Fanfic Recommendation 96
My Fanfics
Summary: In a different world, Bell Cranel died at the hands of the Minotaur on the Fifth Floor. The Moon Presence, searching for a new Hunter to bring the long night to an end, just so happened to stumble across his soul on the way to Heaven. Thus a contract was established.
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A Fate Grand Order x FSN Fanfic
Summary: In between being a hero and searching for a way to get to Saber, Shirou Emiya got a job as a technician at Chaldeas Security Organization. What is not to like? Very good pay, help save the world, and use his abilities as both a repairman and a magus. It has all the advantages he could want. Too bad his Spiritron Dive ability is too low to be a Master while others fight in Fuyuki.
A Pokemon Fanfic
Summary: Time travel, based on the Anime. So, the world ended. That’s bad news. Who best to get to fix it? Well, there is this guy with a track record in world saving… Not entirely serious. T rating may be overdoing it.
Rabbit of the Moon: Chapter 18 [DanMachi/Bloodborne]
Chapter 18: The Blacksmith and the Swordswoman
The sun was setting over the horizon of a grassy field.
The green carpet was only split by a dirt path, carved out by countless feet tracking over the same path until it became a road. The evening breeze was cool and refreshing as it gently caressed the cheeks of a young boy with hair as white as the moon in full and eyes as crimson as blood.
Bell Cranel was just a boy. He was short, adorned by a plain shirt and baggy pants that hung off his frame. His tiny fingers that weren’t even large enough to grip a hoe instead clung to the pants of the tall figure next to him, his only family in the world.
“I hope today wasn’t too hard on you, Bell,” said his Grandfather, tone wrapped in a gentle voice. “I know you aren’t used to working on the land just yet.”
The tiny boy shook his head. “It was fun helping you, Grandpa.”
The aged face bore a smile before the thick fingers came down and rustled his hair affectionately. “That’s good. How about I tell you another story tonight?”
The smile that came across his face was like the blooming of a flower under the sun. “Can you tell me about the Argonaut again?”
“You really like that one, don’t you?” When Bell nodded his head like an excited puppy, his grandfather only chuckled a bit more before hoisting him onto his shoulders. “Let’s hurry home then.”
As Bell clung to his grandfather’s head, he looked back towards the setting sun. The light suddenly grew brighter. It swelled with radiance until it became so bright that it devoured the world…
And then the light dulled to become the glow of a magic stone lamp. Bell Cranel woke from his dream to find himself once more in the confines of the space beneath the Church. The place the Hestia Familia called home.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Grandpa lately, Bell realized as he sat up, causing the sheets clinging to him to slide down and pool around his waist as he looked down at his hands. The imagery of blood painting them flickered in his mind for a moment before the pale hue reasserted itself.
It had been a few days since he’d returned from Yharnam and fought the Silverback. Since then he’d been laying low, so to speak. He’d been so focused on the fight that he’d been ignorant of his surroundings and a large crowd had borne witness to his battle when he really didn’t want the attention right now.
Eina had visited to apologize for the incident after the first day and offered compensation on behalf of the Ganesha Familia for destroying the monster before it could cause more collateral damage and kill civilians. They were apparently taking responsibility for the incident and were working on reparations and repairs to the damage caused by the monsters, including Daedalus Street. They weren’t sure how all the monsters got loose, or why that one in specific had managed to slip away unnoticed until it attacked him, or even the identity of the thief who’d led him to that place. But they were still grateful he went above and beyond what was expected for an adventurer of his Level.
The goddess residing there called Penia also asked that her thanks be extended to the ‘Hero of the Street’ as they were apparently calling him. Bell wasn’t aware of that goddess, but Hestia seemed to know her from the reaction she gave. The moniker made his stomach turn and it took all the effort he could not frown when the two of them were watching him at the time.
After all, how could anyone at all call someone like me a Hero?
He hadn’t been thinking of the people around him when he fought the Silverback the second time. He was only thinking about how it stood between him and returning to his Hestia’s side. Not to mention how he’d left that Little Girl in Yharnam with no one else in the world to call family after plundering the echoes of her grandfather just so he could return to his family.
Maybe the dreams were meant to be a punishment for that. To have the memories of simple times when he had been at his happiest with his Grandpa, only to wake with the knowledge that those times were now gone forever. To never forget the pain his absence brought and be reminded of what he could never regain.
It’s probably what I deserve. He brought a hand to his head and let out a soft sigh as he gathered his thoughts. Then he looked at the clock, pulled aside the sheets, and stood up to stretch his body.
Even with the sins on his back weighing him down, Bell couldn’t keep hiding away in the Church. Even with the generous consideration of the Ganesha Familia, their finances were still tight. He had work to do and today was going to be a busy day given everything that he needed to do.
He had to go thank Syr for helping him get away that time. Then there was a meeting with the members of the Hephaestus and Takemikazuchi Familia that Hestia arranged to see if they had good enough compatibility. The news about the Silverback had likely given both a little more consideration of his talents, which would probably be the only good thing that came out of it.
Once he was limbered up and dressed, Bell left the confined comforts of the Church behind with his broken armor in his bag. The sun’s rays touched down and heated the stone streets while its radiance lit up the sky. The air was crisp as it whistled through the buildings that made up the cul-de-sac. Not a bad morning all things considered.
Yet, as he walked the path there was a slight sense of wariness in his stride. He found himself feeling more alert than before. The streets of Orario should be safe, yet that had been proven not to be the case.
The sense of unease he felt made him realize just how much he’d taken for granted the sense of safety he felt during the days prior to the Monster Feria. He wondered if this was how the people of Yharnam felt every day and night. Never knowing when a beast or giant rodent would pop out of the shadows to end their lives even before the night of the Hunt.
Calm down. He took a deep breath to try and rid himself of the tension he felt. That incident with the Silverback was probably just due to some unusual circumstances at the time. Even if it wasn’t, Bell wasn’t unarmed even if he didn’t carry his weapons with him at the moment.
The Messengers could retrieve his Hunter’s Pistol, Saw Cleaver, Saw Spear, Kirkhammer, or Gascoigne’s Axe from the Dream with a thought—no matter where he was. It was undeniably a convenience that he couldn’t exactly ignore.
But it did little to comfort him as he finally reached the Hostess of Fertility and walked through the doors, whereupon the ladies greeted him on sight.
“Bell, it’s been a few days,” Syr said, wearing her uniform that was a pale-green skirt and white blouse. There was an empty tray in her hand from delivering a plate of what looked to be sausages to a dwarf. “I was starting to worry I scared you off.”
“I was just laying low for a bit until things settled down,” he said. “I wanted to thank you for helping me get back home.”
Syr shook her head. “It was the least I could do since you only got caught up in it doing me a favor.”
“Mya, but who would have thought little white-hair could make a mess like that,” Arnya spoke up, leaning over his shoulder with a cheshire smile on her face as she gently poked his cheek. “You know they’re still talking about how brutal you were even now, meow~?”
Bell flinched slightly at that. “I… didn’t really have a choice at the time.”
“No one is questioning your actions, Mister Cranel,” Ryuu assured him as she walked past, having finished busing a table. “How you won doesn’t change the fact that you adapted to an unforeseen circumstance and prevailed against an opponent that was stronger than you, all while keeping those around you safe. It was admirable considering your short time as an Adventurer.”
Mama Mia nodded in agreement. “You fought. You won. Hold your head up with pride.”
“…Thank you,” he said, feeling a weight somewhat lifting off his shoulders.
“So, Bell, what are you up to today?” Syr asked. “Are you heading back to the Dungeon?”
“I plan to after handling some other things like getting my armor repaired,” he said. “I’ve been gone from it for a while now, so I don’t think I’ll go that deep inside. But I’ll probably be there until nightfall.”
“In that case, how about I give you a lunch to eat later on?” she offered. “Just give me a moment and I’ll get it from the back.”
Before he could say anything, she was already gone and came back with a basket that she held out for him with a soft smile on her face. He couldn’t find it in him to exactly refuse, while either willfully or blissfully ignorant of the pitying look that briefly crossed some of the girls’ faces as he accepted it. “Thanks. I’ll bring it back later tonight.”
That done, they bid him farewell and he set back out towards Babel from West Main.
Eventually, Bell made it to Central Park just outside of the white tower that rose to the sky. The cultivated greenery of the park, along with the numerous fountains that were constantly spouting crystalline water, made for a refreshing spot to take moment to relax. The westernmost fountain would serve as the meeting place.
Hestia had told him that Hephaestus mentioned one of her children would meet Bell here, but it’d be up to whoever it was if they wanted to form a party. Same with Takemikazuchi. It hadn’t been long since he’d arrived in Orario and, despite all of the horrible things that happened after the Minotaur, he was grateful for the chance to meet so many new people and interested in seeing just what it’d be like to fight alongside others.
Still, Bell honestly had some reservations about working with others due to the secrets he and his goddess shared about his status. He could pass off being able to retrieve his weapons and items from the Dream as a form of magic. It was rare for those who only recently obtained a Falna to have access to magic, but not unheard of.
But he’d need to avoid letting them know about the fact that blood was something that could mend his wounds or revitalize him if he could help it. No matter how he thought about it, there was just nothing good about how it looked. Besides, he shouldn’t take on any wounds if he could help it.
I’ll probably have to be careful with the Quicksilver and Blood Bullets too, he thought to himself with a sigh. The Hunter’s Pistol allowed him some range when it came to dealing with more annoying monsters that hovered out of his range. But… what if he shot a monster and didn’t kill it?
In the end, his blood was the same as that of the Hunters. There was a Beast dwelling deep inside of him as well, just like Gascoigne and Henryk. If he was careless and let someone else consume or come into contact with it, was there a chance that it’d turn whatever it flowed through into a Beast as well?
A shudder ran through his body when he thought back to the Minotaur that had killed him once before. If it had ran back into the depths after he’d shot out its eye, would it have become an even more terrifying blood-slathering monster? An Abnormal?
Deep in thought, Bell only realized that someone was closing in on him when their shadow offered shade from the sun. He looked up to see what looked to be a young man, at least a few years older than himself, with hair that was red like flames while being dressed in black. There was also a small box under one of his arms.
“You wouldn’t happen to be from the Hestia Familia, would you?” he asked. “I mean, Hephaestus mentioned I’d recognize you from your hair and eyes. But…”
“Y-Yes—” Bell stood up and nodded. “I’m Bell Cranel, part of the Hestia Familia. Are you, um, here to form a party with me?”
“Well, I’m hoping that’ll be the case,” he said. “When my goddess mentioned someone with white hair and red eyes killed that Silverback, I kind of pictured someone a little older. But it’s not like age matters much to Adventurers, right?”
He had a point. The Falna was the great equalizer. Even a child with one could, in theory, kill monsters five times their height with ease if their stats were high enough. Then he extended his unoccupied arm and held out his hand. “I’m Welf Crozzo.”
“Welf… Crozzo?” Bell froze for a moment. Then his voice picked up a notch. “Welf Crozzo, the blacksmith?”
Welf let out a sigh. “…Yeah. That one.”
[R-M]
“I can’t believe my luck!” the white-haired boy said with a smile as he slung off his bag. “I’ve wanted to meet you if I could!”
Hearing how ecstatic Bell sounded, Welf couldn’t help but feel a sense of apprehensiveness building up in his chest that was tinged by expectation. He had some hope that, with Bell supposedly being new to the city, he wouldn’t have heard of the Crozzo name. That cursed name that had more than once drew ire and expectation towards him that he hoped wouldn’t rear its ugly head once more.
Yet, it seemed that he wasn’t so lucky. The next thing he would do would be to ask for a magic sword no doubt. Better to get it over with now than drag it out. “Look, I’ll tell you right now I’m not making any Mag—”
The blacksmith’s words were cut short when Bell set the bag down on the edge of the fountain. The sound of rattling betrayed the contents that glimmered with dull-toned steel and battered metal. He recognized it, because what blacksmith couldn’t recognize their own work, and a lump formed in his throat as he swallowed the rest of his previous words and hesitantly asked, “Is that…my armor?”
White hair shifted as the younger boy nodded. “I wanted to see if I could get it repaired or replaced by more of your work later today, because of how beat-up it got during the fight against the Silverback. It helped me out a lot before that too.”
Welf set down the box he was holding on the edge of the fountain before slowly reaching into the bag next to it. He pulled out the chest-piece of the armor set and found that it had been put through no small amount of damage. It had only been a few days since the armor had been sold but it had seen more use in that time than some armors had seen in years.
“…This was literally the second armor that I sold,” Welf began, running his thumbs over the ragged and battered chest-piece. “I made it out of Metal Rabbit Hair, so it would be both durable and light. It was as high-quality as I could make it, but the price was set so that a beginner could afford it while covering the costs of manufacturing it. To see it like this is…”
Since the armor was sold through the storefront no names were exchanged, so he wasn’t privy to any information about the customer. He couldn’t ask them what they thought about it, or if any adjustments could have been made to make it more comfortable, or any special considerations.
The fact that it hadn’t been immediately returned had given him something of a sense of elation, but also sparked his curiosity as he’d wondered who it was that bought his armor and why they’d done it. Was it by chance or after some serious consideration? Was it because the quality was just right for the price range or the aesthetic of it?
It had to be Fate that the one who bought it was standing here in front of him to answer those questions. “Sorry I ruined it so soon. I…”
Bell trailed off when he noticed Welf slowly shaking his head.
“You used it in the battles you fought and came back alive,” he said. There was always a single question every blacksmith dreaded thinking about as they worked the forge: would this fulfill its purpose and keep the one who bought it alive? “That’s all that matters.”
Welf couldn’t guess that the chest-piece had saved Bell’s heart from being gouged out by a spear backed by inhuman strength. Or the fact that it caught some of the explosive fragments of fast-flying quicksilver that scoured the pristine surface. Or how it’d stopped him from being opened up from shoulder-to-hip by the fangs of a Saw Cleaver.
Likewise, Welf couldn’t even fathom how the forearm-guards had warded away claws that had shredded away half of the young adventurer’s innocent-looking face prior. Or how they kept him from losing his head to the axe of a Beast clad in the flesh of a man. Or even the fact that they’d held out against the steel teeth of a maddened Old Hunter.
The only thing he could tell was that the armor he’d crafted had saved the life of this adventurer more than once. It had held up as best it could until he was in a position to get back with his life intact. And it still hadn’t crumbled to dust despite all of that—a fact that brought a soft smile to his face.
The boy looked as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders before asking, “So, you think it’s possible to get it fixed?”
“Honestly, with it being in this condition, it’d be easier to just replace it,” Welf said after assessing the cumulative damage. Then he set the chest-piece down and reached over towards the box he’d brought with him. “I guess you really are in luck considering I was just going to put my latest version in the armor series on sale after the meetup was done.”
He removed the lid to show off his latest work. Since the armor Bell had bought was the first one that wasn’t returned right away, he’d decided to make a similar model one to it. The Pyonkichi Mk III was a little more durable than the first due to the composition of its materials making it thicker, with a few embellishments on it to make it somewhat more aesthetically pleasing.
Bell picked up the armor pieces and turned them in his arms. He seemed drawn to the pieces, pulled into the silvery glint of the morning sun being reflected off the polished surface of it. The blood-hued rubies on the wrist guards matched his eyes upon looking into them, almost like staring into a mirror.
“How much?” he asked, looking up to Welf with eager eyes.
The blacksmith struck a deal. “You can have them for free, if you’re willing to make a Direct Contract with me.”
Upon seeing the boy’s head tilt quizzically, he remembered that Bell had only been doing this for such a short time he likely wouldn’t know. So Welf explained the notion to him that in a direct contract the drops and loot from the Dungeon would be brought back to Welf, who would then use them to make things for Bell at a reduced cost. For adventurers at a low-level, the reduced price made armor and weapons more affordable so they could go deeper into the Dungeon, where they had a better chance to Level Up.
“Oh, that’s convenient,” Bell said. “But would it really be okay to make a contract with me? I haven’t gone that deep into the Dungeon, so the items I can bring back aren’t really that good.”
“And I’ve only gone down to the Tenth Floor and haven’t even unlocked my Blacksmith Developmental Ability yet,” Welf told him. “You’ve been down to the Fifth Floor at the very least, despite having been here only a little while, so from my perspective you’re moving pretty fast even though we’re both low-level Adventurers. Even so, we still have room grow and I think that’s part of why our Goddesses agreed to let us meet like that.”
Part of that was due to the fact that he wasn’t a dedicated adventurer. He was first and foremost a blacksmith, so his time was mostly spent in the forge rather than the depths of the Dungeon. But he had trouble joining parties because of his name and had reached the limits of what he could do alone, which was why when his goddess told him about the offer instead of the others in her Familia he’d jumped on the chance.
And he was rewarded by meeting the very person who bought his armor and used it to its fullest. More than anything Welf wanted this battle party to work out. “By the way, do you know who the third person we’ll be partying with will be?”
Bell looked up from the armor pieces that he was fitting onto himself. “It’s a member of the Takemikazuchi Familia. Their god is on good terms with Goddess, even though they both work for different potato puff stands. I think they’ll be here soon too.”
Welf hadn’t heard of the Familia before, so it was likely a small one. More so if their god worked in such a place. Even so, the prospect of being able to form a three-man cell was something he was looking forward to, so he tried to spot their potential ally when he saw a pair of eyes staring back at them.
It was a young woman approaching them. She had raven-black hair tied into a ponytail that contrasted her milk-white skin, the front of which draped and parted over eyes that were a shade of blue and purple. Her choice of clothing and weaponry reminded Welf of a little of Tsubaki’s, only with it being somewhat more modest and painted a shade lavender with a red shoulder-guard that had the emblem of a sword planted in the ground.
Her eyes settled onto Bell’s hair and she hesitated for a single step before walking towards them. Then she came to a stop in front of them and asked, “Are you Bell Cranel of the Hestia Familia and the member of the Hephaestus Familia?”
“That’s us,” Welf said. “And you must be our last party member?”
She nodded and gave a slight bow. “My name is Yamato Mikoto. I am of Lord Takemikazuchi’s Familia.”
[R-M]
Mikoto came at the agreed upon meeting place at the appointed time with her back straight as she took in the appearance of the two adventurers in front of her. It was at the behest of her Lord that she agreed to at least see if the formation of this party would be to the benefit of them all.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Mikoto,” said Hestia’s child as he looked up to her with a smile. The formality of his speech, the curvature of his face, and the brightness in his eyes gave her the impression of him being far less…imposing than the recent stories floating around would tell.
“I’m Welf Crozzo,” said the other adventurer. He flashed her a grin as he extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you too.”
As she shook it, she felt how calloused and rough they were. Not surprising given he was part of a Crafting Familia. It was a clear sign of his dedication to his craft at the very least, but she didn’t believe it was a perfect reflection one’s capabilities as an adventurer.
Even without forming a party, relationships between adventurers were fickle things at the best of times. But there was a reason mixed parties were complex things to form even in the short-term after all. You had to factor in the relationship between the gods and goddesses. Then there was the imbalance in experience. Last was the dispositions of their Familia members.
In the case of their deities, Lord Takemikazuchi held a friendship with the Goddess Hestia despite the fact that their potato snack stands were rivals. He did not seem particularly close to the Goddess Hephaestus, but there was no animosity. Hestia was seemingly close to her if the story about her staying with the former for a time after her arrival was true, and all three ultimately consented—so there wasn’t a problem there at present.
Next was the question of experience and disposition that Mikoto herself had to address as she broached the topic. “Forgive me for asking this abruptly but, since we are not familiar with one another very well, may we discuss matters like how long we have been exploring the Dungeon, the deepest floor we’ve explored, and our previous experience with parties?”
It was somewhat blunt outright asking them. But she felt it would be the best way to judge them. Since she’d arrived in Orario she had seen many kinds of adventurers. Those that boast of their strength and accomplishments, those that embellished their abilities, and so on. Letting them speak before she made judgement was paramount.
Hestia’s child spoke up first. “Ah, well… I’ve been an Adventurer for less a month now since I arrived in Orario. Since then I’ve only made it as far as the Sixth Floor. And this will be my first party.”
“You’re really selling yourself short,” Welf said. “Most people don’t make it that far down in months, let alone weeks.”
Bell only shook his head at the compliment and his tone of voice shift slightly to a somber one. “I think I was mostly just lucky. Both my advisor and Goddess warned me, but I didn’t really understand until a little while ago how reckless and dangerous it was doing that alone.”
…Neither were wrong. Most adventurers, or at least the ones who tended to live longer, paced themselves. Exploring the Dungeon was a gradual thing and so it was best to acclimate yourself towards becoming familiar to its habits while gaining experience during the earlier period, when the growth was accelerated.
That being said, going that deep after a few days was indeed reckless. More so when you were alone. Especially if he had no combat experience prior to arriving in Orario, as his goddess mentioned. Luck might have played a part in that, but the fact that he was still alive and whole after going that deep said something of skill and dedication as well.
The blacksmith scratched the back of his head. “Well, in my case, I’ve been here for seven years but I’ve only made it as far as the Tenth Floor. I’d like say that’s because I spent most of my time working in the forge since my Goddess only allows for us to put the best of our things on sale, but part of that’s due to an issue with forming a party.”
“Why’s that?” Bell asked. “From what I heard, most of the larger Familias form a party with other members, right?”
“That might be the case in Exploration-Type Familias, but with us it’s different…” He went silent as he closed his eyes and grabbed his chin in thought. “You probably don’t know, but we lower-level blacksmiths tend to have our work cut out for us in getting customers. It’s no lie when I say that sometimes we have to steal and undercut each other because there are so many of us and so few customers. Because of that forming a party between members of our Familia can be difficult at times, so we have to group up with people outside of it…”
After a moment, he opened them and looked to Bell. “I’ve been with a lot of different parties, but none of them has ended well. They would ask me to do something that I wasn’t comfortable doing. And when I refused, they’d try to leverage my status as a member of their party to get it. Because of that we would break apart on bad terms, but I honestly want this to work out for us.”
In other words, he was a serial party-jumper. It wasn’t strange for one person to move between them occasionally, to see if there was good compatibility. But doing so consistently and leaving on bad terms often meant that there was some kind of problem with the individual.
“Will whatever it is that caused the animosity between yourself and the others interfere with us while venturing into the Dungeon?” Mikoto asked.
He shook his head as he faced her. “It was centered around my role as a smith, not an Adventurer. I can pull my weight in the Dungeon.”
Were they perchance trying to get him to make them free equipment? Mikoto silently wondered. Equipment cost was a heavy expense for a smaller Familia and larger ones would have their own dedicated smiths to maintain their gear.
Regardless, he looked frank and firm in his gaze. The implication of what he told them was clear enough and he had to know how it sounded. Yet, the fact that he was openly admitting it when he didn’t have to meant he deserved the benefit of the doubt.
“I cannot judge your relationship with other groups in the past,” she said, crossing her arms. “I have no right to comment or pry into what happened with them either. Instead, I will look to contributions in the Dungeon.”
Bell agreed. “You don’t seem like a bad person and I doubt our goddesses would let us meet up like this if that was the case.”
“Thank you,” he said with a look of relief on his face. “Both of you. I won’t let you down.”
Next, it was Mikoto’s turn. “As for myself, I have been exploring the Dungeon since my Familia relocated to Orario two years ago. We are small with only six members, so we often partied with one another. But one of our members has achieved Level 2 and so we were able to go as deep as the Thirteenth Floor consistently.”
“That’s incredible,” Welf said earnestly while staring at her. “I’ve known Familias that never make it that deep despite being more than twice the size. Honestly, you can live relatively comfortably at that point without going much deeper as a smaller group.”
Mikoto only shook her head. Perhaps they could, if they simply kept the valis they earned for themselves. But it wasn’t just themselves they were supporting. “Leaving aside our financial circumstances, we have our own reasons for going as deeply as we do. ”
Perhaps out of respect for them not pressing him for further details, the blacksmith didn’t press further either. He merely nodded. “Either way, you’re probably the most experienced of us from the sounds of it. Are you going to be the party’s leader then?”
“So it would seem,” she settled on. If it was based purely on experience, Welf had the greatest in terms of years. However, he admitted that he was more dedicated to his craft and he often left parties because of incompatibility. Plus, he didn’t seem to want to call the shots so much as he simply wanted to be part of a party.
Likewise, Bell had less than a month’s worth of experience diving into the Dungeon and had only gone as far as the Sixth Floor. Plus, he had no experience with fighting in a group. That lack of experience was something that couldn’t be overlooked.
“Bell Cranel, I have heard that you managed to slay a Silverback,” she said. “But if we are to commit to this battle party we need to know the measure of your abilities personally, as well as demonstrate our own. Are you aware of what a three-man cell formation is?”
Bell shook his head.
“It’s a standard formation where one acts as the vanguard, the other covers them, and the last one provides rear support,” Welf explained. “The Vanguard would deal the initial offense, drawing the enemy aggression while their support prevents counterattacks and look for the opportunity to end the enemy as quickly as possible. The rear support usually brings up the rear using long-range weapons, preventing surprise attacks and holding onto healing items, but they need to be able to defend themselves and contribute.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” Bell said. “So which role are we all going to be?”
“We will determine that by the end of the day,” Mikoto declared while looking over to Babel. “For now, prepare yourselves. Before we take a risk that would dishonor my Lord, we’ll go down to the last floor that you ventured to so that we may see what you are capable of—the Sixth Floor.”
Fanfic Recommendation 94
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Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A Rising of the Shield Hero x Yakuza Crossover Fanfic
Summary: Post Song of Life Kiriyu is summoned through a ritual with the Vassal Weapon to become the Gauntlet Hero. With nothing left for him after faking his death at the end, how will the dragon rise to the defense of the Shield Hero.
A Rising of the Shield Hero Fanfic
Summary: Naofumi Iwatani was summoned to Melromarc as the Shield Hero. Everything looked great… until he overheard Itsuki and Motoyasu talking about parties sharing experience from kills. He then finds out some stuff from his help guide that Malty hadn’t told him about. In going to Malty to ask his questions, he eavesdrops on her conversation with a nun from the Church of the Three Heroes and learns more than what he wanted to hear. Not wanting to stay and wait to be arrested and tried unfairly, he runs away from the Capital. Now a criminal on the run, Naofumi has to do his best to avoid the Church and the King outside the waves. And find someone who, slave crest or not, will help him to overcome his own trials and pains past and present, and restore that which he thought he lost long ago. Hope.
Intrepid: 21-06 Madison – 21-07 Emma
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way.
A Fate Kaleid AU Fanfic
Summary: A chance decision leads to an unlikely discovery. The mention of a rumor leads to an unbelievable mystery. And the connection to a long forgotten family leads to an unforgettable experience. Welcome to Inaba, Yu Narukami… or should I say Shirou Emiya? (Co-Authored by Nameless Flame Wielder up to Ch.21)
A Fate Kaleid AU Fanfic
Summary: A Prisma Illya spin-off centered around Shirou Emiya receiving the Archer Class-card, only it syncs him up with the EMIYA Alter spirit.
A Pokemon Fanfiction
Summary: In a different life Ash looks on his world from an unique perspective.
A Pokemon Fanfic
Summary: Time travel, based on the Anime. So, the world ended. That’s bad news. Who best to get to fix it? Well, there is this guy with a track record in world saving… Not entirely serious. T rating may be overdoing it.
Fanfic Recommendation 92
My Fanfics
Busi goes Blue (or How To Be a Blue Mage In Eorzea) – Role Action: Addle
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A Rising of the Shield Hero x Yakuza Crossover Fanfic
Summary: Post Song of Life Kiriyu is summoned through a ritual with the Vassal Weapon to become the Gauntlet Hero. With nothing left for him after faking his death at the end, how will the dragon rise to the defense of the Shield Hero.
A Rising of the Shield Hero Fanfic
Summary: Naofumi Iwatani was summoned to Melromarc as the Shield Hero. Everything looked great… until he overheard Itsuki and Motoyasu talking about parties sharing experience from kills. He then finds out some stuff from his help guide that Malty hadn’t told him about. In going to Malty to ask his questions, he eavesdrops on her conversation with a nun from the Church of the Three Heroes and learns more than what he wanted to hear. Not wanting to stay and wait to be arrested and tried unfairly, he runs away from the Capital. Now a criminal on the run, Naofumi has to do his best to avoid the Church and the King outside the waves. And find someone who, slave crest or not, will help him to overcome his own trials and pains past and present, and restore that which he thought he lost long ago. Hope.
Intrepid: 21-04 Taylor – 21-05 Sophia
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way
A Pokemon Fanfiction
Summary: In a different life Ash looks on his world from an unique perspective.
A Fire Emblem Awakening x Fire Emblem Fates Crossover Fanfiction
Summary: The war is over, Nohr has won, and Corrin, ridden by guilt and grieving the loss of Azura, is a broken man. Yet the threat of the Invisible Dragon remains and now he moves against the weakened kingdoms. When a mysterious tactician and a princess appear, can Corrin rise past his grief and work with them to save both their worlds? Continues story of “A Future Broken”
A Fire Emblem Three Houses Fanfiction
Summary: Sothis made a mistake, for mortal hands could not wield the powers of a Goddess. Byleth stands alone, stagnant against the inexorable march of time, doomed to fail again and again.
Busi Goes Blue (or How to be a Blue Mage in Eorzea) – Role Action 1: Addle [FFXIV Fanfic]
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Addle
<-><-><-><-><->
Cocobusi had been mildly concerned about potentially learning the next spell
The day after dealing with the King Wespes, Cocobusi returned to the Drowning Wench. Not for the ale or food, but because there was an Independent Arms Mender. His outfit had gotten quite torn from the constant battles, and his cane battered up from his use of it as a blunt instrument.
“I’m honestly surprised the fabric ‘eld out this long,” said a Hyur woman named Leofrun as she inspected them. “I’ll repair it for ye at a low cost since the materials are little better than those used to make a ‘empen ‘alfrobe set. But, considering the nature o’ your business, you’d be well off purchasing more durable armor for yer adventures.”
“I suppose you might be right,” the neophyte Blue Mage conceded. The soul crystal did the majority of the work when it came to casting his spells, but the cane itself was useful in its own way. It didn’t need to be replaced at all, in theory.
But the clothing was a different story, given that through the use of crystals and other techniques it was entirely possible for them to be more durable than steel, provided they were properly attuned to the wielder. What he had now wasn’t good enough for future endeavors. “What would you recommend then?”
“A visit to ‘awker’s alley,” she said. “Old Iron Thunder will set you up with a proper attire, if it suits yer fancy.”
Heeding her advice, he left the Drowning Wench through the nearby lift, dropping him down into the Bulwark Hall that led to the Octant. The area around the massive aetheryte in the center of the plaza happened to be crowded with adventurers of all shapes and sizes, chattering and such. For some reason the number of adventurers in Limsa seemed so much larger than the number in Ul’dah. He could only presume it was because the sea afforded access to lands beyond the horizon as he ventured past them through the lower level of the city-state towards—Hawker’s Alley.
There he found the merchant that the mender had mentioned, who just so happened to have reasonable articles of clothing in stock that would be more suited to him. He ended up purchasing a Hempen Cloak, along with a set of Leather Ringbands, a Hempen Sash with matching Gaskins and Leather Boots. He even ended up being roped into talking to a nearby Jeweler and purchasing a Copper Wristlet and Bone Necklace to go with them, claiming they would be an improvement over what he had before.
And they weren’t wrong.
Cocobusi didn’t understand a lot of how Weavercraft and Goldsmithing worked, his trade was Alchemy after all, but he could feel the difference. He felt just a bit more protected. A little bit more clear of mind. It probably wasn’t too much better than what he had before but, considering how dangerous his search for spells had been so far, he should at least take the time to improve his chances of survival.
I may as well get the color dyed while I’m at it, he couldn’t help but think as he took all his newly purchased equipment with him towards the West Alley. There was apparently an individual known as Unsynrael the Dyemonger, who kept blue dye in stock. Though it wasn’t strictly necessary, Cocobusi felt that somehow his identity was tied to the color of the school of magic he found an affinity with, so he at least wanted the clothing he wore to carry that on as he upgraded his equipment.
It was when he passed through the small plaza that separated the East and West Alleys that he spotted the familiar bed of pink hair. The Plainsfolk Lalafell who he’d been partnered with more often than not was standing on a small stool in front of one of the stands, allowing her to reach the countertop as she had what was seemingly a heated conversation with a very large Sea Wolf Roegadyn.
Between the hustle and bustle of the foot traffic, he couldn’t make out what they were saying from a distance. But once he got closer it seemed like she was trying to negotiate a deal with him. Though, once he got close enough, they noticed him and the conversation stalled.
“What are you doing here?” the Arcanist asked. “Eavesdropping now?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just happened to hear your voice on my way to the dyemonger and wanted to ask what was going on.”
“My grimoire needs to be replaced,” she explained somewhat curtly. “Yesterday’s events burned though all my pages, and the wear and tear on it have gotten to the point where simply binding new pages to it won’t suffice. But the merchant here won’t give me a suitable deal and I won’ t be able to afford new garments if I do buy it.”
“If I gave you a discount when I haven’t others, it would be a disservice to the other adventurers who come to me,” he said in a somewhat exasperated tone. “More so if word gets around. I can’t risk my business because you want to scrimp by.”
“Well, it would be unfair if he simply gave you a discount and word got around,” Cocobusi admitted, causing the Roe to nod in approval while the Lalafell scowled. To assuage her temper, he quickly added, “But I can make you one if you’d like—as a thank-you for your help until now. That way you can focus on getting more durable clothing.”
She didn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice. “You? Make one?”
“I’m an Alchemist by trade,” he explained. “In fact, the entire reason I originally came here was to deliver a new grimoire I made for the acting guild mistress. Blue magic was something I happened to stumble upon, but it seems like the one who was selling the soul crystals is gone now.”
“Considering your so-called method of acquiring spells, I imagine he was either run out of town or thrown in a cell by the Yellowjackets. Still, if you say that you can do so, I shan’t refuse your offer to make me a Maple Picatrix then—the best you possibly can, in fact.”
He mulled it over, recalling what would be needed to make one. “I believe I have the necessary crystals in my room at the Mizzenmast Inn to work with, and I spotted a merchant in the East Alley with the lumber and log and yarn I need as well to make it. The biggest issue will be procuring the Enchanted Copper Ink. It requires Copper Sand to properly make, along with Beastkin Blood. If we were in Ul’dah, I could procure it from the Guild Supplier, but I don’t believe I’ve seen it sold here.”
“You’re scant out of luck there,” Faezghim said. “Such products are so narrow in use that most merchants won’t keep it in stock. Suppliers would rather sell to guilds for something like that.”
“I suspected as much…” He brought his hand to his chin in thought until something came to mind. “Oh! But I could extract it from the Weathered Grimoire you had through desynthesis, if you’d be willing to part with it.”
She tilted her head at that. “De…synthesis?”
“Ah, I suppose it isn’t common knowledge unless you’re a Disciple of the Hand. Basically, it’s a technique created by a well-renown Goblin with his own workshop in Thanalan. It allows us to break down things into the parts that make them up and sometimes the crystalized spiritbond energies of the crafter if they were really talented will manifest. Those are pretty rare though.”
The Arcanist just stared at him in silence as he finished, at a loss for words.
Faezghim sighed. “In short, he takes your old grimoire and breaks it down to get you the ink needed to make your new grimoire.”
“I-I understood that,” she claimed. “Still, is this ink really that important?”
Cocobusi nodded. “Yes, the ink acts as a really good conduit for aether. Not the best, but it does make it easier for those who are getting a feel for the flow of their magicks. Because of that, it’s actually integrated into the construction of the entire grimoire through when we use crystals to work the materials. So if I desynthesize your old grimoire, I can obtain enough ink to make your new one.”
She seemed almost hesitant, contemplating the offer silently for a moment. But she ultimately consented with a nod. “You aren’t the type to lie from what I’ve seen so far. And you have been somewhat helpful since we have worked together, so I am willing to entrust that you know what you are doing so long as I may watch.”
“That’s fine, though it won’t be very interesting,” he said. “Just let me take my clothes to the Dyemonger and then I will go purchase necessary materials. After that I’ll take the lift back up to the Drowning Wench.”
“It’d be faster to take the Aethernet Shard network given the amount of people,” the Arcanist pointed out. The foot traffic made it fairly easy for the smaller folk to have trouble getting around in the middle of the day.
“I haven’t attuned to any of them,” he said.
This time she sighed. “Even if you weren’t planning to stay long, its common practice for Adventurers to attune to every single one they can find. Next you’ll tell me you haven’t even attuned to the main Aetheryte.”
He looked away at that.
“Oh, for Twelve’s sake. You really are new at this, aren’t you?” She huffed before grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him along towards the Octant. “Going out into the field without attuning to the local Aetheryte is practically suicide.”
“It’s not that I don’t know that. It’s just that I don’t have the anima capacity to attune to them!”
“If you lacked the ability to attune then you wouldn’t have been able to cast those spells of yours,” the Arcanist replied, pulling the neophyte Blue Mage as close to the hovering crystal as possible before sticking his hand out. “Now, focus on the crystal. Feel the energy coming off it and then feel yourself becoming one with it.”
He was hesitant to do so. But the entire reason for him testing Blue Magic was to see if it could improve his anima capacity to an extent. The surest way to see if it was working would be if he was finally able to attune to one of the Aetherytes.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused on the crystal in front of him. There was a sensation in the air that seemed to pulse surrounding the crystal. Like a heartbeat. He reached out to it, matching his breath to the beat until he felt his body begin to thrum to it. The sensation grew faster and deeper until it felt almost like he was a part of it, hovering above a fast-moving current that surged just beneath the surface.
If he wanted to, he could just fall into it and… vanish…
His eyes snapped open before he followed that train of thought. Looking down at his outstretched hand, he said, “I think I felt a pull just now.”
“Then it was a success,” the Arcanist noted. “Aetherytes act as a beacon for traversing the Lifestream—”
“I did it!” He jumped up for joy and then embraced her. “I can finally attune to Aethertyes!”
Flustered, the Arcanist stumbled across her words until she finally demanded, “L-Let go of me already!”
Belatedly realizing he was invading her personal space, Cocobusi did so in a hurry. “Oh, I-I’m sorry. I was just so excited.”
She huffed. “As I was saying, consider this a sort of a lighthouse on the aetherial current of the Lifestream since your body’s aether now resonates with its frequency. If you have the fortitude to withstand such travel in the future, you’ll be able to focus on the frequency of it and your body will naturally be drawn to it from the great flow. In other words, Teleportation will become available to you.”
“That’ll be amazing,” he said, picturing himself blinking from one city-state to another in only a few moments. “I could travel all over Eorzea like that, couldn’t I?”
“Before getting any funny ideals in your head, I’d suggest getting a feel for how taxing it is before you try to go too far and end up taking a permanent swim in the Lifestream,” she warned him. “Regardless, let us hurry and get the materials you need. I expect that grimoire to be the absolute best I have laid my eyes on as compensation for having to explain all of this.”
“Sure thing,” he told her with a blooming smile on his face. “I’ll make you the best Maple Picatrix possible.”
True to his words, once he left his new garments to the Dyemonger to be painted a proper shade of blue and bought the materials, he took her back to his room where he had his tools. Even while traveling a Disciple of the Hand would carry the tools they needed, no different than an Adventurer would carry their weapons or foci. While minimal, the ability to manipulate aether allowed the usage of what would be considered techniques that could be used in the process of crafting.
“I can see you really did put in a lot of practice with this,” he said while turning her Weathered Grimoire in his grasp., before nodding to himself and then proceeding to hold it with both hands as he began threading his own aether through it. “The spiritbond you have with it is perfect.”
“What do you mean?” she asked from her perch in the chair that was in his room.
“Basically, you’ve used it so much that part of your own spirit has flowed into it,” he explained as he began to tug on that bond. Aether was the source of many mysteries, including the crystallization of experience. By gathering up that residual bond and forcing his own aether to compact it, it began to take on a solid shape until there was a bright flash. “Done!”
It was a blue sphere that was a bit rough around the edges, somewhat unrefined but it still had a radiance within it. He turned it over in his palms before brushing it against his sleeve and then handing it to her. “Here you go.”
“This is… a Materia, isn’t it?” she asked. “Some of the more accomplished Arcanist have them in their grimoire.”
He nodded. “Most people don’t know it, but Materia are essentially the crystalized essence of certain attributes found in the bond between oneself and their equipment. In other words, it’s proof that you’ve been trying hard with perfecting your craft and were attached to that grimoire. Since I have to destroy it to make you a new one, I figured I should at least crystalize that bond so that you’ll have something to remember it by.”
The Arcanist slowly reached out for it before taking it into her grasp. Her dark eyes softened as she looked down to it and she found herself perplexed before looking back up to the Alchemist as he prepared an empty bottle to gather the ink before he began the desynthesis process. Taking a deep breath, she asked a single question:
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Hm?” He looked up at that and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“I am aware of how I come across to other people and how demanding I can be,” she explained. “And I know I have trouble controlling my Carbuncle, and that has endangered us both. Yet, you have done nothing but assist me since we’ve been acquainted. Why is it?”
“Oh… that’s because I understand you’re trying your hardest,” he said. “I get that it can be frustrating when you start with something and seem to hit a wall. It was the same for me when I started out as an Alchemist. During times like that you need someone to offer you a helping hand, so I did.”
It was the same when he started out. His brothers supported him even though he couldn’t join them in thaumaturgy because of his deficiency. Even though his reasoning was to find a way to increase his aptitude through the alchemy, he still wouldn’t have made it that far without help.
“And besides, it’s not like you didn’t help me,” he continued. “I probably wouldn’t have been able to learn as much as I had if not for you helping me. So just consider this all my gratitude for everything before I return to Ul’dah and proof that I believe eventually you’ll be able to master your Carbuncle.”
That said, he proceeded to continue with the process. She watched as the Weathered Grimoire that she had been given starting out as an Arcanist disappeared, broken down while leaving behind only the ink. Then she lost track of time as he took the materials and shaped them using the crystals, fusing them together through synthesis until the new Maple Picatrix was done. “Finished!”
Her pink hair shifted as she handled it with stunned silence upon brushing her fingers against the surface. Sending her aether through it was smooth and fluid, leaving her to acknowledge it was probably one of the highest quality grimoire she’d handled in her life. “I… can’t accept this without giving you something else in return.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because it wouldn’t be right,” she insisted, tapping her head in thought as she tried to decide on what she could do for him. “Uh… oh, you don’t have a formal mentor when it comes to your magical studies, correct?”
“I suppose not,” Cocobusi said. “The spellbook gives me the basic understanding and method of acquiring the spells, and the soul crystal does most of the work.”
“Then, at the very least, I can share with you a standardized technique passed along to students of offensive magic,” she said. “It isn’t something that would require arcanima learning, but a relatively simple technique to use aether to hamper one’s ability to focus their spells and weaken their concentration—to Addle them, effectively.”
“I think I’ve heard my brothers mention something like that,” Cocobusi said. “I didn’t think that it’d be one of the standardized techniques, but if you’re willing to teach me I’d be happy to learn it.”
“Then let’s begin since you don’t have much time before you depart.” She hopped out of her chair and offered him her hand. “Also, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced to one another in spite of working together so often. I am Litata Lita.”
“That’s a nice name,” he said, extending his own hand. “I’m Cocobusi. Cocobusi Lolobusi.”
The two shook hands before her lecture began…
Fanfic Recommendation 91
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A Rising of the Shield Hero Fanfic
Summary: Naofumi Iwatani was summoned to Melromarc as the Shield Hero. Everything looked great… until he overheard Itsuki and Motoyasu talking about parties sharing experience from kills. He then finds out some stuff from his help guide that Malty hadn’t told him about. In going to Malty to ask his questions, he eavesdrops on her conversation with a nun from the Church of the Three Heroes and learns more than what he wanted to hear. Not wanting to stay and wait to be arrested and tried unfairly, he runs away from the Capital. Now a criminal on the run, Naofumi has to do his best to avoid the Church and the King outside the waves. And find someone who, slave crest or not, will help him to overcome his own trials and pains past and present, and restore that which he thought he lost long ago. Hope.
Intrepid: 21-01 Sophia – 21-03 Emma
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way
A Pokemon Fanfiction
Summary: In a different life Ash looks on his world from an unique perspective.
A Pokemon Fanfic
Summary: Time travel, based on the Anime. So, the world ended. That’s bad news. Who best to get to fix it? Well, there is this guy with a track record in world saving… Not entirely serious. T rating may be overdoing it.
A Fire Emblem Awakening x Fire Emblem Fates Crossover Fanfiction
Summary: The war is over, Nohr has won, and Corrin, ridden by guilt and grieving the loss of Azura, is a broken man. Yet the threat of the Invisible Dragon remains and now he moves against the weakened kingdoms. When a mysterious tactician and a princess appear, can Corrin rise past his grief and work with them to save both their worlds? Continues story of “A Future Broken”
A Fire Emblem Three Houses Fanfiction
Summary: Sothis made a mistake, for mortal hands could not wield the powers of a Goddess. Byleth stands alone, stagnant against the inexorable march of time, doomed to fail again and again.
A Fire Emblem Awakening Fanfiction
Summary: In one world, Robin died abandoned by those she thought friends, with the sword of her lover driven into her chest. In another world, a young man with no memories of his past was trusted to guide Ylisse in war. Given a new chance, the broken queen will make sure this young tactician survived, no matter the cost.
Fanfic Recommendation 90
My Fanfics
Busi goes Blue (or How To Be a Blue Mage In Eorzea) – Spell 4: Final Sting
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A Rising of the Shield Hero Fanfic
Summary: Naofumi Iwatani was summoned to Melromarc as the Shield Hero. Everything looked great… until he overheard Itsuki and Motoyasu talking about parties sharing experience from kills. He then finds out some stuff from his help guide that Malty hadn’t told him about. In going to Malty to ask his questions, he eavesdrops on her conversation with a nun from the Church of the Three Heroes and learns more than what he wanted to hear. Not wanting to stay and wait to be arrested and tried unfairly, he runs away from the Capital. Now a criminal on the run, Naofumi has to do his best to avoid the Church and the King outside the waves. And find someone who, slave crest or not, will help him to overcome his own trials and pains past and present, and restore that which he thought he lost long ago. Hope.
A Rising of the Shield Hero x Yu-Gi-Oh 5D’s Fanfic (One-Shot)
Summary: A retelling of the Sacred Duel and its Aftermath. However, instead of dueling with weapons, Naofumi and Motoyasu duel each other using something else. Monsters, spells, and trap cards. Who will prevail? The Deck of the Spear, or the Deck of the Shield? May the best deck win! Let’s Duel! RaphxFumi. Along with classic moments of Bitch being a Bitch
Intrepid: Interlude 20A – Access – Interlude 20B – The Vasils
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way
A Fate Kaleid AU Fanfic
Summary: A Prisma Illya spin-off centered around Shirou Emiya receiving the Archer Class-card, only it syncs him up with the EMIYA Alter spirit.
A Pokemon Fanfiction
Summary: In a different life Ash looks on his world from an unique perspective.
Busi Goes Blue (or How to be a Blue Mage in Eorzea) – Spell 4: Final Sting [FFXIV Fanfic]
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Final Sting
Among the spells that a Blue Mage can learn there are some that are more potent than others. Some would say they could surpass even Thaumaturgy in the sheer amount of raw destruction that they can unleash. However, such spells are usually reserved for the direst of circumstances, due to the fact that they draw upon the very aether that sustains one’s life and thus leaves said caster incapacitated.
One such spell happens to be what we will be outlining: Final Sting.
This spell works to convert the entirety of one’s anima into a concentrated aetherial poison that is forcibly driven into a single target, inflicting a massive amount of damage. Even the most fearsome of foe can be felled should they find themselves on the receiving end of this spell, but the steep price and incapacitation that follows means that it should never be used except as an absolute last resort.
While a number of vilekin of the Giant Hornet genus are capable of utilizing this lethal technique, the most feasible to obtain it from are located in the following region of Eorzea…
<-><-><-><-><->
Cocobusi had been mildly concerned about potentially learning the next spell that he could gain before his time in La Noscea came to an end. He may have been a fledgling adventurer as far as the others in the group he was traveling with were concerned, but he was first and foremost an Alchemist. He had obligations to the guild, and it was only because he’d taken an allowed leave of absence that he could pursue gaining his spells without consequence.
That being said, this spell appeared to be one of the more dangerous ones.
From what he could gather the spell worked by concentrating one’s aether and anima until it reached a dangerous level of density, transmuting it into a potent poison, and then forcibly driving it into a target utilizing pressure from contracting the aetheric channels. He already knew that it was possible for individuals to weave aether into a poisonous substance, and that a sudden influx of a dense concentration of aether into one’s body would cause a violent reaction. But he also knew that if what he was grasping was true, utilizing the spell would most likely leave him in a state that was similar as to what happened with Cocobuki if he used it—on the verge of death.
Having all the aetheric channels contracting at once due to the aether flowing through them being squeezed out would cause the body to go into shock nearly instantly. Even with a transfusion of aether or restorative magicks to get them back on their feet, the body would still take time to recuperate from the sudden shock. And that was for someone with the anima capacity to utilize such demanding spells like his brothers.
All the same, it was still a spell that he could learn—even if he had no immediate intention of using it.
That was why he’d traveled to Three-Malm Bend after he’d had more time to practice with his newest spell. He figured out both the range and casting time to prevent anymore mishaps, which proved wise considering there were a number of other adventurers who’d answered the calls of the Yellow Jackets this time for what seemed to be another seasonal culling. It was Giant Hornets this time.
Apparently there was a large number of vilekin because they built nests in the trees close to a checkpoint here. While they were normally only aggressive when you approached their hive, during this season some were known to grow so large that they could tower over a Hyur. And these “Kings” naturally sought to expand their hives while stirring up the local population of wespes into becoming much more aggressive, meaning that they had to be put down.
What incentivized the Adventurers was that the pay was much better due to the Culinarian Guild financing the reward, as in the aftermath they could harvest Honey from the hives with far less risk to themselves. Cocobusi saw it as the best opportunity to learn Final Sting, and so he’d prepared himself by using the last of his earnings from that cheese quest he took.
Of course, he couldn’t really be prepared for the chaos that it rapidly devolved into as he observed how quickly trouble arose when several parties of adventurers vied for the same prize. The portion of La Noscea they were in was something of a habitat for more passive monsters, but with so many spells and attacks going off haphazardly, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that stray shots would abound. And, once angered, the once-passive monsters had taken to the field resulting in a battle on multiple fronts.
In one such case earth shifted as it was rose from the ground, pooling together mid-air in front of a Conjurer’s Maple Crook. The densely packed soil was bound together into Stone, its grinding weight sent flying towards the upraised claw of a Megalocrab. It hammered into the limb that was in the midst of preparing to crush a Marauder that was trapped within its other set of pincers, fruitlessly trying to hack away at the hardened, green carapace without solid leverage, and knocked its attack astray before it could cave in their skull.
But the beast only responded by spitting out a weave of thick bubbles in her direction that frothed and sizzled as it coated the grass. The acrid scent of the digestive fluids turned hasty weapon was quite poignant, leaving the Conjurer to wisely step back. But in doing so her partner was left trapped between the jagged teeth and crushing finger of the claw, soon to be torn in half once the weave of protective aether around his skin that seemed to act as a Bulwark faltered.
Seeing their plight as he had several others to this point, Cocobusi prioritized helping them and an aetherial replica of the goblin explosive found its way into his hand. Then he gave a shout of warning to the pair before chucking the palm-sized bomb. “Incoming!”
BOOM!
The moment the explosion blew off the rear legs of the giant crab and it collapsed to the ground, they didn’t waste the chance. With a shout, the Marauder was suddenly wreathed in a bloom of aether that seemed to seethe from his skin as he began hacking away with his axe in a rage. The carapace covering the arm shattered with the single swing, cleaving through and severing the limb. Freed, he then proceeded bring the head of the heavy Cloud Axe down on its carapace over and over.
