don't worry," Nebra remarked confidently, "it'll be over soon."

"What do you mean 'over soon'..." Dagda muttered as he looked down where Solid was at, his [Water Magic] pointing towards the rusted armor with antlers that made Dagda's heart jump a beat faster, "... oh no."

"What do you mean, 'oh no'?" David asked, admittedly both curious and afraid of what's to come.

"GET OUT OF THERE NOW!" Dagda cried out, but it was too late.

"Eat this!" Solid grinned, "[Water Magic: Holy Water Assassination Bullet]!"

The water bullet fired towards the loitering knight before Dagda could warn Solid, with the rusted armor reacting faster than anyone could notice it waking up. Upon being roused from its slumber, the rusted suit of armor cut the water projectile in half with its dull blade before anyone can react to it, completely shocking everyone that had assumed that the wretch was no one special.

"... We're too late," Dagda muttered in fear as the rusted armor creaked its head towards Solid, "... that idjit woke him up!"

"Who?" Danu asked nervously.

"... The Green Knight," he answered with a gulp as the antlered armor menacingly limped towards their direction, dragging its rusted broadsword behind itself.

"... Huh," Solid grinned at the surprise before him, sweating a little at this admittedly-nimble haggard, "so you have a little bit of a fight in ya-"

But before anyone can speak or react, the Green Knight impales Solid through his chest with his thorny sword. Solid looked into the helmet's vents, only for find nothing but empty darkness staring back at him, except for the rust that had invaded this hollow form since time memorial.

"What is that thing?!" Nozel exclaimed as it readied his [Mercury Magic], only for Dagda to stop him.

"No," he shook his head in fear, "we need to run, now!"

With a hard kick to the boar's back, Twrch Trwyth was snapped out of its fear-induced funk and started running away in the opposite direction.

"SOLID!" Nebra cried out in desperation, "SOLID!"

"HE'S ALREADY DEAD!" Dagda cried out, "THE GREEN KNIGHT KILLS ALL THAT IT SEES WHEN IT WAKES UP-"

Suddenly, the very air began converging towards where the Green Knight stood. Mana, air, even their senses, all were becoming fodder to this walking parasite of nature that began devouring the world's soul itself. Solid, still alive even as he was held aloft with a sword impaled through his chest, found himself at the epicenter of a mana concentration that was so high that even in his neurotic state between life and death, he felt sick all the way down to his very soul at this Green Knight gathering everything around itself. The Green Knight, despite appearances, was alive, but completely wrong.

"... Who..." he groaned as he felt something moving inside the rusted armor, its antlered helm staring its empty blackness back at him, "... WHO ARE YOU-"

From where they stood, the Green Knight plants his sword into the very earth, burying Solid into the dirt as the undertaken sees the empty blue sky from in his trench.

"... It stopped," said Nozel as the air calmed down, "... what happened-"

Then breaking the dead silence, a massive tree the size of a small mountain exploded out of the very earth where Solid was slain and buried. The tree's trunk and barks were thicker than all of the world's castle walls put together, its sprouting and widening canopy completely eclipsing the sun from the skies above, it's heralding completely vaporizing Solid's body with the sheer force and size of the instant overgrowth, with the only thing left of him being the torn and bloodied Silver Eagles robe that fluttered in the air before landing on Nebra's laps.

She let out a few sobs as she picked up her younger brother's robes before letting out a sickening and baneful cry of despair.

"... What... what just happened?!" Shiren gasped in complete disbelief, "... what... who... is that?!"

"... It happened again," Dagda gulped as all of them stood completely dumbfounded, "... and now, it's going to happen again."

The massive tree begins to rot and collapse under its own weight, it's titanic size being too much for even Ulster's rich earth to even support, causing the lack of nutrition to cause the tree itself to quickly rot. In its decay, it's stone-like bark becoming soggy as wet bread, its once-verdant leaves drying up into cracker-like husks that rained upon them like snow from the sky, and its mountain-size crumbling like a sandcastle engulfed under a wave, the sickening sounds of rot and decay echoing across the vast, empty plains of Ulster, raining nothing but refuse and mulch before a cloud of dust spread outwards from its epicenter.

