Chapter Text
<Minoru Kagenou, Pre Truck-Kun>
I don’t remember what catalyzed the desire… all I remember?
I’ve idolized Shadowbrokers as long as I could recall. Was it an Anime…? A Manga…? Maybe a movie…? It doesn’t matter… I was all in for anything that featured a Mastermind. An Eminence In Shadow, as I dubbed them. They weren’t the main character, or final boss, or a mere minion, but they stayed in the background, flaunting their powers, meddling in the affairs of others.
I always looked up to them. I want to be one.
Think kids and the superheroes. That’s me… but with Master Puppeteers.
Well, one thing set us apart. My fascination was unyielding, unrelenting, and didn’t soften, no matter how long reality attacked me. I studied everything I could…
Karate…
Boxing…
Swordfighting…
Mixed Martial Arts…
I hid my real strength, preparing to become the true Eminence In Shadow when the time became necessary… but… reality was relentless.
I realized, painfully, that I could never match the Shadow Commanders of stories. It didn’t matter how hard I trained. I might clobber a few punks, that was it though. It would be a brutal fight if someone pulled a gun, and against actual soldiers? Pft, nope.
And that idea’s just DUMB! And say I trained for years, became the best martial artist in the world… I still lose to a team of commandos. And even if I escape by the skin of my teeth, nukes.
I needed more.
More.
Not more physical strength…
Not more physical durability…
Not more physical stamina…
A different power system, altogether!
Magic, mana, chi, aura, whatever the fuck you wanna call it, I’ll take it. And while there’s no proof Magic Exists, we have no reason to outright believe it doesn’t exist. Just sanity. So I will gladly abandon the fragile container known as sanity to achieve my goals.
I started training in ways no one could possibly comprehend were they sane. After all, no one’s ever discovered true magic.
I practiced Zen Meditations, stood under waterfalls, focused my every being inwards, fasted, learned yoga, changed religions (Might go to a Hell or two for that…), searched for Holy Spirits, prayed to every God or Goddess I could find, strapped myself to a Cross… (Totally going to Hell for that one.)
There was no right answer to be found easily, so I had to feel my way forwards blindly.
So here we are.
I’m wearing the bare minimum of clothes, to ensure any magic isn’t hampered when it enters my body. I also bash my skull against a rock as hard as I can, repeatedly, and aggressively, in order to simulate a concussion. (I haven’t got a real one yet, I think.) Everything is getting blurry though… and my head’s fuzzy… fuuuunnnnn…?
I jog and frolic through the forest, letting the magic come to me… come on, commmeeee oooonnnn…
I see a light… two lights… they’re floating and slicing through space… beckoning me…!
“M… Magic…!” I whisper, stepping forward lightly. I stride forward, realizing I’ve begun sprinting, going full speed, as I chant, over and over again… “Magic… Magic… magic, magic magic MAGIC MAGIC-!”
A scream of horns, and brakes, and I lose all sensation.
<Cid Kagenou, Post Truck-Kun>
In conclusion, I’ve discovered magic. When I open my eyes, I’m surrounded by energy… it looks different from the two original lights, but hey. No biggie.
Also… I reincarnated somehow. Must’ve been when I discovered magic.
Right now, I’m a boy, a mere few months old. I only recently started forming thoughts, and it’s hard to figure out how much time has passed at any given time. There’s a little girl who often stops by to look at me, maybe a big sister?
And while I don’t know any words, it’s pretty easy to figure out I’m in a fantasy version of Europe in the Middle Ages. However, that doesn’t really matter. I got magic. That’s what matters, I don’t reality care about how, or why, or any bells and whistles.
I notice magic as soon as I start getting the barest glimmers of consciousness. Miniscule grains of light, floating and shimmering ever so slightly. Nice. But… my training worked… I can feel and control this energy with minimal effort.
And, time is of no consequence to an infant. I’m ready to use these years to train and become stronger, an eminence in shadow, once and for all! …though the girl from earlier won’t leave me alone. Like, holding me nonstop, and… seriously, do I have a stalker already?
Roughly Ten Years Later.
It’s been ten years, give or take.
And I still gotta say, magic is amazing. Limits? Pft, nah. Lift massive boulders with a finger, dash twice the speed of a horse, leap higher than a house… it’s beautiful.
