Hage Village, Clover Kingdom.
It was a winter night, and the entire village was shrouded in an unusually dense fog. The cold air carried an eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind. The villagers paid no mind to the unusual fog, dismissing it as just another quirk of the season.
At the doorstep of a shabby church, space seemed to ripple faintly, and within an instant, a baby in a white blanket, nestled in a simple basket, appeared as though from nowhere. The infant lay peacefully, his small chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, unbothered by the biting cold.
Shortly after, a hooded man staggered through the fog toward the church. He was middle-aged, with short, dark hair and rugged features that told of hardship and determination. In his arms, he cradled another basket, this one holding a sleeping child wrapped securely in warm cloth. His steps were heavy, burdened by exhaustion and grief, but he pushed onward until he reached the church's doorstep.
The man halted abruptly, surprised to see a baby already lying there. His gaze lingered briefly on the infant's delicate features, his surprise quickly replaced by resolve. Turning his attention to the child he carried, his expression softened with a mix of sorrow and affection.
"Prince… I'm sorry for leaving you like this, but it's the only way to keep you safe," he whispered, his voice trembling as he gently placed the basket beside the first child. Taking a deep breath, he stood and vanished into the fog, leaving no trace of his presence.
At the same time, in a different part of the fog-blanketed village, a woman emerged from the shadows, carrying a third child wrapped in a simple, worn blanket. Her green hair, though unkempt, framed her soft features, which bore a tender smile. She gazed lovingly at the infant in her arms.
"My little one… I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I have no choice but to leave you here. It's the only way to protect you from me and the world." The woman kissed the baby on the forehead, tears falling freely. With a heavy heart, she placed the child on the church's doorstep, just inches from the two other infants. Stepping back, she disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the faint sound of her footsteps behind.
Suddenly, the infant in the middle stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Unlike ordinary eyes, his irises shimmered like crystalline galaxies, an endless expanse of stars glowing faintly. His pupils sharpened as he began to take in his surroundings, his gaze moving curiously between the two babies at his sides. Though unable to move, his keen observation allowed him to realize where he was—and who he was with.
"So this is the surprise the old man mentioned," he thought, recalling the celestial figure's cryptic words. "He sent me here at the same time as them… Asta and Yuno."
Before he could dwell on the implications, the baby to his right began wailing loudly, breaking the fragile silence. "Argh, even as a baby, he's as loud as he'll be in the future," the reincarnated child mused, his thoughts betraying an odd mix of amusement and exasperation.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the churchyard, followed by the creak of a door opening. A tall, middle-aged man stood in the doorway. He had gentle but tired eyes, short brown hair, and wore the simple robes of a clergyman. This was Father Orsi, the caretaker of the church and the orphanage.
His eyes widened at the sight of not one, not two, but three babies abandoned on his doorstep. His heart clenched with a mix of anger and pity as he muttered, "Who could abandon these little ones on such a cold night? Such heartless people…"
Approaching cautiously, Father Orsi's gaze moved from the crying infant with ash-grey hair, to the one with jet-black hair, and finally to the baby in the center. His breath caught for a moment as he noticed the middle child's unusual eyes—crystal-like orbs that seemed to hold an entire galaxy within them. The calm, observant gaze of the baby felt oddly mature, and for a brief second, the priest was mesmerized.
Shaking off his astonishment, Orsi crouched down and gently scooped up all three infants into his arms. "Don't worry, children. It doesn't matter where you came from or who abandoned you. From now on, you're my family, and I'll raise you to be kind souls," he said with a warm, gentle smile.
He carried the three babies into the church, the door creaking shut behind him as the dense fog outside began to lift, leaving behind a serene silence.
.....
15 years later
On the towering skull of the demon slain by the First Wizard King, a young man rested, his stark white hair a sharp contrast against the darkened bone. Dressed in a white sweatshirt and black pants, he leaned back casually, his black sunglasses masking the piercing gaze of his radiant eyes. The wind carried a sense of anticipation as he gazed up at the vast sky.
"It's been 15 years," he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. Stretching out his hand toward the horizon, he continued, "And the fun is finally about to begin." His grip tightened as if clutching something invisible. "In this life, I'll live freely—with your power, Gojo. And I will be the strongest."
His head turned slightly to the statue of the First Wizard King, his smile widening. "Your time of awakening is drawing near," he said, almost teasingly, before standing up. Dusting himself off, he added, "Let's see what everyone else is up to."
As he took a step forward, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud, familiar scream echoing through the air.
"One day, I'll become the Wizard King and make you happy! That's why... please marry meee!!!"
The voice was unmistakable, brimming with confidence and passion. He chuckled knowingly. "Still as loud as ever, huh, Asta?" he muttered under his breath. The yell had come from Hage Village, more precisely, the little church where it all began.
"Let's get going" he declared. Taking a step off the massive skull, he began to fall—but instead of plummeting, his body floated gracefully. A faint blue energy enveloped him as he hovered momentarily, then surged forward, propelling him toward the village at a blinding speed.
"I will be the strongest," he whispered with absolute certainty, his voice carried by the wind as he disappeared into the horizon, leaving behind nothing but the faint hum of energy.
.....
"I'm sorry, Asta... I'm a nun, so..." Sister Lily's voice softened, her expression apologetic but unwavering.
"Wait! I'm not done yet!" Asta's voice cracked, a mix of panic and determination as he waved his hands frantically. His face burned red, not just from embarrassment but from his relentless hope.
Before he could stumble through another plea, Sister Lily opened her grimoire. Her words cut through the chilly morning air. "Stop pestering me!"
A giant water fist erupted from the grimoire's pages, crashing down on Asta with a dull thud, planting him face-first into the dirt. The shockwave rustled the nearby trees, and the birds scattered into the sky.
Immediately, regret filled Sister Lily's face. "Oh no! Asta! I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to use that much magic!" She rushed over, crouching beside the dazed boy lying in the small crater.
Laughter rippled from the nearby trees, soft but undeniably amused. "Hahaha! Asta, you're unbelievable. How many rejections are you planning to collect before you give up?"
Both Sister Lily and Asta turned towards the voice, their eyes landing on a figure perched on a low branch. Satoru lounged there effortlessly, his white hair glowing in the sunlight. He tilted his black sunglasses slightly, his smirk widening.
"Satoru, stop it! That's not funny," Sister Lily reprimanded, her tone firm but gentle as she checked Asta over.
Asta groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head, his hair damp from the magic blast. Before he could snap back, a sudden gust of wind swirled around him, drying his clothes.
"Asta, are you bothering Sister Lily again?" came a soft yet scolding voice. A petite girl stood a few steps away, her arms crossed, her expression a mixture of concern and exasperation.
Another voice, more matter-of-fact, followed. "How many rejections will it take for you to realize she's never going to say yes?"
Asta whirled around to face Yuno, his childhood rival. The taller boy stood with his arms crossed, his calm demeanor only making Asta's frustration boil over.
"Shut up, you brats! And you, Yuno, why are you getting in my way?" Asta barked, his arms flailing.
Yuno didn't even flinch. His tone was cold but steady. "You're noisy, impulsive, and immature. Why would anyone fall for that?"
The words hit Asta like a punch to the gut, but before he could explode, Satoru blinked next to Yuno in an instant, draping an arm casually over his shoulder.
"Come on, Yuno. Not everyone can be as ridiculously handsome as me," Satoru teased, lifting his sunglasses and pushing back his white hair dramatically to reveal his shimmering blue galaxy-like eyes.
Yuno shot him a deadpan look, clearly unimpressed. "You're insufferable."
Meanwhile, Asta's frustration erupted. "You're both jerks! Handsome jerks! You'll never understand how hard this is for me!"
His rant was cut short by high-pitched squeals. "Satoru-nii-chan!"
Three little girls darted out of the church, crashing into Satoru like tiny whirlwinds. They clung to his legs, giggling as he crouched to hug them.
"Hahaha! Did you miss me that much? But I was only gone for one night!" Satoru ruffled their hair with a gentle smile, his teasing persona replaced with warm affection.
While Satoru entertained the girls, Yuno turned to Sister Lily, offering her a quiet, polite nod. "Do you need help with anything?"
Sister Lily smiled at Yuno. "Thank you, but I'm fine."
Meanwhile, Asta stood frozen, his fists shaking. "HEY! Stop ignoring me!"
Satoru glanced over, still chuckling. "By the way, Asta, you do know you can't marry a nun, right? Even if she said yes, the whole village would beat you up for it."
"Shut up, stupid Satoru!" Asta snapped, stomping his foot. "I've had enough! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A FIGHT!"
Everyone froze. Even Sister Lily covered her mouth in shock. Satoru raised an eyebrow before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
"Me? Oh, that's rich! You? Fight me?" Satoru wiped a fake tear from his eye, still grinning. "Tell you what, beat Yuno first. Then maybe I'll think about it."
"Don't drag me into your nonsense," Yuno said flatly, his expression as stoic as ever.
"Fine, Yuno! I challenge YOU to a fight! I'll defeat you first and then take down Satoru!" Asta declared, his eyes blazing with determination.
Satoru chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against the tree. "This is going to be fun."
"No," Yuno replied flatly, his tone as cold as ever.
"Why not?!" Asta yelled, his frustration building.
"Because you can't use any magic," Yuno stated bluntly, crossing his arms.
Asta froze for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to argue back. Finally, he let out a loud groan of defeat, collapsing to the ground in mock despair. "Urrghhhhhh!"
After a moment of silence, Asta suddenly sprang to his feet, his expression fierce and determined. "You leave me no choice! I'll show you what I'm truly capable of!"
Before anyone could question him, Asta dropped to the ground and began doing sit-ups at an almost absurd speed. "RAAAAAAAH! See this? None of you can do sit-ups this fast, I bet!" he shouted between reps, his face red with effort but glowing with pride.
The little boy from earlier, arms crossed and unimpressed, muttered, "Don't bother, Asta. In this world, magic is everything. Speedy sit-ups won't change that."
Before Asta could bark back, Satoru's calm voice cut through the air. Still leaning casually against the tree, he adjusted his sunglasses and smirked. "Magic in this world doesn't matter nearly as much as the resolve to reach your goal," he said firmly.
The group turned to look at him, surprised by his sudden seriousness. Satoru continued, his voice steady and full of conviction. "Even if you don't have magic, you can still fight. You can still win. All it takes is the determination to never give up, no matter how impossible it seems."
Asta froze mid-sit-up, staring at Satoru with wide eyes. For a moment, his frustration melted away, replaced by awe and a spark of hope.
Satoru knew Asta's future—knew that his anti-magic abilities would one day defy all expectations. But for now, he simply smiled. "Keep pushing forward, Asta. Who knows? You might surprise us all."
Asta's eyes lit up, his energy reigniting as he jumped to his feet. "You're right! I'll keep working harder! Just you wait—one day, I'll be the Wizard King, and everyone will see what I can do!"
Yuno sighed, shaking his head. "You're loud as always."
But even he couldn't entirely hide the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Satoru chuckled softly, watching the scene unfold.
"That's the spirit, Asta," Satoru muttered, glancing up at the sky. "Don't stop dreaming. After all, even the impossible can be within reach."
The little boy, arms crossed and an air of superiority in his stance, narrowed his eyes at Asta. "Don't encourage his delusion, Satoru-nii," he muttered, his tone sharp. Turning to Asta, he added with icy precision, "Only those of noble birth have the potential to become the Wizard King. You can't even use basic magic, let alone something extraordinary. You have zero potential."
The words hit Asta like a boulder, and he staggered back dramatically, clutching his chest. "Gah! Critical damage!" he exclaimed, his voice full of mock despair.
The boy, undeterred, delivered the finishing blow. "All the townspeople make fun of you, you know that, right?" His tone was brutally honest, almost cruel.
Asta froze for a moment, the weight of the statement settling in. Then, with his characteristic defiance, he yelled, "I'll show you one day, dang it!" Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and sprinted off, his small frame disappearing down the winding path.
Satoru watched the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and resignation. Sighing, he reached out and pressed his palm onto the boy's head, ruffling his hair just hard enough to make him squirm.
"Hey! What are you doing, Satoru-nii? I'm not a kid!" the boy protested, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
"Be a little optimistic, will ya?" Satoru replied, ignoring the boy's protests as he tousled his hair one last time.
The boy huffed, straightening his slightly mussed hair as Satoru turned away. With his usual casual grace, Satoru began walking toward the church, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatshirt.
Sister Lily stood by the doorway, her expression clouded with worry as she watched Asta disappear into the distance. She clasped her hands together, her lips pursed in concern.
"Don't worry," Satoru called out as he approached her, his tone light and reassuring. "He'll come back by dinnertime. He always does."
Sister Lily glanced at him, her eyes softening but still holding a hint of doubt. "He's so stubborn. I just wish he wouldn't push himself so hard..."
Satoru gave her a small, knowing smile but didn't stop walking. His steps were measured and unhurried as he headed toward the church.
Moments later, a trio of giggling voices broke the quiet. "Satoru-nii-chan! Wait for us!"
Three little girls dashed after him, their tiny feet pattering against the cobblestones as they tried to keep up. They reached him quickly, latching onto his legs like playful kittens.
"Alright, alright, you win," Satoru said with a soft laugh, crouching down to ruffle their hair affectionately. "But you three better not eat all my food again at dinner, got it?"
The girls giggled louder, their laughter filling the air as they followed him back to the warm glow of the church, leaving the village bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun.