Black Clover : Asta's Father

First of all the fall off is Insane.

😭😭 Like damn ! What made this story fall off is beyond me?

Second of all Some people misunderstood the last chapter's Flashback so I'll clarify.

Nero and Mereoleona were a thing before Nero met Richita not after.

Now they are simple friends.

---

Their relationship had always been a roller coaster, a storm of passion and conflict that burned brightly but briefly.

After their distance grew, and he met Richita, things had changed.

He had changed.

Mereoleona had been a chapter of his past, one of fire and chaos, but she had never truly been gone.

Even after Richita's death, Mereoleona had remained the only person capable of pulling him back when his dwindling morality, experiments and ambitions threatened to spiral into apocalyptic extremes.

She had been the first person he called to meet the newborn Asta.

She was the first person to know , about the boy and the woman who had reshaped Nero's existence.

Yet Mereoleona alone knew the depths of the darkness Nero had plunged into after Richita's death.

She had seen firsthand how his morality had dissolved in the face of his desperation to bring her back.

And now, here they were again.

"I need your help," Nero said finally, his voice calm but carrying an edge that didn't go unnoticed by her.

Mereoleona's brow arched, her arms crossing as she leaned back in her chair. "That's new. You're usually not the type to ask for help outright. What's this about, Nero?"

He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the desk between them. "It's a delicate experiment, one that requires someone with your... resilience. A blood ritual, one that needs precise mana control and endurance. You fit the criteria."

She studied him for a moment, her gaze narrowing. "That's a lot of words to not tell me what you're actually planning."

Nero's expression didn't shift, though internally, he felt the weight of her suspicion. "It's a theory I'm testing. Something that could lead to significant .... things."

Her eyes blazed for a moment, her mana spiking briefly before she reined it in. "You know better than to throw vague answers at me, Nero. After everything I've seen you do, everything I've stopped you from doing, you really think I'm just going to blindly follow you into this?"

He met her gaze, unflinching. "You've trusted me before."

"I trusted you because I could stop you with my words." she snapped, her tone sharp. "Because tou would hear no one else. And let's not pretend you haven't gone too far before despite that."

There was a long silence between them, the weight of their shared history settling heavily in the room.

Finally, Nero broke the silence, his tone softer but still firm. "I don't need you to trust the experiment, Mereoleona. I need you to trust me."

Her fiery glare didn't waver, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly. "You know I hate it when you say things like that. It makes it harder to argue with you."

He allowed a small smirk to touch his lips. "Then consider it a calculated tactic."

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Fine. I'll help. But if this is one of your insane, world-ending ideas, I'm stopping you, Nero. Even if I'll have to kill myself for it."

His expression softened, though he quickly masked it. "I know."

What he didn't tell her—what he wouldn't tell her yet—was the true purpose of the experiment.

The blood ritual wasn't just about testing a theory.

It was about confirming whether the remnants of Yhwach's power was really what lingered within him.

If they did, he intended to use that power to its fullest extent by creating quincies again.

Not even Mereoleona could stop him if it came to that.

---

Asta crouched low in the damp cave, his massive anti-magic sword embedded in the ground beside him.

Streams of destruction surged from the blade, "destroying" the "cold" that had seeped into the air.

The children huddled around him, their trembling slowly subsiding as warmth spread throughout the space.

"Hang in there,This cold doesn't stand a chance against me."

Just as the situation in the cave seemed to settle, a sudden gust of wind and a faint hum of magic filled the air.

Asta looked up sharply, sensing a familiar presence.

A moment later, Noelle descended, gracefully riding on his Demon Slayer sword as it soared through the air.

"Noelle!" Asta called, standing up as she landed effortlessly.

Noelle stepped off the sword, her silver hair shimmering in the dim light, her face set with determination. "I brought reinforcements," she announced, gesturing behind her as two figures emerged from the swirling snowstorm outside.

The first was Alice, a tall blonde with piercing green eyes and an aura of raw confidence.

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Her leather armor bore the marks of countless battles, and the faint scent of gunpowder clung to her, a testament to her explosive magic.

She surveyed the cave with a whistle. "Well, this is a mess. But we'll fix it," she said with a grin.

The second was Jean Gunnhildr, her serene demeanor a stark contrast to Alice's fiery energy.

[IMAGE]

Jean's long blonde hair, tied neatly in a braid, gave her a striking resemblance to the nobility she hailed from.

A fellow water mage from one of House Silva's side branches, Jean's calm blue eyes landed immediately on the shivering children.

Without hesitation, Jean raised a hand, her mana surging as she manipulated the snow and water in the air.

Warmth flowed into the cave as she used her magic to dispel the cold and insulate the walls.

The children, now surrounded by a comforting heat, sighed in relief.

Jean glanced at Noelle, her voice calm yet tinged with concern. "I'll keep the environment stable for now. The children are too fragile."

Asta looked from Jean to Alice, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "They're strong. Who are they?"

Noelle crossed her arms, her tone firm. "Members of the Soul Knights. Alice is the strongest explosion mage in the kingdom, Jean—she's a water mage from a side branch of my family. She tried to teach me magic once, but... my siblings forced her out." Her voice faltered briefly, anger flashing in her eyes. "They even threatened her house."

Alice shrugged with a smirk." Heh you're welcome to praise me more."

Before Asta could respond, the faint sound of movement drew their attention.

The unconscious man in the corner, whom Asta had knocked out earlier, began to stir.

His eyes fluttered open, and without hesitation, he yanked a small magic device from his belt amd pushed a button on it.

Asta's instincts kicked in, and he moved faster than anyone could react.

His sword struck the man's head with a dull thud, rendering him unconscious once more.

Alice raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Persistent little guy, isn't he?"

Jean frowned, her magic still stabilizing the cave. "Unfortunately, that call might've gone through. Reinforcements could already be on their way."

Noelle's face hardened, her hands tightening into fists. "We don't have time to waste. If they're coming, we need to be ready."

Asta nodded, his grip on his sword tightening. "Then let's make sure they don't even get close."

The atmosphere in the cave grew tense as the group prepared for what lay ahead.

---

Mereoleona sat sprawled on a worn leather sofa, her fiery hair cascading down her back as she leaned back with a casual confidence that could only belong to her.

Her sharp eyes followed Nero, who was meticulously preparing an altar in Nero's research chamber of the Soul Knights' headquarters.

The faint hum of magical energy filled the room as he carefully etched runes into the stone floor, layering them with intricate symbols drawn from ancient texts and his extensive magical knowledge.

"You're really going all out with this, aren't you?" Mereoleona remarked, her voice breaking the silence.

She stretched her arms, the motion almost lazy, though the energy in her tone betrayed her sharp interest.

Nero didn't look up, his focus unwavering as he worked. "I prefer precision over improvisation," he said flatly. "Especially when it involves something this delicate."

She smirked, shaking her head. "Figures. You and your perfectionism."

For a moment, she watched him in silence, then began to talk, as she often did when they were alone.

"Elementalization's coming along, by the way," she said, her tone shifting to something almost contemplative. "Just like you suggested—focusing on perfecting my connection with fire, letting it consume me completely. I'm getting closer to becoming one with it. The raw power, the control... it's exhilarating."

Nero paused briefly, glancing at her with an almost imperceptible nod before returning to his work. "It's the optimal path for you. You'll never need a grimoire if you can achieve true elemental mastery. Your fire will become your spellbook."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "But I still can't figure out how you pull off those complex spells without a grimoire. Hell, I can barely manage simple enchantments without one. And even those are a pain if the target's moving."

Nero allowed himself a faint smirk as he adjusted one of the runes on the altar. "That's because you rely on brute force," he said, his voice calm but edged with dry amusement. "Magic is as much about finesse as it is about power. Your fire is powerful, but it's wild. Untamed."

Her smirk turned into a scowl, though there was no real anger in it. "Careful, Nero. You keep talking like that, and I might take it as a challenge."

"You always do," he replied, his tone entirely unbothered.

