Chapter 85: Save Finral!
"Don't think you can oppose the Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn, you Black Bull flunkies," Langris muttered, his eyes slightly shifting to the side, but his expression and stance not changing, "just because you've been on a roll lately."
"Status doesn't matter when we're protecting our precious friend!" Asta replied, his voice rising to a shout.
"Precious friend? What bullshit," Langris snarled back.
"That's enough."
Julius, flanked by Marx, Dr Owen, Cob and a capital mage, holding a Chrono Stasis in his palm as he approached. All heads turned towards him as he approached, his benevolent expression carrying a subtle hint of sternness.
"Those who go easy on their companions in a fight can't be trusted," he started, "but those who try to kill them have problems that run much deeper than trust."
Langris scowled but said nothing. Dr Owen, meanwhile, rushed to Finral's side.
"He's in bad shape. Leave him to me," the good doctor stated, his eyes darting across Finral's body. "Water Recovery Magic: Qualle Operation."
A/N: good doctor reference hahaha
"Companion? That fool," Langris started, his smirk returning to his face, "brings shame to both the house of Vaude and the Magic Knights."
"Say one more thing," Ximena snarled, "one more fucking thing."
"Let's kill him after all," Luck said, a deranged smirk filling his face.
"Finral's nicer than anybody!" Asta declared furiously. "That's what makes him a true Magic Knight!"
Frida, who had been watching this whole ideal sat like a queen on a Hand of Caesar, furrowed her brow. Langris, obviously, did not share this same sentiment.
"No matter how tough you are," Asta yelled, "you're no Magic Knight!"
"What drivel is this?" Langrs intoned, his voice taking on a much more dangerous edge. Then he laughed, a chilling sound that was robbed of the illusion of any warmth by his eyes. "I guess making it this far has gone to your head. You sure talk big for a Black Bulls newbie. And you," he said, turning to Kian, "have you forgotten that not that long ago, you alongside your useless mother served the house of Vaude? Know your place, commoner."
"5 years is plenty of time for me to have gotten stronger than you," Kian replied. "And didn't your mother teach you not to speak ill of the dead?"
"Does it count if they were servants?" Langris smirked, Kian's hands trembling as he poured every inch of willpower he had into not skewering him.
"Wizard King, before the next teams play their match, would you let me battle them?" Langris asked, forcing himself to maintain composure.
"Absolutely not!"
"Unforgivable!"
Two simultaneous shouts echoed throughout the whole battlefield. It was Lars and Frida, both very agitated.
"I'm already waiting through another match just so I can finally beat my sibling!" they roared in unison. "Hurry up and get off the damn field!"
But Langris wasn't listening. Something inside the white void of his brain snapped, and he raised his hand.
"Forget this. Let's start now," his voice deadly calm. A large spatial sphere suddenly appeared in the sky, and Langris brought his hand down, sending it hurtling at Asta. "Let the semi finals begin!"
Ximena moved, but Kian, who's hand was shaking with barely masked fury, stopped Ximena from doing anything. "He'll be able to block it."
Sure enough, Asta swung the Demon-Slayer Sword, completely dissipating the large ball of spatial energy.
"You were with him before, weren't you?" Langris muttered, his voice slowly rising to a shout. "I disliked you from the first time we met, a member of the worst possible Magic Knight squad… Asta of the Black Bulls!"
"That's my line," Asta yelled, "Langris Vaude, Vice-Captain of the Golden Dawn!"
Up on the spectator box, Klaus and Yuno watched with worried and stoic expressions, their eyes darting from Langris to Asta.
"The Vice Captain can be belligerent, but I've never known him to be like this…" Klaus uttered worriedly.
"Yeah, something's seriously wrong," Yuno replied.
"You fools…"
It was Florian, who walked up to his two juniors, his eyes totally fixed on Langris.
"What you're seeing is that mentally unstable bastard's true hateful nature finally coming to light," Florian declared. "Even while I worked as his junior, I could see it every day, in everything he did."
Yuno and Klaus said nothing more as Florian stood beside them, watching the exchange down below.
Langris and Asta rushed at each other, ready to make a move that could end someone's life at the slightest turn, but then they froze.
"Time Magic: Chrono Stasis," Julius intoned, trapping the two in identical balls of time magic. "You two can hear me, yes?"
Langris and Asta showed no sign of response, but Julius carried on. "Although I'd like for you to fight as if this were real combat, this is still a match. Sit tight for a long second, until match preparations are completed."
Lars, from where he was surrounded by the Coral Peacocks, punched the ground in frustration, but said nothing more.
Cob went to go get the members of Team B and G, and a moment later, he arrived, pushing them all out from a spatial portal. Everyone (except Sekke) landed in style, as Lucia frowned, crossing her arms.
"Another match so soon," she mumbled, as Mimosa looked at Asta with a worried expression.
"What's going on?" Fragil asked the Wizard King, who looked at her kindly.
"The semi final round between B Team and G Team. We've already set up your crystals in their starting positions," Julius declared.
"The semi-finals already?" Elijah exclaimed. Julius continued.
"Let me remind you that this is just a match. No killing is allowed. Destroying the crystal is your main objective," he said. He raised his hands, and suddenly, all eight of them were at the crystals.
"Mimosa, Xerx, Lucia, I'm sorry about this," Asta said. "I didn't mean for this to happen, but I want to defeat him! Please, help me!"
"Of course!" Mimosa exclaimed. Inwardly, her thoughts were spiraling. There's something wrong with Langris…
Lucia smirked. "In that case, I'll help you the best way I can. Card Magic: Tarot Deck!"
She drew The Chariot, placing it on Asta's back, and Asta could feel the increased physical power rushing through him.
Xerx, however, began to laugh.
"What is it?" Lucia asked.
"Magic Knights clashing over personal stuff and doing whatever the hell they want… Are you all stupid?!" he exclaimed. "But fine, whatever. For now, he's much worse than you. Let's do this, ya little shit!"
On Team G's side, Langris stood away from his team members.
"Langris? What's going on?" Fragil asked.
"Kindly explain, ba-ha," Sekke added.
"Shut your mouths."
All three started as they felt Langris's malevolent mana outpouring towards them.
"All of you are absolutely worthless. I'll show you all that I'm special!" he declared, his hand twitching.
"I'll never understand guys like you," Elijah muttered, his magic igniting at his fingertips.
…
Langris's mana swirled around him like a storm, oppressive and suffocating, as his spatial distortions hovered ominously in the air. His smirk widened as Team B scrambled to move their crystal forward. The battlefield stretched before him, a canvas for his destructive power, and he intended to paint it red with his superiority.
"You really think you can keep up with me?" Langris sneered, his voice echoing across the arena. "A clumsy brute with an oversized sword, a second-rate healer, a card-trick amateur, and… whatever that is." His eyes flicked dismissively to Xerx, who lazily scratched his head.
Asta planted his feet, holding his Demon-Slayer Sword aloft. The weight of the blade was nothing compared to the burden of protecting his friends and proving Langris wrong. His brow furrowed with determination as he glared at the Golden Dawn's Vice-Captain. "We don't have to keep up with you! We're going to surpass you!"
Langris's smirk faltered for a moment, but it returned quickly, darker than before. He flicked his wrist, and three more spatial orbs formed in an instant, each one pulsing with deadly precision. Without warning, they launched forward, their paths erratic yet calculated, aimed directly at the team's crystal.
"Not on my watch!" Asta roared, charging forward. His blade swung in wide, deliberate arcs, cutting through the orbs one by one. The anti-magic field nullified Langris's attacks effortlessly, but the sheer number of spells was wearing him down. Sweat dripped from Asta's brow as he struggled to keep pace with Langris's relentless assault.
"More." Langris raised his hand again, conjuring a hailstorm of spatial distortions. They rained down like a torrent, forcing Asta to work even harder to protect the crystal. "Let's see how long you can last, peasant."
Asta's muscles burned with exertion, but his resolve never wavered. He gritted his teeth, swinging his sword with everything he had, his movements becoming faster, more precise. Each spell he deflected only fueled his determination. "You can throw as many of those as you want! I'm not letting you touch this crystal!"
