Reborn as Asta

A/N: I just want to say thank you guys for

352K views and the 4.4 rating I mean this is such a huge milestone so i just want to say thank you and I love you guys for everything

😘 Enjoy

The aftermath of the dungeon battle hung heavy in the air, a bittersweet quiet settling over the group. Though they had survived, the cost was evident in their battered forms and strained expressions. Mimosa and Ryuu knelt side by side in the dim light, their magic illuminating the darkness as they worked tirelessly to heal Asta and Mars.

Mimosa's hands glowed with golden mana, her every movement precise and deliberate. She knelt by Mars, her brow furrowed in deep concentration, her voice soft yet firm.

"I know it hurts, but you have to stay still, okay?"

Mars winced but complied, his pink eyes flickering to Asta's unconscious form nearby. The boy's chest rose and fell, his body riddled with fresh cuts and bruises.

"That kid..." Mars muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "He's... tough."

Ryuu, seated beside Asta, cast a glance at the Diamond Kingdom soldier as she continued weaving her wind magic. Threads of emerald light spiraled delicately around Asta's torso, mending torn muscle and sealing lacerations with precision. A faint smirk tugged at her lips.

"You don't know the half of it. Most people would've been dead twice over by now."

Mars's expression softened as he turned his gaze back to Mimosa. His wounds were still raw, but her healing magic worked steadily to dull the pain and repair his body. After a moment of silence, he finally stirred, propping himself up with a groan.

"Why did you save me?" Mars asked, his voice hoarse but steady.

A faint chuckle broke the tension, and all eyes turned to Asta, whose eyelids fluttered open as he rasped out a response.

"Because it was the right thing to do."

Mars blinked in surprise, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. He looked at Asta, his gaze lingering on him as if committing his face to memory.

"I owe you for this."

Mars rose slowly, his movements deliberate as he turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Mimosa and Ryuu refocused their attention on Asta, their magic working in perfect tandem. The golden and emerald auras intertwined, the air growing warmer with their combined efforts.

The forest fell silent again, save for the soft hum of magic and the steady rhythm of Asta's breathing.

Back at the Black Bulls Base

The journey back to the Black Bulls' base was unusually quiet. Asta, bearing the brunt of the injuries, was barely conscious, his body battered and bruised. Noelle and Vanessa wasted no time in ushering him to his room, their concern overriding any sense of decorum. Mimosa, who had accompanied them, remained vigilant, her healing magic at the ready. She promised to visit throughout the week to monitor his recovery.

As the group settled in, the usual lively atmosphere of the Black Bulls was replaced with a somber mood. Luck stood near the entrance, his head hanging low. The typically exuberant, battle-hungry mage was uncharacteristically silent. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, his mind replaying the events of the dungeon over and over. Asta's injuries were proof of his failure.

Before Luck could fully retreat into his thoughts, Yami appeared in the doorway, his towering presence casting a long shadow. His usual laid-back demeanor was replaced with something sharper, more focused.

"Luck."

The sharpness in Yami's voice made everyone freeze. Luck looked up, guilt written all over his face.

"Do you have any idea how close you came to getting everyone killed?" Yami asked, his voice low but laced with steel.

Luck swallowed hard, his gaze dropping again. "I know… it's my fault. If I hadn't triggered that trap—"

Yami interrupted him with a sharp wave of his hand. "Damn right, it's your fault. You let your recklessness put the entire squad in danger. You're not just some lone wolf out there, Luck. You've got teammates—people who rely on you to have their backs. Not to mention a captain who doesn't have time to keep scraping your dumb ass off the floor."

The captain's words hit Luck like a punch to the gut. He nodded stiffly, his determination beginning to overshadow his guilt. "I won't let it happen again, Captain. I promise."

Yami gave a grunt of acknowledgment before turning away. "Good. Now get out of my sight. I need a smoke."

After Yami's scolding, Luck found himself in the training yard, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on his chest. He leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on the dirt below.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Magna approaching until a firm hand clapped down on his shoulder.

"Yo, Sparky. What's going on?" Magna's tone was softer than usual, his usual teasing edge replaced with genuine concern.

