Chapter 3: Worst of All Misfits
Hyiel stood alone, his four arms poised, his body an embodiment of controlled power. Deep within the heart of the Witch Queen's forest, he stood before an ancient altar, far removed from the usual ceremonial spaces. This altar, hidden deep within the wilds of the forest, held the echoes of ancient magic, a place that had witnessed the rise of many formidable mages over centuries. The air was thick with raw mana, the ground beneath him alive with the pulse of the earth itself.
He was 16 now, his body already brimming with magic that far surpassed most in terms of raw power. And today was the day everything would change.
The Witch Queen, standing at the edge of the clearing, watched him with quiet contemplation. The magic around them stirred as his grimoire appeared. The book materialized before him with a dark, ominous presence. The cover was etched with cursed lines, and the four eyes, like those of Sukuna, glowed faintly, while a twisted mouth grinned across it—a mark of power that would soon be his.
Hyiel reached out with one hand, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His magic surged as his fingers brushed the grimoire, the power of the Witch Queen's forest amplifying his own. The book opened, and the wind seemed to hold its breath. His magic surged as words slipped from his lips.
"Switch."
The world around him twisted, the rocks and trees around him shifting positions as if following his command. It was nothing too grand, but Hyiel knew this was just the beginning. His power was growing, and it would not stop until he reached the peak.
He paused for a moment, his thoughts cold and calculated.
"One word to rule. One word to reign supreme."
His goal was clear. This power was his—earned, not given. And the world would bend to his will.
***
Hyiel's journey to the Clover Kingdom began shortly after. The Black Bulls, a group of misfits and outcasts, was the perfect place to test his growing strength. As he entered their headquarters, the members were immediately taken aback by his presence. His grimoire, dark and cursed, radiated a palpable power that distorted the very air around him. His four arms, each capable of delivering brutal strikes, rested casually by his sides, a clear warning to anyone who dared to challenge him.
Magna, ever the hothead, was the first to speak. "Who's this guy?" His voice was sharp, but his body language screamed hesitation. "Another weirdo coming in?"
Hyiel's eyes narrowed, scanning Magna coldly. "I'm here for one thing: to grow stronger."
Magna, unperturbed, shot a fireball at him. A stream of fire rocketed toward Hyiel, but with a flick of his wrist, he whispered under his breath, "Redirect."
The fireball twisted mid-air, its trajectory altering like a puppet's strings being cut. It slammed into the ground harmlessly. Hyiel, already in motion, advanced in an instant. His four arms moved in a blur, each strike landing with brutal precision.
A quick jab to Magna's ribcage sent him stumbling back, air rushing out of his lungs as he gasped. Before Magna could recover, Hyiel was already behind him. A devastating backhand connected to the side of his head, sending the fiery mage crashing into the stone wall with a sickening thud. The force of the blow left Magna dazed, but before he could fully process the pain, Hyiel was already turning toward Luck.
Luck summoned a barrage of lightning, his usual eager grin plastered on his face. "You won't dodge this!" he shouted, sending bolts crackling toward Hyiel.
"Dissipate."
In a flash, Hyiel's hand raised, and the bolts of lightning veered off course, fizzling out of existence as they approached him. With unnatural speed, he closed the gap between them, launching a devastating punch to Luck's chest. The blow was like a hammer striking a nail—crushing, swift, and unyielding. Luck gasped, his ribs aching as the impact sent him skidding backward.
Without skipping a beat, Hyiel followed up, his four arms moving in a perfect coordinated rhythm. A left hook connected to Magna's jaw, snapping his head to the side with a sickening crack. Then, before either of them could react, Hyiel spun, his legs kicking out in a flurry. His four arms battered them both with relentless precision—an uppercut to Magna's stomach, followed by a crushing hammer fist to Luck's shoulder. The strikes were unpredictable, wild, and unrelenting.
Magna's vision blurred as he struggled to stay conscious, while Luck, though quicker on his feet, found himself unable to defend against Hyiel's onslaught. Each blow that landed left them more winded, more battered.
In the middle of the chaos, Yami stood with a knowing smirk. He'd seen enough. Hyiel was no ordinary fighter. He was a force, a maelstrom of violence and precision.
"Alright, kid," Yami spoke up, crossing his arms. "You're in. You've got the guts."
Hyiel didn't respond, his cold, calculating gaze not shifting from the two unconscious mages. They hadn't even been able to last a few minutes against him. "Pathetic," he thought, but a small spark of excitement burned within him. He wanted more—wanted to see how far his power could take him.
Vanessa stepped forward, concern in her eyes as she gazed at the destruction Hyiel had wrought. "That's enough, Hyiel."
Hyiel's eyes flickered toward her, but he said nothing. His thoughts remained unshaken, the thrill of battle still coursing through his veins.
"Welcome to the Black Bulls," Yami added, grinning. "We'll see how far that fire of yours goes. But don't think you're invincible, kid."
Hyiel finally allowed himself the smallest of smiles, though it was devoid of warmth. "It's just the beginning," he thought. "There's so much more to come."
As the Black Bulls' newest member, Hyiel's journey was only beginning. His ambitions would shape the future, and he would stop at nothing to achieve the power he sought.