***
"..." (Harald)
What happened? In an instant, his former master's place had become a razing sea of flames. It was getting hard to breath, but he was no longer breathing anyway, he had forgotten to. Before his very sight, his mind solely lied in his sight, as dead and distraught as the surrounding infrastructure. His heart was crushed beyond a pulp and there was nothing left that could describe his anguish.
It felt like his heart became so heavy it sank into the earth to form a bottomless pit, an abyss lied in it and due to his mental state falling into that abyss, he had no more emotions to release, no more feelings to express. So he stared blankly. To be truthful, he already felt this horrible when he saw his master's dead body.
He then had a vague premonition that something dangerous would happen to him some time soon. So he had kept the magic weapon on him even though it was a prototype. It ensured that Leman wouldn't sacrifice her sleep on it and get sufficient rest for the next day, if he didn't supervise it she might have stayed awake for the entire week.
She stayed up anyway to work on the adapter. But even in the magic weapon's current state, he still didn't stand much of a chance against the rogue, much less whoever attacked their smithy. It was akin to fighting a gunmen with a toy gun.
"Tch, I should at least look for her corpse. If she's dead, it'll revert to her untransformed self, or worse, there might not be one anymore...
... Some of the weapons seem okay, I can't store all of them so I'll feed all of them to the prototype. "(Harald)
Stamping out the fire, he folded a piece of cloth over his face to block out the smoke before picking up the sword. Some of the handles had become super hot from the fire cooking them for a while, but he picks them up with the back of his hammer before flinging them into the scabbard. Pushing his scabbard against these blades, he absorbs a large amount of them before hand. He could feel the magical particles circulating in his body, forming a natural magic barrier akin to a magical girl's natural augmentations.
Getting slightly stronger than before, his body became strong enough to match an E grade magical girl. Around 50 times average human ability. His hands were now tough enough to pick up the super hot blades on the ground, but he continues to be prudent and feeds them to the scabbard as swiftly as possible. Even if his hands are now stronger and able to survive 5000 degree celsius, he still feels every bit of pain that heat sears into his receptors.
"... Leman, I'll find you. Knowing you, you're like an unkillable cockroach. Wait for me." (Harald)
Did the rogue catch wind of their activities and attacked Leman? Or was it something else that did the smithy in? Whatever the reason, he set off on his journey. He picked up some ragged cloth and fashioned it into a cloak to hide his face. However the cloak isn't enough, it was pretty much the debris of a clothes store which had either been pillaged or burned to the ground. The tan beige fabric was barely enough to cover his waist and layed over his hips. His hammer was barely hidden and his scabbard was in full view.
With this, he would advertise himself as a mercenary in order to look for information.
"... I was too optimistic to think something like revenge could be handed down to me on a silver platter.
If the rogue found out about our antics, of course she would hunt us down. But this... If it was the rogue that destroyed the smithy, that means she has her own way of gathering information. " (Harald)
He would be the greatest bait, if he put his name out there, then the rogue would come to him on her own volition. No need to hunt for her tirelessly. But as it stood, he simply had nothing going right for him at the moment. But one thing was certain, his weapon stores energy. If he sacrificed more and more swords, there was no limit to his growth.
For now, a solid strategy to get his name out there... It was something exceedingly simple, something anybody could pull off. He had learnt it first hand from his amateur days as a beginner blacksmith, when opening up his own smithy. Basic and solid advertising. He went to a junction where the pedestrian traffic was heavy, one road where many would pass through throughout the day.
He arrives at an area that acted as a central junction, it led to many different buildings with vastly different shops, products and services. As expected, it felt like the vicinity was the exact same many months ago. He held up a sign he picked up from the ruins and carved out his new business.
'Bodyguard. Would work for ---'
If he made his wage too low, people would only be suspicious of his services, suspecting that he might have some other agenda in getting people to solicit his service. So he made it high, higher than the average household can pay for. Most people wouldn't even bat an eye considering that they can't afford it, so they ignored him and went on with their days.
His trained and enhanced back muscle held up the sign, his fingers stare right at the sun over his head as multiple beads of sweat leaked over his temple. His body tensed up, but he stood under the elements with an unwavering resolve. It might not seem like much, but as a blacksmith that practically stays inside their workshop all day, staying outside in the same spot for more than 30 minutes was already a lot.
That was when the opportune moment arrived, another hooded figure was running through the streets, a brush of wind ran by his face. The figures hands were kept close to his chest and they seem to be a little hunched over. Shortly after, another person was running at full speed, their breaths shallow and choppy after expending most of their short human stamina. His breaths shook his lungs as he made his way towards Harald.
"Haa~! Haa~! Catch him..! Haa~! And I'll...! ...Hire you...!!!" (?)
Giving a quick nod to his future employer, he dashes off at an inhuman speed. Since Harald had the physique of a well built guy, the man had only expected his abilities to reach that of an athlete's. The air shook around him and a web of cracks form under his foot whenever he lands on the ground.
"...? Is the pavement just really weak?" (?)
