Black Clover : Asta's Father

The chapter shall focus once agin on Past of Nero

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Some Time Later ..

As the evening wore on, the dim light in Nero's workshop flickered, casting shadows across the half-finished armor laid out in front of him.

Tomorrow was the war merit confirmation ceremony, and it marked an important milestone for Asta and Yuno, who had just cleared their first dungeon and managed to repel Diamond mages.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crossed Nero's face as he thought about how far Asta had come.

His training and the enhancements Nero had secretly provided had paid off, and Asta was noticeably stronger than his anime counterpart.

Over the years as Asta grew up, Nero had been injecting Asta with strength-enhancement serums he'd developed through his squad and by himself.

These serums were crafted from the strongest magical beasts from extreme mana zones, granting Asta the kind of raw physical power few others could handle.

Asta could now lift more than a ton without breaking a sweat—three or four times that under the rush of battle.

But Nero still had one last upgrade in mind, a sort of super-soldier serum that would multiply Asta's strength by a hundredfold.

He planned to administer it when the time came for him to fuse with the Hogyoku.

Despite all this, Asta's stubborn refusal to take shortcuts irritated him slightly.

The boy insisted on gaining strength his own way, even turning down an offer to join Nero's squad mutilple times.

It was admirable, yes, but it also meant Nero had to tread carefully in his approach.

He sighed, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the armor he and Nel had been working on.

Beside him, Nel had slumped over, exhausted from working overtime, though for Nero, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

He'd been awake for over a year now, with his endless supply of mana keeping him going without sleep.

It was one of the stranger realities of his power—something he barely thought about anymore.

Nero adjusted a few straps on the armor, glancing over at Nel's sleeping form.

She had been pushing herself hard to meet his demands, and he couldn't deny her dedication.

With a small, almost fatherly gesture, he pulled a blanket over her.

Nero's gaze drifted to the sword mounted on the wall—the blue-bladed Elsdocia, its surface cracked but still gleaming in the dim light.

A trophy of his past, a reminder of actions taken without complete understanding or memory.

Conrad Leto, a man whose ideals had once aligned with his own, had been brought low by the machinations of greedy nobles.

Conrad had been a visionary, striving to change the very foundations of the kingdom, but when the tides turned against him, Nero hadn't intervened. He hadn't known enough, hadn't questioned deeply enough. And when Conrad stood alone, facing the consequences of a corrupt system, it was Nero who'd ultimately delivered the final blow.

He hadn't done it out of malice—if anything, they'd parted on amicable terms before the chaos began.

Hell they were good friends before it all went down.

But when the time came, his duty had required that he put an end to Conrad's rebellion.

---

The rain poured heavily, splattering against the ruined stone of the colosseum in thick, relentless sheets.

But it wasn't water—it was mana, raw and oppressive, falling from above like a storm summoned by sheer will.

Each droplet of energy hit the ground with an almost unbearable weight, a testament to the immense power that filled the air.

Conrad stood in the center, his chest heaving, each breath ragged.

His arm was severed, his leg missing, and a pool of his own blood surrounded him, staining the ground.

His face, though pale and drawn, held a fierce light.

He looked across the arena at Nero, who faced him with an intensity that seemed to match the unyielding storm around them.

Nero's clothes were torn, barely clinging to his form, exposing a scar that cut across his abdomen—a brutal mark of their battle.

He regarded Conrad with solemnity and respect.

"You are an admirable warrior, Conrad," Nero said, his tone steady, carrying neither mockery nor arrogance, but an almost reluctant reverence.

"It's a damn shame it's come to this."

Conrad managed a weak, bitter laugh. He looked up at Nero, meeting his gaze, undeterred even in his battered state.

"Julius… he'd seal me away," he rasped, his voice rough, edged with pain.

Nero nodded, stepping closer, his mana pulsing, the energy still saturating the air like a dark mist.

"I won't condemn you to that suffering, my friend " he said quietly. "You fought with conviction, Conrad. You deserve a death befitting a true warrior."

Conrad's eyes softened, and he closed them, tilting his head slightly forward in acceptance, his breathing slowing as he prepared himself for the final blow.

Nero raised his hand, and the mana-laden rain instantly ceased, leaving a crystal-clear sky above.

Infact it was too clear.

(Imagine Similar to zanka no tachi)

The sudden clarity was unnatural, as though every drop of mana had been yanked from the atmosphere.

Throughout the capital, mages felt the chilling absence, the very air thin and devoid of the energy that sustained them.

Weaker mages staggered, gasping as cuts appeared on their skin, their mana forcibly drawn out of them.

In his hand, a sphere of pure, radiant blue light formed, flickering and growing with intensity.

Channeling the ancient magic of the Kira House he had learned, Nero's voice carried with an otherworldly resonance, each word laced with an authority that commanded reverence.

"The crest of the sacred, the vessel of unyielding grace."

The sky darkened without, clouds the sun light being absorbed by the sphere.

"Restrain the shadowed murmur, silence the pulse that seeks to shatter peace."

The temperature dropped, and winds surged stronger, sweeping debris across the coliseum.