Luck glanced up briefly, his blue eyes clouded with guilt. "Magna… I messed up. Bad. My recklessness almost got everyone killed. If Asta hadn't carried us through..." His voice cracked, and he looked away, ashamed.

Magna crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside him. "You're not wrong. You did screw up. Big time."

Luck winced, but Magna wasn't finished.

"But," Magna said, his tone firm yet understanding, "what you're feeling right now? That guilt? That's good. It means you care. And caring means you can grow."

Luck turned to him, his expression a mix of confusion and pain. "How? How do I stop being so… reckless?"

Magna sighed. "Look, you run on instinct. I get it. And you've always got all this energy bottled up. But that energy? That spark? It's not a bad thing. You just got to learn how to control it."

Luck frowned. "Control it?"

"Yeah," Magna said. "Think of your magic like a thunderstorm—uncontrollable, destroying everything around it, including your friends. But control? It's a weapon, a shield, whatever you need it to be, whenever you need it."

Luck stared at Magna, processing the analogy. Slowly, his usual spark began to return, though it was tempered by a newfound determination. "I think I get it."

"Now you're talking," Magna said with a grin. He clapped Luck on the back. "We'll work on it together. Next time we spar, we'll focus on strategy. On control. Deal?"

Luck's lips curled into a faint smile. "Deal."

Meanwhile...

"I'm fine," Asta muttered weakly, his voice muffled as his head sank into the pillow.

"You're not fine!" Noelle snapped, her face flushed with a fiery mix of anger and deep concern. "You nearly died, you idiot!"

Vanessa chuckled softly, her usual teasing tone tempered with a gentler warmth as she adjusted the blankets around Asta. "Give it a rest, Noelle. Scolding him won't help him recover any faster." She winked at Asta. "Though she's not wrong—you are way too reckless."

Asta groaned, rolling his head to the side. "You guys are overreacting. It's just a few scratches..."

"Scratches?" Noelle's voice shot up an octave as she pointed accusingly at one of his bandaged wounds. "You call this a scratch?"

"Ow! No poking!" Asta winced, glaring half-heartedly at her.

"Honestly, you're insufferable!"

Before the argument could escalate further, Mimosa stepped forward, her hands glowing softly with healing magic. Her calm, soothing voice cut through the tension. "Asta, you need rest. Your body's been through so much, and even with healing magic, it needs time to recover properly."

Vanessa leaned casually against the wall, smirking. "See, Noelle? That's how you handle a patient. No yelling required."

Noelle shot her a withering glare. "I wouldn't have to yell if someone would just listen for once!"

Mimosa knelt by the bedside, her voice firm yet kind as she placed a glowing hand over Asta's chest, healing the last of his lingering injuries. "I'll check on you throughout the week. By the time we're done, you'll feel as good as new."

Noelle huffed, crossing her arms defensively. "As if you're doing it alone! Asta needs constant care to make sure he doesn't push himself too soon. I'll be staying close by to keep an eye on him."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Oh? And who's going to make sure you don't nag him to death in the process?"

Noelle's cheeks turned crimson as she struggled to respond. "I—I don't nag!"

Asta let out a weak laugh, his exhaustion evident but his gratitude clear. "Thanks, everyone. Really. You're the best."

Secre perched silently on the headboard, watching the scene unfold with her usual quiet intensity. Her small bird form allowed her to observe without drawing attention.

Eventually, Vanessa waved a hand dismissively. "All right, enough squabbling. Asta needs rest, and I'm pretty sure all of you could use some sleep too. Let's give him some peace."

Noelle hesitated but finally relented. "Fine."

As the trio left the room, their conversation fading into the hallway, Secre fluttered down onto the bed. She perched lightly on Asta's chest, her small weight barely noticeable to the sleeping boy.

When she was certain the others wouldn't return, she transformed into her human form, settling beside him. The dim moonlight cast soft shadows across the room as Secre pulled the blanket higher over Asta, her expression unreadable.

For so long, it had been just the two of them. Even when others surrounded them, there had always been an unspoken bond between her and Asta—a trust forged through trials and sacrifice. But now, with Mimosa, Noelle, and even Vanessa vying for his attention, Secre couldn't help but feel… displaced.