Jumping from roof tile to roof tile, he eventually closes the distance between them. The running hooded figure apparently did indeed stole something, and it wa important enough to have made its owner desperately run in the streets and hire a mercenary on a whim. But it was fine, he couldn't ask for a better job.
Before long, the thief had entered an alleyway on instinct, likely because it was a planned route where he could slip away unseen somehow. Harald wasn't an expert at escape routes, so he wouldn't be able to recognise any openings the thief could use in the alley. But nevertheless, he can make it obsolete by simply catching up to the thief. Presenting a threat to the thief's life, subsequently forcing them to fight. It was a basic solution but still quite effective.
He lands in front of the thief from the roofs and whips out his sword.
'...?! Someone who can easily park our over this area? Is it really possible to cultivate an athlete's body with the available nutrients in this post Disaster age?' (Thief)
One way or another, more than half the population is a little malnourished from the availability of food, there wasn't enough to give everyone a balanced diet but people made do with what they had. Countless people joined hands to farm crops and magical girls arrive with mysterious meat... They didn't question the origin of the meat, but they ate to survive.
Harald walks closer, he was hooded just like the thief. Facing a complete strange, both felt danger to their lives as their body temperatures dropped, a human versus human fight just like the old days. It isn't anything as decisive or easy to judge the other's mettle like in a magical girl fight.
The thief takes out their own weapon, a one handed shortsword. Usually these types would bring out daggers solely due to the dagger's light weight and throwability, for this person to even bring a short sword, he must have done lots of intense training. Getting acclimated to the weight would have taken a long time, it spoke about his experience and the pursuit of the human limit.
So for Harald to have caught up to him, he must either be someone who has similarly trained to the limit under the stress of the post Great Disaster climate, someone who had chiseled a stacked and optimal stature before the Great Disaster or... Someone who isn't human. Either way, he was a thief, not a mercenary. When the risk is too high... He runs!
He drops his stolen item and jumps at the walls, his abs tensed up and his countless training sessions kicked in. Flawlessly, he scales up the walls with quick jumps, climbs onto the roof and runs away.
"... H-how... He's not a magical girl right?" (Harald)
He was greatly thankful that this foe had decided to run away. He didn't know how to fight after all, he simply swinged his blade like how he imagined a kid's cartoon superhero would. If he had engaged into a real battle, he would be swinging blindly and wildly.
It was then...
A large plopping sound struck the ground behind him with a meaty thud. As an enhanced human, his sense of smell was also stronger, and it wasn't that far anyway.
"Haa~ haa~ haa~" (Harald)
His vision trembled with more vigorousity and turbulence than it ever did before, the top half of his vision began to darken and his nose wrinkled with all its strength. The familiar stench striked into his olfactory receptors with the force of a truck, his fingers felt clammy and his limb joints felt like brittle glass. His legs bent lower and his balance shook like a dancing cobra. He had immense trouble turning around, but that was only because he knew what he was gonna saw.
"KREEEEEEAAAAAARGHHHH" (?)
A high pitched vibrating shrill screamed from above the roof, it's vibrations corrode at some one of the walls materials, rotting it and disintegrating its insides from the outside. The debris fell around his head as he twisted his neck to force his gaze behind him. It was the thief, large and deep, practically impossible large chunks of his flesh had been gouged out.
A consequence of the industrial revolution? No, a consequence of modern society. A monster fused from refined metals of urban infrastructure, organic parts and radiation technology. The steel crane, a C grade monster. One just happened to be chased by some faraway magical girl and ran into a densely populated part of Central. It happened to see the thief jump into the roofs and preyed after it.
It cold, savagely sharp and intimidating talons tore through the thief's flesh like butter and at the same time it body slammed him with the weight of a small plane. Before he even noticed, a large steel plume, one of its feathers had already been shot between his legs, cutting the inner sides of his lower leg. Blood dripped off from it incessantly.
"TCH! YOU MONSTERRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE BARELY LET EACH OTHER OFF, WHY MUST YOU VIOLATE THE SANCTITY OF HUMAN LIFEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!" (Harald)
Picking up the steel plume, he plugs it into the scabbard. A magic piece of metal, indeed it would power him up more than any average sword could. He feels the magical energy soar through his body, pushing it past its previous limits with ease. A new high fills his body, replacing whatever he had just felt. It was one of the weapons experimental side effects, he wasn't enhancing his body. He was overwriting it.
He runs along the alleyway, now that the large abomination of a creature was in it, it suddenly looked to be much more narrow than before. The creature lifts its wings, shooting a storm of plumes at absurd speeds that even he cannot follow up. He just manages to reach the end of the short alleyway and pivots around the corner, while holding his scabbard in the open. The storm flies into the scabbard while an unlucky pedestrian is sliced into ribbons. Screams permeate this section of town, the corpse is unrecognisable.
More power flows into his body, but he understood that the crane isn't stupid. He can't stay there and keep expecting the crane to feed him power. In the next moment, a large talent strikes the ground in front of him forming large crater. He makes use of his surroundings to duck into some cover. Of course he didn't have so much faith in the large trashcan to block off all the plumes, so he places his sword in front of him while preparing the scabbard to face the next attack.