If the slashes before could chop wood, then the blows now would cleave through solid stone. The hard, chitin broke, green fragments and blood spraying as the axe struck the tender meat below. The wavekin let loose a shriek as it came out of its stagger and attempted to crush him with its remaining arm when another Stone slammed into it, finishing it off. Once the monster was dead, the Marauder fell to a knee and the Conjurer ran over to tend to the wounds he’d sustained.
They should be fine now, Cocobusi thought to himself before he caught a flicker of light-pink hair further out. It was the Arcanist he’d worked alongside a few times now, running after her Carbuncle as she attempted to participate in the hunt as well. He hoped the arcane construct wasn’t being too difficult to manage, given things were already chaotic enough as it was. He was tempted to follow after her to make sure, but a brief flash of light in the corner of his eyes pulled his attention elsewhere.
Specifically, towards a trio consisting of a Miqo’te Pugilist, a Hyur Gladiator, and a Lalafell Thaumaturge in the midst of struggling with some of the very Killer Wespes that he’d come to slay for their spell. That Flash he’d seen earlier must’ve been a technique that gathered aether on the weapon and transmuted it into light to blind an enemy. Though from what Cocobusi had heard in passing the Gladiator’s guild had stopped teaching it due to the fact that it could catch allies unaware as well.
The Pugilist, a young woman, was nursing a bleeding wound to her abdomen as she curled up on the ground. The Gladiator, a young man, was using his shield and sword to keep her safe as the Giant Hornets blindly attempted to sting him. As for the Thaumaturge, who looked to be somewhat older than the Blue Mage himself, he was currently being attacked by a Water Sprite.
Cocobusi suspected that they were all fresh from Ul’dah where, due to a shortage of those capable of restorative magicks compared to the other nations, a group of three would center their tactics around piling on a singular enemy and bringing them down quickly. Their original intention was probably to have the Thaumaturge use Sleep on the swarm and from there they would slay them one-by-one. But because of the Water Sprite had begun attacking the Thaumaturge, he couldn’t properly focus on shifting the polarity of his inner anima and so now he was left fumbling with his traveling pack to pull out an Ether while under attack.
His brothers often complained about how neophyte Thaumaturges tended to improperly manage their capacity for destructive spells at inopportune times. Bearing witness to the sprite pooling water-aspected aether into a ball and launching the Water spell hard enough that it knocked the Lalafell off his feet, despite the fact that he tried to block it with his Square Maple Shield, showed exactly why. Either way, he had to act now lest the situation worsen.
The novice Blue Mage cast the Bomb Toss spell once more, flinging it towards the Water Sprite. For a moment he held some concern that the sprite, being a minor elemental of the opposing element on the aetheric wheel to fire, would be unharmed by the explosion. But the explosive force still managed to rattle the sprite, its form undulating around the crystal shard that it used for a heart.
“Hurry and drink your Ether!” Cocobusi told the neophyte Thaumaturge as he then ran closer to the other group to assist them as well, pulling out a Potion. Casting the explosive spell for a third time, he flung it overhead towards the swarm of Killer Wespes as the blindness wore off.
BOOM!
When the explosion dazed the Giant Hornets, leaving them stunned for a few precious moments, the Gladiator took the chance to start slashing away at them. The obsidian edges of his Ash Macuahuitl ripped through one in a spray of visceral fluid before finding the head of another and caving it in. But as the Pugilist spared a glance in his direction and she saw him running towards them with the Potion in hand, she shouted, “Watch out!”
He didn’t get the meaning of the warning until he felt something hard and wet slam into his back, knocking Cocobusi off his feet and sending the Potion flying out of his grasp. Reunited with the sense of pain that he’d become a little too accustomed to since starting his adventuring career, he raised his head to see the cause of. The Water Sprite was drifting his way, having seemingly earned its enmity from the bombing.
He saw the next attack coming, a watery sphere being fired towards him like a cannonball. He barely rolled out of the way before it splashed down where he had been. Then he got back onto his feet and prepared himself for the next one when a bundle of frigid, ice-aspected aether from the umbral polarity hit the Water Sprite.
The Blizzard spell erupted into white ice and blue frost as it smashed into the watery mass. The cold began to subsume it as the Thaumaturge began another incantation and funneled his aether into Marbled Eye of the Copper Scepter that he wielded in his right hand. Not to be undone, Cocobusi dredged up the primal HUNGER for aether that he used to activate his Soul Crystal and proceeded to rip the aether from the Water Sprite.
The elemental was little more than a mass of somewhat aware aether, so Blood Drain took from the whole and rid it of element before flowing into him as the creature strained to keep itself together until the throbbing sphere of fire that had pooled around the Thaumaturge’s scepter was released. The moment the two elements met there was a violent burst of steam as the water that it had pooled together around the shard that was its heart evaporated. The Water Shard fell to the ground, the elemental’s awareness scattered.
That left the real threats, the Killer Wespes that the Gladiator and Pugilist were fending off. The sharpened point of a stinger scraped against his Bronze Hoplon as he parried a thrust for his head before shrouding it in aether and slamming it into the vilekin. The resulting shockwave as it discharged left it dazed long enough for the Pugilist to deliver a Snap Punch that caused it to collapse to the ground lifelessly.
Next, the Gladiator raised his leg and drove a kick into the abdomen of another vilekin, which sent another burst of aether through its body and stunning it. That bought him enough time to spin around with his weapon, cutting it down while the rest of the vilekin that were attacking him backed away to avoid more than a glancing cut from the obsidian points of his weapon.
The novice Blue Mage and neophyte Thaumaturge began casting to further turn the tide, giving a shout of warning that didn’t go unnoticed by the Pugilist. She called out to the Gladiator as incantations from one flowed freely from rote memory as while azure diamonds encircling the other created the aetherial construct of another goblin explosive. The Gladiator gathered aether onto the tip of his sword and released a blinding flash that robbed the compound eyes of their vision, before sprinting to get out of range as the Bomb Toss flew first.
BOOM!
The volatile construct of fire-aspected aether ruptured as it landed amidst the swarm, the explosion swallowing the giant hornets and stalling most of their wings from the shock. The Sleep spell from the Thaumaturge followed, robbing them of their consciousness. They laid on the ground in a deep, yet ephemeral slumber that was soon to be made permanent—with one exception, that was.
A single one escaped from the fringes of the blast, rushing out of the smoke as it sped towards the Thaumaturge in a frenzied haste, eager to claim his life. But the Gladiator sprinted to meet it midway and intercepted the point with his shield, guiding the killing thrust away as it scraped against the metal surface hard enough to scratch the surface deeply. The Pugilist followed up with another punch that was hard enough to knock it to the ground, whereupon the Gladiator stabbed it in the head.
Seeing they had that in hand as they turned their attention to the sleeping swarm to kill them off before they could wake, Cocobusi decided to keep moving to help where he could. Some of the adventurers were faring even worse than the two groups he’d thrown his lot in with so far. Those he attempted to buy time for so they could get away or supplied Potions to keep them alive, before they ended up amongst the dead.
“EEK!”
It was only after he finished dispatching another Water Sprite that had gotten too ambitious that the cry of a familiar voice reached his ears. It was the Arcanist he’d worked with before, pink hair and a fiery attitude. Only now she was in a pinch, clutching her grimoire to her chest and her Carbuncle missing while a trio of Killer Wespe fluttered towards her with lethal intention.
Acting quickly, Cocobusi focused on casting the Sticky Tongue spell and let loose the aetherial tongue. In the blink of an eye the Arcanist was crumpled on the ground in front of him while covered in the sticky, aetherially replicated toad saliva. A sound of disgust and frustration slipped out of her mouth as her gaze turned positively venomous when she noticed he was responsible.
He felt bad about getting her slimy, even though it’d dissipate soon enough. But he didn’t have time to really focus on that since the Killer Wespes were still keen on attacking. They were headed towards the pair now, closing the 25 yalms between them rather quickly. “You can yell at me later, but first we need to deal with this!”
“My book ran out of pages!” She held up what was left of her grimoire. Sure enough there were only a handful of pages left that were inside, all of them filled with inscriptions and formulae for her other spells. Since she used the extra pages as a medium for calling out her arcane entity, that meant she couldn’t summon anymore.
“Then get to safety!” he said before he ran forward to put distance between himself and her. She’d need time to get free and flee, and his options were limited as he mentally recounted his stock. I have two sleeping potions left. Will they be enough?
With little time to debate it, he tossed the bottles of Sleeping Potion towards a pair, leaving the glass to shatter on impact. The fluids within splashed over their exoskeletons and seeped in, leave them in a stupor as they drifted down to the ground. But the last one was closing in while preparing to jab at him with its stinger.
Out of other options, he focused on casting Bomb Toss once more and felt the anima pulled from deep within him forming the backbone of the spiraling diamonds as they siphoned and shaped ambient aether. Goblin explosive in hand yet again, he tossed it at the incoming monster right as it entered stabbing range.
BOOM!
The Blue Mage was knocked off his feet from the detonation being so close, bones shaking from the force of the explosion. But the vilekin swept up in the explosion took the worst of it, still on the ground and writhing about trying to get its wings working again. He found it in him to cast Energy Drain once before it managed to get up, ripping the aether out of its body violently before it retaliated by violently flailing about with its stinger.
There was a flash of pain and the sound of fabric tearing as a Sharp Sting caught his shoulder when he tried to parry the incoming stab. Blood seeped from the wound as he lashed out with the cane in his other hand, whacking it twice, only for it to retaliate by slamming into him reflexively. It managed to knock him onto his back while the cane flew from his grasp.
“Oww…” In pain, Cocobusi fumbled around for his cane for a moment only to see the stinger on its abdomen swaddled in a dense amount of aether. He realized that the wounded vilekin was getting ready to deliver the fatal sting right as it descended—
”Fire!”
—when a fireball slammed into the vilekin a moment before it could spear through his chest and deliver the venom into his heart. The flames swept away the burning husk of the Killer Wespe, smoldering bits and pieces raining down all around Cocobusi. He’d barely felt the minor shake in his pocket over the pounding in his chest as the Thaumaturge from before came over, scepter in one hand with smoke wafting off it.
“That was a close one,” he said, extending the other towards the downed Lalafell. “Can you stand?”
Cocobusi nodded and accepted the help getting up. “Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it,” the Thaumaturge said. “It would be ill of us if we left you to die while in aid of another, after benefiting from such ourselves.”
“Leaving a debt as such unchecked would catch up to us in Thal’s Halls when we got there,” the Gladiator from before said, now on his way over with the Pugilist. Their weapons were covered in fresh viscera, the sleeping pair of Killer Wespe slain as the one attacking him was blown to pieces. The immediate threat was over then.
“Not that we were in a rush to get there anytime soon,” the Pugilist quickly added, while bringing her hands together in gratitude. “Thanks for the Potion earlier, by the way. Though it looks like you could use one yourself now.”
She wasn’t wrong. The bleeding wound he had was still running, and he felt his bones aching from the proximity to his own explosion. “I used up all of my Potions helping others today, but they’ll mend in time.”
“A fool’s logic.” The sharp barb was followed by a familiar sensation washing over him. It was the soothing sense of his body mending through the workings of a Physick spell. He turned to see that the Arcanist was once more casting her healing magicks on him with an annoyed expression. “You are lucky that I am feeling generous in spite of what you did to me.”
He supposed she was still upset about covering her in slime. But the fact that she still saw fit to tend to his wounds left him grateful. “Thank you.”
“Hmph.” The Arcanist huffed as she turned away from him. “If you have to keep butting in, at least do it properly. There’s no point in playing the hero if you’re going to end up getting killed yourself.”
And with that said, she proceeded to walk off towards the direction of the Yellow Jackets. It seemed that the King Wespes had been successfully culled while they were preoccupied. All that was left was to help the wounded back to the city-state and collect their compensation for participation.
“We didn’t manage to get any of the juicy targets, so I doubt we’ll get much for all the trouble we went through,” the Pugilist said bitterly, ears and tail drooping. “I wanted enough to at least try one of the meals I’ve heard about at the Bismark.”
“As far as I’m concerned, so long as we get enough to fill the belly and a few pints that should be enough,” the Gladiator replied with a shrug of the shoulders. “Anything is better than the days of eating thrown-out scraps just to stop our bellies from aching.”
“I didn’t need the reminder,” she said, ears and tail rising in agitation. “The whole point in us becoming adventurers was to get away from all of that. That’s why we should keep trying something new every step of the way—right up until we make it big.”
“You two can debate on suitable cuisine with whatever our finances after we have replenished our supplies and repaired our equipment,” the Thaumaturge stated firmly, giving the impression that he’d had to do so beforehand a number of times. He then looked towards Cocobusi. “Once more, we thank you for your assistance. But do be a bit more careful in the future, yes?”
“Take care,” the Pugilist said with a cheery wave while the Gladiator gave him a nod. Then the three of them set off.
What a peculiar bunch they were, Cocobusi mused. From what he could gather the Hyur and Miqo’te were likely orphans or inhabitants of the slums prior to becoming adventurers. But the Lalafell seemed almost scholarly. How they’d met and formed a party was beyond him to grasp, but adventurers came in all sorts and from all different lots in life. I suppose I’m not exactly one in a position to judge either.
Besides, he really did owe them his gratitude. They‘d helped him in more ways than one, given the sensation he’d felt when the mage had killed the Killer Wespe attacking him. He’d gotten his fourth spell thanks to that, all that concentrated aether being violently released in such proximity practically guaranteeing it.
Shame I can’t actually use it, he thought to himself while brushing his hand over his pocket where the Soul Crystal was nestled. He would still meditate on it when he returned to his room, as he did the other spells, but chances were he’d never use it. The risk was simply too great for him to consider it under normal circumstances, especially with his low anima levels at the moment.
Still, even if it was a close call, he’d helped some others and earned a new spell.
That was good enough for the moment.
Fanfic Recommendation 89
My Fanfics
Rabbit of the Moon: Interlude 2 – Growing Insight of Three
Summary: In a different world, Bell Cranel died at the hands of the Minotaur on the Fifth Floor. The Moon Presence, searching for a new Hunter to bring the long night to an end, just so happened to stumble across his soul on the way to Heaven. Thus a contract was established.
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A Rising of the Shield Hero Fanfic
Summary: Naofumi Iwatani was summoned to Melromarc as the Shield Hero. Everything looked great… until he overheard Itsuki and Motoyasu talking about parties sharing experience from kills. He then finds out some stuff from his help guide that Malty hadn’t told him about. In going to Malty to ask his questions, he eavesdrops on her conversation with a nun from the Church of the Three Heroes and learns more than what he wanted to hear. Not wanting to stay and wait to be arrested and tried unfairly, he runs away from the Capital. Now a criminal on the run, Naofumi has to do his best to avoid the Church and the King outside the waves. And find someone who, slave crest or not, will help him to overcome his own trials and pains past and present, and restore that which he thought he lost long ago. Hope.
Intrepid: 20-08 Taylor – 20-10 Taylor
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way
Service with a Smile 61 – 62 (Complete)
A RWBY Fanfiction
Summary: When Jaune’s forged transcripts were rebuffed, his only option was to return home in disgrace or forge a new life in Vale. Opening a diner was an impetuous decision, being good at it a stroke of luck. Becoming the favourite haunt for students, teachers and criminals alike…? That was neither, but it sure did keep things interesting. Wasn’t the civilian life supposed to be easier?
A Pokemon Fanfiction
Summary: In a different life Ash looks on his world from an unique perspective.
A Pokemon Fanfic
Rabbit of the Moon: Interlude 2 [DanMachi/Bloodborne]
Interlude 2: The Growing Insight of Three
For a second time Aiz felt like she’d run straight into a brick wall. She’d been tasked with dealing with the last monster that had escaped—a Silverback—when a pungent scent met her head on. The aroma dug into her mind and clouded her thoughts for only a moment, but that still brought her sprint to an abrupt halt.
“Huh…” The sound of interest came from her Goddess next to her. “You can smell it too?”
“Yes.” Her eyes spanned the street, searching for the source of the scent she knew to be the boy that had killed the Minotaur. Her senses, augmented by her Level, attuned to the noise of the street until she heard a single set of running footfall and heavy pants, along with the moonscent—as Loki had told her—tinged with blood.
Then, once more, Bell Cranel came into view as he burst out of a side alley that was nearby. The young boy was covered in battle-ravaged leather that had been sheared and scraped to the point where bare skin and battered metal were on display. Sweat from exertion dotted his brow where strands of his white hair clung desperately.
Aiz let out a small groan and held a slender hand to her head that began to pound with his approach. She didn’t know what it was about him that she was feeling. She couldn’t know how to register it. All she could do was wait for him to pass by her without a word as he continued to flee, the pulsing sensation lessening somewhat as his footfalls continued past her.
“Ugh…” Loki was holding her nostrils closed, so her voice came out a bit childish as she said, “It’s pretty thick compared to at the tavern, huh?”
Aiz nodded as they turned and watched him continue to run until a girl emerged from a side-street and grabbed his hand, eliciting a brief look of shock on the boy’s face before recognition set in. Then words were exchanged, an offer to ‘help him escape from sight’ from what Aiz could hear, before she pulled him into the alley. The footfalls that she could hear belonging to them took them away from the Main Street.
“It’s strange,” Aiz settled on after a moment of thought. “But something about it… makes me nervous…”
“Hmm…” Loki crossed her arms and hummed lightly in thought. “Call it a hunch, but I feel it my bones that sumthin’ about its off too…”
As she contemplated that to herself, Aiz picked up on the activity on the street and how it seemed to have blossomed. People were excitedly talking about an adventurer dressed in leather who fought and slew a monster right in the plaza. She had her suspicions that it was the boy they were talking about, so she approached a pair of children that were in the middle of playing.
