The next morning began with a bucket of cold water to the face. Metaphorically speaking.
"WAKE UP, NEWBIES!" Magna's voice echoed through the corridor like a war horn. "Today's your first official day as Black Bulls! That means chores! Lots of chores! The kind of chores that make you question your life choices! GET UP!"
I was already awake. I was always awake. The sleep adaptation had eliminated my need for unconsciousness, and the six hours I'd spent lying in my bunk had been devoted to mana cycling. The bucket of water that Magna had presumably thrown on Asta—judging by the indignant shouting coming from the next room—was unnecessary for me.
"I'M UP! I'M UP!" Asta's voice rang out. "Why is there water?! Why is my bed wet?! MAGNA-SENPAI!"
"Motivation!" Magna declared. "Captain's orders! Newbies do the dirty work until they prove they're worth more! Now get dressed and meet me in the main hall! We've got a whole castle to clean!"
Noelle, predictably, was not enthusiastic about this arrangement.
"I am a royal," she announced, standing in the doorway of her room with her arms crossed and her nose tilted upward at an angle that was clearly meant to convey superiority but mostly just looked like she was trying to smell the ceiling. "Royals do not clean. Cleaning is for servants. I have never cleaned anything in my entire life, and I do not intend to start now."
"That's not something you should be bragging about," I observed.
Noelle's composure cracked. "I—it's not—I wasn't BRAGGING! I was simply stating a fact! A factual fact about facts!"
"You've never cleaned anything? Ever?" Asta looked genuinely shocked. "Not even your own room? Not even dishes? Not even—"
"The Silva estate has servants for such menial tasks!"
"But what if the servants weren't there? What if there was a huge mess and no one else to clean it? What if—"
"Then I would... I would..." Noelle struggled for an answer that wouldn't make her sound completely helpless. "I would use my magic to clean it!"
"You can't control your magic."
"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"
Vanessa, who had been observing the exchange from her usual spot on the ratty couch with her usual bottle of wine, let out a theatrical sigh. "You know, Noelle, a girl who can't do basic chores isn't going to be very popular with potential suitors. What kind of wife can't even clean her own house?"
Noelle's face went through a remarkable series of color changes. "W-w-wife?! Who said anything about being a wife?! I'm not getting married! I'm going to be a Magic Knight! A great Magic Knight! The greatest Magic Knight the Silva family has ever produced! I don't have time for marriage!"
"Sure, sure." Vanessa waved a dismissive hand. "But hypothetically speaking. If a certain tall, muscular, grey-eyed gentleman were looking for a wife, don't you think he'd want someone who could at least help with the laundry?"
"I HAVE NO OPINION ON WHAT THAT SPECIFIC HYPOTHETICAL GENTLEMAN WOULD WANT!"
"Your face says otherwise."
"MY FACE SAYS NOTHING! MY FACE IS PERFECTLY NEUTRAL!"
Magna, who had been watching this exchange with the bewildered expression of someone who had missed several important plot points, decided to intervene. "Alright, alright, enough about marriage! We've got work to do! Ouga, Asta—you two are on cleaning duty. Noelle, you can either help or you can explain to the captain why you're too good to contribute to the squad."
Noelle's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. The mention of Captain Yami had clearly given her pause. "Fine," she said finally, her voice tight. "I'll... supervise."
"Supervising isn't helping!"
"It's a form of helping!"
"It's really not!"
---
The morning passed in a blur of mundane labor. We fed the mana beasts in the beast room—Asta got his head bitten again, and I pried the creature's jaws apart while he flailed and shouted about how this was exactly what he'd trained for. We did laundry, which became complicated when Asta pulled a brassiere from the pile and immediately began bleeding from the nose.
"SISTER LILY!" he shouted, holding the undergarment at arm's length like it was a live explosive. "I'M SORRY! MY HEART BELONGS ONLY TO YOU! I DON'T KNOW WHY THIS IS HAPPENING! I'M NOT LOOKING! I'M DEFINITELY NOT LOOKING!"
"You're looking right now," I observed.
"I'M LOOKING AWAY! THIS IS LOOKING AWAY!"
"Your eyes are still open."
"THEY'RE CLOSED ON THE INSIDE!"
Noelle, who had been "supervising" from a safe distance, snatched the brassiere from Asta's hands with a mortified shriek. "That's MINE, you idiot! Don't wave it around like a flag!"
"WHY IS IT IN THE LAUNDRY PILE?!"
"BECAUSE IT NEEDS TO BE WASHED! WHAT ELSE WOULD IT BE DOING IN THE LAUNDRY PILE?!"
"I DON'T KNOW! I'VE NEVER DONE LAUNDRY BEFORE!"
"CLEARLY!"
When lunchtime arrived, we gathered in the cafeteria, where Charmy had prepared a feast that could have fed a small army. The table was piled high with dishes of every description—roasted meats, fresh vegetables, steaming soups, crusty bread, and at least three different kinds of dessert. Charmy herself was already halfway through her own meal, eating with the focused intensity of someone who considered food a competitive sport.
"So," Asta said between mouthfuls, "Magna-senpai. What do Magic Knights actually do? Like, what's the job? We've been cleaning all morning, and that's important and everything, but I thought Magic Knights fought bad guys and saved people and did cool stuff!"
Magna, who had been in the middle of a dramatic bite of turkey leg, paused. "You're seriously asking me what Magic Knights do? You joined the squad without knowing what the job is?"
"I knew I wanted to be a Magic Knight! I just didn't know what they did specifically!"
"That's... that's insane. That's completely insane." Magna set down his turkey leg and stood up, his expression becoming serious. He reached across the table—clearly intending to grab my collar for emphasis—then remembered exactly how large I was and redirected his hand to Asta's collar instead. "Listen up, newbies! A Magic Knight's duty is sacred! We protect the kingdom! We defend the innocent! We stand against the darkness and give long, inspiring speeches about justice and honor and all that stuff!"
"That sounds AMAZING!" Asta's eyes were sparkling.
"Does it involve a lot of fighting?" Luck asked, leaning in with his characteristic grin.
"It involves exactly the right amount of fighting! Which is a lot! Sometimes too much! But mostly just enough!"
"So what do we actually do on a daily basis?" I asked.
Magna opened his mouth, then closed it. "Vanessa! You explain!"
Vanessa, who had been watching the exchange with the lazy amusement of someone who had seen this exact conversation play out a dozen times, took a long sip of wine before answering. "We protect people. Or something. Honestly, it varies. Sometimes we fight bandits. Sometimes we clear out mana beast infestations. Sometimes we guard nobles at fancy parties—that's the best, by the way. The food is incredible, and you can get close to some very interesting people." She winked. "Very close."
"We get to fight strong opponents!" Luck added, his fingers crackling with electricity. "And if they're criminals, we can beat them up without consequences! It's the best job in the world!"
"Magic Knights are respected," Gauche said, his voice carrying its usual flat intensity. "My sister Marie respects Magic Knights. She thinks they're heroes. If anyone tries to get close to her because of my position, I'll kill them. But the job itself is good."
"That's... that's a lot to unpack," Asta said.
"Don't unpack it. Just accept it."
Finral leaned forward, his expression eager. "The best part is that girls love Magic Knights! You get to be a hero, and heroes are popular! I joined specifically so I could meet more girls and become more popular! It hasn't worked yet, but it's definitely going to work any day now! Any day!"
"Any day," Vanessa repeated flatly.
"ANY DAY!"
Gordon's voice drifted across the table, barely audible. "...I joined because I wanted to help people... to use my poison magic for good instead of harm... to find friends who wouldn't be afraid of me... it's been hard... but I think things are getting better now that Ouga can hear me..."
"Gordon says he joined to help people and find friends," I translated. "He feels like things are improving now that someone can understand him."
Gordon's eyes filled with tears. "...he did it again... he translated for me again... Ouga is my besto friendo... I've never had a best friend before..."
"I can hear you this time!" Asta said excitedly. "I mean, I still can't hear what you're saying, but I know you're saying something, and Ouga told me what it was, so it's like I heard you! Kind of! Not really! But the spirit is there!"
"...the spirit is there..." Gordon whispered. "...Asta understands the spirit... this is progress..."
"What about you, Charmy?" I asked, redirecting the conversation before Gordon could ascend to a higher plane of emotional fulfillment.
Charmy looked up from her fourteenth plate of food, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's. She swallowed with visible effort. "The Magic Knights let you eat as much as you want! The dining hall has unlimited food! And if you go on missions, you can hunt rare mana beasts and cook them! I once made a roast from a volcanic salamander that was so delicious I cried for three hours!" She pulled out her grimoire, and a cloud of cotton materialized beside her. "Cotton Creation Magic: Sheep Cooks!"
The cotton coalesced into a flock of tiny sheep, each one wearing a chef's hat and carrying miniature cooking utensils. They descended on the remaining food with frightening efficiency, chopping, stirring, seasoning, and plating with the coordinated precision of a professional kitchen staff. Within seconds, the table had been transformed from a half-eaten mess into a perfectly arranged display of culinary artistry.
"I can also do this," Charmy said proudly. "Unlimited food AND unlimited cooking! The Magic Knights are the best!"
"That's incredible," Asta breathed. "You have sheep that cook for you. I want sheep that cook for me."
"The sheep are part of my magic. You can't have them."
"Can I borrow them?"
"No."
"Can I pet them?"
"...One pet. Then they go back to cooking."
Grey, who had been sitting quietly at the end of the table in her usual unassuming form, suddenly shimmered and transformed. Her body shifted, her features rearranged, and within seconds she was an exact copy of Asta—same height, same face, same ridiculously oversized robe. "It's a good job!" she said in Asta's voice, and then immediately transformed back into her default appearance.
