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Strange use of Magic (Black Clover AU) Chapter 85: Strange Beach Episode (5)
🕑 Added 2024-12-06 21:41:49 +0000 UTC[Third Person's PoV]
“Wait a minute…” Stephen muttered as he glanced toward Wanda. Then, with a sharp pivot, his gaze shifted to the vast expanse of ocean stretching endlessly before them.
A faint breeze stirred the air, but Stephen paid it no mind as he began to levitate effortlessly, rising a few feet above the ground. He crossed his legs midair, his posture serene yet commanding, as though he were a monk entering deep meditation. His grimoire floated up in front of him, its Arcane cover shimmering faintly under the moonlight. With a deft flick of his fingers, the grimoire opened itself, revealing pages alive with glowing glyphs and sigils. They pulsed with a vibrant, fiery light, radiating an energy that seemed both ancient and otherworldly.
Stephen’s eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, silence enveloped the scene. Wanda watched with quiet intrigue, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore providing a soothing backdrop. When Stephen opened his eyes again after a few minutes, a spark of brilliance danced within them. He extended his hands, and luminous magic circles materialized, their intricate designs spinning slowly in the air near his palms. The surrounding sand responded almost immediately, lifting off the ground and swirling like a miniature storm. The grains coalesced before him, forming a dense orb of sand that began to shift and mold itself under his control.
The orb elongated and flattened, gradually taking on the shape of a large, imposing book. Page by page, the sand transformed, materializing into delicate sheets that seemed almost fragile. Strange symbols and words etched themselves onto the sand-made pages as though written by an invisible hand. The process was mesmerizing—each new page appearing in rapid succession before flipping over to the next. Wanda found herself entranced, her breath hitching as she watched Stephen’s mastery of transmutation magic unfold.
Finally, the last page materialized, and the sandy book snapped shut. Slowly, the grains fell away like cascading droplets, revealing a solid tome beneath. Its cover was sleek and black, adorned with a bold red "M" encased within a crimson circle.
Stephen descended gracefully to the ground, his grimoire closing with a quiet thud as it floated back into his grasp. He held the newly-formed book in his hands for a moment before extending it toward Wanda. “Here.”
Wanda took the book with utmost care, her delicate fingers brushing against its surface. A smile broke across her face as she read the title etched into the cover. “‘The Makings of a Bonafide Witch,’” she recited, her tone laced with amusement. She glanced up at Stephen, a playful glint in her eye. “Did you come up with this title?”
Stephen looked away, his cheeks faintly tinged with embarrassment. “No…” he muttered unconvincingly, his voice barely audible.
Wanda chuckled, hugging the book close to her chest as if it were a precious treasure. ‘It’s like my very own grimoire…’ she thought, her heart swelling with gratitude. Looking up at Stephen, her smile softened. “Thank you.”
“If you have questions—or if there’s anything you don’t understand—you can always come to me or Vanessa for guidance,” Stephen offered, his voice calm yet reassuring.
“Vanessa?” Wanda tilted her head in curiosity.
Stephen sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Despite her... eccentric appearance, Vanessa is a skilled witch. Her perspective might be more useful than mine, considering, as you’ve probably noticed, I’m not exactly a witch myself.”
Wanda nodded, though her attention quickly shifted back to the book. She eagerly flipped it open to the first page, only to be greeted by a playful message in bold script: Live, Laugh, Hex.
Her laughter bubbled up unrestrained, a sound so genuine it seemed to brighten the entire moment. Beneath the message, a small note read: From Stephen.
Wiping away a stray tear of amusement, Wanda looked up at Stephen, her expression radiating warmth. “I’ll be sure to live, laugh, and hex. Don’t worry.”
Without warning, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Stephen in a heartfelt hug, the book still clutched tightly in one hand. Her voice was soft but earnest. “I’m sorry for always hugging you… I just don’t know how else to show how grateful I am.”
Wanda couldn't help it, maybe because she was imprisoned for so long that she simply loved doing it, but she couldn't help but hug Stephen once again. She just loved using physical contact to express how she was feeling.
Stephen’s hands gently rested on her back. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his tone sincere.
As they lingered in the embrace, a stray lock of Wanda’s hair fell across her face. Without thinking, Stephen reached up and brushed it behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second too long. Wanda’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink at the intimate gesture, her heart skipping a beat. She gazed up at him shyly, her crimson eyes shimmering with emotion.
“You know,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, “I’ll always be grateful to you for finding me. Not just for that—you’ve given me a place to belong, a home. And no matter how many times I say it, I could never truly express how much that means to me.”
Stephen’s hand moved to her waist, drawing her closer. Wanda didn’t resist. Instead, she placed her free hand on his cheek, her touch feather-light. She brought her other hand, still clutching the book, to rest on his shoulder as her fingers trailed to the back of his neck.
She tugged him closer, but Stephen was already there, leaning in. Their lips met in a kiss that was tender yet electrifying, a culmination of emotions that had been building between them. Wanda’s grip tightened, holding him as if afraid the moment might slip away, but Stephen had no intention of leaving. His hands settled firmly on her back, grounding them both as they surrendered to the connection they shared.
The world around them faded, leaving only the quiet roar of the ocean and the warmth they found in each other’s arms.
Their eyes remained shut, their heads tilting and shifting with the feverish passion of their kiss. Wanda’s free hand, which had been nestled at the back of Stephen’s head, slowly slid forward to cup his cheek.
Their movements were unhurried yet desperate, an unspoken longing shared through each touch. There was no hesitation, no thought of stopping, as if the moment itself demanded they abandon restraint.
When their lips finally parted, the soft pop of their disengagement was followed by the sound of labored breathing. Yet, they didn’t pull away. Their foreheads rested against each other’s, and Wanda’s crimson gaze sought Stephen’s piercing blue eyes. She bit her bottom lip, an endearing mix of hesitation and desire flickering across her expression.
“I know we shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves. Her teeth worried her lip before she continued, her eyes flicking down to his lips and back up again. “But I’m just so weak.”
Stephen’s hand brushed against her waist, his fingers tightening slightly as if grounding himself. “If you’re weak… then I’m feeble,” he replied, his voice low and rough. There was no room for denial in his words, only honesty. Without waiting for her response, he leaned in and claimed her lips once more.
Wanda couldn’t help but giggle softly against his mouth, her laughter mingling with their kiss. There was a lightness to the moment now, as though the world around them was in perfect harmony, encouraging them with a melody.
…
Meanwhile, just a short distance away, Noelle stood alone on the beach, her arms crossed and her lips curled into an angry pout. She glared at the empty rock behind her and began stomping her feet into the sand like a child in the middle of a tantrum.
“I can’t believe they actually left me!” she huffed, her voice rising in exasperation.
“Don’t they know what it means to be supportive?!” Her tirade was cut short as the sound of a faint melody reached her ears. She froze, her anger momentarily forgotten, and tilted her head toward the direction of the music.
Curiosity overtook her irritation, and she began walking toward the source of the sound. The soft, almost hypnotic tune seemed to call to her, drawing her further along the beach.
On her way, she stumbled across Asta, who was hopping on one foot, his face contorted in pain. Both of his hands were occupied, clutching his swords, and he seemed completely oblivious to her presence at first.
“What are you doing?” Noelle asked, raising an eyebrow as she took in the bizarre sight.
Asta let out a yelp before spinning around to face her, balancing precariously on one leg. “I was running toward the voice because I was curious, and I stepped on a crab! It got my toes!” he wailed, trying—and failing—to shake the offending creature off.
Noelle sighed heavily, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You’re such a child…” she muttered. With a flick of her wrist, a jet of water magic blasted the crab away, sending it skittering into the distance.
“Thanks, Noelle! You’re a lifesaver!” Asta exclaimed, beaming at her with genuine gratitude.
Noelle rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at her lips. “Just watch where you’re going next time, idiot,” she grumbled. Then, her expression grew serious as she gestured toward the direction of the music. “Let’s go. I want to know what’s behind this voice.”
Asta nodded enthusiastically, the pain in his foot already forgotten. The two of them moved cautiously toward the source of the sound, their footsteps soft against the sand. As they rounded a bend, the melody grew clearer, more hauntingly beautiful, and then they saw it.
Both of their mouths fell open in stunned disbelief. Whatever they had expected to find, it certainly wasn’t this.
Comments
Rogue_Eagle99
He’ll make a joke or comment and then mention sister lily
Cobalt
Bro tasted nirvanah 🤣🤣, genuinely curious how you're gonna write astas interaction with finding out Steve'o has a harem next chapter
