Hedonistic Sorcerer Alliance for the Scum King
A Last Round Arthurs One Shot
By: Aviantei
^^^
lo0ol
You've been through this song and dance before, so you're honestly not fucking impressed.
Reincarnation is nothing new. You've been through more lives than you can count, though you don't always remember them right away. Sometimes you know who you were in your previous life, and that's all you get. Sometimes the memories are vague impressions, things that you don't recognize until way later, when the right trigger comes along. Sometimes you come into being as a fully sentient person who can recall almost every detail of your past lives from the moment your developing body in the womb can register it.
This round is one of those.
It's also one of the rounds where you're unnecessarily talented. Anything you've dabbled in during a previous life, your current brain and body can pull off no problem. Things you've never even thought about before? You can do them, too. Your parents are proud, your teachers are amazed, you're the world's next genius in a toddler's body.
You consider not pursuing any of these avenues. This isn't the first time you've had such an existence.
(You remember long days where time didn't matter, a darkness seeping into your heart. You remembering struggling to live, even when you could have done anything and everything.
You remember isolating yourself, intentionally showing off what you can do so others would push you away, abandon you like you wanted to abandon yourself.
You remember the warm wash of gold, the lovely shade of pink, how both of them found you and pulled you back into the light, accepted you for everything you were, even all the awful pieces that were so, so selfish.)
Someone like that just might find you again, if you're lucky. So what the hell's the point in not taking advantage of every blessing you've been given?
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You very quickly decide on three rules to serve as the cornerstone for this life:
Fuck holding back.
Fuck gender.
Fuck people who dislike you because of rules one and two.
You have patience for absolutely zero of these circumstances, and you're not going to put up with them. You can't control other people, but you sure can control how you react to them. That'll be good enough.
With all that settled, you easily make your place in the world. You take assessment tests and blast through the qualifications for elementary, middle, high school, and then several undergraduate and graduate degrees. You take brief stints in sports and photography, in whatever catches your damn fancy. You become something of a worldwide sensation, but your young physical age protects you from most of the hassle of interviews. Not that you give people the time of day for that shit. You have money to make, subjects to study, life to live. Anyone that wants to hound you can find themselves on the receiving end of a middle finger or a martial art of your choice, if you're feeling saucy.
After the first paparazzi member almost has a broken nose, the rest get the hint.
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lo0ol
It's in middle school that you find the magic, or maybe the magic finds you.
You did your homework the moment you had enough capability to do so. A world not too unlike what most people would consider "ordinary," a little bit further along in the future and with some advanced technology. Overall, things looking pretty normal, but you suppose a lot of places are like that—magic bubbling just under the surface, known to the select few and often granted to even fewer.
Just like everything else, once you know it's an option, you're good at it.
And from there things get clearer and clearer by pieces. The rest of the existing magical community. The Dame du Lac. The battle for the succession of a certain mythological hero. The book series on the library shelf, bearing the inauspicious title:
Last Round Arthur.
Part of you responds, one of your many chains of memories. Scum Arthur and Heretic Merlin. A boisterous blonde girl wielding a sword, aided by her fanservice designated knight. It's definitely not the first time you've played this game, either, the one where you reincarnate into a world that was nothing but fiction in another life. You could shrug it off, avoid canon, stay out of it. There have been times where you basically rewrote history, too.
But didn't this world also have reincarnation?
Yes, it did. Aside from the metaphysical questions about the whole multiple heirs to King Arthur, the Sirs were their preserved forms from the original Round Table—you think. The memories from some random book one of your past selves read who knows how many lifetimes ago tend to be fuzzy. At least until whatever weird blessing the universe slapped on you again kicks in, and then it comes to you.
Merlin. That was half of the premise, wasn't it? Reincarnated Merlin who's beyond bored with the world, who views his talent as more of a curse. Someone so cynical that you can't help but get a bitter taste in your mouth from the memories.
(It's been so, so long since you wallowed in that darkness.)
You consider not bothering with canon, try to decide it before your conscience catches up with you. You're too late; you've already remembered the so-called Heretic Merlin's name in this era: Magami Rintarou. Well, that is, assuming you're even in the right era. Given the universe's track record, you wouldn't be surprised if you were.
It wouldn't be hard to check.
Just check.
Yeah right, another part of your brain says, and it has the memories to back it up.
This round is one of those, indeed.
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lo0ol
As suspected, it's not hard to find him. At least, not for you. You have All The Resources, worldly and magical. Hell, just poking around a bit means that you have way more information than you could ever want on him. You save the address and toss the rest. You know enough based on what you remember from reading canon.
Just check.
What a pathetic fucking joke. It starts with you lounging around on your bed one night, watching some let's play, and the next thing you know you've teleported halfway across the damn globe on a whim. It was late back home, and here it's just barely past dawn. Still a weekend, though, which means the neighborhood is sleepy and quiet and Magami Rintarou is likely still asleep, enjoying his rest. Or, maybe not, if he's reached peak edgelord already. How old is he even; how many items on his laundry list of emotional traumas has he gone through so far?
If you talked to him, would he even care that you could offer him another path besides absolute boredom? If you're really going to get involved with this, you should at least figure out how far you are ahead of canon. At least a little bit, since the Dame du Lac haven't announced the King Arthur Succession Battle yet. You could be ruining a perfectly satisfied Magami Rintarou's life if you show up talking like you know everything.
You should go home, back to your cushy life and your let's plays.
You should let it fucking go, because you know the universe will ultimately drag canon onto your goddamn doorstep whether you like it or not, and you should cherish the moments of peace that you have, because who knows what's going to happen next.
(Peaceful everyday life, the smile of your friend, eyes of brilliant green, kind laughter, another missed opportunity for a quiet existence because neither of you have zero idea how to keep your fucking nose out of everything, look what you did then, do you really want to do it again now? To someone who will be just fine without you, to someone who doesn't even know you exist?)
Go home, dammit.
You can feel the magic pulsing inside you though, like the goddamn itch it is.
Stop trying to drag someone else into your problems, you irresponsible brat.
You want to use it to blow away this damn neighborhood, to challenge someone else that can actually take on your power to a fight.
Go. The fuck. Home.
But it's there in the back of your mind, more powerful than the memories. The first rule you made, the one you wanted to live by, no matter what.
Fuck holding back.
You have just enough state of mind around you to not flatten the whole surrounding suburban area as you send out a pulse of magical aura, the kind that any self-respecting magic user would be able to recognize—let alone the reincarnated ancient and overpowered wizard less than a hundred meters away from you. You wait ten seconds, just to give him enough time to wake up and register what the hell's going on, and then you move.
You also resist the urge to blast a hole in his ceiling and instead teleport straight inside his room. You can see the bags under his eyes, and you straighten your hijab. A few beats of silence pass—and you smile, though you're sure the expression is way more teeth than genuine happiness. You can feel the defensive aura he's put up, and it's basically on par with yours—and you forgot how exhilarating it was to stand on equal par with someone else, it's been too long.
"Merlin," you say, as if you're greeting an old friend.
"Who the fuck are you?" he says, voice purring down to a growl. The language he's using doesn't matter. You're pretty sure you both can speak all of them anyways, curse words included.
"You can call me Safir." It's not the name you got when you were born into this world, and it's not a name you've ever had before, but you might as well keep up the Matter of Britain schtick while you still can. "You look bored out of your damn mind. Wanna fight?"
"Hah?"
He gives you a look that's all contempt. You don't blame him; you're the wild person who charged into his room with no warning and demanded combat. But if you don't get to fight him at least once after sensing his aura, you know you're going to snap—the same way he's going to snap if he has to continue rotting here, wasting his potential just because of the judgement of others. Jealousy is such a petty emotion that doesn't do anything good for anyone, least of all the people it's directed at.
