The Completion Mission(1)

Five Years Later:

I awoke to the gentle rustling of willow leaves and the melodious chirping of canary birds, heralding the arrival of spring. All seemed harmonious in the world as the tranquil village of Hobbiton came to life, and its inhabitants began their daily routines.

The town was filled with the enticing aroma of freshly baked apple pies, lovingly prepared by the aunties. Men equipped with garden hoes and tools set out to tend to the fields. The village children's laughter warmed their hearts as they gathered with their friends to embark on their daily adventures.

Amidst this idyllic scene, I found myself yearning for a different reality. "In another world, perhaps," I mused. While my fellow villagers carried on with their carefree lives, I faced a far more pressing dilemma. If nothing changed, I was on the path to losing my manhood, a pitiable fate for a 10-year-old boy entering the spring of his youth. Forces beyond my control conspired to strip me of my masculinity, and I felt powerless to stop it.

"What could I do?" I mused rhetorically, my voice echoing in the silence.

Whenever I probed my partner about the elusive 'Tower of Heaven' or its hidden location, the response remained consistent, a cryptic refrain: "The Host must undertake the journey and discover for himself. There are no missions too impossible for the Host. Lord <Orion > places his faith in you, so the Host must believe in himself. The system encourages the Host to embark on this adventure to ensure he doesn't become a she."

I refrained from venting my frustrations, fully aware of the fickle nature of my observing constellation. Resigned, I attempted to explore, only to have my every escape plan thwarted by none other than my very own grandfather. He persistently inquired about my eagerness to depart, despite our prior agreement that I would set out at the age of ten. However, my "golden finger" bound me to secrecy, preventing me from revealing any information that might jeopardize its existence

I yearned to confide in Gamgee about my desire to rescue the imprisoned residents of Bluebell, but the truth behind my intentions remained a tightly guarded secret. Whenever I attempted to fabricate a story, he saw right through my falsehoods, chuckling knowingly as if he could discern my authentic motives. Cursing that wily old sage for his astute understanding of my character, I couldn't help but wonder why it was so challenging for others to accept that I harbored a true hero complex.

Even if the system allowed me to disclose the dire consequences of failure, it seemed implausible that he would entertain such an extraordinary notion. Perhaps I could concoct a tale about Adonis cursing me with emasculation if I failed to free our fellow Bluebell inhabitants. But then, what if the stubborn old man remained unmoved? I couldn't help but wonder if, deep down, he secretly yearned for a granddaughter instead.

The old man, to his credit, indulged my persistent inquiries about whether he had received any updates from his friend Yajima regarding the tower. Nevertheless, it was becoming evident that all the council's efforts to unveil the tower's location had come to naught. Their fruitless endeavors had reached such a point that were it not for the sporadic encounters with the cult over the years, they might have begun doubting the veracity of the discreet reports submitted by Yajima. 

For a brief moment, a notion flickered in my mind, suggesting that my transmutation magic might hold the key to restoring my masculinity in the face of failure and its consequences. Yet, as swiftly as that idea emerged, I forcefully banished it from my thoughts, recognizing that in the presence of someone as formidable as <Orion >, there was no conceivable way that my feeble abilities could ever counteract his potent curses.

If there was a solitary glimmer of hope, it lay in my grandfather's offer of an early departure should I manage to outduel him. Yet, the gravity of the challenge loomed large; the old man never held back, revealing an unyielding resolve even when facing his very own grandson. Each of our 'sparring' sessions served as a stark reminder of the vast chasm between myself and Tempest, leaving me battered and bruised, returning to the village clinic, my body swathed in bandages that symbolized yet another defeat. Despite my earnest efforts and improvements over the years, the chasm between us appeared only to widen.

And improved I had.

- Name: Magna Swing

- Alias: Weird Glasses Yankee

- Magic: Fire Magic

- Age: 20

- Height: 169 cm

- Blood Type: B

- Eyes: Light Grey

- Hair: Don't Ask

- Country: Clover Kingdom

- Occupation: Magic Knight

- Squad: Black Bull

- Progress: 99% 

I had braced myself for the long haul, considering Light's warning that completing my initial templates could consume years of my life. However, the reality I faced was nothing short of exasperating. After reaching 55%, each subsequent improvement demanded days of unwavering dedication, characterized by the investment of blood, sweat, and tears. It frustrated me to think that if that old man had allowed my departure when I was just four, I might have already completed numerous templates by now.

In the rural expanse where I resided, quests were a scarce commodity, particularly since the bandits had grown wary of venturing into the area following a recent mishap. Furthermore, the presence of Fiore's Rune Knights had intensified, discouraging any rogue activities. Consequently, the sole avenue of progress lay through relentless training. It wasn't until my eighth year that a sobering realization dawned on me. I had missed a golden opportunity. I could have accepted Gramps' offer and temporarily joined Fairy Tail, honing my skills and gaining experience until I reached the age of ten. Then, like many of Gramps' acquaintances, I could have ventured out to establish my guild.

To fathom that a mere 1% stood between me and forging a connection with Vetto was maddening. Just a single, solitary percentage point. I had hit 99% over a week ago, and despite my relentless efforts, it appeared that nothing would shift that stubborn number. "Damn it, Light! Give me a hand here. How do I finish this template?"

The familiar tone of the system chimed in, and Light's response left me fuming.

*DING!* "Acknowledged. The host can commence Magna's completion mission at his convenience."

"…Completion mission?" I inquired, my voice barely above a whisper.

*DING!* "For templates not completed via tickets or system functions, the host must undertake a specific completion mission tailored to the template. The nature of this mission can vary, depending on the particular template. Once the host reaches 99%, they are free to attempt this mission whenever they wish. There is no penalty for failing the mission."

I couldn't help but ask Light with a faux smile, "My dear Light, why didn't you inform me of this earlier?"

*DING!* "The host was informed from the outset that exploring the system's functionalities was his responsibility. Frankly put, the host never inquired."

"How the hell was I supposed to know? You've just squandered nearly two weeks of my time!" I exclaimed, exasperation coursing through my words.

The resounding silence only added to my frustration. I sighed in resignation. "Fine," I muttered, "Are there any preparations I need to make or any essential information I should be aware of?"

*DING!* "The host can initiate this mission from any location. It is advisable to choose a safe setting, as your consciousness will be transported to the mission location, leaving your physical body unguarded. Your abilities will be limited to the template pertaining to the mission. In addition to the mission details, you will lose all access to the system."

I found this to be a reasonable and manageable arrangement. Reclining on my bed, I gave the command, "Alright, Light, commence the mission!"

*DING!* "Commencing the completion mission for Magna Swing in 3...2...1. Good Luck."

As my eyes involuntarily closed, my consciousness slowly ebbed away.

------

Tap, tap, tap. The distinct cadence of footsteps echoed within the confines of what appeared to be castle walls. As my consciousness slowly resurfaced, it took mere moments for me to acclimate to the unfamiliar visage I now inhabited – Magna's form. Years of assuming his appearance had rendered it familiar.

Turning my attention to the figure striding slightly ahead of me, his hands nonchalantly tucked into his pockets, I noted the distinctive features that defined him. A series of black leather straps enshrouded his lower face, leaving openings for his nostrils and mouth, extending down to encircle his neck. The mouthpiece revealed his sharpened teeth, while the final strap, thicker and studded, lent him an imposing aura. His black shirt covered only his shoulders, upper arms, and the upper part of his back, exposing his noticeably pale complexion. His fiery crimson hair swept upwards, resembling a blaze. Adorning his visage were two metal studs above his right eyebrow and three below his lower lip, set into the straps toward the left side.

"Zora?" I silently questioned.

Zora glanced back at me and urged, "Come on, hurry up; we don't know how the others are faring."

Without restraint, I blurted out, "Right! Zora, my man!" The sudden outburst perplexed me. It took another moment to comprehend that although I now occupied Magna's body with my consciousness, I lacked control over it.

Zora turned his head, his expression revealing a hint of bewilderment. "Who's your man?" he inquired with a tinge of uncertainty, before shifting his focus back ahead. We reached the end of the hallway, and as we peered inside, the mysteries of our surroundings began to unfold.

Before me lay a scene of sheer carnage and unrelenting devastation. Within the expansive, circular chamber, remnants of rubble and fractured walls bore witness to the malevolent energies that had ravaged the space. Amid this apocalyptic backdrop, two figures came into focus.

The first figure remained standing, utterly unscathed, his countenance bearing a condescending smirk as he gazed down upon his companion. His form was almost entirely cloaked in a dark-colored substance, an eerie manifestation of his dark power. Two pairs of bat-like wings extended from his back, while a set of formidable horns adorned his forehead, with additional bull-like horns sprouting from the sides of his head. A fracture-like pattern rippled across the lower expanse of his wings, extending from the center of the mark on his body. Dark lines etched a sinister path along the length of his limbs and horns. A contrasting light-colored substance carved another mark on his face, adding to the enigma of his appearance. A black substance seemed to meld his crown with his head, giving it an otherworldly, fused quality. His once ordinary ears had transformed into pointed tips, and his eyes, now bearing vertical red slits, exuded a predatory aura. A grotesque scar, extending from his left shoulder to his right, marred the expanse of his chest, centered on a white pointed circle outlined by another concentric circle. Even his tail bore a similar symbol, completing the eerie, enigmatic picture.

The second figure clung to support himself, his feet crouched to prevent a fall. His form, however, had undergone a disturbing transformation. Light green blades sprouted from his body, akin to the appendages of a praying mantis, tethering him to this nightmarish reality. His garments lay in tatters, baring a battered, blood-stained physique, a pitiable sight indeed.

He stood tall and lean, with striking gold eyes that shone starkly against his medium-length, neatly combed black hair. On the left side of his face, a thin, crimson scar or birthmark extended from his forehead, tracing a painful path down to his chin. This disfiguring mark crossed over his left eye and concluded its cruel journey at the left corner of his mouth. His features were sharply defined, his eyes piercing and his mouth a mere slit.

As I observed these two individuals, the realization dawned on me. "Jack and Dante," I mused, beginning to piece together the disconcerting puzzle of this formidable mission.

Still without control over the body, Zora and I observed the unfolding exchange in silence, ensuring our presence remained undetected. Jack, in his kneeling stance, launched a death scythe toward Dante, aiming to cleave him in two. Even as Dante suffered the slashing attack, he stood there with a sinister grin, the gaping wound rapidly healing. Extending his arms, he commenced a monologue.

"Your magic appears quite adept at adapting to match your opponent's magic. But my Body Magic has surpassed even that. I must say, I'm impressed that you've managed to hold on this long. However, you're at your limit..."

"Enough," Jack interjected, his tone dripping with menace. "I. Am Going. To Slash You!!!" Blood trickled from his head, but he showed no gratitude for Dante's acknowledgment.

The Zogratis sibling responded calmly, his words punctuated by a disconcerting smile that unveiled his devilish teeth. He pointed his right palm at Jack, his dilated white pupils revealing a sinister intent as he passed his sentence. "Allow me to express my gratitude for the entertainment. I shall end you most spectacularly!"

At that moment, I caught sight of Zora's grimoire suspended in the air, its pages flipping, and his ash magic slowly diffusing throughout the room, concealing Jack's presence effectively.

Dante appeared visibly startled by this sudden intrusion.

I could only observe in silence as Magna clenched his fist, conjuring his signature exploding fireball, and hurled it at Dante. However, unlike mine, Magna's attack lacked the sheer impact I could deliver due to our substantial difference in mana. Instead of anger, Dante's reaction was one of bemusement. The fiery blast seemed more like an irritating mosquito bite than an attack from someone of Dante's formidable strength. He peered through the smoky ash that veiled the room as Magna and Zora advanced one after the other, positioning themselves in front of the injured captain.

With a confident smirk, Magna addressed his adversary. "Yo... Chief!!"

"Huh?" was Dante's initial response to our sudden presence. As a moment passed for the gears to turn in Dante's mind, he looked down on us with utter disdain and spoke condescendingly, "Nobodies like you shouldn't even be here."

Jack echoed that sentiment, expressing his disbelief. "Why are you dweebs here? Get lost!" he commanded.

Dante continued to build on Jack's dismissal, his tone dismissive. "You heard him. There's nothing you can do-"

However, Magna cut him off decisively. "We're here to take you down and rescue Captain Yami."

Dante regarded us with a condescending expression, as though he were dealing with a pair of utter imbeciles. He let out a sigh and began to speak. "There are those who can entertain me even if their magic is weaker than mine, like him," he said, gesturing to Captain Jack. "However, your magic is far too feeble. It doesn't seem to be Anti-Magic or some unique arcane stage magic. Even if you both engage me simultaneously, it would be utterly pointless..."

But, as if adhering to a recurring theme, Magna interrupted Dante once again. With a nervous smile and sweat pouring down his cheek, he spoke up, "Don't misunderstand, pal." Then, he pointed dramatically, declaring, "I'm taking you down... all by myself!"

Dante's glare of pure disdain crumbled swiftly, giving way to a frenzied and malevolent fit of laughter. Magic surged from him, dwarfing even the might of Tempest. "Heh heh heh... if I were you," he taunted, "I'd refrain from mocking me."

Not only did Magna and I tense up, but we also felt the malevolent force emanating from Dante bearing down on us in relentless waves, threatening to extinguish our lives should we utter anything amiss. Dante's widening eyes bore into our very souls as he issued his ominous declaration, "I'm telling you... taking you on won't even count as a fight!!"

Yeah I know, I could hear Magna's thoughts intertwining with my own, memories and images that did not belong to me flashing before my mind's eye. The recollection of Asta and Yami's combined efforts against Dante played out like a vivid cinematic scene. Magna's thoughts kept pouring in as he clenched his fist. He knew how formidable Dante was. His sense of helplessness during the incident when Zenon captured his captain was still fresh in his memory, kept at bay by Zora's restraint. "That spell isn't complete yet! If you rush out there now, you won't be any help. You'll only meet your end or become a hindrance!" Zora's blunt words had shaken him to the core, and he had dropped into a pit of despair, accepting the harsh truth.

I know you're though... and I know I'm weak! Those thoughts continued to surface. But... I can't just go back to everybody else and pretend that it doesn't bother me!!!

Our thoughts were abruptly interrupted as Dante continued his cold proclamation. "I have no intention... of using any of my magic... on garbage... like you. Attack as much as you like! Once you're satisfied, get lost!"

In response, I could sense Magna's nervous smirk, aligning with my own, as we shouted in unison, "Oh yeah? Alright, then, I'll take you up on that!" A fiery sphere formed in our right hand, which we promptly hurled at our adversary.

The ensuing explosion revealed Dante, who stood there completely unperturbed and untouched. "And? So what?" he inquired nonchalantly. However, his indifferent demeanor waned as two magic circles materialized on our respective chests, connected by a chain of flames. "A chain? What's this?" he questioned with curiosity.

That curiosity swiftly gave way to morbid shock and astonishment as Dante felt his mana draining, causing his 100% transformation to regress to 50%.

Seizing the moment, Magna and I raced toward him, our thoughts echoing in tandem. "What? This is only half? That's insane. There's no way a commoner like me could conjure this much magic," we exclaimed aloud. Flaming knuckle dusters took shape on our hands as we approached Dante. Simultaneously, we contemplated the purpose of this spell. "That's why I developed this technique," we thought.

With full force, we swung our right fists and the knuckle brace they held, connecting with Dante's left cheek while internally naming our spell 'Secret Flame Magic: Soul Chain Death Match!' Dante looked at us, a mix of confusion and pain on his face. In a moment of compassion, we decided to elucidate what was transpiring.

"I've merged your magic with mine... and then divided it equally! This is how I stand against you ultimate types. Be it peasant or not... Magna Swing of the Black Bulls... is going to crush you!" we declared with passion, veins throbbing on our foreheads. At that point, I could feel Magna's consciousness receding, granting me full control of our shared body.

*DING!* "Completion Mission for Magna Swing. Titled: 'Rages at Ringside' Description: Kill Dante Zogratis! Status: Optional Failure: No progress Reward: Template Completion and ?"