I know there are a lot of plot holes and I apologize for that. I'll try to improve myself as this goes on.
Any suggestions for future battle arc or scene?
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- Zyon -
I welcomed Clare's companions into the restaurant, noting the stark contrast between their personalities. Helen, lively and full of energy, seemed more expressive than the others, while Miria, calm and composed, carried herself with the presence of a natural leader. Deneve was quieter, her sharp eyes carefully taking in every detail of her surroundings.
The confusion was written on their faces as they looked around the restaurant. It was clear they had never seen anything like this before, from the polished wooden tables to the faint aroma of various dishes that lingered in the air.
"I'll be right back," I said, gesturing for them to take a seat.
"Make yourselves comfortable."
I headed to the kitchen, gathering the ingredients for a simple snack. Thinly slicing a few fresh potatoes, I heated oil in a deep pan until it was just right.
Once the oil was ready, I slid the potato slices in, watching them sizzle and crisp up. After draining the excess oil, I sprinkled a generous pinch of fine sea salt over the freshly fried potato chips. The warmth and crunch were perfectly balanced by the subtle saltiness.
As the potatoes cooled slightly, I grabbed some glasses and poured cola, the fizzy drink bubbling and sparkling under the lights. I placed everything on a tray and returned to the table where the group was seated.
I couldn't help but overhear their conversation as I approached.
"What is this place?" Helen was asking, her voice tinged with awe and suspicion.
Clare hesitated before answering.
"It's... difficult to explain, but this is where I gained my strength."
That caught their attention. Miria leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Your strength? You mean... the reason you can fight like that?"
Clare nodded.
"Yes. I've been truthful about everything except for one thing. The truth is... I became a devil."
The word hung in the air, heavy and foreign to them. Deneve frowned.
"A devil? What does that even mean?"
"It means I'm no longer human." Clare said quietly.
"And I owe my strength to Zyon." She gestured toward me as I set the tray down on the table.
They turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
"Could we... become devils too?" Helen asked eagerly, her tone almost hopeful.
Clare shook her head.
"It's not that simple. Becoming a devil isn't something just anyone can do. It depends on Zyon's decision."
She glanced at me, her expression thoughtful.
"I was simply lucky that he had chosen me."
Their focus shifted back to me, but I waved off the topic for now.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Try these first."
I placed the plate of potato chips in front of them and handed each of them a glass of cola.
"These are thinly sliced potatoes fried in oil and seasoned with salt," I explained.
"And this is cola, a refreshing drink to go with it."
Helen was the first to try a chip, her eyes widening as the crunch resonated in her ears.
"This is amazing! It's so simple but so... addictive!"
Miria took a chip as well, chewing thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.
"It's strange how you simply added salt. It's incredible."
Deneve followed suit, her stoic expression softening as she took another bite.
"I've never tasted anything like this before."
As they ate, I poured more cola into their glasses, the fizzy liquid captivating them. Helen took a sip and let out an audible gasp.
"What is this? It's so sweet and bubbly!"
"It's called cola," I said with a small smile.
"A popular drink where I come from. Refreshing, isn't it?"
They nodded, thoroughly enjoying the simple meal. As they ate, I couldn't help but chuckle at their reactions. Even in a world as grim as theirs, it seemed good food could bring a bit of lightness.
Once they were relaxed, I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms.
"So, what's the situation?" I asked, my gaze shifting between the group.
Clare took the lead, her voice steady but carrying a tinge of concern.
"We've been tasked by the Organization to eliminate a large number of Awakened Beings gathered near the village of Pieta."
I raised an eyebrow.
"And the villagers? Did you manage to evacuate them?"
Miria nodded, her calm demeanor betraying the tension underneath.
"Most of them have been evacuated, but there are always some who refuse to leave their homes. Stubbornness runs deep, even in the face of danger."
I let out a small sigh, shaking my head.
"That kind of mindset always complicates things. And your chances? What do you estimate them to be?"
Miria hesitated, glancing at Clare before answering.
"Realistically, it should have been a suicide mission. But with Clare's newfound strength, we have a glimmer of hope. Enough to launch an offensive and perhaps secure a handful of survivors."
Her words hung heavily in the air. Helen crossed her arms, frowning.
"That's assuming we don't all lose ourselves and awaken in the process. If even a few of us push too far…"
Deneve finished the thought.
"Then we'll lose not only our lives but our humanity."
I frowned, leaning forward.
"So, you're telling me the Organization sent you on a mission with an almost guaranteed death sentence? They're banking on desperation and hope rather than proper strategy."
Clare nodded silently, her expression grim.
"I see," I muttered, my mind racing.
"And how many of you are going into this?"
"Twenty-four Claymores," Miria answered.
"Including us. It's not much, but it's all we have."
I tapped my fingers against the table, my thoughts forming a plan.
"If this mission is as dire as you say, then letting things play out as they are isn't an option."
"What are you saying?" Clare asked, her eyes searching mine.
I smirked faintly.
"I'm saying that you have another ally now. This isn't just your fight anymore."
I couldn't help but reflect on how bleak their lives seemed, trapped in a cycle of struggle and survival. Deciding to intervene, I spoke up,
"I'll help you eliminate those Awakened Beings. You shouldn't have to shoulder this alone."
Helen laughed, her tone light but laced with skepticism.
"You? Help us? No offense, but you don't exactly look the part. Are you sure you're not just here to cook and serve snacks?"
Her comment earned a chuckle from me.
"I suppose I do come across as harmless," I replied, crossing my arms casually.
"But appearances can be deceiving. Let me give you a little demonstration."
With a slight shift in my focus, I raised a single finger, channeling a fraction of my energy outward.
The room instantly became heavy with an oppressive pressure that filled every corner, pressing down on everyone present. Helen's laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by wide eyes and stunned silence.
"Is this enough for you?" I asked, my voice calm yet firm.
The others froze, their bodies tense under the overwhelming aura. After a moment, I withdrew the pressure, allowing the room to return to normal. Helen swallowed hard, nodding as she tried to steady her breath.
"Y-yeah," she muttered, still shaken.
"That's definitely enough."
Deneve looked at me, her usually stoic expression softening slightly.
"Your help could really change everything," she admitted.
I nodded.
"Once the battle is over, I want all of you to leave that place behind. Come work for me instead."
The room went silent, the weight of my proposal sinking in. Their reactions were a mix of surprise and uncertainty.
Helen broke the silence, her tone incredulous.
"You want us to just up and leave? And join you? What does that even mean?" I met her gaze calmly.
"It means you'll no longer have to live under the thumb of the organization. With my help, it's possible to fix your world's problems. In exchange, I ask for your loyalty—a place in my forces."
Miria folded her arms, her sharp eyes narrowing as she weighed my words.
"And what about our mission? Destroying the organization? Would we be able to return and finish what we started?"
I considered her question for a moment before nodding.
"Yes, I wouldn't stop you. In fact, I would support you in dismantling them when the time comes. But for now, you need to survive. What's the point of your ideals if you're not alive to see them through?"
Her gaze lingered on me, and I could see the gears turning in her mind. She was a leader, one who wouldn't make a decision lightly, especially when it involved the lives of her comrades.
Finally, she spoke.
"If you can prove that your plan works... and if you can ensure the safety of my team, then I'll consider it."
I smiled slightly.
"That's all I ask for now. Let's focus on surviving the battle first."
The atmosphere lightened slightly, though the weight of the upcoming fight still loomed over them.
I laughed lightly, the sound filling the room.
"Not only that, but my family would be more than happy to conquer the land and give your people a better life than they've ever known."
Miria raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious.
"Conquer, huh? And what happens to the people who resist?" I smiled reassuringly.
"We don't take without giving. Those who resist will have the chance to see the benefits of our way of life. If they still oppose, then we'll deal with them—but not without offering a better path first. My aim isn't to destroy; it's improvement."
Miria studied me closely, her calculating eyes searching for any trace of deception. Finally, she nodded.
"If what you say is true, it's better than what the organization offers."
I nodded in return.
"Exactly. It's unfair for all of you to experience this constant cycle of death and suffering. Let's break it together."
Helen crossed her arms, her voice skeptical but tinged with hope.
"Big talk for someone we've only just met. But if Clare trusts you, then... I guess I can, too."
I glanced at Clare, who met my eyes with a faint smile. Her faith in me was unwavering, and I wouldn't let her down.
I stood, stretching slightly.
"We can continue this conversation once we've dealt with the Awakened Beings. First, we ensure your survival. Then, we'll change your world."
With that, I gestured toward the door, signaling it was time to return. The tension in the room lifted slightly as they prepared themselves for what lay ahead. The battle awaited, and together, we would ensure a different future for them.
We stood outside, the cold winds of Pieta brushing against us as Miria gathered the other Claymores. Their gazes were sharp, filled with both curiosity and skepticism as they examined me. I could feel their unease even before they spoke.
One of them, a younger-looking Claymore with short, dark hair, asked.
"Who is he, Miria? And why is he here?"
Miria opened her mouth to speak, but I stepped forward, deciding it was best to address them myself.
"My name is Zyon," I began, my tone calm but firm.
"I am a devil, and I've made a contract with Miria to ensure your survival in this battle."
A wave of silence washed over the group. Their expressions ranged from baffled to outright disbelief. One of the Claymores, a tall woman with long, tied-back hair, scoffed.
"A devil? Really? This is no time for jokes."
I raised an eyebrow at her doubt but kept my composure.
"You'll find I'm quite serious," I replied smoothly. To prove my point, I unfurled my bat-like wings, letting them spread wide. The reaction was immediate.
Several Claymores reached for their swords, their bodies tensing as if preparing for a fight. I made no move to defend myself, merely standing tall as their unease grew.
"Everyone, calm down!" Helen's voice rang out, cutting through the tension. She stepped forward, gesturing toward me.
"Look, I get it. He doesn't look like much at first, but trust me, he's way stronger than he seems. You don't want to fight him."
The group hesitated, glancing at Miria for guidance. She raised a hand, signaling them to lower their weapons.
"Listen to me," she said firmly.
"Zyon has agreed to help us in this battle. Without him, our chances of survival are slim. With him, we might actually stand a chance."
One of the more skeptical Claymores frowned.
"And what does he want in return? Devils don't help out of the kindness of their hearts."
Miria glanced at me, and I nodded for her to continue.
"Once this mission is over, I intend to leave the organization and serve under Zyon," she said.
"It's up to you whether you want to follow me or stay behind. But know this—staying with the organization means continuing to live under their lies and control."
Her words hung heavy in the air. The Claymores exchanged uncertain looks, the weight of her declaration sinking in.
The Claymores exchanged hesitant glances, their doubts still lingering despite Miria's words. One of them, braver or perhaps more curious than the others, stepped forward and asked.
"If you're really as powerful as Miria says, are you strong enough to take on the organization?"
I couldn't help but smile at the question.
"Strong enough?" I echoed.
"Let me give you a glimpse."
I raised my hand, and the air around me began to shift. A faint, almost imperceptible pressure settled over the group. Slowly, the ground beneath us trembled, and a dark, crimson aura began to emanate from my body. It wasn't even a fraction of my true power, but it was enough to make the air feel heavier, almost suffocating.
The Claymores froze, their instincts screaming at them to flee. Some clutched their swords tighter, while others took a step back, their faces pale with a mixture of awe and fear.
"That's enough!" Helen's voice cut through the tension as she quickly stepped between me and the others.
"Don't forget where we are. If you unleash too much power, you'll draw attention—maybe even from the organization itself."
I exhaled softly, pulling back my aura and letting the pressure dissipate. The ground stilled, and the air felt normal once again.
Helen turned to the others, her tone firm but reassuring.
"You see? He's not just strong—he's way beyond anything we've encountered before. But we don't need anyone else noticing that right now, especially not the organization."
The Claymores nodded slowly, their expressions a mix of awe and newfound respect. One of them muttered, "If someone like him is on our side, maybe we really do stand a chance."
I glanced at Helen and gave her a small nod of thanks. She returned it with a smirk, though there was a seriousness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Let's save the theatrics for after the battle," I said, addressing the group.
"For now, we focus on the mission—and on surviving."
I wasn't planning on doing everything and wanted to see how well they'll do against their enemies. I'll save them when their lives are in danger.
But decided to give them better weapons. I told them I'll make them weapons to help combat their opponents and took deep breaths as I used the Balance Breaker.
They watched me as I used my Balance Breaker forming a Golden crown made of thorns called the Crown of Eternal Miracles. It allows me to make better creation of complex concepts even if I don't fully understand it.
I instantly made a replica of each of the claymore swords.
The Claymores stood frozen, staring in disbelief as I held out perfect replicas of their weapons, each pulsing faintly with a golden light. Their initial reaction was a mixture of awe and suspicion.
"How… how did you do that?" Helen asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and caution.
I shrugged casually, gesturing to the crown on my head.
"It's part of my power. These replicas aren't just ordinary swords; they'll enhance your ability to fight Awakened Beings, allowing you to cut through them as if their defenses were nothing. On top of that, they'll regulate your power, reducing the risk of you succumbing to becoming Awakened yourselves."
The group exchanged hesitant glances, their disbelief evident. Miria, ever the leader, stepped forward cautiously and reached for the weapon made for her. The moment her fingers wrapped around the hilt, an explosion of energy surged through her body, causing her eyes to widen in shock.
"This… this power…!" she whispered, her voice trembling as she gripped the blade tightly.
"I feel at least ten times stronger than before!"
The others gasped at her words, their expressions shifting from doubt to anticipation.
"Is it really that strong?" Deneve asked, stepping forward and eyeing her own weapon.
"It is," Miria replied, her voice steady but filled with awe.
"I've never felt anything like this."
One by one, the Claymores approached, each taking hold of their respective weapon. The moment they did, their power flared, and I could see the newfound strength radiating from them. They tested their blades, the ease with which they handled them almost shocking even to themselves.
Helen let out an exhilarated laugh.
"This is insane! It's like the sword is doing half the work for me!"
I raised a hand to calm them.
"Before you get too excited, let me warn you—these weapons come with a cost. The moment you let go of them, the enhancement will fade, and the toll it takes on your body will catch up. You'll feel drained, as if all that power was borrowed and then returned with interest."
The room grew quiet at my words, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
"Don't worry," I continued, meeting each of their gazes.
"If things go south, I promise to step in and save you. But I want you to trust in your strength and these weapons first. You'll need to prove to yourselves that you can overcome this challenge."
Miria nodded, her grip tightening on her blade.
"We'll make sure not to waste the opportunity you've given us. Thank you."
I smiled faintly.
"Good. Now, let's prepare to end this battle once and for all."