The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, save for the faint scratching of Nero's tools against the stone.

Mereoleona leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees as she watched him work with a smile on her face.

Despite her frustrations, she respected his knowledge—and perhaps even more so, his ability to push her beyond her limits.

"Still," she said after a while, her voice quieter now.

"I can't shake the feeling that I'll never catch up to you. You're like a damn walking anomaly, Nero. Sometimes, it's like you're not even human."

At that, Nero finally paused, turning to look at her fully.

His gaze was steady, unreadable. "I stopped being 'just human' a long time ago, Mereoleona. You know that better than most."

Her expression softened slightly, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something unspoken between them.

Then she leaned back again, crossing her arms and grinning. "Well, good thing I like a challenge. If anyone can keep up with someone like you, it's me."

Nero shook his head faintly thinking 'Keep dreaming ', returning to his work. "Just don't burn yourself in the process," he muttered.

"Can't make any promises," she shot back, her grin widening.

---

Nero stood back, assessing the altar and the complex runes glowing faintly on the floor.

His expression betrayed none of the tension in his body as he took a deep breath and declared, "Okay, I'm done here."

Mereoleona, who had been lounging on the sofa with her arms crossed, cracked one eye open and groaned, "Finally. I was almost about to fall asleep from boredom."

As she stood and began walking toward the altar, Nero's voice rang out sharply. "Uh-uh, get those clothes off first."

She froze mid-step, turning to glare at him with a deadpan, accusatory expression that screamed pervert.

Unfazed, Nero met her gaze with calm practicality. "Please, there's nothing there I haven't already seen. And you know I won't touch you. I'm a loyal man."

Mereoleona let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes. "You really know how to kill the mood, you know that?" Still, she complied, slipping out of her clothes and standing bare before him with her usual confidence.

She stepped into the center of the altar, and as soon as her foot touched the formation, shallow cuts appeared all over her body.

She looked down, surprised, but no blood fell from the wounds.

Nero's voice echoed around the chamber, his tone commanding yet calm. "I want you to concentrate on letting your mana flow through your blood. Focus."

As she closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, Nero's own clothes disintegrated in a swirl of blue light, revealing similar shallow cuts appearing on his skin.

His blood, infused with his mana, began to flow toward her, while hers did the same, weaving through the air like threads of light.

Mereoleona focused intently, her brow furrowing as she controlled her mana flow with precision. "This isn't so bad," she muttered, about to comment further when a sharp, burning sensation jolted through her body.

A scream tore from her throat as her knees buckled, and Nero moved quickly, gripping her hands to steady her.

"Focus," he ordered, his voice low and firm.

Her veins began to glow, starting from the cuts where his blood entered her body, spreading out like a network of molten light.

The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and her mind began to slip as the sensation overwhelmed her.

Unconscious fire erupted around her, but its color shifted, deepening into an ethereal blue under Nero's influence.

Nero's eyes burned red, the division in his pupils sharpening as he pressed further.

He felt the strain in his soul intensify, a searing pain that made him clench his fists until blood dripped freely from his palms.

Despite the agony, he pushed on, his resolve unshaken.

Mereoleona's screams faded as her body succumbed, her fire dimming into a flickering ember.

She collapsed against him, unconscious, her body trembling as the ritual concluded.

Nero caught her by the waist, cradling her carefully.

His own body trembled, but his eyes glowed with a dark satisfaction.

Blood seeped from the cuts on his skin, dripping onto the altar, but he didn't seem to notice.

In that moment, he felt it—the unmistakable connection he had sought.

The same bond he remembered from his time in Yhwach's dream.

A connection that tied her to him, like a thread woven into the very fabric of her being.

"It worked," he muttered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and pain. "At a cost, but it worked."

As he looked down at Mereoleona's unconscious form, a mix of relief and regret flickered in his expression.

His clenched hand, trembling and bloodied, remained at his side as he carefully carried her away from the altar.

In the stillness that followed, Nero couldn't help but wonder: How much further will I have to go for my goals?

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