But. I’m still not match for a nuke. And I know my defense’ll increase with my magic capacity and my augmentations and refinements, but have you seen the power of those fuckers? I once debated just forgetting Nukes altogether, because they ain’t in this world. (Which oddly enough, doesn’t have a name.) But what good is a master puppeteer who settles for less~?
No good. No good at all.
So I gotta become strong enough to beat WMDs. And I’ve got a solution, which I’m workin’ on.
Oh yeah, I’m also a noble. For generations, members of this family became Dark Knights, powering up to slay enemies in battle. Nice. And as an entirely average son, I’m an inconspicuous apprentice. After all, a Shadowbroker’s gotta be real specific about to who and where their powers get revealed.
Still… it hurts… this world hasn’t shown me even a hint of intrigue, or espionage. No chance for me to become a Shadowbroker. It almost makes me wond- no… no I’ll get the chance…
I have learned some interesting things as an apprentice. Like how they use magic as a Dark Knight on the Battlefield. I reflected on the two battle styles I’ve learned and honestly…?
Earth’s styles were a hundred, if not a thousand, times better. Look at any martial combat from Earth… you take the best moves, remove the unnecessary, or the unwanted, and draw from multiple schools, creating the best combat.
Then this world. Combat styles stay in their country of origin. So moves don’t cross borders. Plus there’s other skills that won’t be let out of a country, because they’re ‘just that good.’ And it’s not that hard to keep them secret, given how weak the media presence is. Newspapers, if even. So you can’t combine combat, nor reject or improve your own.
In a word?
Unrefined.
But they have a single, special, feature that completely upends their weakness, and makes them the superior style. Yes… Magic.
It changes basic combat on a completely fundamental level. I can fly by flexing my abs. (I tried that. Feels stupid, looks cool.) You can live a person with one hand, so unless there’s an unrelenting gap, basic ground to ground combat is of no consequence. Human V Human compared to Gorillas fighting… entirely different.
Then… positioning…
Shiva almighty! It took me for-fucking-ever to understand, because they clearly never could.
Put simply, everyone’s quick, lightning fast, and takes giant steps. I originally thought it was a super clever, secret technique… then I realized it was a coward’s means of compensating for shit defense.
One guy attacks, another retreats. Guy attacks, first retreats. Lather, rinse, repeat… over… and over. It’s not even a fight, it’s just running back and forth. And in the end, distance don’t matter, they can’t land a good hit!
This has been a Public Service Announcement: Close The Gap, Duke It Out.
I guess I came into this with preexisting beliefs… and while I still heavily disapprove of how weak they are… I can get by, if I hold myself back that much.
My sister trains with me, under my father… everyone says she’s got natural talent, so she might just take over the family. Magic means women often end up as rulers, just as much as men.
And so I let her kick my ass. Because to become a Shadow Commander, I’ve gotta become the physical embodiment of average.
That’s my life. Add lessons on how to be an aristocrat, and hanging out with low tier extras, and I’ve barely got any spare time of my own. So, I can only train late at night, once everyone else is asleep.
My sister’s a right pain sometimes though. I’ve found her sneaking into my room sometimes, and woken up on a few mornings to her sitting beside me. Fucken’ weirdo.
Anyways, when I know she’s in her room, because patterns, I head out. I use magic to compensate for the missing sleep, and while I’ve probably got an issue there, it doesn’t really matter to me.
Now, business time!
There’s a big group ‘o bandits nearby…~ perfect opportunity to test my newest weapon. I take them down here and there, but the chance to fight a whole gang? Damn nice. It’s standard for villages to deal with offenders on their own terms, but they mostly get away scot free. After all ,judicial system’s in the city, so I gotta do it myself.
So my weapon… Slime Bodysuit. Since we can use magic, we use it in battle. But there’s energy losses, like with electricity, and energy in general. Let me explain. Run 100 Currents of Magic through a steel sword. Only 10 will be useful. Disgraceful. And Mithril, the best of the best? Fifty percent is ‘great.’
Then I discovered it.
Slime.
A monster that uses its liquid body to wobble and wiggle around. 99 of 100 percent conductivity rate, and with a Liquid Form, they can change their shape at will. I experimented on a ton. Honestly… might’ve caused a local ecological crisis by experimenting on as many as I did. (Translation, Killing.)
I’ve molded them into a workable form, both strong and easy to handle. Silent and lightweight? Damn I feel slick. I plan on refining the design later, because it’s just a black bodysuit. No frills, no flairs.