“Ah, excuse me?” she said, crouching down towards one of the children. “Could you tell me about what happened just now with a monster?”
The child didn’t hesitate. “It was amazing! This big monster went ‘RAAAHHH’ and tried to squish this white-haired mister with its big arms! But he was so fast, and he had this hammer that had a sword in it! He went ‘swish’ and blood flew everywhere, and the monster went ‘GAAHHH’ and then—”
Aiz listened on as he continued on in an excited manner until an adult called for him and he said goodbye. Then she turned back to her Goddess, who was conversing with an elderly woman. When the woman parted way, Loki cradled one arm while holding a hand to her chin.
“Suspicious…” Loki mused. “That young lady was kind enough to tell me a bit about what just happened. It seemed that boy killed the Silverback with a weapon that could go between a hammer and a sword, or something that he could call back to him even when separated. I’d say it’d be an enchanted weapon, but Cow Tits can’t afford sumthin’ like that. Could it possibly be some form of magic?”
It wasn’t unheard of that someone who was just given a Falna would have access to magic. Outside of a Grimoire it was something that seemed to happen sporadically, with some species being more likely to manifest it or exceptions like Aiz, who had Aerial since she received Loki’s blessing. For all they knew it was something the boy was capable of since he became an adventurer—he did kill a Monster that Level 2s would struggle against the first time she’d seen him, so a Silverback wouldn’t be that much of a threat.
But from the colorful way the boy had described the fight, it sounded like it had dragged out for a bit. That was strange, considering that someone who could kill a Minotaur should be able to kill a Silverback within mere seconds at worse. But, at the same time, she didn’t think it sounded like he was making a show of it when there was a chance of civilians being caught in the crossfire.
He didn’t seem all that polished when it came to fighting from what she’d seen the last time either. He wasn’t quite helpless and seemed to know enough not to wound himself with the butcher’s weapon he had, but he didn’t seem anywhere near expertise in terms of skill wielding it or when facing off against the Minotaur considering how sloppy his movements were. He’d barely avoided most of the hits and the ones he tried to block had broken through his guard utterly.
That was expected for the Upper Floors—in fact, it was almost what she’d expect from a new adventurer who hadn’t refined their combat skills out of the Dungeon like some of the former soldiers or hunters she’d seen. But against Silverbacks that lived close to the Middle Floors and the Minotaurs that came from the floors below it, that was another story. Simply surviving to the point that you could venture down there would require countless battles, during which you’d build up experience with fighting subconsciously.
So how did he manage to kill the Minotaur then? Her head began to ache as she thought back to it. He seemed almost confused that he’d managed to prevail, or the fact that he had the magic stone. Could it have been that he wasn’t aware of the fact that he’d done it?
Aiz thought back then when their eyes met. She didn’t quite grasp what she heard with the whispers that seemed to give her a headache, but before then she recalled thinking that his weapon was his fangs and his hands were his claws. The primal way he’d cried out as he ripped out its magic stone had been almost…bestial.
It didn’t really suit him at all from how timid and small he looked when not cloaked in tattered clothes, fresh blood, and broken steel. But somehow that was part of what caused her to feel on edge. Not completely, but the sensation that she was staring down a predator for that moment does seem close to how she could best describe it.
“Well, either way, the Silverback was taken care of and no civilians got hurt from the sound of it,” Loki said abruptly, changing the topic and pulling Aiz from her thoughts as the Goddess grasped her arm and pulled it against her smaller body. “Let’s go back to the others, Aizuu.”
“Ah… sure…” She nodded before turning on her heel and following after her Goddess. Bell Cranel was a mystery to Aiz now more than ever, but there were other mysteries she needed to focus on. Other things she needed to do and other people waiting for her.
She’d put the mystery of the Moon-scented Boy to the back of her mind for now.
[R-M]
Freya moaned softly as she cradled her head from the throbbing pressure that nestled itself right behind her eyes, a crystal ball situated on the table next to her. The cloak she normally wore out to avoid drawing the gaze of men and women by the virtue of her sheer beauty laid on her lap, unneeded. She’d rented out the entire restaurant for the moment in order to ensure her privacy while she observed her ploy at work.
It hadn’t been something she’d explicitly planned out. But rather a spontaneous opportunity that crossed her mind the moment that she noticed that Bell and Hestia were out for the festival and in possession of Syr’s Purse. The wheels in her mind began to whirl and she foresaw an opportunity to potentially lure out the one who stole her prize away from her.
After all, many of the Gods and Goddesses were out and about during the Monsterphilia. She was sure that the one who’d tainted his soul with that infuriating color would be too. If they’d come to Bell’s aid when he faced off against a monster within the Dungeon via some unknown means, then she was sure they’d do the same here.
She set the plan into motion within an hour. Her Familia had a collection of many talented individuals, all of whom had captured her eye to some extent. Pickpockets and swift runners among them were perfectly capable of pulling him away from Hestia and the Guild member, baiting him to a suitable stage that would be far enough from any meddling adventurer and freeing the others to act as a distraction—not that she intended for them to harm anyone intentionally.
She’d slipped into where they’d kept the monster and used her Charm to enthrall them after leaving the members of the Familia watching over them senseless. Men. Women. Monsters—the way her beauty ensorcelled them was simply overwhelming and she’d been careful not to be seen while having the monsters act as puppets, keeping the other Familia who would be out and about busy while the Silverback she’d chosen to be her instrument slipped away.
Her headache had begun shortly after that, before he’d engaged the Silverback while donning a coat and wielding a hammer that didn’t seem to suit him at all. For a brief moment, she had a flicker of a scene where he laid broken on the ground and bleeding as his own weapon was left lodged in his chest. It had been faint and fleeting, leaving her to assume it was her imagination of a possible outcome that awaited him.
Really, it would have been expected considering how short his tenure as an Adventurer had been so far. But it wasn’t that she wanted to kill him. After all, it had been so long since she’d felt such a strong attachment to someone at first sight. She should’ve snatched him right up rather than allowing him to pass her by, but she wanted to see him grow from a distance.
Alas, where there was love there was envy and jealousy. For someone to take what she claimed for herself was simply unacceptable. And so, as punishment, the boy would now become the bait by which Freya would find the one that dyed the unblemished color of his soul and laid claim to the one she’d seen first.
She’d use him to find them. Then she would break them. Take everything that was theirs and destroy them for daring to take what she’d claimed for herself while reveling in the carnage—she was a Goddess of Love and War in equal parts after all.
Loki had said that she smelled the scent of the moon on him when they talked the night of the banquet. There were few who descended and held dominion over the moon, thus few who could grace him with their presence—likely being either Artemis or Achelois.
She had her doubts that it was Artemis, even if she knew that the goddess was on friendly terms with Hestia. Not only was she the head of a Hunting Familia that was far beyond the walls of Orario, which Hermes confirmed once she coaxed him into talking, but her Familia’s policies were well-known in regards to men and love. Men were never allowed to join, and those seeking to start a relationship had to leave the Familia behind. The thought that she would somehow bless Bell shortly after his arrival in Orario was too farfetched.
That only left Achelois. She was a minor goddess who had seemingly all but vanished some time ago. Freya hadn’t paid the disappearance any thought until now, given that the woman was struggling to simply find followers and simply wasn’t of interest to her. But considering the circumstances…
Well, perhaps she should put some effort into finding out just where she’d vanished to?
Either way, as her headache began upon dismissing that vivid imagery, Bell revealed he possessed a magic that she had been unaware of. A method by which he could call his arms and items to him. There were magical items that could do so, but she had the distinct feeling that it was magic.
More than that, there as something unique about it. When he called for his weapon, she could have sworn she’d something there. Thin, translucent things anxiously and eagerly groping the weapons from where space seemed to ripple around him.
Her head shuddered thinking about it. And the pressure behind her eyes felt like it was a living thing, squirming softly. She needed a moment of peace and quiet to get herself together and wait for it to pass.
A few hours to settle her head…
[R-M]
Hestia had her suspicions that something was amiss when that silver-haired woman approached both her and Eina by the coliseum.
Not because she was suspicious in herself. But because of the faint trace of a familiar moon-scented fragrance that was on her. It set off warning bells and a sense of dread gnawed at Hestia’s stomach.
Then the young woman pulled out her purse. It was the one that had been stolen from them, only now it was steeped in the scent of the moon. Hestia had realized in that instant that he’d died again, and only learned how once the young woman showed them the a magic stone that had been cleaved in half and explained that Bell had slain the Silverback.
He’d died again. He’d been sent back to that place again. He’d died and returned again.
And she’d failed to notice again until it was too late.
The moment she realized that, Hestia felt her legs lose strength and collapsed onto her knees. Eina had asked if she was okay, but Hestia only wanted to know where her child was. The moment the young woman said that she helped him slip away from the crowd so that he could go back home, Hestia made her way back there without a second thought.
It was there she found Bell.
Light spilled down from the windows to illuminate his white hair that was pattered with dull red from blood. Next to him on the pew was discarded leather clothing and battered armor that looked to be in horrendous condition, silently telling an adventurer’s tale of trials and tribulations. He sat with his face buried in his hands, quietly muttering between labored breaths and sobbing to himself.
She treaded carefully, feeling her heart breaking when she recalled how happy he looked the day he first set out to the Dungeon. There had been a smile on his face that could melt the coldest of hearts not even two weeks ago, sweetly complimenting the young boy eager to answer the call of adventure and become a hero. The moment she came to a stop in front of him and laid her hands onto shoulders, Bell’s arms snaked around her slender figure and he buried his face against her.
“Goddess… forgive me…” his voice came out hoarse and worn. His body shuddered as he wept. “Forgive me.”
Feeling the stinging tears in her eyes now, Hestia didn’t allow herself to cry. Not when he needed her to be strong. She wiped away her own forming tears and then forced a smile as she gently brushed his hair to console him. “It’ll be okay, Bell.”
After that Bell took a shower before he confessed what had happened in the confines of their room. He confessed to her of the Little Girl and her request; his attempt to fulfill the wish of a child who was left all alone. He confessed of Gascoigne and Viola; a husband and wife torn apart by the curse of Beasthood. He confessed of the Dweller and Henryk; an attempt to do good leaving a child with no family left in the world.
She’d listened to it all before peering into his Falna as he laid prone in bed, unraveling what he lacked the heart or mind to tell her outright. The foreign words hammered into her mind of a tragic tale writ with blood and regret, images that left the scenes to come to mind with a vividness as if she was there at some point. It hurt enough that she felt pulsing pain in her skull, but it was nothing compared to what Bell had undergone.
She owed it to her child to accept his story and his pain. It was the least she could do for him. For that reason, Hestia bore with the sensation writhing over her brain, all so that she could learn and could gain the wisdom needed to help Bell.
Taking in his sorrow and grief, his tribulations and triumphs, she immersed herself in his tale. She took in the details that may have escaped his mind, grabbing hold of whatever knowledge he’d taken it and committing it to her own memory. It was only when she’d read his tale from that faithful Minotaur attack until before they’d reunited above that she pulled herself free of the engrossing tragedy…
Only to find that Bell had fallen asleep beneath her.
She looked towards the clock. It was nearing midnight. The entire day had been lost to her, and the moment she realized that the exhaustion caught up to her all at once.
Her mind was weary from the knowledge. Her body sore from sitting in place for hours on end, hunched over Bell’s backside and head angled down to read his story. The allure of sleep was too strong to resist for her as well, another downside to being relegated to a physical form.
Limited as she was to her mortal body, Hestia could only do so little for Bell. How she yearned to unleash her Arcanum and free him from the shackles that bound him to that nightmarish world. But after peering so deeply she understood that doing so would rob him of the solace that her presence would bring him.
Steeped as he was in loneliness and regret, Bell clung to her as family and found meaning in the life they now shared together. He would never forgive himself if she gave up her life here to liberate him from that nightmare. And she would never forgive herself for leaving him in such a state.
There has to be another way to free you and remain together, Hestia thought to herself as she laid next to Bell on the bed and gently brushed his cheeks. I promise I’ll find it for you, Bell. No matter what.
[R-M]
Bell Cranel
Level One
Strength: F-392 > C-601
Defense: F-373 > D-592
Dexterity: I-96 > F-321
Agility: E-487 > A-903
Magic: I-0
Skills:
Blessing of Flora
Beasthood
Heir (Murky)
Fanfic Recommendation 88
My Fanfics
Busi Goes Blue – Spell 3: Bomb Toss
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Calling Card: Interlude 4 – Commander of Control Tower #7
Summary: Shinji Matou had been looking to redeem himself after the Holy Grail War, but wasn’t certain how to. Then he learned about a crimson calling card labeled Psyren. Saving the future would be a good starting point. A pseudo-crossover using elements of Psyren, it will contain characters from several Nasuverse works, including Tsukihime. Based on a Challenge by FateOnline.
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A Rising of the Shield Hero x Yakuza Crossover Fanfic
Summary: Post Song of Life Kiriyu is summoned through a ritual with the Vassal Weapon to become the Gauntlet Hero. With nothing left for him after faking his death at the end, how will the dragon rise to the defense of the Shield Hero.
Intrepid: 20-06 Madison – 20-07 Sophia
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way
A RWBY Fanfiction
Summary: When Jaune’s forged transcripts were rebuffed, his only option was to return home in disgrace or forge a new life in Vale. Opening a diner was an impetuous decision, being good at it a stroke of luck. Becoming the favourite haunt for students, teachers and criminals alike…? That was neither, but it sure did keep things interesting. Wasn’t the civilian life supposed to be easier?
A Pokemon Fanfiction
Summary: In a different life Ash looks on his world from an unique perspective.
A Pokemon Fanfic
A Pokemon Fanfic
Summary: Time travel, based on the Anime. So, the world ended. That’s bad news. Who best to get to fix it? Well, there is this guy with a track record in world saving… Not entirely serious. T rating may be overdoing it.
A Fire Emblem Awakening x Fire Emblem Fates Crossover Fanfiction
Summary: The war is over, Nohr has won, and Corrin, ridden by guilt and grieving the loss of Azura, is a broken man. Yet the threat of the Invisible Dragon remains and now he moves against the weakened kingdoms. When a mysterious tactician and a princess appear, can Corrin rise past his grief and work with them to save both their worlds? Continues story of “A Future Broken”
Calling Card (Psyren x FSN -Nasuverse): Interlude 4 – Commander of Control Tower #7
Interlude 4 – Commander of Control Tower #7
In the heart of what was once the country of Japan was a Siren Tower unlike any other.
It stood far taller than the eight others over the continent, a massive structure whose tip nearly touched the ashen sky. Its circumference spanned a small city, wrought of alien steel interlaced with a crystalline substance and could easily be mistaken for a mountain that one day appeared where before where only flat lands existed. Unlike the others that were also outposts housing detachment of Taboo and Homunculi, designated to scour the ruins for the Resistance and overseeing the terraforming progress, and far exceeded those in size due to the various functions that needed to be carried out.
And unlike every other building crafted by the hands of man, it wouldn’t be subject to the erosion and the changes in the laws of nature caused by the Rebirth.
It was the Control Tower responsible for keeping the ashen sky over Japan in place with the eight smaller ones acting as relays, meant to extend the emission and form a net to keep the skies obfuscated. It not only blocked the sun’s rays from touching the surface, but stimulated the development of PSI and empowered the cores that the Taboo used to function. It was easily the most important tactical structure within Japan—and so naturally you’d presume that the one in charge of it was the most important figure in Japan.
Yet that same figure was left kneeling in the private chamber of the Communications Room located near the top of the tower. The room acted as a hub for personal communication between Control Towers on the other continents, backed by the relay towers with technology that could empower PSI. It even allowed for projections of individuals akin to holograms at vast distances with little strain on the user.
It was before one of these projections that the Head of Control Tower #7 bowed towards one of the Millennial Commander as he finished his report.
“I cannot say that I am surprised that you would report only failure once more.”
Bitterness stung the back of kneeling man’s throat as the scathing words felt like a weight pressing down on him. There was no surprise in the words, as if it was expectant that he would have nothing to show even before the appointed time to make his report arrived. After all, this Millennial Commander had never hidden the disdain he felt towards those of his race even before the Appointed Date arrived and heralded the arrival of a new age.
Head raised, he spoke up in his own defense. “We nearly had her this time, but the Resistance intervened again. The Traitor has trained them well and their numbers seem to grow by the day. But we’ve already narrowed down her hiding place and my secret weapon has finished its cultivation. We’ll have the Vampire in our grasp soon—you have my word.”
The declaration was met with irritating sound, a cross between a scoff and chuckle. “As if the word of a rat who boarded the ark and is too cowardly to hunt down those who would despoil their future paradise himself holds any weight. It’s only because of your relation to the Council of Elders, and the fact that you were in those backwoods, that you were given governance of that tower—a decision that has proven time and again to be a mistake.”
“I… I’ll be heading out myself this time,” he said, bowing his head in supplication and his voice stale. “Eltnam Atlasia will be caught. The Resistance will be crushed. I will gamble my life on it.”
“Hmph. You’ll forgive me if I doubt that… but the alternative is that I would have to travel there to intervene directly. And if I must take time out of my own duties to ensure that we have the key to Atlas and dealing with the parasite that hinders the paradise we’ve been chosen to bring about… well, I won’t hesitate to show my displeasure.”
And with that the projection vanished, leaving only oppressive silence and oily darkness in the sealed room.
The moment he was left alone in the room, the mask broke. The placid visage gave way to an ugly scowl as the man rose from his bow and spat towards the projector. “How dare he speak to me like that?”
He’d expected to be chastised for his failure given the importance of the task. The Vampire held the key to a tool that would accelerate their plans by dealing with that thing in what had once been South America. The fact that she was in his territory than one of the others dictated it would be his duty to apprehend her while they tended to the other unexpected factors that were not accounted for when they put their plan into motion.
But for the Butcher of the Church to be the one who talked down to him was demeaning. He was not of their family, the ones who’d been chosen to herald the impending change upon the world. How he received the blessing of the star and became one of the Millennial Commanders was beyond comprehension.
“Soon, I’ll show him.” Straightening his suit, he exited the private chamber and entered the main section of the Communications Room, where roughly a dozen set of crimson eyes were in the process of handling communications between the relay towers. Screens and computer systems were linked to tanks filled with oxygenated and amniotic fluids, where deformed homunculus with cerebral matter accounting for 60% of their body acted as the central command of the brainwave network. They filtered the information they received from their counterparts in each of the relay tower, which were linked to those sent into the field and created a network.
Leaving them to their work, he moved over towards the elevator that was at the far end of the room and rode it down towards the bottom floor. That was where his project was currently underway. His secret weapon to finally capturing that Vampire once and for all before hunting down the Traitor.
“…Tch…” He found himself clenching his teeth at the thought of the Traitor. A member of the family closest to the Supreme Commander was arguably the biggest source of his headache at the moment. It was his teaching of the Resistance that was ruining everything here more so than anywhere else.
The loss of the Homunculi was inconsequential as they could always make more of them. But the Terraformer that was killed was a different story, as their role in wiping away the current world and progressing to the next was why he’d sent out the homunculi from the Life Propagation division to guard it as backup. Another could be cultivated to replace it, but it would take time that would allow the Traitor to continue to expand his army against them and hinder their plans even further.
But it also presented an opportunity. If he could capture the Vampire and uproot the Traitor, then he’d be able to solve two of the biggest hindrances to their grand designs. He could even potentially rise to the rank of a Millennial Commander and receive the recognition he deserved, hence why he’d begun his own ambitious plan—despite having only limited resources on-hand because they wouldn’t sponsor his pet project.
As the elevator came to a stop on the bottom level and the door slid open, a shriek rang out from the end of the corridor. It wasn’t an ordinary sound that clawed at only the ears, but one that gnawed at the mind. Like nails scraping against his brain matter, points raking at the creases and tearing out chunks as they drove in knives of pain and anguish like a wailing woman.
He shook his head vigorously as he layered his own mental defense against the telepathic cry until it was quelled and marched down the corridor until he reached the door leading to the chamber where it came from. Striding over to the edge of the railing, he looked down to the bottom floor at the vessel that housed the creation that birthed the cry.
Reinforced, crystalline glass was stained red and bright green fluid that bubbled within the vessel was tinged with the hue of blood as the corpse of a homunculus had fallen into the lid that had been opened to make an adjustment. The white uniform that matched its ivory skin was shredded beneath the breasts as entrails hung loose before the body was mashed against the glass hard enough that it became nothing more than a stain.
An annoyed grumble bubbled up in his throat as he moved over to one of the homunculus operating the control panel and grasped her by the neck to demand, “What fool forgot to administer the sedative before attempting to make any adjustments!?”
“We administered the prescribed dosage,” she claimed. “But it seemed that the last modifications rendered it less effective. In addition, the rampant Trance emissions are making it difficult to transmit the signal to the core and force it into hibernation mode.”
He clicked his tongue before releasing her, leaving the homunculus to fall onto the ground as he straightened himself out. “Flood the vessel with a higher dosage and increase the temperature and pressure so that it penetrates the epidermis. Then make the final adjustments so that we can field it within the next 24 hours.”
The Homunculus tried to tell him that doing so would be ill-advised, given the subject had shown some resilience to the mental conditioning and the functionality of the core not being optimal due to the irregularities, meaning its estimated lifespan outside of the control environment would be drastically short. But he brushed it off.
As long as it lasted long enough to get the job done, that was all that mattered.
Busi Goes Blue (or How to be a Blue Mage in Eorzea) – Spell 3: Bomb Toss [FFXIV Fanfic]
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Bomb Toss
To the nascent Blue Mage, one might be surprised to learn that it is possible to gain Blue Magic that allows one to aetherially replicate the functionality of mechanical devices. For example, take the explosives frequently favored by Goblins for the fiery punch they pack. Through the same means of acquisition used to obtain other spells, you can gain access to the ability to chuck similar explosives with the aptly named spell: Bomb Toss.
Now, it may seem strange that one of the Spoken races are capable of granting Blue Magic as monsters would upon death. But keep in mind that one’s aether contains not only the force of one’s life, but has the experiences and memories imprinted upon them. For Goblins, whom are often taught to create their preferred explosives through magically enhanced gunpowder at a young age, it would be nearly instinctive.
Now, while Goblins can be found all over Eorzea, different tribes of Goblins use different methods. Those that attune best to the Soul Crystal are those commonly found in Middle La Noscea, though a particularly lawless cadre of goblins belonging to their tribe have been seen in the Twelveswood…
<-><-><-><-><->
“Ahhh!” Cocobusi shouted in alarm as he rushed towards a large, outcropped boulder. His tiny legs worked themselves at a frantic pace to reach the stout stone before he dove behind it. Then he huddled over and braced himself as a moment later the explosions rang out.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The goblin explosives tore the ground on the other side of his cover apart with surprising force. Soil and burned grass pelted his hat as they rained down, blasted up by the concussive force hidden within the tiny bombs. He could feel his teeth rattling as he brushed it off while shooting a glance to other person taking shelter behind the boulder.
The Lalafell whose name he never did get was huddled over, clutching her Weathered Grimoire overhead to stop any pebbles from hitting her in the head. She felt the weight of his stare upon her and pouted. “This isn’t my fault!”
“Never said it was.” At least not out loud anyway. The job in itself was supposed to be simple. A group of Goblins had apparently robbed a merchant caravan and stolen a crate of cheeses that had been meant for the Culinarian Guild. But because her familiar jumped the gun their attempt to get back the crate without being caught went poorly, to say the least.
“You no take cheese!” the Goblin barked. “Cheese belong to Goblins! Not uppity uplanders.”
“That cheese doesn’t belong to you!” Cocobusi shouted back, peeking over the edge of the rock. Even though he said that, he could see that the three Goblins were still getting ready to cart their stolen goods away. He turned back to the Arcanist and spotted her drawing on the pages of her grimoire once more. “They’re going to get away at this rate.”
“Then do something!” She glared up from getting ready to summon her Carbuncle only for her eyes to go wide as she pointed behind him. “Look out!”
He whipped his head around to see that one of the Goblins was there, having broken from their group in order to try and stab him with a knife. Cocobusi immediately threw himself to the side as it stabbed at him, only for a Ruin spell to slam into the Goblin and knock it back. He followed up by reaching out with his Blood Drain spell and proceeded to rip the aether out of its body, leaving the Goblin to jerk violently and shudder.
But it didn’t kill it. The Goblin instead gripped its knife tighter and attempted to slash with it, cutting into his arm and drawing blood as he drew back and instead whacked the Goblin with his cane as if it were a club. The Goblin’s head whipped around before another Ruin spell burst against its body and it went still, knife flopping out of its hand.
Cocobusi sucked in a sharp breath at the wound. It stung but he could manage for now. So, he looked around to the other side of the boulder to see they were beginning to move with the stolen crate. “We have to go now, or we’ll lose them.”
“Done!” She shouted, ripping the page out of her Weathered Grimoire and using it to call forth her Carbuncle. “Go fetch the Goblins!”
It gave her a curious tilt of the head before looking off towards the fallen Goblin.
“The other ones,” she clarified, pointing off towards the pair. It deigned to listen to her this time, making an aggressive squeak before it darted off. The Arcanist then turned to him and gestured for him to follow. “Come on!”
He broke from his cover as the Emerald Carbuncle drew upon the winds as it darted forward, squealing before it let fly a Backdraft that knocked one of the remaining two Goblins away from the crate and leaving the other to drop it. The Carbuncle then moved to attack, leaving the last one to glare at them through its mask as it pulled out another bomb.
“Not this time!” Cocobusi said as the azure diamonds encircled him. Aether gathered in his mouth until his cheeks were bulging, before he spat out an aetherial Sticky Tongue that latched onto the final Goblin and snapped him forward until he was pinned to the ground in front of Cocobusi, the adhesive fluids leaving him trapped…along with the bomb. “Gah!”
He turned to book it as far from the Goblin as he could—
BOOM!!
—and barely made it out of the death radius of the explosion as the diminished force of it sent him sprawling into the dirt. He came to a tumbling stop, his small body left prone on the ground and a small moan of pain slipping out of his mouth. Along with a slight quiver in his pocket. “I… did… it…”
“If by that you mean nearly blow yourself up, you did an adequate job.” The Arcanist’s voice rang out from somewhere close-by. He barely managed to turn his head from the dirt to see her hovering over him with book outstretched, magic in the work. “Hold still.”
He felt the broken skin and battered cells begin to rebuild themselves, his body mending and the pain dying. His strength returned, allowing him to get back up to his feet slowly. He dusted himself off, noting that his garments were in need of a mender, and then thanked her. “Thanks.”
She turned her nose up to him. “It wouldn’t look good if you got yourself killed on such a simple job. Speaking of which, what kind of disgusting spell was that? It reminded me an awful lot of those slimy toads we had to contend with.”
“That’s because it’s a Blue Magic spell derived from them,” he explained, pulling out the Soul Crystal to show her. “Unlike my brothers, I can’t use thaumaturgy because I don’t have enough anima to use spells from most of the other schools of magic. But I discovered that I can use Blue Magic to copy the spells of monsters, due to the fact that it costs so little of my own anima as long as I have a Soul Crystal.”
She looked at the crystal with skeptical eyes as she processed the information. “That sounds like rubbish to me.”
“I’ll show you,” he closed his eyes and tightened his fingers around the Soul Crystal. “Just now, I felt it quiver when that Goblin got caught in his own explosion. That should mean I can use the Bomb Toss spell once I attune it…”
What was the Goblin’s reasoning for creating their bombs? It was a weapon, of course. One refined through experimentation and effort that spanned a vast swathe of time, a product born from their intellect. For those who carried every aspect of their lives on their backs, they needed a way to defend themselves from those that would take their precious treasures despite their lack of strength.
And so the Goblins turned to the crafting of explosives.
Even though he didn’t know the composition, as that was a heavily guarded Goblin secret, he could imagine steady hands delicately mixing aetheric sand, fire crystals, and gunpowder into the perfect blend. It had to be done slowly, carefully, a bit at a time—oxidizer, fuel, binder, all packed into a small ball that would give way to a very big…
BOOM.
The Soul Crystal began to pulsate within his grasp as the envisioned scenario resonated with the memories that were imbued within the aether traces that had been absorbed upon the Goblin’s death. The azure crystals encircled him, spinning as they took aether from their surroundings and gave shape to that memory. It felt hot, a steadily growing heat pooling in his empty palm and being overlaid with a shell, until he finally felt a bomb was in his grasp.
“See!” He opened his eyes as he held it out to show her, only to see her backside as she ran away from the bomb replica… which had a steadily shrinking lit fuse. Panic set in for a brief moment before he tossed it behind him and started booking it in the opposite direction.
Fortunately for him, he was actually out of the blast radius this time. He only ended up with a gracious amount of dirt and burnt grass pelting him as they rained down from the blast spout. “Whew… that was dangerous.”
“That is an understatement!” She came back over, lips framed in a pout. “There’s a reason using magic requires years of study. If any layman could simply use spells without proper guidance, they could easily hurt someone. Whoever gave you that Soul Crystal was so irresponsible that they ought to be arrested!”
“That’s a bit excessive,” he murmured. Though, he would admit that the book didn’t note that the fuse would be actively lit. That was an oversight. “Anyway, thanks to that now I’ve got three spells that I can use, and we finished the quest. So, all’s well that ends well, right?”
She only huffed. “I am going to inspect the cargo and make sure that it wasn’t damaged. Then you can help me cart it back.”
He watched as she went back to the crate while her carbuncle just curiously stayed behind and gave him an inquiring look. Then she let out a small yelp and began to sway on her feet. She attempted to stagger away from the crate before collapsing onto the ground, leaving the arcane entity to vanish as well.
“What’s wrong?” Cocobusi moved to check on her before the scent wafting from the open crate hit him like a brick and he began to stagger as well. That when he noticed that wind crystals on the underside of the crate lid had been used to keep the odor contained within the crate, as what was inside was several blocks of hard-yellow cheese, threaded with blue-green mold. He fought against the nausea and held his breath, barely managing to get the top back on, before he slumped down against the crate as well.
Before the scent clinging to his nose could overwhelm his small mass as it did hers, he reached into his pouch and grabbed some liquid Smelling Salts. The scent of it was pungent and powerful as he popped the cork, but it was still better than what his nose had the horror of smelling just now. He soaked a cloth with it and tied it around his mouth and nose to eventually wash it away while the stimulant kept him alert.
Then he did the same for the unconscious Arcanist and they both carried the crate back to Limsa Lominsa.
The Bismarck would find few brave enough to try Goblin Cheese Cuisine in the future.
Fanfic Recommendation 87
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
The Hero Nobody Knows: Interlude 1
A Fate Kaleid AU Fanfic
Summary: A Prisma Illya spin-off centered around Shirou Emiya receiving the Archer Class-card, only it syncs him up with the EMIYA Alter spirit.
Intrepid: 20-02 Taylor – 20-05 Sophia
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way
A RWBY Fanfiction
Summary: When Jaune’s forged transcripts were rebuffed, his only option was to return home in disgrace or forge a new life in Vale. Opening a diner was an impetuous decision, being good at it a stroke of luck. Becoming the favourite haunt for students, teachers and criminals alike…? That was neither, but it sure did keep things interesting. Wasn’t the civilian life supposed to be easier?
A Pokemon Fanfiction
Summary: In a different life Ash looks on his world from an unique perspective.
A Pokemon Fanfic
Rabbit of the Moon: Chapter 17 [DanMachi/Bloodborne]
Chapter 17: The Silverback
Henryk was dead.
Bell had no doubts about that as he felt the man’s echoes filling in a void that he’d never knew existed prior to the Hunt. Only this time it had a strange sensation affixed to it. Like something was oozing into the back of his mind, a pulsing throb that left him to shake his head as he fell to his knees.
He didn’t want this. He didn’t want the man dead. He was that child’s last living relative, the only family she had left now that her mother and father were gone. Yet now he joined them in death in this graveyard that seemed eager to drink the growing pool of warm, dark blood.
As he stared at it, Bell felt the burning sting of tears forming in his eyes as he found himself longing for a simpler time while gazing into the moonlight reflected on the blood. Of a time when he and his grandpa were together. It was only the ragged breathing now coming from Eileen that pulled him out of the fleeting, wistful moment.
He looked up to see the Hunter of Hunters panting through her mask, leaning with her back against a gravestone. The feather cowl painted with shades of deep crimson shifted up and down as she struggled to catch her breath after the fighting, blades still held within her grip. It had clearly been an exhausting endeavor for her.
“You hesitated,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
“He was the only family she had left,” Bell said. Not really in defense of himself, but as a fact. “Her mother was dead when I got here. And her father was…”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish as he slowly turned his head. His eyes found the corpse of the Beast that laid where it had breathed its last breath. Still staring in the direction of where Viola’s body laid. The graveyard had drunken deep the blood of that child’s family this night.
“It was you who killed Gascoigne then?” she guessed as Bell let out a pained sound. Not quite a cry or whimper, but somewhere in-between. It served as an admission of guilt. “He was falling apart well before now. The fact that he’d turned simply meant the leash snapped now rather than later.”
“We could have still probably reached this one though,” Bell said softly. “There was a chance he could have snapped out of it. That he could have made it through the night without it ending like this.”
“And if he’d survived tonight, I’d wager he would’ve become a Beast worse than any you’d faced so far,” she said bitterly. “You’ve seen how the people here prowl the streets half-turned already. They’re the ones who give in quickly, the weak-willed and unaware. The beast comes right out before it has time to really grow or become a more suitable predator.”
She then gestured with her dagger towards the corpse of Gascoigne. “But the more the person resists giving in, the fiercer the beast becomes. The more blood they take in, the more they hunt, the stronger it becomes until either they embrace it, or it overtakes them utterly. Henryk was one of the Old Hunters and he’d lost too much this night to be able to keep himself together any longer than he had. Believe me when I say we’ve done both a mercy tonight—nothing worse for a Hunter than to become what they once hunted and endanger those they wanted to protect.”
Part of Bell recognized the truth behind her words, as he had with Gehrman. The Little Girl had said her father had become a Hunter once more to protect her. The same was true for her grandfather no doubt, yet he’d tried to kill her all the same.
“Even so, I still took that child’s family away from her tonight,” Bell admitted in a hoarse voice as he stared down at his hands. They were dirty, meshed with grave soil, sweat, and blood. “I can’t forgive myself for that.”
“And that’s why you should keep your hands clean from now on and leave the hunting of hunters to me,” Eileen said firmly. “Beasts who’ve devoured the men and women from the inside out are nothing more than that. Hunters that go blood-craving mad are only a step away. What I do is not out of malice, but to stop folks like you from tearing yourselves apart over the necessity of it.”
Is that really better? Bell had to wonder to himself. The killing would still be happening. Parents and children separated by the morning’s light as those who went out to hunt instead became the hunted. The only difference was that he’d be turning his back on it and pretending that his hands weren’t the ones stained in blood.