The noise rumbling from both the tree's decay and the dust storm up ahead attacked their very souls, the memories of one of whom they've lost becoming lost forever. Even Dagda knew that even his own [Counter Magic] couldn't stop the whole blast, let alone, stop the attack that was happening to all of their souls, but he had to something.

"... I'm sorry," Dagda whispered as he drew [Fragarach] and pointed it towards himself, "... but someone has to remember it."

He then stabs himself in the chest with the Relic as the massive blast of dust completely overtakes them. As the chorus of rumbling ceases, both the tree and the Green Knight were nowhere to be seen.

"... What happened?" Nebra asked before she looked at the ragged robe that was identical to her's, "and what's this doing here?"

"... Can I hold onto it?" Dagda requested to which she threw the dirty rag at his face, "... thanks."

"Ugh, I'm all filthy," she snapped before her stomach growled, "... and hungry again."

Everyone but Dagda goes back into the tavern hut, with only Dagda by himself with Twrch Trwyth.

"... It happened again," Dagda remarked bitterly, "... me and ye, pig. The Green Knight showed up and fucked with everyone's memories but us, ainnit?"

The giant boar nods.

"Dat Green Knight ain't right," the half-Demon remarked, "that thing kills not to eat or survive. It kills out of spite, against everything," he spoke, Dagda's bitterness turning into venom, "... Ulster's apex predator? BAH! Dat bastard has no respect for Ulster or life itself!"

Twrch Trwyth snorts.

"... I know," said Dagda as it rubbed the boar's giant head, "it's gonna come back for us. It'll keep coming back, try and kill one of us again, and make the rest of em forget with its powers until all of us are dead."

The boar then begins trotting towards West.

"Alright," Dagda sighed out as he tied the now-forgotten Solid's scrapped Silver Eagles robe around his belt, "next stop, Geatland."

But as they trotted away, a hand bursts out of the green earth, covered in rust as ivy and moss slither and sprout from the cold steel of old.

Magia Academia, Libratium, Spade Kingdom, Afternoon

It was another day of classes for the peculiar Fana and her elven counterpart. Both were going about their ways, checking themselves with Luciel regarding their [Curse of Apocrypha], no dead versions of themselves were seen by either of them, and so far, everything seemed to be working out normally.

... A few close calls with loose Chimeras notwithstanding, that is.

"I know that the healthcare here is really good and all, being that I saw one of my own classmates get his head bitten off and come back fine after a visit to the nurse's office," groaned Fana as she walked around the campus ground, "but god, is it too much to ask the Chimera Research & Bestiary Department to not create genetic abominations against nature at every waking hour?!"

To think that I would see a gorilla with a lion's head and wings of a bat in my entire life, Elf!Fana remarked, or see a baboon with a head, neck and body of a giraffe.

"Have you ever seen those animals outside of a book?" asked Fana, to which it was replied with silence, "... me too. Until today. Kinda wish I could see them... unmelded together."

Suddenly, the two then see a bulletin board gathering a large crowd of students from all grades. Fana then walks through the crowd and sees what's garnering so much attention.

"... Workshops for Eight Ancient Schools of Magic," she read, "all grades may apply to enrich their magical curriculum through the free study of the eight branches of ancient and primordial magic? All applicants are welcome to apply during the Summer Solstice?"

"Pretty much what it says on the tin," a voice spoke out behind Fana, revealing himself to be Dune, albeit with bags under his eyes and a haggard smile, "... wanna talk elsewhere? I think two nights of working late is starting to get to me."

The two then promptly move to the nurse's office, where Dune himself got treated for his exhaustion and fatigue with passion-flower tea and some brain chemical-balancing pills (nurses showed that he's a little off).

"Anywho, now we can talk..." Dune sighed out as he sipped his floral tea.

"Just don't push yourself too hard..." Wadjet the flaming snake tattoo Demon spoke while slithering on his cheek, "... if that spider-bitch hasn't pushed all of her excess work onto you, then I wouldn't have to worry!"

"It's fine, really," Dune reassured his Demon, "at least I turned in my papers about the Ten Tyrants turned in, and well, I managed to secure funding for the D&HSD! Spending a few extra hours to gloat at the Meteorology Department was worth it."

As both of the Fanas stared at the Contractor-Demon pair, the latter two do an about-face before getting back on track of what they were about to say.

"Ah right, the Eight Ancient Schools of Magic," spoke Dune, "let me cut to the chase; the Eight Ancient Schools of Magic were thought of as the original building blocks of all rudimentary spellcasting up to the modern day. It was when those eight schools were established that written spells were first put to the pen, so to speak."

"When you have penned as many spells in various workshops like we have, even forgotten spells are a trivial matter!" boasted Wadjet.

"Right..." Fana looked to the side, still reeling that she was forced to rewrite her entire grimoire's worth of spells from scratch after they were left as blank pages on that fateful night, "... don't remind me."

"Anyway, the eight schools," Dune began to explain, "first is Abjuration, the art of warding and protection."

"Countercurses, dispels, wards, defensive magic, if you're worried out feeling pain of Chimeras or any scary Wilderbeasts eating you alive, then this school of magic will help you focus on developing defensive spells!" chimed in the flame serpent Demon.

Hm, never thought that I can branch out [Fire Magic] to become more defensive, Elf!Fana thought, sounds practical.

"Most of the people that take that workshop are beginners or kids worried about their own safety after getting killed and brought back to life by a Chimera attack," Dune pointed out, "you ain't gonna be losing anything when you take that course, so give it a shot!"

"Next workshop covers Illusion, the art of deception and trickery!" Wadjet explained.

"You like setting traps? Playing practical jokes with your friends? Or making your worst of enemies look like the biggest of idiots?" advertised Dune, "well good news! This workshop helps any aspiring mage to learn [Trap Magic] into their attributes, and well, I took a few courses myself, and applied the principal of [Trap Magic] to create [Geb Replica]."

"So you're saying..." the gears inside Fana's head began turning, "... that I can make my flames into mines or make them invisible on chairs to rump-roast them?"

"... Pretty much," answered the Demonologist, "the whole workshop is pretty hands-off when it comes to actually teaching you anything, even by Libratium's standards, but that class encourages extreme creativity," he pointed out, "not recommended for beginners, but oddly popular with the younger demographic."

Yikes, Elf!Fana gasped, ... check where we sit after tomorrow, kay?

"Mm hm," Fana absentmindedly nodded before snapping herself back to reality, "... what's next?"

"Next up is Enchantment, the art of action and properties," Dune explained, "wanna make things do things outside of your attribute? Water exploding and/or boiling and wind cut and/or push away?"

"Enchantment is... weird, even for Libratium standards," Wadjet remarked, "for one, about 90% of the applicants to that workshop are either future CR&BD applicants, or they're just interested in making things... explode. Mostly for the hell of it."

"Point is, most of the people coming into that workshop are bored of their own magic and just want to deviate by... a lot," said Dune, "I remember one time when the captain of the White Lily Chevaliers came in there one day, and then the day after, her enchanted [Temperature Magic] basically gave her two opposing attributes akin to [Fire Magic] and [Ice Magic] that can be used in tandem without any drawbacks!"

Both Fanas contemplate in silence upon the thought of expanding their [Fire Magic] to cause explosions or god forbid, turn hot enough to be indistinguishable from Licht's [Light Magic] (they both shared the same memories of each other; it's just that Elf!Fana preferred to focus on the human's prior to their reconciliation).

"... Moving away from that basket case," sighed Wadjet, "the next workshop is Divination! The art of knowledge and investigations!"

"Sometimes, magic is used to seek out for the ultimate truth of the physical world," Dune explained, "wanna be able to tell the future through fire? Predict the weather through water and wind? Know how many people are coming to your house for dinner by feeling the earth with your bare feet?"

"Out of all the eight schools, Divination asks for your utmost of patience," the Demon pointed out as she was fed a cookie from the nurse, "results are slow to achieve and focus needs to be honed to the finest point humanly possible in order to well... get anything out of it."

"Pass," both Fanas spoke in unison.

"Then comes probably the most popular workshop out of the eight, to the point where I heard that they're setting applicant limits just because the course instructor can't afford to expand their physical workshop any futher without compromising everyone else's..." sighed Dune, "... the Evocation course, the art of wrecking shit and chantless casting."

"Wanna make your spells do more overall damage and cast without having to say the words from either grimoire or Relic?" advertised Wadjet, "want your spells to travel faster than your opponent can see or react?"

Dune sees Fana adopt a half-blank stare, half-withheld childlike excitement. "... Yeah, don't get your hopes up," warned the Demonologist, "last year, I tried to apply, me and about... 40, 50 others got run over in the stampede of stronger, bigger applicants and had our entire skeletons replaced."

... I don't wanna get stepped on, Elf!Fana pointed out, or live with the fact that we had to get our skeleton replaced.

Fana nods with nervous gulp. "... Anything else... less... competitive?" she asked sheepishly before she was handed her own cup of tea by the staff, "oh, thank you."

"Ah right, next one's pretty chill," Dune reassured, "the workshop of Transmutation, where you can learn the art of changing stuff into other stuff."

"Make fire solid, make wind into water, turn trees into semi-sentient Trents to either do your chores or act as security, this workshop teaches you how to think outside the box and making your attribute do what it normally can't do," Wadjet explained, "the class is very eco-friendly and I heard that their the class tends to go out and do the most fieldwork. Those guys surprisingly kick ass and they even saved the both of us a few times over."

"... Why does that sound... familiar?" Fana asked herself, being reminded of a certain nudist.

Oh right, Elf!Fana remarked, Sirona's thesis on "energy transference", using [Ice Magic] to set itself on fire or put fires out by draining its temperature!

"Why does that sound a lot like the Enchantment workshop?" asked Fana with the connection in mind.

"Trust me, I'm not the only asking that," Dune replied, "also, word of advice, don't speak about that little discrepancy in front of the Enchantment workshop applicants or the CR&BD. If you do, you better hope your legs are fast enough to run the fuck away, that is, unless you like having pig tits stitched onto you."

"... Personal experience?" asked Fana, to which Dune reveals several circular scars dotted around his nipples, "... sorry for asking. Can have another cup of tea?"

The two then drink their passion flower tea and take an extra brain chemical-balancing pills just not to freak out at the traumatic image burned into their heads.

"... Moving on, the next workshop covers Necromancy, aka, my wheelhouse," Dune presented, "the art of making shit stick around/curses and breaching the metaspiritual boundaries between life and death."

"... We don't get a lot of new applicants and our assigned instructor is the kind of instructor that tends to leave us... dry," Wadjet looked to the side in annoyance, "... you wanna learn how to make your spells last longer post-casting and be able to become a safe and legal Contractor? Contact us today!"

... I now wanna join their department, Elf!Fana groaned, ... out of pity.

"And finally, that depressing shit aside..." sighed Dune, "there's the Conjuration workshop, teaching you the art of creation and crafting."

"You want your [Creation Magic] to have some weight? Make swords out of elements that isn't a one-and-done imitations and can be more akin to RRR-rarity Relics? Well come on in!" Wadjet remarked, "that workshop is full of aspiring artists who want their magic not only to look better, but perform better!"

"She's right," Dune acknowledged, "my [Judgement Anubis] spell at first couldn't even cut through bread due to well, being made of loose volcanic ash," he shared his past, "but upon learning to harden said ash and well, sharpening it, now my hot blade can cut through scales of a [Wyvern] like hot knife through butter!" he exclaimed joyfully, even going far as to instinctively brandish said sickle-sword, "... you know, I been thinking of upgrading it from a khopesh to a more... traditional two-handed scythe. After almost getting creamed by that Inquisitor Bizon too many times over, I might need something with a bit more reach."

"... So you're saying that any attribute can be turned into a weapon akin to a high-grade Relic?" Fana remarked as she looked at her gold-grade grimoire from the Diamond Kingdom, the third-highest in its established hierarchy, now having images of turning her [Laevatain] into a better version of itself (said spell being safely recovered about a few days ago with Akane's help along with most of her rudimentary spells), "... wow, I... I'm starting to get the appeal of these workshops."

"I know, right?" Dune smiled as he put his [Judgement Anubis] away, "magic can be more than what it can initially offer! The spellcasters of the old had the right idea! Magic is infinite and above all else, freedom!"

"Freedom to explore, freedom to create, and the freedom to express oneself!" Wadjet chimed in, "with a proper guiding hand and the right amount of dedication, you magic can grow and be nurtured as it were your own child! Like how me and Dune raised our little [Brimstone Magic] together with its little sibling [Density Magic]!"

... Creepy analogy aside, I think I get the appeal as well, Elf!Fana pointed out, say human me, which workshop do you plan to visit?

"... Honestly, with all of these options before me," she nervously laughed, "I dunno."

"Well, they don't open until tomorrow," Dune reassured, "so take your time choosing. No one's forcing you. Hell, try the Enchantment workshop for all I care. I can't stop you from learning new things."

"Just be sure to not to bring up the Transmutation workshop during discussion," warned the flame-serpent Demon, "pig tits on a lass like you is beyond horrid."

"No need to tell us that twice!" Fana growled as she sipped her floral tea, "so anyway, are you coming home for dinner tonight or today another overtime?"

"Nah, I'm allowed to leave on time today," Dune smirked, "Nacht's taking over for me. He's got more than one pair of hands."

"Well not my fault that I have no hands compared to those rapscallions that hang out with that emo-twat," pouted Wadjet with a hint of jealousy.

"Awesome!" Fana huffed with starry eyes, "let's walk back home together with everyone else!"

"Nah, go right ahead," Dune insisted, "I still got classes, remember? Also, I said I only turned in my thesis paper. I didn't say anything about me already presenting it."

"Ah," she corrected herself, "... fair enough. Good luck with your presentation."

"Hopefully, my work gets published after my presentation," Dune waved Fana goodbye, "... speaking of which, nurse! I need another cup of tea!"

"Don't treat this office as if it were a barista, you jackass!" one of the staff cried out as she slammed down another cup.

As the day wound down, everyone's school schedules eventually came to a close, with Fana meeting up with Violet, Peony and Daisy as she herself walked back to their dormitory. The four then later ran into Mariella conversing with Akane and Mari, the group then growing to a company of seven before running into Klein at the cafe picking up macarons for everyone.

"So, girls and one boy," Fana spoke, "what workshops are you guys thinking of joining?"

"Hm, I think Divination for me," Violet remarked, "my silver-grade [Earth Magic] would allow me to look for my sister in case we get separated, but Abjuration would work just fine as well," she then flexed her arm in confidence, "gotta learn to protect my family like dad did."

"I wanna try Illusion!" giggled Daisy, "my [Wind Magic] might make farting noises!"

"For me... I dunno," Peony twiddled her fingers, "I wanted to try Evocation-"

"NO," Fana warned, "ABSOLUTELY NOT."

"Why?!" she whined, "is it because I'm a kid?!"

"No, it's because you're a kid," Fana pointed out, "even if the healthcare can bring you back from the dead, your mom and dad will probably... eh, kill us for that."

Peony pouts while Mariella attempts to comfort the child. "I'm interested in Necromancy myself," Mariella remarked, "I've always been associated with the darker, more sordid parts of society, so perhaps my predisposition would be put into a beneficial use for all and not just for some despot calling himself king."

Akane smirks at Mariella.

"... What?" she remarked, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"You just wanna get close to Dune, aren't ya?" the Hanafundan Chevalier teased the icy girl, "I ain't judging, Dune's kinda got that dorky, nerdy-kind of cute appeal to him."

"It's not like that, I swear!" she vehemently denied, "it's just that... oh forget it!" she then runs off ahead, failing to hiding her embarrassment."

"Ane-sama, I think she's not used to feeling feelings," Mari pointed out, "... also, it just sort of Dune looks a bit like a younger version of her legal guardian Fanzell, so there might be something going on there."

"Now now, let's not start any rumors," Fana nervously defused the conversation from boiling over, "hey Klein," she then immediately changed the conversation elsewhere, "which workshop are you applying for?"

"Oh, I'm not interested," the boy replied, "all I need is my dad and the Terra Cotta Dormitory! I wanna grow up and give people without a home a place to stay in!"

Hgggn, Elf!Fana clenched her incorporeal chest, ... why is a human being... so... pure... gonna die... from pure... purity...

Aren't you already dead, in a manner of speaking? Human!Fana pointed out.

Schematics!

The seven then all arrive at the dormitory, greeted by both Smurf's tiny clay body waddling towards them before giving each of them a hug around their ankles followed up by Fana's [Salamander] (now physically manifested 24/7, acting more akin to a house pet after the both Fanas finally found peace with each other) greeting them with a small nod before it lazed back asleep on its fireproof cushion.

"Hey dad!" the boy greeted his father, the latter looking more attentive and aware despite his non-blinking expression, "we're home!"

"Oh right, welcome back," Krieger warmly greeted, "dinner's almost ready, so go wash up."