"I know you're not stupid, Merlin." You spread your arms. Flex your aura a little bit so he can tell you're not going all out yet. "I want to fight you, because I would actually like a challenge for once this damn lifetime. And if I really wanted to, I could find a way to corner you into this so you didn't have a choice, but consent is important and all that. So you can fight me willingly, or you can put up with sitting around and sulking about how you hate how all your pure talent just pushes people away from you.
"Your call, Magami Rintarou-chan."
The childish honorific makes a vein pop in his forehead, and the next moment his invisible swords are very much visible. "I'd rather not wreck my room over this. Since you invited yourself in, I'm sure you've already arranged a way better place to do this."
You haven't, but an idea springs to mind the moment he suggests it, about the same time you start the transportation magic. "My pleasure."
The desert at night is cold, but magic can fix those problems with hardly any energy depletion. You don't even need the light of the full moon to see each other, but it's a nice atmospheric addition. So many spells itch to launch off your fingers, and you can't pick just one to start with. Oh, wait, why even pick in the first place? That limit doesn't exist anymore.
Fuck holding back.
Multiple incantations form around you, spill off your lips—spells coagulate and form, and Rintarou's own build in response. You launch your own spells, build counters to his, then launch them, too. It's such a smooth progression, like a perfectly tuned symphony or two capoeira masters intertwining with each other that boiling it down to words would be a disgrace, wouldn't do it justice. You can't help but wonder if what you're doing is fighting or dancing.
Of course, it doesn't really matter what you call it.
It feels damn good.
You can't help but smile. Even if you haven't held back once in this lifetime, you still haven't found someone who could even come close to competing with you (back then, he couldn't do it either, no matter how much he touted his own monstrous strength). Fighting one on one with a worthy opponent, one who can match you blow for blow without hesitation and still have the foresight and ability to pull off a barraging counterattack in return?
Why the hell did you ever think you should leave Magami Rintarou alone?
The grin that cracks your face is feral, the adrenaline coursing through your veins is addicting. In the few flashes of Rintarou's expression that you happen to see between the spells and blasted sand, he's the same, too. Starting with confusion, frustration, but, in the end, that's the look of someone exactly like you, just with a few more years of pent up frustration lingering inside him.
You can work with that.
You're so hyped up on energy that you only realize that time is passing because your brain's observant like that. Night gives way to blazing desert daytime, and then night overtakes that again. You've basically rearranged the topography of the wasteland around you, but it's not like anyone comes out to this place anyways. You could keep battling forever, and not even the Dame du Lac could stop you.
Oh, yeah. They're a thing.
You don't really care about them—as if Morgan le Fey could actually scare you—but they do remind you about all that canon nonsense. You're already derailing things a bit here by giving Rintarou a rival, but a little ruined canon never hurt anyone. And besides—
Besides—
If I want this guy to keep giving me fun, I can't let him mope around all the time.
(I can't let him be like me.)
You don't cancel the spells you're launching off, but you don't form any new attacks, either. Instead, you teleport again, close enough to be right in Magami Rintarou's face. "You get it now, Merlin?"
You've surprised him enough that he doesn't immediately launch off an attack. "Get what?"
"Come on. I exist." You put a hand to your chest, smile in the moonlight. Your body starts to whine a bit at the loss of momentum, but you ignore it. "You're not some outlier in this world. I'm here. You can't possibly ever convince me to give up on anything just because you're too good."
Rintarou flinches, and all his pent up spellwork flickers out, leaving traces of energy through the air. That's to be expected when you hit the nail on the head. "What the hell do you even know?"
"Oh, please. You think I haven't heard it all before? 'You're a monster,' 'All this is your fault,' 'You ruin everything." More crystal clear memories from before try to slip into your immediate consciousness, but you push them away. Rintaro's jaw slacks before he catches himself. "That, and I'm a reincarnation, too. Different path than you, but I know plenty about what happened to you and what's going to happen to this timeline." You fold your hands behind your back, look up to the night sky. "So I decided that I'm going to be your friend, Merlin, because I'm someone that will never betray you. Besides, I doubt you could surpass me enough to even begin to make me feel jealous."