But… what else could he do?
“Head back to the Dream,” Eileen said after she sighed wearily, looking past the slouching statue that towered over them and towards the Oedon Chapel. The Little Girl was in there no doubt, weeping over her losses tonight. “You’re in no condition to talk with the girl, and you’ll only rattle yourself further. Take a rest and spend some time getting your feet back on the ground.”
Bell didn’t contest it. The Little Girl would be safe in the chapel, at least for a little while. Long enough for him to get away from the blood and beasts. Long enough for him to go back to Hestia. To that end he closed his eyes as tears stung the corners and let the Little Ones embrace him…
Then the calm serenity that haunted the garden of gravestones washed over Bell.
Refreshingly clean air lathed his lungs with every inhalation. The dirt and grime and sweat and blood of Yharnam no longer blanketed him. It felt like he was being scrubbed clean both inside and out as he was pulled between here and there.
Breathing deep the scent that the luminous blossoms in the field nearby seemed to give off, Bell opened his eyes to see that he was one more in the tranquil, yet somber haven that seemed to be a world of its own. He supposed it was similar to what the Oedon Chapel was meant to be for other hunters—a place to escape the Hunt. At least for a short time.
“Welcome back, Good Hunter,” the Doll greeted him once more. Her serene, yet inhuman demeanor was a comfort after the throngs of beastmen with snarling visages Bell had faced tonight. Yet the uncanniness of it denied him something vital that he desperately needed at the moment.
“Has that gravestone appeared again?” Bell asked, hopeful yet wary. “The one that leads back to Orario?”
“Yes,” she answered, gesturing with her porcelain hand towards the direction of the misty flower field and the great tree. “Will you be taking another respite?”
If Bell had any say in things it’d be a permanent respite from this nightmare. He hadn’t planned on coming back in the first place. But the Silverback had taken him by surprise and his weapon had been broken before his body.
Now that I think about it, I do need a weapon more suitable for that thing, Bell thought to himself as he looked down at his hands. Echoes still reverberated deep within him. The memories and life of two hunters among them. As shameful as it was to use it for his own ends, he needed their strength now more than ever.
Going over to the fountain where he’d left the badges taken earlier, he peered into the depths of the crystalline waters and found several of them beneath the surface this time. But he only had eyes for the hammer with the hilt of a sword. He reached down into the fountain once more and felt his arm sink into the depths as the echoes within him formed a bridge until he wrapped his fingers around the handle and pulled.
The hammer came out without any problems at first. Despite its size, the water only rippled as it was pulled free, with even the massive head slipping out of the imaginary depths. Neither his arm nor the steel that the stone was actually made of were wet, leading Bell to presume that the water actually acted as some sort of portal.
It was only once the weapon had fully breached into the same plane of existence did it suddenly become heavy. As befitting of such a massive implement, Bell found himself struggling to swing it around with any measure of success. After merely two test swings he had to let the head hit the ground with a dull thump as he rubbed his arms.
“Even for those who partake in blood, the Kirkhammer has always been a rather unwieldy weapon.” Bell’s head twisted towards the top of the stairs at that and found Gherman looking down at him from his perch, aged eyes taking his measure. “I would suggest allowing the Doll to strengthen your muscles, raise your stamina, and draw from the skill of the echoes you have to spare. She’s seen enough use to do so efficiently for you, given you’re unfamiliar with such arms.”
Bell’s gaze turned to see that the Plain Doll had already take her place by his side, patiently waiting for him to allow her to fulfill her purpose. The ethereal echoes within him stirred and began to thread his muscles once more for the sake of granting him greater strength as the euphoric feeling spread over him. The moment she released her grasp and took a few steps back, Bell took up the hammer again and swung it from shoulder to hip with both hands thrice before rearing back to deliver a harder blow onto the ground that sent tremors through his legs.
“It’s somewhat easier to use,” he admitted as he let out a breath and set it back down with the hilt sticking up. He couldn’t swing the thing around a lot, and personally he didn’t think it suited him. But he could use it back home against the Silverback and that was enough for now. “Still, against something fast I don’t think I’d be able to hit them with it.”
Gherman nodded in agreement. “As the Hunter of the Church began to run afoul of larger beasts, they resorted to larger arms rather than refining their skill. But that limitation was evident from the start. Hence why I would suggest pressing the latch you’d find between the grip and the guard to deal with more nimble prey.”
Latch? He looked down at the hilt and traced the design with his fingers up to where he found a rounded section. As soon as he put some pressure into it he felt it shift, just a slight amount. Catching onto the gimmick, he then put all the strength he could into squeezing it and heard a mechanical click.
Then he took the hilt into his hand and pulled the sword from the stone.
Holding it up, the light of the moon gleamed off the silver of the blade. It revealed the elaborate intricacies and flourishes on the guard. Compared to the other weapons he’d seen in his time as a Hunter, there was a marked difference in the design.
He swung it around a few times to test it. The blade much lighter and faster to use, though how much of that was due to his increased strength wasn’t something he could be sure. And while he hadn’t used a sword before he felt somewhat more proficient with it than he suspected he would be otherwise—though nowhere near good enough to be remotely confused with a swordsman.
This should be enough, Bell thought to himself as he sheathed the sword and hefted the Kirkhammer over his shoulder. It didn’t really hinder him while moving, another boon from the echoes it seemed. He also felt like he could fight a touch longer as well without getting as exhausted,
With this he was certain he would prevail, so redonned his Hunter’s Grab once more. They been mended by whatever magic permeated the Dream while the armor that he’d worn remained rather battered but would still serve. Last he moved to reclaim Syr’s purse only for his gaze to settle on the Tiny Music Box. The weight in his chest sunk into his stomach as he left it behind.
Now that he was ready for battle once more, he bid the two residents of the Dream goodbye. Then he made off to the phantasmal gravestone that led him back to Orario. He’d kill the Silverback and return to his Goddess’ side to confess his sins.
Perhaps she could forgive him for what he’d done.
Because he wouldn’t forgive himself.
[R-M]
“GRRAAHHH!!!”
The roar of the Silverback was the first sensation that Bell was exposed to as he reappeared within the plaza of winding labyrinth of buildings that made up Daedalus Street. The simian monster that towered over him was as it was before his death, thick and powerful limbs wrapped in unmarred white fur. It bared its teeth as it glared down at him from behind the visor placed over its head and then exploded into motion.
But this time Bell expected it as he unslung the Kirkhammer from its perch on his shoulder and reared back. It may have looked as if he was readying to take a massive, overhead swing but he shifted his grip so that his fingers were pressing on the latch keeping the sword sheathed. Then he swung it with a roar of his own as he squeezed down and the lock keeping it tethered was undone. “RAAHHHH!!”
The momentum sent the head of the hammer rocketing towards the Silverback, which had been so devoted to its frantic gait that it couldn’t dodge it entirely. The hammer caught it between the shoulder and chest with an audible pop before being thrown askew on the impact. It went sailing behind the Silverback, which staggered back into the center of the plaza while clutching its shoulder.
The black coat billowed as Bell rushed in with his silver sword in a two-handed grip. He’d learned the last time it’d killed him that fighting defensively would drag things out, until he made a mistake or risked getting others involved. Since he already had the measure of his opponent, he would be aggressive and finish things as quickly as possible.
Seeing the silver blade and the Adventurer rushing towards it, the Silverback drew back its uninjured left arm and slammed it down in an attempt to turn him into a smear on the ground. The stone fractured as it broke beneath the force of the earth-shaking blow, stone-dust obscuring his figure from view until he jumped from within the dusty veil and swung towards the monster’s head. The silver steel scraped against the metal visor as the primate moved its head and reflexively avoided it.
Bell fell into a roll the moment his feet touched back down on the ground, narrowly avoiding the swing he’d expected after the last time. The chain affixed to the manacle rattled as it threw up stone fragments upon smashing the ground where he’d been. Coming out of the roll, he spun on the soles of his feet as he spotted the monstrous gorilla bringing its other fist around to slam into him and then rocketed at an angle while he swung with all his might.
The blade buckled in his grasp, nearly jostling out of his grip from the momentum as he narrowly avoided the metal knuckles. But in exchange he’d traced a path along the top of its thick, powerful arm. The white fur that had been unblemished before was steadily being dyed crimson as ichor flowed from the wound, and the Silverback howled from the red, hot sensation of corded muscle being split in twain.
“I’m not done yet!” Bell rushed towards its unprotected flank as the beast naturally recoiled from the pain. He had just enough time to get in a quick swing, so he pushed his left-hand inwards to angle the blade before he used his right to swing it back around as he went past it. The bloodstained silver managed to part only a sliver of flesh between its arm and waist, leaving a streamlet running down. It was the best he could do and still throw himself into a handspring to get out of range before the Silverback rolled over in an attempt crush him with its massive frame.
Coming out of the exchange with his heart racing and blood pounding at his ears, Bell quickly turned to see the Silverback rip the visor affixed to its face off and throw the thing with the force of a cannonball. Too late to dodge, he tried to block it and the sound of metal scraping metal rang out with a bloom of sparks as it broke through his guard. The sheer might of the blow knocked Bell for a loop, sending him tumbling backwards and leaving his battered armor and leather coat to scrape against the loose stone until he came to a stop.
Releasing a shuddering breath and strained groan, Bell stood back up as the clatter of steel rang out at feet. One of his leg guards had come off, strap torn from the impact against the ground. His Hunter Garb’s were torn into as well, covered in stone-dust with bits of it meshed into a slurry from mixing with the blood splashed around from the beasts’ injured arm. But he was still standing and still armed, unlike the last time—he could keep fighting.
“GRRGAAHHHHH!” The Silverback roared with unbridled fury at him, slamming its massive fists into the ground before beating at its chestplate hard enough to dent the steel. It sought blood for blood.
Bell swept the blade so that the monster’s ichor spattered over the ground. The world had shrunken down, everything drowned out by the beating of his heart. He held the longsword at the ready as he locked gazes with the monster.
Then both hunter and beast charged with intent to kill.
[R-M]
Syr struggled to get through the crowd that was forming at the entrances to the Plaza of Daedalus Street. At first it was idle curiosity that drew her towards it along the way back from the orphanage. Then she heard the roar and a shout went out that apparently a monster and adventurer were fighting it out in the plaza.
Daedalus Street was a destitute neighborhood. Constructed into a winding maze that was inconvenient to navigate unless you were intimately familiar with it, there were few reasons to visit unless you had business there. And, situated far away from the Main Streets where vendors would sell their wares at prices more suitable for those with heavy coin purses to wide-eyed visitors, the people there lived more difficult lives.
Many of them would have loved to visit the Monsterphilia that was being undertaken at the coliseum, but the price was more than they could afford. After all, if they were living here then they were barely scraping by as it was. So, the fact that something akin to it was happening naturally drew the eyes of the people there.
Not enough to get in harm’s way, of course. They wouldn’t risk the monster coming after them or helping the adventurer in question if he was in danger. Especially not when the people here didn’t have the luxury of being adventurers themselves. Leaving aside that there were people who came from all over to Orario for the sake of being in a Familia meant most were filled to capacity, the risk of being injured and losing the little coin they could work for would be stripped away.
But they were curious enough to look from safer places that were just out of view. Peering around of the shadows and corners, peeking over the sills of the windows of their homes, onlookers kept their tongues from wagging as they watched. Even Syr wasn’t an exception when she finally arrived and recognized the adventurer in question.
When Bell had caught her eyes, he seemed like a somewhat meek and young boy. The fact that he was an adventurer wasn’t much of a shock. Even though she herself wasn’t an adventurer, in this city even the smallest child could be stronger than a grown man. That was why so many flocked to Orario in the first place—for the power or the glory.
Now he was wearing a stained, black leather coat that had been covered in dirt and dust and bloody grime, scraped and torn apart. Half-missing armor that had seen many battles judging from the cuts and tears in it could be spotted through the tears from where she stood, a part of it broken off near his foot. And in his grasp was a sword, leveled in front of him as he stared down a monster that was more than twice his height and at least several hundred times his weight.
“GGGRRRRRAGGGGHHH!!”
The moment the Silverback roared so loudly that she could feel the soundwaves rattling her bones and charged Bell down, vision of the boy being flattened into the ground played out in her mind. Death wasn’t unexpected for adventurers. Several of the patrons at the Hostess of Fertility had often left out with promises to return only to never grace their doors again. Even so, she felt herself about to shout for him to run despite knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. “Be—”
But then black boots pushed off the ground. The tail of the coat he’d donned billowed as Bell charged forward. The bloodstained silver sword in his grasp caught the light as he courted death itself in a display that she could hardly keep track of.
Someone had armed the monster with metal knuckles of all things. The heavy steel was joined to manacles that had torn chains at the ends. She didn’t know if it was trained intentionally or not, but upon seeing Bell charge it reeled one arm back before sweeping out with the chains like a whip to lash at him.
He parried it with the sword, a bloom of sparks cascading over his face fixed in a half-strained expression while he angled the blade. The length of the chain scraped against the steel on its way past him, before the tip snapped as it hit the ground and tore out a chunk while Bell leapt forward and swung for its body. A silver streak followed by a crimson tail tore through its side, ripping through the white fur and adding to the color that was staining it already from previous close calls.
Bristling from pain, the monster spun around with its arms extended. Bell managed to dart back from the massive fists, but the chains lengthened its reach and he was forced to put the sword between himself and the length. The end snapped as it battered the silver steel and knocked him off balance, sending him staggering back as the Silverback jumped forward with a metal-knuckled fist chambered.
Syr winced as he brought the flat of the sword in front of himself to intercept it and the ear-ringing sound of metal hitting metal was followed by his smaller body being sent skirting back until he hit the fountain. He then darted out of the way as the monster leapt, crashing into the fountain and sending a spray of water and rubble over the battlefield before coming to a stop as something that looked akin to stone hammer appeared out of the ground next to him like magic.
The boy then slammed the blade into the handle, wrapped both hands around the grip, and threw himself back towards the Silverback as it did the same to him with a metal-backed fist chambered. Both swung for one another with the intention of killing one another, and Syr’s expectations were decidedly in the monster’s favor. Even though she knew that the Falna was the great equalizer when it came to men and monsters, the rational part of her mind expected he would meet his end here.
Yet, the white-haired adventurer won out the moment they clashed. The metal knuckle shattered with an audible crunch and she watched as the bones and flesh behind them crumpled as blood stained the head of the hammer. The Silverback cried out with a bestial shout as it pulled back its mashed appendage and the pain eclipsed all of its other senses. “GRRAHHHHAHGH?!!?”
Bell ignored it as he spun on his heel and stepped forward, swinging the hammer around once more. This time it found the monster’s knee and there was a sickening crunch as bone shattered like glasswork under the pressure, jagged bits piercing through the sack of reddening fur as the limb was knocked out from beneath the simian and left it prone. Then he chambered the hammer and prepared to crush its skull with an overhead swing in a gruesome execution.
Perhaps sensing the impending death, the Silverback lashed out a final time. It still had one good arm and good leg. It flailed its massive fist towards him, swinging with enough force to break stone as it backhanded him and managed to stagger him before he could execute it. Then it pushed off the ground with its remaining leg and lunged, hand outstretched to grab him between its stout fingers and wring the life out of him—
CRUNCH!!
—and made no difference as Bell pivoted off to the side, twisting on his heel as he swung the hammer around in a downwards arch. It connected with another crunch that sent a shiver down her spine. And the offending limb was now nothing more than flattened, pulped meat that seeped into the cratered and broken earth.
“RRRHAHHHGHHGHGH!!!!” The Silverback raged in a desperate fury, trying to pull back its arm that was trapped beneath the weight of the hammer. Eventually it managed to wrench out a blooded stump with bits of white bone mixed into the mesh of vivid color that painted the fur clinging to what was left of its forearm.
The sight of it only served to send the monster into its death throes as it writhed around in pain, rolling and beating its stump against the ground. Its remaining leg tried to pick it up but failed, collapsing and unable to sustain its own weight. All it did was open up the wounds it had sustained further, letting blood escape and spatter out with every motion to paint the plaza further than the expanding boundary of the growing pool beneath it.
It was hard to look at. Not just for Syr. But for Bell as well, who she noticed had an almost shameful look on his face as he looked away. But then he closed his eyes and reached down for the point where his hilt and hammer met. The sword came out with a quick pull and a moment later he jumped onto the flailing monster’s back and drove the sword into its chest.
The pained sounds that filled the air were instead replaced with a deathly silence. The Silverback went still as its body slumped down with its final breath. Then it crumbled to dust and all traces of its massive corpse vanished as Bell’s blade was wedged between two halves of the magic stone.
He had won.
The cheering started about then now that the danger passed. The violence of the battle hadn’t been a deterrent for the people who lived there. It had been a thing of beauty for those who were unfamiliar with the depths of the dungeon and the dangers beyond a passing note, a clash where a monster and man fought tooth and nail against one another.
But there were no traces of happiness on Bell’s face as the crowd cheered at his performance. He simply averted his eyes from the crowd as he grabbed his weapon and then ran off down an alleyway. It seemed like he wanted to get away from it all—away from the crowd, and away from the moment itself. But that would be impossible given how quickly the rumor mill spread around here.
I suppose I could give him a little help in getting away, Syr decided upon realizing he’d be hounded all along the way the Main Street at this rate. She knew the streets well enough that she could intercept him, given that he didn’t know where he was going. And helping him slip away somewhere quiet until things died down later in the day was the least she could do after watching him make that expression…
Fanfic Recommendation 86
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
Bad End, New Beginning (One-Shot)
A FSN / Rising of Shield Hero Fanfic
Summary: When an overzealous Shirou jumps into a fight that he cannot win, his story comes to an end. Or does it? Appearing in a new world that bears striking similarities to a video game – and with absolutely no idea how video games work – can Shirou fulfill his dreams of becoming a Hero? And will that goal be any easier to achieve now that a Legendary Bow is stuck to his left hand?