The girls (and one boy) all finish washing up for the evening, by which then everyone else comes back to the dormitory by the early evening, with Dune coming in last in an euphoric glee and loud cheer that was heard through the walls of the residence.

"GUESS WHO GOT HIS WORK OFFICIALLY PUBLISHED?!" Dune cried out in absolute jubilance, "NOW THE D&HSD WILL BE SWIMMING IN FUNDING!"

"Good for you," deadpanned Krieger, "please quiet down, you're disturbing the neighbors."

"Sorry."

Dinner happens, tonight's course being herb and turkey soup with garlic bread. "Turkey again?" Fanzell remarked, "I mean, never had em before in the Diamond Kingdom, but come on! At least put another meat in there or something!"

"There was an outbreak of part-Turkey Chimeras that occurred last year," Krieger pointed out, "due to how many there were, it's still the cheapest meat on the market. That and well, being a Chimera, it's not 100% turkey, so technically, I'm not feeding you all the same kind of meat every day, in a manner of speaking."

"... Sorry if I asked, kinda had a bad day," the [Wind Magic] user bowed his head in embarrassment, "I got rejected from another job, again."

"How?" asked Dominante.

"I was apparently picked to be a Dragoon test pilot to see if the mechs features are stable," he explained, "despite said mech not having an eject feature, I somehow got launched out of the cockpit while the Dragoon wasn't even active, butt-naked and a sexual harassment lawsuit prior to my termination."

No one in their minds even question how was that even physically possible. In fact, unless Fanzell was made of butter, none of this absurdity could be feasibly explained through the physical world's logic.

After dinner, everyone then gradually heads to bed due to the slow-acting tranquilizers that Krieger spikes their meals with on a daily basis to converse with Loki, who was currently posing as Lotus, the real one being at the bottom of the ocean, in pieces.

"So nothing as of yet?" Krieger spoke with "Lotus", "the Inquisitors? No one?"

"Positive," "Lotus" grinned, the corner of his curled lip distorting momentarily to a black crescent before going back to "normal", "keep this up, and we'll be able to keep up this ruse for a bit longer until the whole family is replaced with fakes."

"When is that bitch Iris going to die?" Krieger snarled.

"See, there lies the issue," "Lotus" explained, "Iris is a creature of habit, but she's an alert and through creature of habit," he pointed out, "she's smart enough to not be alone in public, she's already making friends at the marketplaces and even went far as to join this district's PTA as a representative candidate, so she's kind of a big deal to off!"

"She's asleep now, so waste her now!" Krieger pointed out, only for them to hear something shatter on the ground behind them, revealing Dune with a dropped mug of water behind them, "... Dune?"

"Uh... hi?" he sheepishly greeted.

"Lotus" then approaches him with suspicion. "How much did you hear?"

But before he can answer of Wadjet to protect her host, a dagger held by an arm coming out of "Lotus" was found buried inside the Demonolgist's chest.

"It was a rhetorical question, dumdum," taunted Loki as he threw over a burlap sack over both him and Wadjet, both paralyzed by the venom coating the dagger that they were stabbed with, "get the mop! I'll head to the ocean!"

"How did all this happen?!" Krieger exclaimed as he went inside the broom closet, "I'm pretty sure that I spiked his portion as well!"

It then hit Loki. "... Krieger, how much did you put into tonight's dinner? the Demon asked, "you being an insomniac that not even sleeping pills do anything for you and me being a Demon notwithstanding."

"... Aw crapbaskets," the last Earth Temple acolyte groaned, "... I put in a dose for 11 people. Dune's has been taking overtime shifts so many times that it slipped my mind! I-I assumed that tonight he'll be at overtime and sleeping over at his department!"

"Just get rid of all the evidence!" Loki barked back as he and his accomplice got to work hiding clues of Dune's involvement, with Krieger mopping the blood off the floor and sweeping up the shards of the shattered mug while Loki was in charge of throwing his body elsewhere.

As Loki carted the stabbed body all the way to the seaside cliff, he takes a peek at the body only to see it not turned into stone, but still immobile. Worst yet, he forgot to pack [Cockatrice] venom, mainly because he, like Krieger, assumed that Dune would be sleeping over at his workplace again.

"Aw well," shrugged the Demon as he threw the body inside the sack into the ocean below, "... gonna have to come up with an excuse later... after I make his copy, which unlike Lotus' and that other clone... I barely knew him. Aw well, at least I have his room to dig through."

As soon as the Demon left the cliffside completely, a hooded figure came out hiding from the bushes and peers down the cliffside where the sacked body fell before jumping into the torrent itself.

The night goes by without anyone outside the ring of suspicion noticing anything happening.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: And let the long-ass arc of the Book 1's production call-back begin.

This Saga... how should I put it, I think it's gonna be one of the bigger ones I had in mind, due to how much I've planned for it. Maybe four or five parts depending on how my schedule works or anything of sort? Maybe. The point is, this Saga is just the beginning of what's to come, and there's going to be two major arcs that'll come together at the same point in its climax.

The first arc being Ulster's Thing at Geatland and the overarching threat of the Green Knight. Dagda was conceptually busted since his introduction, so to his immovable object, I hereby introduce the unstoppable force (he's still moving, albeit in a limp), the Green Knight. Unlike Ulster's local wildlife, the Green Knight is neither human or animal in behavior. If one has to connect it's view to something, it would be akin to nature itself; indiscriminate, obtrusive, and cannot die out completely. The Green Knight in Arthurian lore is implied to be a forgotten pagan god of nature pre-Christianity, and his presence is supposed to act as a cultural call-back before England's Anglicization, against the Knight of Round representing post-Angliclization. Simply put, the Green Knight represents nature itself, specifically, the more invasive and hostile side of overgrowth, as symbolically represented by its mushroom cloud-sized tree that it sprouted after wasting Solid for his arrogance; too big for the world that it was born in, so rendered obsolete by the very thing that it was supposed to represent, kinda like the Green Knight's narrative purpose in Arthurian lore. He will be explored as he will come back to menace everyone at Ulster around the later date.

The next arc, being about Loki and Kriger's little conspiracy being closed in by outside forces. Even the best laid plans tend to fall apart after one mistake, and Dune not being petrified like Lotus due to a mismatch of the dosage of the slow-acting tranquilizers, expect them to fumble their out of their little mess. After all, one moment of panic is like a eye in a needle; no matter how small the hole is, it can still be peered through, and what the cloaked man saw was more than enough. Until then, enjoy whatever bits of slice of life throughout the arc before it all comes crashing down upon the poor children and family-friends.

References:

- The Arc name is named after the Judas Priest song with the same name.

- "The Thing" is indeed when Viking and Germanic tribes all gathered together into an assembly and discussed important political matters and acted as a tribal parliament. A gross oversimplification on my part, but it's just a little detail I added that even a place wild as Ulster has some semblance of order.

- The three major tribes of Ulster (Offsprings, Twisted Sister Coven and The Animals) are named after rock bands with the same names.

- The Green Knight is a composite character of the Green Knight from Wizards (2020), Alterasia Type-H from Elsword, and the Traveler enemy from God of War PS4. It's ability to make the survivors forget it's and the victim's existence is a reference to Fate/Apocrypha's Assassin of Black (Jack the Ripper)'s [Information Erasure - A] skill, just to highlight how antithetical the Green Knight is to the rest of Ulster's biosphere ala him being a "humanoid abomination" (looks and acts human, is anything but close to it).

- Nebra's reaction to Solid's death is a mix of Sansa's reaction to Ser Hugh's death at the hands of Ser Gregor in Game of Thrones Season 1 Episode 4, "Cripples, Bastards and Broken Things" and TvTropes' Squid Game Nightmare Fuel page image from the series' Episode 1, "Red Light, Green Light".

- Fana's implied Chimera encounters are a reference to Holdem and Hamlet from Kaido's Animal Kingdom Pirates from One Piece.

- Dune's tea is the same kind of passion-flower tea (full of alkaloids that; good for hysteria and neurosis) that Maki Shijo drank when she found out that Nagisa and Tsubasa/Nagisa's boyfriend had "sek" in Kaguya-Sama: Love is War. But unlike her period of neurosis rooted in envy and heartbreak, Dune's stress levels tend to be from him overworking.

- The eight courses for the the Workshops are directly based off Dungeons and Dragon's Eight Schools of Magic.

And as usual, please leave a comment or a review, for I'd love to know what my readers think!