"You—" The next attack is so haphazard that you don't even bother to dodge or counter it. Rintarou's anger instead adds another dune to the desert.
"Let's look at it this way, shall we? Other people in your life gave up because they couldn't surpass you. How the fuck is that your problem?" You can start to see the wavering in his eyes, the hope for a world where he (you) doesn't have to be a monster. "If they want to give up on their dreams because someone is better than them, it's their loss. You know what I think?
"Fuck holding back!" Your voice echoes across the desert night. You spread your arms and dance across the air, until your feet touch down on the sand. "Fuck people who don't like you just because you don't want to hold back! Because you know what, Merlin? I think it's the perseverance of those who refuse to give into challenges that makes humanity so damn amazing!"
You spin back around, grinning up at Rintarou as he still hovers in midair. "So you know what would be fun? Let's you and I go help out a candidate in the King Arthur Succession Battle. We'll tear through any challenge that comes our way, and we'll shoot them to the top! And once that's done, we can go to the Other Side or whatever and kick the apocalypse's ass.
"Don't you get it? The two of us can do whatever the hell we want!"
You're so excited that you end up enhancing your jump into a leap, and then you're back on level with Rintarou. Feeling whimsical, you offer out your hands as a sign of solidarity. The past trauma makes him hesitate, but ultimately his palms are pressed against yours, fingers sending a shock of human warmth against your skin. "You swear to never betray me?"
"Should I make it a binding vow?" The spell sparks between your fingers, but you don't execute it. If he said the word, though, you would. It'd be worth it, really.
(You never want to see someone as broken as you were again.)
Rintarou shakes his head, though the moment of hesitation is obvious. "You don't need to go that far. Just know that if you ever do betray me, I'll spend the rest of this life and every one that comes after it making you regret it."
("Do that shit again and I'll break more than your nose.")
A giggle spills out of you, and you press a kiss to the back of Rintarou's hand, making a vow that doesn't use magic but makes his face flush red all the same. "I can work with that. Now let's get some food. I'm starving. What do you want, Merlin?
"We have the whole world just waiting for us."
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lo0ol
Ramen. Even with a whole damn globe at his disposal, Rintarou picks ramen. You don't particularly blame him. After something wild happens, there tends to be an instinct, a longing for comfort. Reincarnated Merlin or no, Magami Rintarou is still a Japanese teenager. You don't complain. It's been way too long since your last trip to Japan in this life, and authentic ramen is where it's at.
"Ahhh~. So damn good." You put down your third bowl and sigh in satisfaction. Yes, there's magic to maintain a body without food, water, or rest, but it drains even your ridiculous stores of energy like nobody's business. Besides, eating, drinking, and sleeping are some of the most refreshing experiences you've ever had. No sense in giving them up so you look impressive. You've spent way too many lifetimes taking trips to the hospital already. "You sure have good taste, Merlin. Don't think I've ever had noodles this good, and that's not just the hunger talking."
"You should know better than to doubt me." You shrug, trying to figure out if you'd make yourself sick with bowl number four, or if it's time to try to sleep off this energy high you've been on. Rintarou slurps up a fresh bite of noodles, his smug expression fracturing in the process. "Do you intend to call me Merlin all the time?"
You grin. "Would you rather I stick to 'Rintarou-chan'?" He scowls. You flag down the chef and get another bowl of shio, the comforting atmosphere feeling like another home from some time ago. "Look, if it really bothers you, I won't do it. I know it sucks to be called by a name you hate. But I like to think of it as a symbol of our alliance. You know, to honor your first life and all."
"But Safir wasn't your name in your first life."
"No. But that name doesn't really fit the theme this round, you know?" Besides, it's easier when each round has a different name. Makes it easier to keep the memories straight, to remember who you loved when.
An odd sort of seriousness slips onto his expression. It's mostly in the eyes. "Then I should know, too. If we're making this a 'symbol of our alliance' and all."
(The first life, one of the shortest lives, in a world so different than this one that it feels like a dream. One where you gave a name and gained a love. One where you sacrificed yourself.
It's not an unfamiliar pattern to you at all. You've done that at least ten times, if not more.
But it's still one of your most precious, the one that sticks with you the most, the bite of fangs, the ruby red eyes, the refusal to act on what you really wanted, the shout of a broken voice calling your name as you—)
"Ophelia."
Your voice is so quiet, you hardly even hear it. You haven't been called that name in what has to be centuries. Millenia? Pent up tears you didn't even know you were holding well up, and Rintarou looks uncomfortable as he turns back to his ramen, giving you space as you compose yourself. Take a deep breath. Touch your neck so you can feel your pulse. Wipe away your tears. Become able to speak without sobbing.
"If you…If you want to call me that you can." You don't know why you're saying it. Maybe it's to be fair. Could you even handle hearing that name again? "But why don't we save it? You know, for when it really matters." Rintarou raises an eyebrow at you. "You know, it'll be our little secret, and I'll do the same for you. Sound like a plan, Rintarou-chan?"
"How about you try dropping the '-chan'!"
A fresh round of laughter bursts out of you as the chef brings you your next bowl of ramen. You thank him and pick up your chopsticks again. "Oh, goodness, you want to be that close already? Who would have thought my kouhai would be so demanding as to drop honorifics after we've just met!"
You could really get used to watching him blush. It's excellent entertainment for your meal. "You seem so certain that you're older than me."
"Duh, this is what? Round two for you? Buddy, I've been through this so many times that I've lost count." Sure, with your perfect recollection at the moment, you could figure out the number, but what's it even matter? You have better things to spend your brainpower on, like appreciating this boss ass ramen broth. "Besides, if you can't put up with a little teasing from me, there's no way you're gonna be able to handle what you've got to put up with during the King Arthur Succession Battle."
"That's right. You mentioned we were going to help out a candidate." Rintarou polishes off the last of his broth and leans back in his seat a bit. "You know what's coming, don't you? If you've got clairvoyance magic, hand it over." He reaches out a hand, like he's demanding compensation.
You have no such thing, but you take his hand anyways, enjoying the contrast of your dark skin against his pale tone. "Sorry, that's not what I have. But I do have some good knowledge from before." You give him the quick rundown of how this world was a novel in a previous life and the rest of the basics. Thankfully, he takes it in stride. "So! Previously, you decided that the best way to cure your boredom would be to help out the weakest candidate as a challenge. And, well, she's a handful, but she's probably got plot armor or some bullshit, so there's no sense in challenging the protagonist, yeah? But don't you think it'd be loads of fun to go all out and wreck the competition? With me and you teaming up, whoever we chose to back up would win."
"Fair point. Hell, with me and you, maybe even the Dame du Lac…" His voice trails off into a mutter, and you use your free hand to enjoy your noodles before they get too soggy. "Well, let's focus on the Succession Battle for now. This candidate you've been talking about, the supposed weakest… What kind of King is she?"
Ah, yes, Luna Artur. "Well, she's absolute scum, really." Rintarou almost spits up the drink of water he was taking. "She does really ridiculous things with absolutely no consideration for how it's going to make her look. She's the type of dumbass that'll exploit her knight and sell her Excalibur. But you know what?" You point your chopsticks at Rintarou, not giving a damn if it's rude or not. "When it comes down it, she understands what it means to be a King, way more than anyone. Hell, she even made cynical old you to crack.
"If I have to back someone in this battle, it's definitely going to be her."
You both engage in a stare off, but the extension of noodles hanging from your mouth kind of breaks the tension. With a slurp, you've reset your expression, though you think some broth has flecked on your face. Whatever. If that's enough for Rintarou to discredit you, there's no way he's going to be able to last an hour in Luna Artur's presence.
"You absolutely trust her?" he asks, after an extended silence.
"Well, I trust your judgement, even if it's a different version of you. So, the question is, do you trust yourself?"
"Well, when you put it like that…" Rintarou adjusts his fingers, drawing your hand to his lips to leave a kiss across your knuckles before flashing a devil's grin. Oh, you're going to play that way, now are you? "Safir. Let's make a plan to crash the King Arthur Succession Battle."
You leave your chopsticks in your empty bowl and hold your free hand to your chest. "Oh, Rintarou-chan. I thought you'd never ask."
^^^
lo0ol
A few days pass of sleeping for hours and convincing the people in the rest of your respective lives that you haven't vanished off the face of the earth, and then it's time to plan. As far as you see it, you have two options for how to handle this: Run things as close to canon as possible, just with you involved, or Say fuck all that and chart a new course.
"What the fuck's the point of playing out a scenario where you already know what's going to happen?" Rintarou asks. He's sitting across from you at a café in Italy, a hand propped on his cheek. You had a craving for gelato, so why not go to the source?
You pop your spoon out of your mouth and wield it as a baton. "An excellent point. So, when do you want to do this, and how big of a disturbance do you want to make? Oh, also, also, try this."
When you offer out a freshly gelato-filled spoon, Rintarou dutifully opens his mouth. After taking a few moments to enjoy the flavor, he nods. "Hm, not bad. And, again, I ask, what the fuck's the point if we don't just change things up as much as possible? Fuck holding back, right?"
"And fuck people who don't like us just because we won't hold back." It's nice that he's finally getting it. With a satisfied sigh, you finish off your gelato and set your trash aside. "Alright, so we can probably throw things off the most by launching into things early. The question is how early do we want to go?"
Rintarou stands up and stretches a bit, that heretical grin starting to stretch across his face. "Why not now? You can't tell me you haven't already tracked her down like you did with me."
He's got you there. It was one of the first things you did after forming your alliance. You stand as well, doing mental math in your head. "It's super early morning there right now, you know."
"You say as if that stopped you when you came and attacked me." You shrug and offer him your arm. It's not strictly necessary for the teleportation spell you're weaving, and he knows it, but for some reason, physical boundaries really don't matter. You walk in step out of the café, fresh air and clusters of Italian discussions washing over you. "You take care of getting us there and I'll even escort you home."
"How romantic of you." You keep a straight face for as long as it takes for both of you to snort—and then you switch to game mode. Both of you put on your best magical aura presentation, and you teleport in the next second before anyone in the crowd can even notice something's off. You touch down in a very messy room with one very dazed blonde in her pajamas before you. "Luna Artur, one of the eleven chosen candidates for the King Arthur Succession Battle—"
"Have we got a deal for you."
[Author's Notes]
This is a one shot, I swear to god, I say, already thinking of follow up pieces and other nonsense that Safir, Rintarou, and Luna can all get into.
I've always wanted to go ham and write a self-insert sort of "character is a reincarnation that has knowledge of canon events" kind of thing (and I have a few other drafts of stuff like that hidden in my docs, but those got too long to be standalones, so-). I also wanted to play around with the "okay, but seriously I'm too OP for this nonsense" trope, and considering that Last Round Arthurs handles both of these things, why not just go and have a wild time, my brain seemed to insist as it gave me the idea for a 5k word one shot only eighty pages into the first light novel.
I give aggressive piles of credit to the works of Vroomian for inspiring this style, and even more inspiration drawn specifically from their knb fic Horsehoes & Hand Grenades.
Safir's name comes from, like, the only foreign member I could find of the Knights of the Round, though he isn't considered one of the main twelve, so I don''t foresee any complications with LRA canon. If there is, then, well, *shrug*.
If I'm being one-hundred percent honest this will ultimately morph into a one shot collection, but I'm not letting myself write any more until at least the second volume comes out in the States in May, and possibly even a bit longer because I'm making massive headway on Aviantei for the first time in years.
Stay safe during COVID-19, folks, and thanks for reading!
-Avi
[04.13.2020]