I stand atop the trees, looking at the Ghost Town late in the night. There’s a few lights. The thieves are celebrating… nice! See, most bandits suck at planning, and only have stuff right after a heist. Kinda cliche, ya know? But, you know what they say… One man’s treasure is another man’s treasure.
Mine.
I land in the middle of the feast, a wide and feral grin on my face. I don’t bother with a surprise attack, because that’s no fun.
“SURPRISE BITCHES!” I shriek, prompting them to all jump, staring in shock.
“W-who the hell’s this puny dude!?” One guy demands. I scowl at him, and punt him like an american football. I’m ten, of course I’m small! “OW!”
“Fight back!” I order, my blade revealing itself. Given it’s made of slime, it’s got a bunch of neat functions. For one, it can elongate as I see fit. For another, it can shapeshift as I see fit. I just made it a whip too! It’s got sharp edges too, cool right?! I suddenly pause my slaughter. “…only one of you’s still alive…?”
“W-what the hell…?” The boss whispers.
“Welp, guess you’re my test subject for facet two.” I shrug. He stammers, and I elaborate. “Simply put, you’re stronger than the others. Boss, right? Well, attack me. You’ve got negative chances of winning, but hey… might live like… two? Extra minutes. Maybe. Good luck.”
“You fucker!“ He charges and slams his blade down, slowly and predictably. So, time to test my Slime Suit defenses. I tank it. The man stares, gawking in shock and horror as I casually stand, unfazed. “H-how?! I’ve mastered Royal Bushin method!”
“And?” I ask dryly. “It looks weak.”
“Y-you… you DAMN-?!” He charges and performs attack after attack. They’re kinda based in logic, I can see the origins here and there… I slip around a new attack. “W-what are you?! Why can’t I hit you?!”
“Weakling.” I declare, using a dramatic tone, before my foot snaps forward and cracks his shin open. He curls up, crying in pain. I have yet another feature of my Slime Blade. Because it is slime, and my suit is slime. My every article of Slime Clothing is a blade or weapon. I roll the man’s body over with a slime kick to the chin, and turn to look into the darkness. “You can come out now.”
“Well well… this is interesting.” An armored man notes, walking out, with an odd look on his face. If I had to put a word to it, creeped the fuck out. Three Dark Knights follow him. “You are strong, child.”
I merely nod, keeping an eye on him as I casually stroll past a few of the bodies I’ve rendered past tense.
“I am Viscount Grease.” He offers, bowing his head.
“Charmed.” I dryly offer. “Call me… Shadow.”
“Shadow…? Fitting.” He decides. I decide to take that as a compliment. “My men and I came here for an object of these Bandit’s. One of their spoils… though I suppose I should be negotiating with you now.”
“Speak.” I request. “I’ll listen.”
“These Bandits found a Co- …Possessed.” Grease offers. I nod in acknowledgement, if not understanding… “I am working for a Cu- the Church. I would like to purchase this Possessed from you.”
My eyes narrow.
Possessed are humanoids whose flesh suddenly rots and they begin to slowly die. The Church goes out of its way to find them, purchase them, and then kill them for, ‘Purification.’ Supposedly they’re excising Demons. It’s really just killin’ the sick.
I cross my arms, and ask a question. Well, more lay down an ultimatum.
“I’ll give it to you… in exchange for an answer.” Grease stills at my words. “What were you going to call this Possessed~? And were you talking about a Cult~?”
The other three Dark Knights let their hands slowly drift to their blades, before Grease sighs, and speaks.
“I was going to call it a Compatible. And yes, there is a Cult.” He nods. “Meet me here next week, same day, same time. I’ll have someone with me by then, who can explain.”
“Alright. You can have the Possessed.” I turn and walk off.
Next Week.
I stand in the clearing, my eyes drifting over the hidden Dark Knights watching. They’re strong, but I could take ‘em. Then I glance back, my eyes coming to rest on a boy with silver hair, and… honestly, he looks good.
“Hello there, child.” The boy speaks to me. I turn to face him fully, my entire attention coming to him, as he’s the strongest here. He notes that I’ve observed that, and raises an eyebrow. “I see you aren’t entirely overhyped. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Fenrir, of the Cult of Diablos.”
“Continue.” I nod slowly.
“The Cult of Diablos is an ancient organization.” He offers. “We have existed since the time of the great Demon Diablos. Our goal, simply put, is Diablos’ power.”
“Mhm.” I let a soft smile cross my lips under my mask. ”I assume you’re telling me this… because I either join you here, or I die?”
“Correct.” He nods. “So, Shadow… what will it be?”
“It’s a beautiful deal.” I admit. “One I would be glad to be a part of.”
A Few Months Later.
So, I’ve been officially inducted into The Cult of Diablos. Given the barebones rundown, and… it’s kinda depressing, honestly.
No one knows about us, there’s no competition. We’re not facing anything, we’ve already won. That’s… kinda lame. I’m just management, and enforcer to ensure other people don’t find out about us… as an aside, Fenrir leads one of the Twelve Seats that acts as the Leadership for the Cult of Diablos, the Knights of Round. Cool name, not gonna lie.
Right now, I’ve been assigned to pick up some loot from bandits for the Cult. Anything aside from what they want, is mine. That’s how it rolls.
“Please… please just mercy!” The last bandit whimpers, clasping his hands. I sigh tiredly, and my blade instantly removes his head. I stroll around the camp, and… there it is. I pick up a shiny gold amulet, belonging to a Cult leader. Shrugging, I hide it in my Slimesuit, before looking around the camp.
Bunch of Zeni, so dibs. After checking the rest of this place, I make one last discovery. A compatible, or Possessed. Fenrir would want this, most certainly. But…~
“Nothing but the amulet was requested…~” I grin wickedly. “So this is mine…~”
Possessed have an amazing amount of Magic inside them, almost all of which is running rampant, which means if I can figure out how to control it, then I could figure out a new limit to surpass.
After all, ‘Limits are merely the chains fools place upon the Strong!’ Sounds good, right? Whatever, time to experiment.
Later.
One month. I spend one fahcking month poking and prodding that lump of flesh and meat. And what happens? It changes back into what it was before… a golden panther Thrianthrope.
I spend a few minutes debating what to do with her before she woke up, but honestly… it wasn’t really a question.
“Who… what happened…?” The girl mutters.
“You have been cured.” I respond simply, having donned my Shadow Garb. As an aside, I really upgraded it. Her eyes dart over, and her ears flick up. “I am Shadow. And I am the reason you live.”
“How…? You can cure Possession…?”
“If you know how, anyone can do it.” I offer simply. “You have a choice before you, Golden Panther.”
“What is it?” She asks, her tail twitching in curiosity.
“You may stand beside me, learning the truth of the world. You will be unleashed if you reach your true potential. Or you may leave, and learn nothing more. No risks. No rewards.”
“I will stay by your side, Master.” She speaks firmly.
‘Well shit, this is really tickling the edgelord button.’ I think to myself. I let an evil smile cross my face, because one, it’s fitting, and B, I’m excited for once.
<Lord Fenrir>
“…that little shit.” Fenrir suddenly speaks in a softly surprised tone, in the middle of reading reports. It’s a sudden exclamation, and his aide starts, then winces, prepared to be executed for a mistake. But Fenrir merely continues looking at the paper in disbelief.
“Sir?” The aide speaks warily, prepared to be decapitated.
“Fuck off.” Fenrir orders.
“Fucking off.” The Aide acknowledges, and dashes off.
Fenrir sighs and heads to his newest meeting with the rest of his fellows on the Knights of Rounds. This’ll be a pain in the ass.
“He recruited a member of the Golden Panther Tribe?” Mordred asks curiously. He scoffs. “What of it?”
“He wishes to take her as an ally. A subordinate.” Fenrir scowls. “Honestly, I would have trouble believing it works… but he cured Possession to make it happen.”
“He cured… possession.” Jack Nelson repeats in disbelief. “That’s impossible.”
“He said it as easily as one would utter a fact of life.” Fenrir counters. “So, I had him prove his claims, by providing a second Possessed. He cured them too. Right before my eyes.”
“That is impressive…” Loki admits. He then smirks. “So why don’t we all use his talents~?”
“Make your case, but remember he is under my dominion.” Fenrir scowls.
“We boost Shadow to Enforcer Rank.” Loki suggests. The other Knights, even Fenrir, all pause.
An Enforcer Rank, is something that was suggested, but never actually used before. Why? Because it gives all Knights of Rounds equal claim to the individual, even allowing them to kill another’s members, purely at the command of another Knight of Rounds. If multiple members order an attack, this Enforcer could even be ordered to kill a Knight of Rounds, with no repercussions. An unprecedented level of influence.