Mimosa, positioned behind the crystal, watched the exchange with growing concern. Her hands glowed softly as she poured her mana into a protective cocoon around the crystal, repairing the damage from Langris's earlier attacks. "Asta, be careful! If one of those hits you directly—"
"I'll be fine, Mimosa!" Asta called back, his voice filled with unshakable confidence. "You just keep the crystal safe!"
Langris's eyes narrowed. "Fine? We'll see about that."
A distortion materialized directly behind Asta, too close for him to react. It detonated with a sharp crack, sending him tumbling forward. He landed hard, skidding across the ground as blood dripped from a fresh wound on his side. Mimosa gasped, rushing to his side.
"Asta! Hold still—I can heal you!" she exclaimed, her hands glowing brighter as she channeled her magic into his injury.
Langris chuckled darkly, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. "How long do you think she can keep patching you up? Her mana will run out before I'm even warmed up. It's only a matter of time."
"You're wrong!" Asta shouted, wincing as the healing magic stitched his wound closed. "We'll keep going no matter what! That's what makes us Magic Knights!"
Langris scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "Magic Knights? You're no better than Finral—a weakling who hides behind others because he can't stand on his own. He's a disgrace to the Vaude name."
"Don't you dare talk about Finral like that!" Asta's voice boomed, his grip on the Demon-Slayer Sword tightening. "Finral's nothing like you! He's kind, he's brave, and he never gives up on his friends! That's what makes him a real Magic Knight!"
"Kindness and bravery mean nothing if you can't win," Langris snapped. "Finral is weak. That's all there is to it. The strong crush the weak, and the winners prove they're in the right. That's the only truth that matters."
Asta's eyes burned with fury as he forced himself to his feet. His voice was steady, unwavering. "If that's what you believe, then you've already lost. Because no matter how strong you think you are, you'll never understand what makes someone truly great. And I'll prove it—because Finral believed in me!"
Langris's sneer deepened, his mana flaring dangerously. "Bold words for someone who can barely stand. Let's see how long that conviction lasts."
Before Langris could unleash another attack, Lucia stepped forward, her deck of cards spinning in the air around her. Her expression was calm but focused, a sharp contrast to the chaos unfolding around her. "I've had enough of your arrogance."
A glowing card shot forward, aimed directly at Langris. He erased it with a flick of his wrist, his disdainful smirk returning. "A cheap parlor trick. You're out of your depth."
Lucia's eyes narrowed. "Is that so? Let's see how you handle this."
A new card, Judgement, materialized above her, radiating an ominous energy. It hovered briefly before slamming into Langris in the blink of an eye, the impact driving him back several steps. He grimaced, the spell's damage scaling with his malevolence, and for the first time, his composure faltered.
"What…?" Langris growled, his voice laced with pain and confusion.
Lucia smirked, shuffling her deck with a flourish. "Judgement scales based on your intentions. Looks like all that hatred and superiority isn't doing you any favors."
Langris snarled, his mana surging as he prepared to retaliate, but Lucia was already drawing another card. "Please, have another one!"
…
Mimosa's hands trembled as she pushed her magic to its limits, the glow from her grimoire illuminating the battlefield. She bit her lip, pouring every ounce of mana she could muster into Asta's battered body. "Asta, I'm doing everything I can, but… your body—your injuries—they're too much. Even if I keep healing you, I don't think I can buy you enough time."
Asta grunted, his voice strained but defiant. "Don't worry about me, Mimosa. I'm not going down that easily!" He forced himself to his feet, clutching the Demon-Slayer Sword for support. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but his resolve burned brighter than ever. "My Black Form... It's coming. I just need a little more time!"
Across the battlefield, Langris stood tall, his face twisted with disdain as he watched Asta struggle. His spatial orbs spun lazily around him, glowing with ominous power. "Pathetic," Langris sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do you honestly believe you can overcome me with sheer stubbornness? A peasant like you doesn't even deserve to dream of such things."
Asta glared at him, teeth gritted, but said nothing. Instead, his mind raced. I need a plan. My Black Form will take too long. There's only one person here who can create an opening... His gaze darted toward the rogue who had joined their team.
"Xerx!" Asta shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. "We need you! Now!"