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Great Teacher OniGuzma 27 – 30 (Complete)
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A Pokemon Fanfiction
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A Fire Emblem Awakening x Fire Emblem Fates Crossover Fanfiction
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So I’m a Spider. Flat, ‘What?: Spiderbringer 1 – Ungoliant 1
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Fanfic Recommendation 85
My Fanfics
Busi Goes Blue (2)(3)
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Fanfics that I have found interesting and have recently been updated
A FSN/ Demon Souls Fanfic
Summary: There is never only one change. There are always many changes. Because one thing will change another. It will affect something more. Ripples through time. Irrelevant to some, disastrous to others. There can never be only one change Emiya Shirou. There will always be consequences.
Bad End, New Beginning
A FSN / Rising of Shield Hero Fanfic
Summary: When an overzealous Shirou jumps into a fight that he cannot win, his story comes to an end. Or does it? Appearing in a new world that bears striking similarities to a video game – and with absolutely no idea how video games work – can Shirou fulfill his dreams of becoming a Hero? And will that goal be any easier to achieve now that a Legendary Bow is stuck to his left hand?
Promises of a Wandering Hero 24 – 25
A FSN Fanfic
Summary: He promised to be a Hero capable of saving everyone. But before that he made other promises he can’t remember under a different name. How will Shirou react when he finds his lost past? – Shirou/Multi Mature Contents.
Intrepid: Interlude 19-07 Madison – 19-10 Sophia
A Worm Fanfiction
Summary: In the wake of the Locker Incident, Taylor goes comatose. Wracked with guilt, Emma and Madison trigger. Things spiral from there as they quickly go different routes, both seeking redemption in a different way
A RWBY Fanfiction
Summary: When Jaune’s forged transcripts were rebuffed, his only option was to return home in disgrace or forge a new life in Vale. Opening a diner was an impetuous decision, being good at it a stroke of luck. Becoming the favourite haunt for students, teachers and criminals alike…? That was neither, but it sure did keep things interesting. Wasn’t the civilian life supposed to be easier?
A Rising of the Shield Hero x Yakuza Crossover Fanfic
Summary: Post Song of Life Kiriyu is summoned through a ritual with the Vassal Weapon to become the Gauntlet Hero. With nothing left for him after faking his death at the end, how will the dragon rise to the defense of the Shield Hero.
A Fire Emblem Awakening x Fire Emblem Fates Crossover Fanfiction
Summary: The war is over, Nohr has won, and Corrin, ridden by guilt and grieving the loss of Azura, is a broken man. Yet the threat of the Invisible Dragon remains and now he moves against the weakened kingdoms. When a mysterious tactician and a princess appear, can Corrin rise past his grief and work with them to save both their worlds? Continues story of “A Future Broken”
A Fire Emblem Awakening Fanfiction
Summary: In one world, Robin died abandoned by those she thought friends, with the sword of her lover driven into her chest. In another world, a young man with no memories of his past was trusted to guide Ylisse in war. Given a new chance, the broken queen will make sure this young tactician survived, no matter the cost.
A Worm x So I’m a Spider Fanfiction
Summary: I’ve never had the most charmed of lives, but I never imagined that one day I would wake up how I did. No way. I mean, in a world full of powers, this is what I end up with? What do you even say to that?
Busi Goes Blue (or How to be a Blue Mage in Eorzea) – Spell 2: Sticky Tongue [FFXIV Fanfic]
Summary: What can the magic of blue do for you? Well, for Cocobusi it offered a chance to become a mage like he’d always wanted. Even if it wasn’t the same magic that his brothers could use, it was still worth a shot… right?
Sticky Tongue
The environs of Eorzea lends itself well to a number of different beasts, many of whom have adapted to their local biome. One of the more common species you’ll find are those of the Gigantoad genius, which are, as the name implies, large amphibians typically characterized by their ability to make great strides through leaping, their propensity to secrete fluids through glands on their leathery skin, and their extremely long and unusually adhesive tongues that can be used to snatch prey from afar.
The latter ability is what you will be attempting to reproduce through a single spell: Sticky Tongue.
Blue Mages can utilize a far more sanitary aetherial “tongue” once attuned to the wavekin’s instincts, constructing an adhesive and malleable fluid that will reach out and grab the target before snapping back and bringing them to you. It may not be elegant, but utility of the spell isn’t to be understated.
However, let it be known that while it can be learned by several different species all over Eorzea, the chances of obtaining it are slim due to the nature of the spell. But if you fancy giving it a shot, you can learn it from the following species of the genius…
<-><-><-><-><->
Cocobusi nearly stumbled on a rock cropping out of the ground as he read the passage on the Sticky Tongue spell while following behind the two nearby Yellowjackets on their way to a stream in Lower La Noscea.
He had gone to the Adventurer’s Guild to register and was scantily finished when a Yellowjacket came about requesting help to deal with an impending surge of Cane Toads, an invasive species that was imported to deal with the vilekin swarms. But their numbers grew out of control as they had no natural predators and required culling from time to time. From what he could gather it happened frequently throughout the season, due to them having eggs similar to the local Rivertoad population—which they couldn’t exactly eliminate due to them serving as a vital part of the ecosystem.
There weren’t many volunteers to help in the Adventurer’s guild. Especially when the reward was really a pittance of gil with a bonus for every of Cane Toad killed. There was nothing glamorous about it, and even the Yellowjacket didn’t seem too enthusiastic.
Their party consisted of the two Yellowjackets, himself, and another Lalafell that had strawberry blonde hair and was dressed in somewhat worn and ragged clothing, likely made of hempen. He believed that she was a novice Arcanist, judging by how she was cradling a rather weathered-looking grimoire to her chest.
When they arrived on the bank overlooking the stream, Cocobusi put away the book and stood before the Miqo’te Yellowjacket as she gave them the details of the assignment.
“Listen up,” she said. “We’re only here to deal with the Cane Toads, so don’t go attackin’ the bigger ones. I’ve seen ‘em flatten grown Roegadyn in a single leap, an’ I don’t feel like tellin’ Old Baderon a couple of whelps got themselves turned into chum chasin’ after enough coin in their daddles for a pint.”
“Does that happen often?” Cocobusi asked, brows raised.
The other Yellowjacket, a Midlander, gave a barking laugh. “The big ones are lazy as they are dumb. Ye can walk right by ‘em without so much as a glance. Just don’t go misfirin’ yer spells an’ don’t be so keen as to pick a fight with more than one of the small buggers at a time. They can still smash in yer skull but good. If ye’ve got one o’ ‘em beasites, best use it before ye start castin’.”
Cocobusi watched as the Arcanist took that as cue to flip open her grimoire and pull out her quill, beginning the process of conjuring the arcane entity that was a Carbuncle.
He had prepared grimoires before, so he understood the principles behind how it worked. The ink, laced with aether-conductive materials that allowed for easier absorption and transmittance, was drawn into specific shapes and geometries that formed blueprints that shaped their spells. The conductivity of the ink made the tome essential for casting as an Arcanist, as without it they’d have difficulty using even basic spells—even if they memorized the patterns in their minds.
But for the entities known as Carbuncles it was more complex, as explained by the acting headmistress when he delivered the requested grimoire to her. Comparing the headmistress’ demonstration to the Lalafell as she wrote into the page of the grimoire, the difference was as clear as night and day. Whereas the former had a relaxed expression, the visage of the one in front of him was strained to the point of sweat coming off her brow while visible pockets of aether being shaped by the formula on the pages circled her.
Likewise, in contrast to the headmistress who had lifted the formula and ink off the page itself through aetherial manipulation to summon her Carbuncle, the young woman simply collapsed the aether into the page before she ripped it out and tossed it away. The discarded page itself served as a medium for the collected wind-aspected aether within the gemstone to flow into it, shredding it as the summoning spell manifested an Emerald Carbuncle tied into the gemstone through an invisible aetheric tether.
“…ten this time,” he heard mutter beneath her breath before she caught him looking at her. She returned his curiosity with a glare. “Didn’t anyone teach you its improper to stare at a lady?”
“Sorry about that.” He held his hands up in an effort to placate her while the summoning looked around curiously, sniffing its surroundings. “I just found it fascinating. That’s all. It’s different from the school of magic I’m familiar with.”
“Well don’t go straining your pretty head about it. Arcanima creates higher functioning spells compared to the primitive magicks you Thaumaturges use. Making something like a Carbuncle isn’t something you’ll be capable of, so stick to lobbing fireballs and try not to get in my way.”
She wasn’t completely wrong. An Arcanist had to route their aether into the aetheric gemstone to form a foundation that could manifest in real-time, which meant they had to draft the shapes by hand and memory. In addition, the equations required taking in variable factors, like the current aether density, and interweaving more complex equations into the formulas that made up the Carbuncles allowed for more ways they could manifest their inherent properties taken from the gemstones. That naturally meant it required a higher level of skill and knowledge.
But that didn’t mean thaumaturgy wasn’t also a complex art. It was certainly more dangerous as, unlike with Arcanists, the Thaumaturges had to shift the balance of a portion of their own personal wellspring of aether and then use a suitable conductor to expel it—with certain metals, gems, and the bones of once living creatures being the best choices. But through careful manipulation of the Umbral and Astral states they could potentially keep casting with little need for rest.
He would have happily enlightened her to those facts, despite not being a Thaumaturge himself, if she’d given him the decency of allowing a rebuttal before she brushed him off with a ‘hmph’ and followed the Yellowjackets to get closer to the bank. That left Cocobusi to sigh frustratedly before noticing that Emerald Carbuncle wasn’t following her. It was instead milling about its surroundings, only to start moving once she was a certain distance away—the range of its invisible tether acting as the leash.
I wonder if she has full control over it, he thought to himself as he observed it. He wasn’t fully aware of the mechanisms of the formula that integrated whatever allowed for control over the summoning, so he couldn’t speak on it for certain. In the end, he ultimately forced it to the back of his mind as the Yellowjackets drew their axes.
As the culling of the Cane Toads began, they ended splitting into two groups. The Yellowjackets went closer to the mouth of the cavern from which the stream flowed, but the Arcanist stayed closer to the shore and path as she ordered her pet to attack one Cane Toad that was nearby, looking for vilekin to devour.
The arcane entity made as aggressive of a noise as it could before bounding forward a set number of steps. Then the ruby on its head shone and the air around the wavekin stirred into a violent whirl that caused its entire body to jostle. It fixed its gaze on the one who attacked it and, the moment Cocobusi blinked, the Carbuncle was already in front of it while covered in a thick layer of fluids.
It was the spell he had come looking for. The only thing left was to claim it for himself, so he focused on it and began the channeling process once more for the only spell that he knew. Blue crystals danced around him as he called upon the primal hunger that invoked Blood Drain and the Cane Toad’s body rocked as bundles of aether were ripped from its aetheric channels.
The Arcanist followed up with her hand over a page, aglow with aether as she used the geometry written there to format the unaspected magicks into the shape of a dense sphere. She then extended the book out towards the Cane Toad and the sphere launched at a destructive speed, slamming into its body so hard that the bindings came undone. The rupturing blast dispersed into the air as fading wisps over the Cane Toad’s corpse.
Cocobusi pulled out his Soul Crystal in the hopes that it’d had a reaction as the soul’s aether burned its brightest upon being freed from the vessel through death. But there was nothing. I suppose it was too much to hope that I’d get it the first time.
He shoved the crystal back into his pocket as the Carbuncle moved up the river and attacked a second Cane Toad. The Gust it called forth splashed the water as the cutting winds that buffered the wavekin stirred the attention of a third one as well, leaving it to lash out and snatch the Carbuncle once more. Pinned down and helpless, the second one threw its body against the entrapped arcane pet hard enough that cracks formed along its fur.
The Arcanist cast her Ruin spell towards the first one as it tensed its legs to do the same and shatter the Carbuncle entirely. The sphere flew towards it and slammed into the Cane Toad harder than the previous one had done, knocking it over to the side as it reeled from the impact of the hit. Cocobusi finished it off with a Blood Drain spell, tearing apart its aetheric channels and leaving it to collapse in the stream.
The third was swiftly dispatched as well in a similar manner and the novice Blue Mage let out a sigh, when a shrill shriek reached their ears and was followed by a strong wind that billowed their clothes. They turned to see a Cane Toad was knocked back by the Carbuncle releasing a blade of wind that slammed the wavekin, sending it right into a Rivertoad that happened to be perched away. It immediately turned hostile as its gaze locked onto them and it subsequently took a leaping bound to crush the Lalafell pair.
Cocobusi turned to run, only for the force of its landing to throw him forward and send him tumbling onto the ground. He shook his head to clear it of the dizziness before he turned to see the Arcanist flat on her back, groaning. Her Carbuncle was still attacking despite the fact that aether was leaking through the cracks in its form, its construct life slipping away even as it continued to fight.
She’s definitely struggling to control it. He supposed that was one of the downsides to having a pseudo-sapient construct. It had could misbehave at the worst time possible.
He used a Potion to numb the pain before he retreated a safe distance, while she picked up her grimoire just as the Rivertoad finished slamming into the Emerald Carbuncle, the impact dissipating its form entirely. That was when a sickly green and purple substance erupted over its body and invaded it from the inside out. It was a Bio Spell, meant to kill it via accelerated entropy.
Dying from the inside out, the Rivertoad leapt towards her as Cocobusi began to cast the only spell he knew once more. She barely managed to get out of the way as it landed and then tried to take her into its mouth, instead getting a gullet full of grass and river soil. Then the Blood Drain spell finished, leaving it to collapse and go still as Cocobusi breathed out a heavy sigh of relief before he looked over towards her—
SPLOSH!
—only for a wet and sticky substance to blanket him before he was snapped off his feet and into the shallow water, where a Cane Toad had marked him as its prey the moment his back was turned.
Helplessly mired in the viscous secretions as it prepared to crush him, Cocobusi fought to get free with all his might and barely managed to pull himself away as it leapt up and came crashing back down with enough force that it would have crushed him. But the sheer force of the displacement of aether that it lined its underbelly with for protection sent him tumbling backwards until he hit a rock on the shoreline.
“Owww…” His moan of pain echoed the ache seeping into his bones and his vision swam. Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. But considering the Cane Toad was moving in to finish him off, he found it in him to at least use his cane to get back on his feet and focus on a final Blood Drain spell.
The wavekin threw itself into a ram that would break his bones before the spell could be completed, if not for the sphere of condensed aether slamming into it before rupturing. The Ruin spell that had flown from behind him intercepted the Cane Toad, repaying the ambush in kind and buying enough time for the novice Blue Mage to cast his own spell. Its body convulsed thrice before its legs collapsed under it, the cumulative damage too much for it to withstand.
And at last he felt the Soul Crystal quiver in his pocket.
Cocobusi would have celebrated if not for the pain in his body. The cane became a crutch as he slumped down to his knees in the water, his clothes soaked and heavy. It almost felt like he was going to pass out when a soothing sensation swaddled him. It felt like his body was repairing itself, damaged tissue and bone mending courtesy of a Physick spell.
He stood up straight and gave the approaching Lalafell a bow of the head in gratitude. “Thank you.”
She only turned her head to the side and muttered, “Just don’t tell anyone about the Carbuncle and we’ll call it even.”
There was a hint of shame in her tone. The kind he had when he often had to admit that he couldn’t use magic like his brothers when asked by those who were unaware. The one exception to their family of arcane experts. The fact that she couldn’t control her pet well was clearly a sensitive topic for her, so he bobbed his head in agreement. “Sure. My lips are sealed.”
She huffed in acceptance and then pointed to the remainder of the Cane Toads. “Well then, let’s get back to it. Every toad we leave for them to kill is one less gil for us. Come on now, hop to it.”
<-><-><-><-><->
Later that evening, Cocobusi was outside of the Zephyr gate once more. Though the experience of culling the population of Cane Toads proved more tedious and less rewarding that he expected in terms of monetary compensation, he did ultimately earn something far more valuable. Holding the Soul of a Blue Mage in his palm, his fingers wrapped around it tight as he attempted to attune to mindset needed to use Sticky Tongue.
What drove the Cane Toad to use this primitive form of aetherial manipulation? It was a primal means of obtaining prey that remained distant, meaning the desire was rooted in the need to…
ENSNARE.
The Soul Crystal began to pulsate within his grasp when that thought crossed his mind as he fixated on a Little Ladybug, the vilekin moving in erratic patterns. Attuned to the mind of the small breed of toad, such succulent prey left his mouth salivating as azure crystals began to swirl around him and draw in the ambient aether. He felt it pooling in his mouth, morphing into a viscous liquid that filled his cheeks until they were puffed out and he couldn’t keep his lips closed anymore.
“Ptooh!” His lips were forced apart and the fluid came out like a nocked arrow being loosed. All the building pressure was released at once, lancing onto the unexpectant prey and then snapping back faster than the eye could track. The vilekin plopped down in front of him, writhing in agitation and confusion as it remained pinned by the thick, slimy fluid.
“Das’ oin ta ek ome getting used to…” he muttered, tongue hanging out and saliva dripping down as it tried to wash away the taste of the so-called aetherial tongue. He doubted that it would be enough to impress his brothers, but it was still another spell in his arsenal.
Another step towards becoming a mage who could walk alongside of them.
