Black Clover : Asta's Father

[BONUS CHAPTER]

A bit of face slapping and AU world elements in this chapter.

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Just as Solid sneered, preparing to drench Noelle further, a blur moved before his eyes—a fist glowing with a faint, fiery-red aura slammed into his face.

Boom~Crack

The impact was brutal, cracking through bone and teeth, sending Solid flying backward across the hall with his spit and broken teeth flying out of his mouth.

He hit the ground with a sickening thud, blood dripping from his broken face as he struggled to process what had happened.

Standing where Solid had been, Asta's face was a mask of cold fury, his usually friendly eyes steeled with an intensity that left the room in silence.

Noelle looked at him, shocked.

This wasn't the lighthearted boy she knew; this was someone different.

Nebra moved to step forward, anger twisting her features, but as she tried to open her mouth, her knees buckled.

She felt a wave of pure, suffocating malice radiating from Asta, a presence so fierce it brought her to her knees, her body shaking under the pressure.

Asta appeared much more like a devil in her eyes than human.

The reason for this was that Asta had known Liebe his entire life.

He had stood by Liebe's side young and unaware when he lost His mother unable to do anything.

Asta had watched, felt, and absorbed the same hatred for devils that Liebe held.

For Asta, that hatred had evolved differently—it became a potent, nearly corrosive force, a kind of pure destruction that lay dormant within him similar to Liebe's Anti-Magic

And now, a tiny fraction of that destructive power slipped through, a crack in the wall of his usually calm self.

The crimson aura was more than anger; it was the quiet, terrifying promise of obliteration.

Asta's voice, calm yet filled with anger, cut through the silence. "I don't care about being a 'peasant' or whether I have magic or not. But lay a hand on Noelle , mock her one more time, and trust me you will wish you were never born."

He turned his intense gaze on Nebra, who felt as though her very soul was pinned under his stare. "If you nobles think you're above everyone because of magic, then show me—face me. But if all you do is spit venom at those you consider weaker, then you're no knight, and you're certainly no mage worth fearing."

Solid, still on the floor, tried to get up, clutching his broken face. He glared up at Asta, his voice slurred and weak. "You... filthy... peasant... how dare you—"

Asta's aura flared, cracking the ground a little.

"If you can still talk, then remember this: true strength isn't measured by birthright. If you can't respect others, then you don't deserve to stand in their presence."

Noelle, watching him in awe, felt a surge of emotioms she didn't understand.

For once, someone had stood up for her with unshakable conviction, a fire that nothing—no social rank, no magic power—could extinguish.

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Just as Nozel took a step forward, fury in his eyes and ready to intervene on behalf of his brother and diffuse this scandal in progress, a chilling aura washed over the room.

Conversations hushed, and the air turned heavy and thick, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

All the seasoned mages in the hall felt a pressure weighing on them, like an invisible hand pressing down on their chests.

The common servers fell unconscious.

Small arcs of blue lightning crackled and danced across the floor, tracing a path toward the grand entrance.

The massive gates began to creak, slowly swinging open with a supernatural force, untouched by any hand.

A powerful silence filled the space, broken only by the steady, deliberate sound of boots striking the tile floor.

Nero stepped through the entrance, his eyes dark and unyielding.

There was no need for words; his very presence radiated authority.

Every noble, every mage, even the strongest knights in the room couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and dread.

Nero's gaze fell on Solid, still sprawled across the floor, his face bloodied and bruised, and then moved to Asta, who stood unwavering.

With a barely perceptible nod to Asta, Nero's eyes sharpened, a slight frown creasing his brow as he turned his attention to the other nobles present.

"Pathetic," he said, his voice cold, cutting through the silence. "Is this how members of the Clover Kingdom conduct themselves? Mocking a knight who has given everything for this kingdom?"

"Things like this are the reason why i prefer to stay away from these cesspool of frauds and not attend such events."

Solid and Nebra, despite their pride and their training, couldn't meet Nero's gaze.

His presence was oppressive, an undeniable reminder of his authority and his reputation.

Nero looked directly at Nozel, his voice dropping lower but somehow becoming even more intense. "If this is what the Silva family deems acceptable behavior, then perhaps the Silva line is no longer worthy of being one of the royal houses."

Nozel clenched his fists, his jaw set, but he didn't speak.

No he couldn't speak Nozel didn't have the necessary strength needed to brethe.

He could feel the weight of Nero's words pressing on him, and he knew better than to challenge the man here.

