The Golden Dawn's headquarters gleamed like a fortress of perfection. Polished stone corridors, vast training halls, and shelves lined with magical tomes gave the building a sense of disciplined elegance. Yuno walked through its gates with quiet confidence, his posture upright, his hands clasped behind his back. The banners of the Golden Dawn flapped gently above him, the emblem of the kingdom's most prestigious Magic Knight squad emblazoned in gold.
"Yuno! Over here," a voice called, crisp and commanding.
He turned to see Klaus Lunettes approaching, his expression cold, his gaze sharp. Yuno inclined his head politely. "Good afternoon, Captain Lunettes," he said.
Klaus stopped a few paces from him, studying Yuno critically. His sharp eyes swept over Yuno's form, lingering on his unassuming appearance and lack of noble bearing. "So, you're the commoner who managed to get through the entrance exam," Klaus said bluntly, his tone more sceptical than welcoming.
Yuno met the captain's gaze without flinching. "Yes. That would be me."
Klaus's lips pressed into a thin line. "Don't think that passing the exam means the Golden Dawn will accept you so easily. Strength is not everything—discipline, lineage, and the ability to uphold the squad's reputation matter just as much."
Yuno's eyes remained calm, unwavering. "I understand," he replied. "I will do whatever it takes to prove myself worthy."
Klaus studied him for another long moment, his frown softening just slightly. "We'll see if you can live up to that promise, commoner." With that, he turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, leaving Yuno alone in the hallway. Despite the cold reception, a quiet determination burned in Yuno's chest. He would show them.
Meanwhile, several miles away, the Black Bulls' headquarters were anything but pristine. Smoke curled from a chimney, walls were marked with scorch damage, and the interior reeked of chaos, food, and old magic residue. Asta charged toward the main common room, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to introduce himself to his new squad.
"Hey! I'm Asta! Nice to meet you all!" he shouted, flinging his arms wide.
Silence.
A rustle here, a groan there. Someone coughed, someone else muttered angrily. Asta's excitement didn't falter. "Hello? Hello! Anyone?"
A loud crash from upstairs drew his attention. The entire wall behind him exploded into rubble, dust and debris scattering across the floor. A deep, booming laugh followed.
"BLACK BULLS!"
Asta shielded his eyes as the room fell silent in the momentary aftershock. From the pile of bricks, a towering figure emerged, arms crossed, eyes glinting with amusement. Yami Sukehiro.
"There," Yami said, dusting his hands off. "You've got their attention now."
Out of every nook and cranny, members of the Black Bulls spilt into the room. Some were leaning on walls, others sprawled across tables, and a few were mid-argument over some unseen dispute. All of them now turned toward Asta and Lyra, curiosity piqued, anticipation mixed with chaos.
Finral Roulacase floated in beside them, gesturing at the assembled squad. "Everyone, this is Asta and Lyra, our newest recruits," he announced, voice rising to be heard over the cacophony. "Meet your squadmates!"
One by one, the members revealed themselves:
Vanessa Enoteca, with her wavy crimson hair and perpetually half-lidded eyes, raised a hand lazily. A cup of something that smelled strongly of alcohol rested beside her. "New kids, huh? Cheers to that."
Luck Voltia bounced on his toes, barely containing his energy. "A new battle buddy! I can't wait to fight you!" he grinned, electric sparks occasionally sparking from his fingertips.
Gauche Adlai, holding a picture of his younger sister as always, gave a curt nod. "Don't get in my way," he said, though his eyes betrayed a softer concern beneath his sharp exterior.
Charmy Pappitson, tiny but round and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, was already nibbling on a biscuit. "Welcome! Hope you're hungry," she said cheerfully.
Grey, massive and stoic, didn't speak, but his quiet presence was enough to make the room feel grounded.
Magna Swing stomped forward, fire crackling at his fingertips, face flushed with a hotheaded expression. "Another commoner, huh? Let's see if you're worth our time."
Yami leaned back, chuckling. "The rest are out doing their own things. Some are training, some are getting wasted… don't worry about them. This lot's more than enough trouble already."
Asta's grin never faltered. "I'll show you all what I can do!"
Magna scoffed. "Prove it then. First things first—you've got to earn your squad robe. That's the initiation."
Asta's eyes widened. "An initiation ritual?" he asked eagerly.
Magna rubbed his hands together. "Yeah. Physical tests, fighting tests… and for the final trial, you're gonna block my attacks using whatever you've got. Sword, body, whatever."
Asta brandished his grimoire and sword without hesitation. "I'm ready!"
The training field outside the HQ was scorched and muddy from previous battles, but that didn't bother Asta. Magna unleashed a series of small fireballs, which Asta deflected effortlessly with his sword, each strike ringing out against the hissing flames.
"Not bad," Magna muttered, growing slightly impressed. But then he released a fireball larger than any before, spinning and surging with magic far too fast for Asta to simply slice through.
Instinct took over. Asta's grip tightened, and with honed reflexes from countless survival trials, he slammed the flat of his sword against the fireball, sending it hurtling straight back at Magna. The air rippled with the redirected magic.
Yami, watching from a distance with a single raised brow, tilted his head slightly. His eyes flickered over the blade in Asta's hand. Interesting… this sword isn't just a tool—it can cut through and even reflect magic itself.
Magna grunted as the redirected fireball exploded harmlessly in the dirt just before it could reach him. He turned, face now alight with a mixture of shock and respect. "Hah… okay, okay. Maybe you're not completely useless," he admitted, a grin forming. "Sorry for the rough start. I'm a commoner too, you know."
Asta laughed, brushing off his scorched sleeve. "No worries! I'll take any challenge!"
The rest of the squad cheered. Magna handed Asta his Black Bulls robe, slinging it over his shoulders. Vanessa, with her sharp eye for detail, quickly sewed the squad's emblem onto his headband with precision, adding her signature flair.
Next came Lyra's turn. Luck Voltia practically vibrated with excitement, ready to spar. "I get to fight the other recruit!" he exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Their duel was long, the clash of spells, blades, and nimble movements echoing across the field. Lyra's precision met Luck's raw, erratic energy, each landing countering the other's in a perfect balance of offence and defence.
Hours passed, the sun climbing high overhead, but neither could gain a clear advantage. Finally, Lyra parried one of Luck's lightning strikes and held him at the tip of her staff. Luck's grin didn't falter, and with a laugh, he lowered his hand. "Tie! You've got skill, newbie. Here—this is yours."
He handed her a neatly folded Black Bulls robe, and she accepted with her usual calm nod.
Back at HQ, Charmy had already begun preparing a feast in celebration. The aroma of roasted meats, fresh bread, and steaming stews filled the chaotic common room. Plates clattered, laughter rang out, and for the first time, Asta, Lyra, and the rest of the Black Bulls shared a meal.
Asta wolfed down the food with unrestrained joy, while Lyra sampled each dish with quiet delight, appreciating the warmth of the moment. Luck and Magna argued over who had made the better attack moves, Gauche nervously fussed over his sister's portrait, Vanessa poured drinks with an easy smile, Grey silently polished a sword, and Charmy flitted about, ensuring everyone had enough to eat.
From the balcony above, a sharp voice cut through the noise.
"Seriously? That's the other recruit?"
Noelle Silva, arms crossed and hair glinting in the sunlight, scowled down at the gathering below. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Asta cheerfully devour an entire roasted chicken leg in a single bite. "A commoner," she muttered, "and he's in the Black Bulls already? Ugh…"
She huffed, shaking her head, clearly unimpressed. "I'll have to keep an eye on him. Don't want someone like that making the squad look… undisciplined."
Below, Asta laughed, completely oblivious to the disdain above. "This is awesome! I love it here!"
Lyra smiled quietly, glancing at him as he waved at everyone. Somehow, she knew that this strange, chaotic, unpredictable group would be the place where both she and Asta could grow stronger—beyond any structured training or expectations of nobility.
Together, amid laughter, arguments, food, and camaraderie, the recruits had taken their first steps into the life of the Black Bulls. Outside, the kingdom might still judge them, challenge them, and underestimate them—but inside the walls of the Black Bulls, bonds were already forming that could not be broken.
And for Asta and Lyra, the journey to becoming Wizard King had truly begun.