"THAT WAS TERRIFYING!" Asta shouted. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!"
"....." Grey remains silent.
"THAT'S SO COOL! BUT ALSO TERRIFYING! MOSTLY TERRIFYING!"
"They're all weird," Noelle muttered from her corner of the table. "Every single one of them. I've joined a squad of complete weirdos."
"You're one of us now, princess," Magna said with a grin. "Weirdo by association."
"I am NOT a weirdo! I am a Silva! Silvas are not weirdos!"
"Your face turns the color of a tomato every time Ouga looks at you."
"THAT'S NOT—THAT DOESN'T—YOU'RE MAKING THINGS UP!"
"I'm really not."
The cafeteria door exploded inward.
Not opened. Exploded. The heavy wooden door shattered into splinters, and through the cloud of debris stepped Captain Yami Sukehiro. His presence filled the room like a physical force, his dark eyes sharp and serious, his cigarette trailing a thin ribbon of smoke. The usual lazy slouch was gone. The casual indifference was absent. This was Yami the Captain, Yami the Leader, Yami the man who had built the Black Bulls from nothing.
"Magna," he said, and his voice was quiet but carried absolute authority. "Let's go. We've got a mission."
Asta shot to his feet. "A mission! A real mission! Captain, let me come! I want to come! I can help! I've been training! I'm ready!"
"No."
The word was final. Absolute. Asta's enthusiasm crashed into it like a wave against a cliff.
"This mission isn't for kids," Yami continued, and there was something in his voice—something dark and serious—that made even Asta fall silent. "It's for adults. Magna knows what I'm talking about."
Magna had already risen from his seat, his expression matching Yami's gravity. "Understood, Captain. I'm ready."
"What kind of mission is it?" Asta whispered, his earlier excitement replaced by awe. "Is it dangerous? Is it important? Are you going to fight someone really strong?"
"It's the most important kind of mission," Magna said, and his voice was dead serious. "The kind that separates the men from the boys. The kind that requires absolute focus, unwavering determination, and nerves of steel."
"What is it?"
Magna and Yami exchanged a look. Then, in perfect unison, they spoke.
---
The bar was smoky, dimly lit, and filled with the particular atmosphere of a place where men came to lose money and dignity in equal measure. Cards shuffled. Dice rattled. And at the center table, Captain Yami Sukehiro and Magna Swing sat across from a wizened old man with a gambling addiction and the luck of the devil himself.
They had lost everything.
"I can't believe this," Magna whispered, clutching his grimoire over his privates. His clothes, along with Yami's, had been stripped away by a losing streak of catastrophic proportions. "We lost our robes. We lost our pants. We lost our underwear. Captain, how did we lose our underwear?"
"Don't think about it," Yami said. He was in the same position—naked, crouched behind a barrel, his grimoire serving as the only barrier between his dignity and the cold night air. "The important thing is that we don't lose our nerve."
"Our nerve?! Captain, we're naked in a bar! What nerve do we have left?!"
"The nerve to surpass our limits." Yami's eyes burned with intensity. He slapped his grimoire down on the table—the only possession he had left to bet. "One more round, old man. I'm putting my grimoire on the line."
"CAPTAIN!" Magna shrieked. "You can't bet your grimoire! That's insane! That's completely insane!"
"Shut up, Magna. I'm going to surpass my limits right here, right now."
The old man—Gramps, as the regulars called him—chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Your grimoire, eh? That's a serious bet. But I don't want your grimoire, Captain Yami. What would an old man like me do with a Magic Knight's spellbook?" He leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "No, I want something more valuable. If I win this round, you and your subordinate will do whatever I ask. No questions. No refusals. Whatever I want."
Yami didn't hesitate. "Deal."
"CAPTAIN!"
---
A few minutes later, Yami and Magna stood naked in the middle of the village square, clutching their grimoires over their privates, their expressions blank with the shock of men who had gambled everything and lost.
"The Soshi Village wild boar infestation," Gramps said, barely containing his laughter. "Every single boar. Cleaned up. By tomorrow morning. That's what I want."
"Gramps," Yami said, his voice hollow. "You're a cruel man."
"I've been called worse. Now get going. Those boars aren't going to clean themselves."
And so it was that the captain of the Black Bulls and his senior subordinate found themselves walking toward the Soshi Village forest, naked, armed only with their grimoires and the bitter taste of absolute defeat.
"This is the worst mission we've ever done," Magna said.
"Surpass your limits," Yami replied.
"I don't want to surpass my limits! I want my pants back!"
"Limits first. Pants later."
"That doesn't make any sense!"
"It doesn't have to make sense. It just has to work."
The night swallowed them whole, and the wild boars of Soshi Village awaited.
(Author note: if you want more chapters... Give me power stone. Equal exchange. Peace 🍑)