Nero's eyes landed on Asta, a flicker of approval barely visible on his stoic face. He gave a slight nod, just enough for Asta to notice. "Well done… son." His voice was calm, yet the word carried an unexpected weight.

It stunned the entire room into silence, with shocked expressions flitting across every face.

No one had ever heard Nero call anyone "son" before.

Was Asta Nero's Child ?

Then, he stepped forward into the center of the hall, his gaze sweeping over the nobles like they were insignificant insects.

His tone, cold and precise, cut through the air. "Tell me… do any of you understand what separates you from animals?"

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable as the nobles shifted uneasily, too proud to answer yet unwilling to meet his eyes.

Nero smirked, his disdain palpable. "Of course you don't. It's empathy... and logic. Qualities that, judging by the lot of you, are in dreadfully short supply, but considering most of you are nothing but mana pigs its not surprising."

He turned, his gaze narrowing on the nobles who had been whispering earlier, his voice laced with mockery. "You, with your fancy magic, your illustrious family names… yet you act like animals, hell wven worse like insects, flaunting power as though it makes you more than you are. "

"You're so pathetic I feel sorry for yoir next generation."

The nobles visibly flinched, unable to hide their discomfort as Nero's words struck deeper with each sentence.

"Imagine," he continued, tone sharp as a blade, "being so weak in mind that the sight of true strength—of someone rising without privilege or power—makes you feel threatened."

"How amusing it is that a ' mere peasant ' possesses a strength none of you could ever hope to comprehend. All that mana… and yet you are nothing but wastes of space."

Turning back to Asta, Nero gave one final, pointed look. "Learn from this, Asta."

" These fools? They're nothing. Remember that true strength has no bloodline."

No one dared to speak. Not the powerful Vermillions, nor the esteemed Silvas.

Nero's reputation loomed too large, his disdain for noble corruption woven into every story told about him.

He was infamous, feared by even the most influential families, not just for his open contempt for nobility, but for the ruthless actions he had taken against them.

Thirteen noble houses had met their end under Nero's hand—houses with bloodlines as old as the kingdom, wiped out with precision and without a trace of mercy.

These weren't just petty crimes he was reacting to.

No, Nero had eradicated houses steeped in vile practices and deep-rooted corruption.

Each family had crossed a line, a line they thought nobility allowed them to straddle freely, until Nero's gaze fell upon them.

Some were guilty of framing Conrad, a beloved hero.

They manipulated evidence, bribed officials, and ruthlessly destroyed Conrad's reputation and life for their own gain.

Eventually leading to Nero having to kill his arguable first and last "friend" if you could call him that.

Their lives came to a swift and brutal end when Nero uncovered the truth, leaving their estates abandoned, their influence shattered.

Others indulged in the horrors of sex trafficking and slavery, viewing those born without magic or power as nothing more than commodities.

These nobles propagated cruelty, filling their coffers with the suffering of innocents.

It was no secret among the remaining nobles that Nero had hunted them down with relentless fury, ripping apart entire households, leaving not even a shadow of their influence behind.

In Nero's own words, "Those born into privilege often have minds as stagnant as the gold they cling to. "

"Their cruelty rots this kingdom from within. I as the sole sane mind can not possibly stand by and watch this."

As Nero released his stifling aura, the pressure in the room dissipated like a dark cloud lifting, leaving a profound silence in its wake.

He sighed, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, an almost casual gesture that contrasted starkly with the dread he had just inspired.

"Exhausting," he muttered, almost to himself.

Nel, standing nearby, looked up at him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Why are you tired, captain?"

He turned to her, his voice edged with dry amusement. "Because," he said, "it's a grueling task to step on ants... without crushing them entirely."

His gaze swept over the crowd of nobles, who now stood frozen, their expressions wary, knowing all too well that they were the "ants" he spoke of.

Nero couldn't give a single flying fuck.

Nero's gaze flicked to Nozel, who stood slightly apart from the rest of the nobles, his jaw clenched in barely restrained anger.

The silver-haired captain's eyes, usually so composed, betrayed the simmering fury within him.

Nozel was clearly upset by the way Nero had dismantled the entire room with his words and pressure.

The lack of restraint, the utter contempt Nero showed, was more than the captain could easily swallow.

Nero's lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk.

He didn't miss the flash of anger in Nozel's eyes, and the thought passed through his mind like a fleeting shadow.

You're lucky I haven't started talking about Acier. Consider this mercy from the extra emotional damage.

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Stones and Reviews please

250 Powerstone 1 Bonus Chapter

500 Powerstones 2 Bonus Chapter