She shook her head, silently scolding herself. You're being ridiculous. He's still the same Asta, and he deserves people who care about him. He deserves more than just me.

But as she lay beside him, her head resting lightly on his arm, the fear lingered. The thought of losing their connection, of no longer being the one he turned to, kept her awake long into the night.

Asta stirred slightly in his sleep, his brow furrowing before his features softened again. Secre let out a soft sigh, her gaze never leaving his face.

"You've always been the same," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Always fighting for everyone else, even when it hurts you. Don't you know how much you mean to us? To me?"

The Next Morning

The early sunlight streamed through the cracks of the Black Bulls' base, casting soft golden rays into Asta's makeshift workshop.

The vision for his new suit was razor-sharp in his mind: sleek, adaptive, and silent. The segmented, spider-like arms extending from the back would serve as versatile tools for reconnaissance and stealth, each capable of gripping, scaling, or incapacitating without a sound.

The pencil darted across the parchment, sketching intricate designs for the arm extensions. Each segment bore anti-magic runes for durability and cloaking spells to render the wearer undetectable by magical sensors.

A soft flutter of wings broke his concentration. Secre, in her bird form, landed gracefully on the edge of the workbench. Her sharp, red eyes narrowed at the scattered tools and materials.

"You're supposed to be resting," she said flatly, her tone more exasperated than angry.

"I'm making something."

Secre's gaze shifted to the detailed sketches. "You mean you're ignoring everyone's orders to heal and recover?"

"I'm not ignoring them," Asta muttered. "I just... I need to be ready. If I had something like this during the dungeon mission, I could've had more control over the situation."

Secre sighed, hopping closer to the designs. Her beak gestured toward a diagram of the spider-like arms. "What's this?"

Asta's eyes lit up as he explained. "The arms can climb walls, create distractions, and even disarm traps without me getting too close. And the suit? It absorbs sound completely and masks my presence so I can slip into any place unnoticed."

Before Secre could respond, a familiar voice echoed from within. "You sure this isn't just an excuse to avoid resting?"

Asta chuckled. "Maybe a little," he admitted.

Liebe sighed, his tone a mix of frustration and reluctant approval. "Fine, but don't push yourself too hard. You're no good to anyone if you burn out."

For the next hour, Asta poured every ounce of focus into his work. He carefully selected lightweight alloys imbued with anti-magic properties—Demon Steel—and began shaping the frame of the spider-like arms. Each segment was meticulously reinforced with sigbin joint fluid, designed to dampen sound and reflect light.

Using the anti-magic tendrils from his back, Asta manipulated smaller components with precision. The modular joints clicked into place as he tested their movement, ensuring the arms could extend and retract seamlessly and in perfect silence. The claw-like tips were versatile, capable of gripping walls, holding objects, or incapacitating enemies without leaving a mark.

Satisfied with the prototype's progress, Asta turned his attention to the suit itself. From a bundle of enchanted fibers—lightweight yet nearly indestructible—he wove a tight, flexible mesh. The material shimmered faintly, enchanted to blend into shadows and suppress noise.

Perched nearby, Secre observed him silently, her sharp red eyes tracking his every movement. Despite her usual annoyance at his reckless tendencies, she couldn't help but admire his relentless determination and ingenuity.

By the time Asta leaned back to wipe the sweat from his forehead, the prototype was nearly complete: a sleek, black suit with a segmented backplate where the spider-like arms rested, ready to deploy at a moment's notice.

Meanwhile, in Asta's Room

Noelle was the first to notice Asta's absence. She burst into his room, throwing open the door.

"He's gone!" she exclaimed, scanning the empty space. "That idiot! He's supposed to be resting!"

Mimosa, standing nearby, crossed her arms with a knowing smile. "This is Asta we're talking about. He probably couldn't stand lying in bed doing nothing."

Noelle turned to her, flustered and irritated. "That's no excuse! He's injured, Mimosa! He needs to recover—not go off doing whatever he wants!"

Mimosa shrugged, her tone light but teasing. "Maybe he'd listen to me more. I am the one healing him, after all."

Noelle bristled, her cheeks reddening. "What?! He doesn't—why would he—ugh, you're impossible!"

Before their bickering could escalate further, Vanessa appeared in the doorway, holding a steaming mug of tea. She leaned casually against the frame, her smirk as lazy as ever.

"You two are wasting your energy. This is Asta we're talking about—he's going to do whatever he thinks needs doing. Might as well save your breath."

Noelle huffed, stomping toward the hallway. "Fine! But someone should stop him before he hurts himself again."

Mimosa followed, calm but resolute. "I'll come too. He might need some healing."

Vanessa trailed behind them with a playful grin. "This should be fun to watch."

The trio followed faint sounds of clinking metal and quiet muttering until they found themselves at the workshop door. Inside, Asta was hunched over his workbench, deeply focused. His anti-magic tendrils worked in perfect harmony with his hands, assembling intricate pieces of his suit prototype.

Secre, perched protectively on his shoulder, turned her sharp gaze to the doorway as the girls entered.

Noelle was the first to break the silence. "Asta! What do you think you're doing?! You're supposed to be in bed resting!"

Asta turned to face them, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "I was just—"

"Don't even try to explain!" Noelle snapped, storming closer. "You're injured, and you're already pushing yourself again!"

Mimosa stepped forward, her tone softer but equally concerned. "At least let us help next time, Asta. Whatever you're making looks… complicated." She glanced at the sketches and half-assembled prototype, her eyebrows raising in admiration.

Vanessa leaned against the doorway, eyeing the suit. "Huh. Not bad, kid. Looks like something you'd see in a heist movie."

Despite their scolding, Asta couldn't hide his pride as he explained his vision. "I just… I want to make sure I'm ready next time. This suit will let me sneak into places, scout ahead, and protect everyone without putting them in danger."

Noelle crossed her arms, her expression softening. "Idiot… Always putting others before himself."

Eventually, their scolding tapered off, and the girls found themselves helping him with small tasks. Asta fought to stay awake, but exhaustion won out. Before long, his head slumped forward onto the workbench, his arms cushioning him as sleep claimed him.

Secre nestled against his neck, her feathers brushing his cheek protectively as she kept watch over him.

At the Golden Dawn Headquarters

In a clearing behind the base, Ryuu and Yuno sparred, their magic clashing like a tempest. Her controlled gales met his overwhelming gusts, the air shimmering with mana in a breathtaking display of power.

"You're distracted," Yuno said calmly, deflecting her attack with ease.

Ryuu smirked, golden hair whipping in the wind as she redirected her gale toward his blind spot. "And you're too predictable."

Yuno's eyes narrowed as Sylph appeared beside him, giggling. "She's good," Sylph teased, weaving through the air.

"Better than you thought?" Ryuu quipped, pressing her advantage.

Yuno countered with a surge of mana that sent her attack spiraling into the sky. "Maybe," he admitted, his voice steady.

The spar continued, Ryuu's centuries of experience giving her a strategic edge, while Yuno's raw power and bond with Sylph often overwhelmed her.

Later that night, when the others rested, Ryuu wandered the halls of the Golden Dawn's base. The flickering torchlight reminded her of home, though the differences in this modern world were stark.

In the library, surrounded by books, she tried to make sense of it all: technology, politics, culture. It was overwhelming, but she refused to let it defeat her.

"Trying to learn everything at once won't help," Klaus said one evening, finding her buried in books.

Ryuu looked up, her blue eyes tired but determined. "I have to. If I'm going to survive in this world, I need to understand it."

Klaus offered a gentle smile. "Just remember—you're not alone in this. You've got me, Mimosa… and Yuno."

Her heart ached at the mention of Yuno. He had become her anchor in this unfamiliar time, his steady presence grounding her when everything else felt chaotic. But even with his support, the weight of her past lingered.

The loss of her people, her displacement in time—it was a burden she carried silently.

P.S: the reason why this chapter took me so long is because school so to make it up to you guys and to also challenge myself I'm going to try to post one chapter every day for the weekend hopefully because of the huge snow storm coming in next week school all across America just gets canceled but we can only hope