Chapitre 23: Fellow Man
Roughly Five Minutes Earlier:
Rex Gardner:
Oh, shit! Damn, the 'Crazy Cyclone' had me feeling like a bag of smashed assholes as I tore through the damn sky towards my little slice of paradise. Cold sweat and anxiety tag-teamed the shit out of any other emotion I had left. What the hell, man? Why does this bullshit luck have to bite us in the ass every damn time? I step out of the village for a freaking minute, and boom, we got ourselves a full-blown invasion
My eyes shot up as the familiar sight of my village came into view, now adorned with a red dome that seemed hell-bent on stealing the show at a destruction derby. Before I could fully process the scene, the darn thing cracked, and dark domes littered the landscape, turning it into a chaotic disco inferno. Quick as a cat on a hot tin roof, I slapped on those glasses Light gave me, activating a nifty function I stumbled upon years ago—enhanced scope. From a distance, I spotted Gamgee, surrounded by four inquisitors soaking up the magical energy from the shattered barriers. The poor guy was in the thick of it.
Out of the blue, Gamgee pulled off some sorcery and conjured a massive beanstalk, trapping those inquisitor troublemakers in a wooden birdcage. I stashed the glasses back into my inventory and rushed over to lend a hand to my grandpa, but hold your horses, something caught my eye in the distance. A group of armored characters, donning peculiar hats and clad in eccentric outfits, were sneaking towards the village from our usual training grounds in the forest clearing. Right then, Kagura's warning echoed in my head, prompting a scowl as I prepared for whatever the heck was about to go down.
Silently, I hovered above them, masking my presence as the ominous battalion advanced without a hint of awareness. The lead NPC soldier bellowed orders to his comrades: "While the lord inquisitors deal with the infidel, we will round up the children. If the adults obey, lock them up too, but if they refuse, just get rid of them!"
The remainder of the battalion nodded in agreement, providing me with a valuable moment to assess the situation. I meticulously probed their essence but detected not a whisper of magical energy, signifying their mundane nature. The absence of magical signatures raised questions — were the inquisitors the sole wielders of arcane arts within the cult, or did they believe their quartet could handle matters, leaving the magical battalion to safeguard the tower? Regardless, this revelation streamlined my task. Before deciding on my course of action, I sought guidance from Light.
"Light, can the inventory store living things?"
DING! "Yes, it can, proving my superiority over 'Requip,' and before you ask, living things can survive indefinitely in the storage."
You're still bitter about that, I mused to myself. Regardless, I pointed my finger at the battalion, channeling my magical energy toward everyone except the lead soldier, presumed to be their commander. "Fire Magic: Explosive Reheating," I chanted mentally. In contrast to my encounter with Adonis, where his power and my increased strength allowed a moment of realization, these hapless foes disintegrated into ash without even grasping their impending doom.
"What the?!" exclaimed the NPC Captain in terror, turning to witness the macabre scene. Swiftly, I hoisted him off the ground with a facepalm, muffling his attempts to scream. "Mfff," he struggled, his widened eyes futile against the vast chasm in our physical strength. Instructing my companion mentally, I commanded: "Light, place him in the inventory."
A familiar sound rang out. DING! The NPC vanished into motes of light, his profile image now occupying one of my inventory slots.
"Why'd you do that?" Light queried, prompting an eye roll from me, as he was already capable of reading my mind. Yet, as if some unseen force urged me to elucidate, I humored him, articulating my rationale. "I need someone to tell me where the tower is, and if the other inquisitors are anything like Adonis, they'll be too devout to share any information. Capturing one of them would be too troublesome. So, I settled on this nobody. Even if he doesn't know deep secrets, even a fool should remember where he came from, shouldn't he?"
"Ah, some good old-fashioned torture, huh?" Light exclaimed with palpable excitement. I simply nodded, my attention abruptly yanked back toward the village square. Out of the blue, my grandfather's birdcage detonated, birthing a pyrotechnic spectacle that could make any arsonist grin with delight. Shit! I mentally screamed once again, leaping onto 'Crazy Cyclone' and hurtling toward the square. The scene was enveloped in smoke as the beanstalk crumbled, the platform crashing down and transforming the once-pristine town square, which had stood for centuries, into a chaotic mess of cracked rubble.
With visibility compromised due to the smoke, I hastily equipped the glasses once more, zooming in from above to obtain a bird's eye view. My attention was immediately drawn to the bloody and ashen figure of Gamgee, a tumultuous blend of anxiety and relief coursing through me. In front of him stood a grotesque corpse, missing its upper half, reminiscent of my artwork with the 'Great Khan.' My gaze then shifted to another wretched figure, perhaps a once-beautiful young woman, now coughing weakly and ebbing away the remnants of her life, sprawled on the ground with the left side of her body nearly obliterated.
Just as my concern began to ebb, anxiety surged again as the dissipating smoke unveiled two relatively unscathed inquisitors. The first exuded a frosty aura, his abs and arms adorned with dragon-like scales and markings, though he bore a few superficial burns and cuts. The second, however, remained impeccably untouched, not a speck of dust gracing his pristine attire, a detail that prompted a mocking mental gesture to my grandfather's simulated cleaning motion. Warning bells clamored in my head as the unscathed inquisitor began to smile and clap, exchanging words with Gamgee that I struggled to discern.
As the smoke dispersed further, revealing the aftermath, he turned around, his head raised to the sky, locking eyes with mine and capturing everyone's attention. The last fragment of his monologue echoed in my ears: "...I have faith you won't let me down."
------
"Oh, I see. He's a mid-boss, huh?" I mused inwardly. But the lingering doubt persisted — was he not a tad too formidable for a mid-boss? My contemplation continued, beads of nervous sweat trickling down my cheeks. The fact that I could discern his magical energy, albeit faint in comparison to mine, should have been reassuring. After all, not everyone possesses Magna Swing's knack for maximizing minimal resources. However, the undeniable truth lay in his nonchalant demeanor, a manifestation not of arrogance, but of overwhelming power. Perhaps he possessed a means of concealing his true strength, as my gut instincts hinted at a reservoir of magical potency beyond my own, especially evident in his resilience against the earlier explosion.
Descending toward my grandfather, I tensed when the frosty adversary, seemingly near my level in that formidable form, moved to intercept me. However, his movement was halted as his ostensible companion, or whatever relation they shared, obstructed him with a nonchalant finger wag. Despite veins popping and a face flushed with fury, he begrudgingly complied. Yet, the so-called companion paid him no heed, turning toward me with a seemingly benign 'go ahead' gesture, setting off alarm bells in my mind.
With caution, I approached my grandfather, turning only when I deemed their interference unlikely. Hastily reaching out to catch Gamgee, I cradled him gently as his strength seemed to wane, a gruff "Ahgg" escaping his lips along with a mouthful of blood. Shushing him, I carefully laid him on his back, initiating the process to mend his battered body. As I enveloped him in a magical cloud for transmutation, my thoughts began to wander. While I could mend his physical form, replenishing his magical energy proved beyond my capabilities, and I lacked any of Charmy's treats to aid in the recovery. Damn it! Was I seriously about to face these two monstrosities alone? I sighed, desperately hoping for a surge of plot armor to tip the scales in my favor.
As my grandfather's pallor normalized and the magical cloud dissipated, signaling the conclusion of the treatment, he regarded me with an expression laden with unspoken words. 'Don't die, Rex.' 'Easier said than done, old man,' I mused internally, but he offered no response. Fatigue overcame him, and his eyes closed, succumbing to unconsciousness from the excessive magic expenditure.
Surveying the surroundings, lacking trust in the Inquisitors and discerning no safe haven, I opted to temporarily stow my grandfather in the inventory. Commanding Light to act, Gamgee dissipated into particles of magical energy, safely nestled within my inventory. The icy adversary observed me with a mix of shock and confusion, while his more ominous companion continued to smile, an unsettling knowing look in his eyes.
A prompt appeared in front of me with a familiar sound.
DING! "Assigned mission: 'A Hobbit's Spirit.' Description: 'Defend your village from the invaders.' Status: 'Optional.' Failure: 'Fall of Hobbiton.' Rewards: '???'"
DING! "Do you accept it?"
I mentally chose yes and stood up to face my two new friends.
------
"Your names?" I inquired, strategically biding my time to regain a modicum of magical power, acutely aware that every drop would prove indispensable for the impending confrontation.
The foreboding figure chuckled softly. "Heh heh heh, you two really are grandson and grandfather after all. Well, no matter, you may call me Marx."
The frosty individual grunted reluctantly, "Tch, brat, my name is Joseph. In the 'very near' future, I'll be your boss."
Arching an incredulous eyebrow, I retorted, "You're the boss?" My skeptical gesture seemed to further infuriate him, his killing intent pulsating visibly. Shaking my head, I continued, "When will you guys realize? Do I have to spell it out? I W-i-l-l n-e-v-e-r j-o-i-n y-o-u! Capisce?"
Marx nodded sagely, remarking, "No, you won't, that is clear. However, you not joining the cult and joining me are two different matters."
Joseph, in a fit of rage, turned toward his comrade and lunged at him, snarling, "You really are defecting, you filthy traitor! Die!" As he closed in on Marx, swiping his right claw in an attempt to claim his head, he was abruptly bisected and minced into countless cubes of flesh. Fodder, I mused.
"Phweeee," I whistled, attempting to conceal my trepidation. Unable to resist a snarky remark, I quipped, "You sure your name ain't Ryomen Sukuna?"
Rather than easing my nerves, his next words, filled with humility, froze me in place. "I'm afraid it would be immature to compare me to the Disgraced One. I'm a mere novice in comparison," he uttered, shaking his head modestly.
Suddenly, a cascade of warning bells clicked in my mind, and the reason for my unease dawned on me. Sweating, I nervously posed what was more of a statement than a question: "You're from Earth, aren't you?"
He nodded with an air of approval. "Of course. Took you a while to figure it out! Not the brightest in the bunch, are you."
I refrained from taking offense, inwardly cringing at my obliviousness. Summoning the courage to probe further, I forced myself to ask, "Are you a fan of Black Clover?"
"I wouldn't go as far as to say I'm a true fan. But I'm still privy to its story."
"Sooooo...."
"Yes, I know all your moves," came his ominous reply.
Well, that's just great. I'm dead, facing a fellow transmigrator with nearly two decades more experience, who's privy to all my tricks. Suicide, I thought.
He looked at me with a hint of apology, attempting to placate me. "Don't be scared. We don't have to fight. It's pretty pointless and obvious you're outmatched. So why don't you join me?"
Hope flared as I questioned, "Will you free the slaves?"
"Sorry, I can't do that. I need them. But I promise they won't die."
Sighing in sorrow, I conceded, "Then it looks like I can't join you."
He regarded me with pity and remarked, "Oh... I see. You can't control your destiny, can you?"
'You can,' I silently expressed, questioning him with a look.
He somberly nodded. "It's a bit complicated, but I regained it about a decade ago. Those constellations are a nasty bunch."
A decade, huh? What a coincidence. I merely nodded and continued, "Sorry, but my dignity as a man is on the line."
Understanding my implication, he subconsciously clutched Marx junior in horror, offered me condolences, and declared, "It's disappointing, but I suppose ending you here would also be an act of mercy and free you."
I'm quite fine without your mercy, I thought.
The time for words had passed. An invisible bell rang in both our minds as we charged at each other, magically enhanced right fist meeting magically enhanced right fist, generating a shockwave that resounded throughout the village and signaled the commencement of our battle.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
hmak27230
hmak27230 Sorry for the really short chapter, I got work to do.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone