The Summoner's Trial (BC)

A six-year-old with striking blue hair, a mirror image of Grimmjow from Bleach, lay unconscious in the training room, his small frame marred by bruises and cuts. His eyes fluttered open, and with a groggy shake of his head, he massaged his tired eyes.

"I lost again," he muttered, a sigh escaping his lips.

This child, Atlas Astor, was no ordinary boy—he was a reincarnator, reborn into a noble merchant family. The training room he occupied was constructed at his behest, a testament to his relentless pursuit of strength.

Rising unsteadily to his feet, Atlas summoned once more. A large purple magic circle flared to life beneath him, and from its center emerged a figure: an old man with slick black hair, streaked with a single white lock. Ra's Al Ghul stood before him, an imposing presence.

"You lack talent, but it's your persistence that sets you apart," Ra's said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Come again, child. Fight as though your life depends on it."

To Ra's, Atlas was not just a boy; he saw in him the fire of Bruce Wayne, the potential for greatness. Atlas nodded, his resolve hardening as he took a fighting stance. He dashed forward, aiming a punch at Ra's stomach. But with a swift motion, Ra's deflected the blow and countered with a brutal shoulder bash that sent Atlas crashing to the ground.

Undeterred, Atlas scrambled to his feet, his eyes burning with determination.

Ra's smirked, shrugging off his shirt, revealing a physique honed by centuries of combat. He assumed a fighting stance, his eyes narrowing. "Prepare yourself. I will mold you into an unstoppable monster."

Atlas grinned, a thrill coursing through him. "This is why I summoned you in the first place."

They charged at each other, the air crackling with tension. Ra's launched the first attack, a punch aimed at Atlas's face. With both hands, Atlas managed to deflect it downward, only to face a swift left hook. He blocked it with his right hand, pain shooting through his arm, but he retaliated with a steep kick.

Ra's anticipated the move, stepping back with a sneer. "Don't let it get to your head. You're still just a baby, barely opening your eyes."

Atlas tensed, sensing the oncoming storm. Ra's moved in a blur, pressing an acupuncture point that paralyzed Atlas on the spot.

"Don't be swayed by your emotions," Ra's chided, his voice cold. He unleashed a flurry of blows, each strike precise and merciless, like a master working a Wing Chun wooden dummy.

Atlas endured the barrage, every impact a fresh wave of agony. Finally, Ra's unlocked the pressure point, releasing Atlas from the paralysis. As he fell to the floor, gasping for breath, his body trembling with pain, Ra's stood over him, impassive.

"Remember, keep practicing," Ra's said, his form dissipating as he returned to the ether, a product of Atlas's summoning magic.

Lying on the cold ground, Atlas clenched his fists, his voice a rasp. "That damn teacher... but he was right. I let my emotions take control."

He stared up at the ceiling, his breath ragged, thinking, 'I never imagined he would train me.'

-Flashback-

A younger Atlas, just five years old, paced back and forth, his small brow furrowed in thought. His mind raced, wrestling with the reality he now faced.

'I'm in the world of Black Clover with Summoning Magic,' he mused, a hand resting on his chin. 'But what should I do with it?'

An idea sparked in his mind. 'What if I summon someone from another world to train me?' A smirk curled his lips. 'That could work.'

Without hesitation, he extended his hand. "Let's give it a try."

A magic circle materialized in front of his palm, glowing with a mystical energy. From within it, a figure emerged—a presence that would forever change Atlas's life. It was Ra's Al Ghul.

Ra's fixed his gaze on the young boy, instantly recognizing the source of his summoning. Though unfamiliar with this specific magic, he knew it was potent, and the boy before him, though small, had a spark of potential.

"What is my purpose here, child?" Ra's inquired, his voice calm but edged with authority. He noticed the fear in Atlas's eyes—something rare and intriguing. Not many dared to fear him so openly.

"I... I accidentally summoned you," Atlas stammered, his voice trembling. "I'm so sorry."

Inside, Atlas was already preparing for the worst. 'Looks like my second life might be cut short right here,' he thought grimly.

"Can you send me back?" Ra's asked, his tone betraying no impatience.

"It should happen automatically when my magic runs out," Atlas replied, a mix of relief and dread in his voice.

"I can wait," Ra's said evenly. But then his eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Tell me, why did you summoning in the first place?"

Atlas hesitated but decided to be honest. "I wanted someone to teach me... I need to kill the devils roaming around before they kill me."

At the mention of devils, a smile played on Ra's lips. The situation intrigued him more than he had anticipated. 'A child willing to fight devils?' He found this fascinating.

"Child," Ra's began, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "how about I offer you my teachings?"

"Really?" Atlas's eyes widened in surprise. "If you're truly offering, I'll accept it."

Ra's smirked, already seeing the potential in the boy before him. In Atlas, he saw not just a student, but a new tool—a weapon to be honed to perfection.

-Ends-

"But he did keep his promise," Atlas murmured, though his body remained immobile from the injuries. "I've grown stronger under his brutal tutelage."

When his strength returned, Atlas pushed himself up and left the training room. Outside, a line of maids awaited him, their faces impassive, betraying no reaction to the fresh bruises and cuts marking his skin.

"The bath is ready, young master," one maid announced.

"Your meal will be served when you've finished," added another.

"This is your water, young master," said a third, offering a jug.

Atlas drank deeply, draining it in one go before handing it back. "Thank you. I'll take the bath now."

"Right this way, young master," the maid replied, leading him to the bathing chamber.

Sinking into the warm tub, Atlas felt the tension in his muscles begin to ease. Moments later, Eli, his personal maid, entered. With her short green hair and muscular frame, she was a stark contrast to the other servants. Silently, she began to heal his injuries, her hands glowing with restorative magic.

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"Thank you, as always," Atlas said, his voice softened by the warmth of the bath.

"You're welcome," Eli replied, her tone steady but laced with concern. "Your injuries are worse than usual."

"Yes," Atlas admitted, the word barely more than a sigh.

"Is your training becoming too much? It's getting more dangerous each day," Eli ventured, guilt flickering in her eyes. She had wanted to intervene countless times, but Atlas had forbidden it.

"That's the point," Atlas said firmly. "If it wasn't dangerous, I wouldn't grow. My strength and magic reserves are increasing because of it."

"Why do you push yourself so hard?" Eli asked, her voice a whisper.

"I have to," Atlas answered, his gaze unwavering. "There's no other reason."

After the bath, Atlas dressed in comfortable clothes and sat down to the meal prepared for him. As he took a bite, his senses sharpened. 'Poison.' He scanned the room subtly, his eyes landing on the culprit. Yet, he said nothing, merely smiling as he continued to eat.

Later, in the quiet of his room, Atlas sat cross-legged on his bed, closing his eyes to meditate. He focused on his mana, shaping and controlling it with precision, inching closer to unlocking Mana Zone.

As night gave way to dawn, the first light of the sun found Atlas outside the mansion, running tirelessly to build his stamina. The morning air was cool, but his body burned with exertion.

Two hours had passed, his legs moving in a steady rhythm. Even the knights, just arriving on duty, paused in surprise at the sight of the young master's relentless training.

"Twenty more laps," Atlas muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.

From a distance, Eli observed with quiet pride. 'Miss, your son has grown stronger—stronger than you ever imagined. He will make you proud.'

After completing his laps, Atlas reached for a jug of water that Eli had prepared. He drank it all in one go, then immediately began his next regimen—calisthenics and weight training. The exercises would have exhausted a normal person, but Atlas remained on his feet, relishing the warmth of the sunlight and the cool breeze on his skin.

"Eli, I'm going to take a nap," Atlas said as he headed back inside.

He slept for two hours, with Eli by his side, healing his worn-out body. When he awoke, he felt revitalized, ready for more. He made his way to the training room, where he summoned his teacher.

"I'm ready," Atlas declared, assuming his fighting stance.

"Begin," Ra's commanded, his hands clasped behind his back.

Atlas charged forward, determined...

...

Moments later, Atlas lay sprawled on the ground, his body battered. Ra's stood over him, his gaze sharp. "Your memorization is abysmal—worse than that of an animal. I need to ingrain these techniques into your mind and body until they become second nature."

"I know," Atlas groaned, clutching his bruised stomach. The sting of Ra's words does bothered him.

"The humans in my world and yours have different limits," Ra's continued. "I want to see how far yours can be pushed."

Despite knowing what awaited him, Atlas forced himself to his feet, his injuries screaming in protest. But he raised his fists, ready to continue.

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This story will uploaded one chapter per week and it will be on every monday. So, see you guys