In the capital, windows rattled as the very atmosphere trembled under Nero's power.

"Awaken, sovereign light; arise, eternal guardian of purity, you who sleeps in the heart of stars."

The heavens twisted further, forming a spiral above Nero as concentrated beams of sunlight pulled from the corners of the sky as if the sun was aiding him, condensing into the glowing sphere within his grasp.

Day shifted into a consuming twilight as light itself was drawn to him.

"Unite in brilliance, bind the heavens and earth in your sacred embrace, unyielding in your might."

The swirling winds intensified, howling like the cries of a thousand unseen spirits.

People across the kingdom struggled to maintain balance, some falling unconscious

"Gather now, O radiant majesty; let all the world behold your boundless illumination. "

"Let the meek tremble and the proud kneel, knowing the splendor that binds all things in holy light."

As he spoke, his voice grew layered, as if countless ancient voices had joined him in unison.

The sheer power made his words indistinct, a sacred chorus filling the air as the glowing sphere pulsed with overwhelming intensity, bathing the arena in an ethereal glow.

With a final, almost whispered command, Nero released his ultimate spell:

"Ultimate Magic: Light Coffin."

As Nero's spell reached its crescendo, the radiant sphere in his hand exploded into an otherworldly, ethereal blue light that surged towards Conrad with an overwhelming, divine intensity.

The light moved like liquid, cascading around Conrad and enclosing him, flowing upward and forming a towering, crystalline structure—a coffin forged from pure luminescence.

[Refrence]

The brilliance was almost blinding, pulsing with a celestial energy that seemed to hum with an ancient power. Within the coffin, Conrad was suspended, his body held in place by the radiant magic that encased him like unbreakable crystal.

The light did not flicker; it burned with a steady, unwavering purity, as if determined to cleanse all and leave no trace behind.

Around the kingdom, the intensity of the spell caused the sky to shimmer, and a quiet awe fell over those who witnessed the spectacle from afar.

As the radiant light enveloped him fully, Conrad felt a profound sense of calm wash over him, a warmth unlike any he'd ever known.

His remaining strength faded, but instead of pain, there was only serenity.

He let out a soft, weary exhale, feeling the weight of his struggles, ambitions, and regrets lifting as if they had never existed.

This happened because Light coffin was a spell with innate judgement.

Only those deemed worthy of judgement received a violent end.

A faint smile touched his lips as he gazed at Nero through the blinding light, his expression one of quiet acceptance and gratitude.

The ethereal glow intensified, each strand of the brilliant blue magic purifying, unraveling, and dissolving him gently—until there was nothing left of the man.

In his final moments, Conrad felt whole, as though he were finally free.

And then, like a wisp, he was gone, his essence dissolving into the light, leaving behind only a lingering warmth in the air—a peaceful end, a warrior's farewell.

The colossal coffin of light collapsed, scattering into countless motes of light, the capital was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.

The motes drifted, each one fading gently, leaving an almost reverent silence in their wake.

Nero stood alone in the center of the arena, his figure outlined against the sky which was regaining its glow, his breathing steady yet faintly labored.

Dried blood traced along his abdomen, a reminder of the wounds he'd endured to bring this battle to its end.

He looked down at Elsdocia, the once-unbreakable sword now lying shattered at his feet.

The blade, once flawless and formidable, was cracked down its length, with molten edges where the heat of his magic had distorted the metal beyond repair.

Sections of it had melted away entirely, leaving the hilt and remnants barely recognizable.

This sword had been a symbol of strength, yet it had borne witness to this final clash, and now, like its bearer, it had reached its end.

Nero knelt down, picking up what remained of Elsdocia, his expression unreadable.

He knew he would tell no one of the sword's fate; to the world, Elsdocia would be forever linked with Conrad.

Let them think it had been destroyed in that moment, as both warrior and blade met their end together.

With that silently, he turned and walked away, the fragments of light still flickering softly behind him, fading like memories.

He murmed to himself as he looked at the sky, "Its quite a bad day for rain" , remembering the memories of his childhood as a magic knight in the squad conrad led.

It rained quite a lot that day in Clover Kingdom.

---

In the dim light of his private forge, Nero picked up the remnants of Eldoscia.

The once-proud blade lay tarnished and scarred in his hands, bearing the echoes of battles long past and burdens that had not faded with time.

He ran his fingers over the cracks that had splintered its surface, tracing the scars that had once been streaks of molten metal.

Nero's gaze softened as he looked upon the blade one final time.

He remembered the clash in the rain-soaked colosseum, where the sword had served its purpose with unwavering loyalty, even as it was broken by the force of his own magic.

It was, in a sense, the last tie he held to Conrad's memory, to that moment of finality.

He stepped forward, holding Eldoscia over the furnace, watching as the flames licked hungrily at the metal, waiting to consume what little remained of its brilliance.

With a steady hand, he let the sword slip from his fingers, and as it fell into the fire, he murmured softly, almost to himself, "I'm sorry."

Nero's memories and emotions held no sway over sacrificing what was required to achieve his utmost goal.

The flames surged, engulfing the blade entirely, as if sealing away the past in a final, cleansing blaze.

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