Xerx, lounging on a nearby rock, raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Finally remembered I'm here, huh?" He stretched lazily as if the chaos surrounding them were nothing more than an annoying inconvenience. "Guess it's time to earn my keep."
With a casual flick of his hand, Xerx activated a trap he had set earlier. A crimson magic circle flared to life beneath his feet, its intricate runes glowing menacingly. "Let's see how that pretty-boy noble handles a little dose of real Magic Knight tactics."
Langris turned his attention to Xerx, his sneer deepening. "A lowlife like you thinks you can stop me with your cheap tricks? You're out of your depth."
Xerx chuckled, his smirk widening. "Cheap tricks? Maybe. But the thing about traps is, you don't see them coming until it's too late."
As Langris unleashed another volley of spatial distortions, they collided with Xerx's magic circle, creating a shimmering barrier that absorbed the deadly magic. The spatial orbs crackled violently but failed to penetrate the defense. Langris's eyes narrowed in frustration.
"This won't stop me for long," Langris hissed. His mana flared as he prepared another attack. "You're just delaying the inevitable."
Xerx's grin faltered for a moment as his thoughts wandered. He remembered his father, Zara, the first peasant Magic Knight—a man who had believed in fairness, equality, and the true purpose of their order. Zara's dream had ended in betrayal, cut down by his own comrades who couldn't accept someone of his station as their equal. The memory of his father's death burned in Xerx's mind, fueling his anger.
"You think you're some kind of superior being, don't you?" Xerx's voice was cold, his usual mockery replaced with something darker. "My dad was twice the knight you'll ever be. And he didn't need noble blood or flashy magic to prove it."
Langris's expression darkened, his pride wounded by the rogue's words. With a flick of his wrist, he redirected his spatial distortion, bypassing Xerx's barrier entirely. The deadly magic struck Xerx full-on, sending him flying across the battlefield in a burst of energy.
"Xerx!" Asta and Mimosa shouted in unison, their faces stricken with shock.
As Xerx tumbled across the ground, the battlefield seemed to pause. A faint glow began to emanate from his chest, and an intricate set of runes shimmered into existence on his body. The markings pulsed with mana, growing brighter and brighter.
Langris's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is this…?"
Xerx coughed, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, but his trademark grin returned. "You think I'd come to a fight like this without a backup plan? This isn't just a shield—it's a mirror."
The magic circle on Xerx's body flared to life, releasing Langris's spatial distortion back with devastating force. The redirected attack spiraled through the air, colliding with Lucia's Abundance card, which had been floating silently above the battlefield. The card absorbed the energy, its golden glow intensifying.
Lucia's eyes glinted with sharp focus as she stepped forward, raising her hand toward the card. "Perfect timing, Xerx- no, Zora," she said, her voice calm but filled with authority. "Let me finish this."
The Abundance card shimmered, golden mana swirling around it like a vortex. It pulsed once, then twice, before releasing a concentrated beam of light that tore through the battlefield. The radiance was blinding, cutting through the darkness like a blade of justice.
Yet, in the moment before impact, Langris smirked coldly, his mana flaring to life once more. With a sharp gesture, he conjured a secondary spatial spell, a distortion that spiralled outward to meet the beam. The two spells collided, creating a violent explosion of light and force that shook the ground beneath them. As the energy dissipated, Langris emerged unscathed, his expression as disdainful as ever.
"Is that all you've got?" Langris mocked, brushing dust from his shoulder. His piercing gaze locked onto Zora. "Pathetic. You peasants truly believe you can match someone as special as me? You're nothing but gnats buzzing around my head."
He raised his hand again, summoning another series of spatial orbs. They hovered menacingly, pulsating with raw power. "Unlike you, I can still grow stronger. I'm destined for greatness, unlike my spineless brother or a second-rate rogue like you." With that, he unleashed another volley of attacks, the spells hurtling toward Zora with deadly precision.
Before the spells could reach their target, a blur of black and red cut through the battlefield. Asta, now fully enveloped in his Black Form, appeared in the path of Langris's attack. With a fierce swing of his Demon-Dweller Sword, he deflected the spatial magic effortlessly. His Anti-Magic aura flared around him, a stark contrast to Langris's golden glow.
"Asta!" Mimosa exclaimed, her hands still glowing with healing magic as she tended to Zora.
Lucia, standing nearby, glanced at Zora and frowned. "You should let her heal you. We're teammates, after all."
Zora groaned, waving her off. "I don't need your charity."
Lucia sighed, clearly irritated. "Fine, suit yourself. But don't come crying to me when you keel over."
Mimosa ignored the exchange and continued her work. "We're not leaving anyone behind," she said firmly, her resolve unwavering. As she worked, Lucia's expression softened, and she smiled faintly.
"The boosts from The Chariot will wear off now," Lucia remarked. "But I don't think you'll need them anymore. I have faith you'll win this."
Meanwhile, Langris's eyes narrowed as he studied Asta's transformed state. "What is that form?" he demanded, his voice tinged with both curiosity and disdain.
Asta met Langris's gaze, his own eyes burning with determination. "It's nothing special," he said, gripping his sword tightly. "Just a last-ditch effort from a commoner like me."
Langris sneered, his arrogance undiminished. "Everyone here is a thorn in my side. You think you can stand on the same stage as me? I'm special. You're nothing."
Asta's expression didn't waver. "You're right," he said. "You are special. People like you... I've always admired your strength. But I don't want people like you to like me. The Magic Knights aren't about proving who's better than everyone else. They're about getting stronger to protect what matters."
"Shut up!" Langris roared, his mana surging violently as he fired another spell directly at Asta. "You're nothing!"
Asta grinned, his black aura intensifying. "Then I'll make sure you remember the power of a 'nothing'!" With a fierce cry, he charged forward, slashing through Langris's spell with ease. The force of his attack sent Langris reeling, and before he could recover, Asta surged past him in a blur of speed, his blade aimed directly at Team G's crystal.
Langris's eyes widened in shock as he felt his magic falter. "What... what's happening?" he muttered, his voice trembling. His spatial magic, once so overwhelming, refused to respond.
Asta didn't stop. He used Black Meteorite, his blade tearing through the air like a comet, and smashed into Team G's crystal with devastating force. The crystal shattered instantly, its fragments scattering across the battlefield in a dazzling display.
At the same time, a distant crash echoed through the arena. The damage to Team B's crystal, inflicted during the fierce battle, had finally reached its breaking point. It shattered into pieces, leaving both teams without a crystal.
The announcer's voice boomed across the arena. "Both teams' crystals have been destroyed! The match... is a tie!"
A stunned silence fell over the crowd. Zora, now standing with his arms crossed, broke it with a mocking laugh. "So much for the great Langris Vaude," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Lost to a bunch of commoners. Wonder if anyone will still call you vice-captain after this."
Langris glared at him, his fists clenched in rage.
Zora's attention shifted to the rest of the battlefield. "And you," he said, pointing at Asta. "You've got guts, kid, but don't think your blind faith in these so-called Knights will carry you forever. And Mimosa? Freezing up in the middle of a fight? That's not gonna cut it." He sighed, his tone softening slightly. "Not that I'm perfect either. Guess I rely on myself too much."
But Asta wasn't listening. A tie? So we didn't…win…Damn it…Damn it!
Asta stumbled, his body finally giving out, but before he could hit the ground, Magna was there to catch him. "Gotcha, buddy," Magna said with a grin, his voice filled with pride.
The crowd began to stir as other Magic Knights rushed to the battlefield. Among them, Luck, Leo, Kirsch, Kian, Klaus, Lars, Vivianne, Myla, Sol, and Rill surrounded Asta, their faces a mix of concern and admiration.
"Look at the kid go," Myla muttered. "He's an inspiration to us all."
"For sure," Lars replied, standing next to her. "He's never gonna stop going. I can't let myself fall behind, either. And to do that, I have a few walls I need to break down."
He looked at Frida as he said this, his sister deep in conversation with Mira. She simply scowled, snapping her gaze away from his.
A/N: I'm almost done writing the Frida vs Lars battle (I always like to write a few chapters ahead in case of writing block) and I can't wait to release it.
I'd once again like to thank you guys for supporting me and remind you to review (something I don't do that often)