The grimoire tower stood at the edge of Hage Village, its tall stone structure filled with rows upon rows of ancient books resting quietly on wooden shelves. Every child who had reached the age of fifteen had gathered inside, filling the hall with restless energy as whispers and low conversations spread through the crowd.
This was the day every magic user waited for.
The day a grimoire would choose its owner.
Among them, Asta stood calmly.
Unlike the others, who shifted nervously or spoke excitedly with their friends, he remained still, his presence naturally drawing attention. His body was far more developed than anyone else his age, his build compact yet powerful, with clearly defined muscles shaped through years of relentless training. His height had already reached that of a young adult, and even without magic, he stood out in a way no one could ignore.
That attention quickly turned into judgment.
A pair of nobles standing nearby glanced at him, their expressions shifting from curiosity to clear disdain as they observed his physique.
"…What is he doing here?" one of them muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly. "He looks like he relies on his body instead of magic."
The other gave a quiet scoff, folding his arms as he looked Asta up and down.
"Muscles are meaningless here," he said, his tone dismissive. "Magic is everything. No matter how strong your body is, without magic, you're nothing."
A faint smirk formed on his face as he leaned slightly closer.
"I've heard about him… the boy without magic. So all of that is just for show."
The two of them let out a quiet laugh, already dismissing him as someone beneath their notice.
Asta didn't react.
He didn't look at them, didn't respond, and didn't even acknowledge their presence. Their words passed through him without leaving any mark, his focus remaining steady as he looked toward the front of the tower.
Nearby, other children were far more vocal.
"I wonder what kind of grimoire I'll get. I hope it's a big one."
"They say thicker grimoires have more spells, right? That means stronger magic."
"I just want something good enough to join the Magic Knights."
Their excitement filled the hall, voices overlapping as anticipation grew with every passing second.
At the front, the tower master stepped forward.
The moment he did, the room gradually quieted, though not completely, as a few lingering whispers continued in the background. His gaze moved across the group, sharp and slightly irritated, before he spoke.
"This is the grimoire tower. You've all reached the age of fifteen, and today your grimoire will choose you." His voice echoed lightly through the hall, firm enough to command attention, yet carrying a faint edge of impatience. He paused briefly, scanning the group as some students still shifted and whispered among themselves. "Listen carefully… this region hasn't produced a single Magic Knight in years. Not one."
A few students straightened immediately.
Others didn't.
The old man's expression hardened.
"So stop fooling around and take this seriously. This isn't some festival. A grimoire reflects your magic and your potential, so if you're aiming to become a Magic Knight, then stand properly and pay attention instead of embarrassing yourselves."
That finally silenced the room.
Even the nobles stopped talking.
Then, without any further signal, it began.
Grimoires lifted from the shelves.
At first, only a few moved, drifting slowly into the air as if responding to something unseen. Then more followed, rising one after another until dozens of books floated through the hall, circling briefly before choosing their owners.
A boy gasped as a thick grimoire stopped in front of him.
"It's heavy… this is definitely a good one."
Another laughed nervously as his hovered close to his hands.
"It's coming… it's really coming."
Across the room, others reacted in similar ways, some excited, some relieved, and some clearly proud as their grimoires chose them without hesitation.
The nobles stood straighter.
Confident.
As expected.
Then the atmosphere shifted.
One grimoire moved differently.
It didn't rush forward like the others, nor did it hesitate. Instead, it drifted slowly through the air, almost deliberately, before stopping in front of Yuno.
When it opened, the cover revealed a four-leaf clover engraved on its surface.
A four-leaf clover.
Whispers spread instantly through the hall, this time filled with shock and disbelief.
"…A four-leaf…"
"That's the grimoire of luck…"
"They say only those chosen by destiny receive it…"
Even the nobles fell silent.
Yuno took the grimoire calmly, his expression unchanged as he held it beside him, completely unaffected by the attention.
"I will become the Wizard King," he said, his voice steady and certain, not loud, yet powerful enough to silence the remaining whispers.
No one laughed.
No one doubted him.
Asta watched quietly.
There was no surprise in his eyes.
No reaction.
Just observation.
Around him, more grimoires had already chosen their owners, yet none moved toward him.
Seconds passed.
Then more.
The silence around him became noticeable.
"…Why hasn't one come to him?"
"Did something go wrong?"
"…He doesn't have magic, right?"
The whispers returned, softer but sharper this time.
Asta stood still.
Unmoved.
He didn't show disappointment, didn't show frustration, and didn't even look around.
"…Not yet," he thought calmly.
After a moment, he stepped back on his own.
The ceremony continued.
But for Asta—
It wasn't over.
As the ceremony ended, the crowd gradually began to disperse, the earlier excitement fading into smaller conversations as villagers and children returned to their homes. Yuno remained surrounded for a short time, his four-leaf grimoire drawing attention from everyone nearby, while Asta quietly slipped away without saying much, his expression unchanged as if nothing important had happened.
He didn't go back to the church immediately.
Instead, he walked toward the edge of the village, heading in the direction of the open field and trees where he usually trained. The evening air had already begun to settle, and the fading light stretched long shadows across the ground as the village noise slowly disappeared behind him.
Asta exhaled lightly.
"…It should be about time."
He already knew.
The memory of what was supposed to happen remained clear in his mind, and although he could interfere early, he chose not to. If he changed the timing too much, the outcome itself might shift, and that was something he couldn't risk.
So instead, he waited.
Not far from there, Yuno walked alone, the four-leaf grimoire floating quietly beside him as he moved through the path leading away from the village. The attention from earlier had already faded, but his focus had not.
That was when two figures stepped into his path.
Nobles.
Their expressions carried the same arrogance as before, their eyes fixed on the grimoire beside him.
"So it's true," one of them said, a faint grin forming. "A four-leaf clover, and in a place like this."
The other raised his hand slightly, magic gathering without hesitation.
"Let's see if you're actually worthy of it."
Without warning, flames surged forward, forming a large wave of fire that rushed directly toward Yuno.
Yuno didn't move.
At the last moment, wind formed around him, spiraling upward as a controlled current surrounded his body. The flames struck it and split apart instantly, unable to reach him as the wind diverted the attack completely.
The nobles' expressions tightened.
"He stopped my magic… without even opening his grimoire."
But before either of them could react further—
Something else moved.
Chains.
They shot from the ground silently, faster than before, circling around Yuno from multiple directions before tightening instantly.
The wind broke.
His movement stopped.
A new presence stepped forward.
Revchi.
Chains wrapped around his arms as he looked at Yuno with a satisfied smile.
"A four-leaf grimoire… I got lucky today."
The nobles froze, realizing too late that they had stepped into something beyond them.
Asta moved.
From the edge of the clearing, he stepped forward, his pace steady as his eyes locked onto the scene. He had already expected this, already seen it in his mind before it happened, but seeing it unfold in front of him only confirmed one thing.
This was the moment.
"Let him go."
Revchi turned, his gaze shifting toward Asta as he studied him briefly.
"…Ah," he said, a faint smirk forming. "You're that boy from earlier, aren't you? The one without a grimoire."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"They were saying you don't even have magic."
He gave a quiet laugh.
"Then you should stay back… unless you want to end up like him."
Asta didn't stop.
He stepped forward.
The chains reacted instantly.
They shot toward him from the ground, fast and precise, aiming to bind him the same way they had trapped Yuno. Asta shifted his body and avoided the first strike, stepped past the second, and pushed forward again, his movements sharp as he forced his way closer.
Revchi's expression changed slightly.
"…You're fast."
More chains rose.
Faster.
Denser.
Asta kept moving, slipping through the gaps, adjusting his steps, closing the distance little by little, but as he got closer, the chains spread wider, forming a tightening zone around him. The space closed rapidly, forcing him to step back out before the trap could lock completely.
Revchi clicked his tongue.
"You can't even get close," he said coldly. "What's the point of all that training? That body… all that effort… and you still can't land a single hit."
The chains surged again.
This time they didn't give him space.
They wrapped around him.
Locked him in place.
Asta's movement stopped.
The pressure tightened around his arms and torso, forcing him down just like Yuno.
Revchi stepped forward slightly.
"In this world, magic decides everything," he said. "Without it… you're nothing."
For a moment, Asta lowered his head.
Silent.
Then—
"…I don't need magic."
His voice was calm.
Unshaken.
Revchi frowned.
"What?"
Asta raised his head slowly, his eyes steady.
"I've got something better."
Behind him—
a grimoire appeared.
Black.
Heavy.
Different.
It floated downward and opened on its own, revealing the massive sword within.
Revchi's expression shifted.
"…What is that?"
Asta's hand moved.
He grabbed the sword.
In the same instant—
he moved.
A burst of speed carried him forward as the blade swung once, and the chains shattered instantly, their magic erased the moment the sword passed through them.
Before Revchi could react—
Asta was already in front of him.
The strike landed.
Clean.
Decisive.
Silence followed.
The chains collapsed, lifeless, their magic gone, while Revchi froze in place, unable to process what had just happened.
Asta lowered the sword slightly.
His breathing steady.
His expression calm.
Behind him, Yuno watched.
Quiet.
Focused.
Asta turned slightly.
"I'll become the Wizard King."
His voice remained calm.
But absolute.
Yuno didn't argue.
"Don't get ahead of yourself… I'm the one who'll become the Wizard King."
The wind passed quietly through the clearing as the moment settled, marking the true beginning of Asta's path.