“It is an interesting offer.” Fenrir acknowledges, before pointing out. “But we will need to vote on it. Shall we?”
The ballots are cast. A blind cast, where you only place the vote with a Yes, or a No. No name, no identifying information. The results were tallied… and…
“Ten to two.” Fenrir reads the results. “Shadow shall be boosted to Enforcer Rank.”
He’d voted for Shadow to be boosted… so who had voted against it? Ah, whatever… more mysteries he’d never learn the answer to.
<Cid Kagenou>
Kagenou Barony.
It’s been three years since I joined the Cult. Give or take. I… I kinda wish it was more exciting… it’s cool at times, yeah… but most of it’s just talkin’, and getting letters to go kill bandits. Odin I wish there was a rival organization to fight!
As an aside, I’m thirteen, Claire’s fifteen.
Nothing special about being thirteen. Fifteen’s another story. That’s when aristocrats begin a three year education at the Royal Capital. And since Claire’s the bearer of all our hopes and dreams? She got a crazy farewell party. Damn sweet.
Well, until she vanished. All hell broke loose…
“The room was like this when I came in…” Our father explains in a low, suave voice. His face ain’t bad either. “No signs of a struggle… but the window appears to have been pried open. The culprit must have been skilled to do this without either me or Claire noticing…”
He touches the windowsill wistfully, and looks to the sky. Just needs a glass of whisky… and hair…
“And~?” A chilly voice replies. “Are you saying we’re out of luck since the kidnapper was skilled~?”
That was Mom. Hehehe…~
“T-that’s n-not what I’m saying…! J-just stating a fact…?” He whimpers. There’s a pause, and then they begin a one sided fight. I sigh and walk off.
It’s like I’m invisible. And that’s how I like it. No one expects much of me, and I don’t cause trouble. Perfect.
Also, Claire got taken by the Cult. I know who took her, and it’s only a matter of time until the guy fucks up and she comes back, covered in his blood and guts. Claire is ruthless. I’ll make sure to scream in horror, pretending to be faint on my feet. Hell, maybe I’ll actually faint.
As an aside, I warned the dude he’d die. Here’s how that went…
“Be warned.” I speak to Viscount Grease in Shadow Mode. As an aside, he still doesn’t know who I am. “Should you strike at Claire Kagenou, the chances of an untimely death befalling you will grow.”
“You know I have my orders.” Grease scoffs, though I notice a firm sheen of sweat already forming on his neck, and soaking through his clothes. “You don’t get to act against me for this.”
“It won’t be me acting.”
“Your… lieutenants wouldn’t be allowed either.” He gulps.
“If you do not see the true threat, even now, then there is no point in me warning you further.” I spin sharply, and vanish.
So yeah. Fuck that guy.
I stroll back to my room, and flop down in my bed.
“You can come out, Zeta.” I speak. The golden panther therianthrope steps out from behind the curtains. She’s the first person I cured of Possession. And the first of only two. The other’s a Wolf Therianthrope, named Delta.
Why’d I name them Zeta, and Delta? Well, she and Delta got their names from a challenge.
“Come at me with all you have.” I order the two, as they face me. “For however long you last shall determine your name.”
Delta lasted four seconds. She’s Delta, the fourth letter of the Greek Alphabet. And Zeta lasted two seconds longer, by using Delta as a ‘human’ shield. So she’s Zeta now.
“How’s it going?” I ask lazily, looking over.
“Things are proceeding as you expected, Master.” Zeta begins the debrief. “Viscount Grease managed to secure Claire, and has taken her to the secure base. How long he manages to keep her is uncertain at the moment.”
“As expected…” I sigh, sitting up, and looking at Zeta. “Your day going well?”
“Mm?” She shifts slightly. “Well, yes.”
“Good to know.” I raise an eyebrow in amusement. “Delta giving you trouble about not being allowed to come join in the manor?”
“You guessed it.”
“She knows the rules.” I offer. “Until she can blend in successfully, she doesn’t get to come here. Rule applies to you and Yukime as well.”
Oh right. I found this Spirit Fox Therianthrope, saved her, and recruited her. Apparently I’ve gone and made a habit of recruiting exclusively the Therianthropes… Zeta, Delta, Yukime… all of Yukime’s people are Therianthropes too…
“Well, her problem not mine.” Zeta offers with a smug smile.
“Keep me appraised.” I order, flopping back onto the bed. Zeta nods and fades from view.