In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
Shattered Grimoires is the work of the mind(s) of Ardere & Shattered Grimoire's staff. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. Black Clover is owned by Yuki Tabata and published by Viz Shonen Jump. All images belong to their original owners. The theme you are currently viewing was made by Eliza of ElizaCodes exclusively for Shattered Grimoires.
The first town he stopped in had a slow building up, but overall didn't help in his journey. After asking around he did find out that not that far, only a couple miles, was a town busting with people. They had erected wooden walls around itself and even had a Mayor whom was strong enough to stop bandits from making the rounds there. All that meant to Big Mo was that he could have a decent meal, and he was right. At this very moment he was sitting a moderately populated pub. He wasn't sitting alone, he had a guest in front of him. They were drinking each took a shot and whomever could handle their drink paid for the round. Having been here for a few hours he had beaten over five people. Each time he had good conversations with them, as that was the goal of the game. The more someone was under the spirits the easier it was to get their true feelings on things he was asking. Big Mo didn't play it with any goal in mind, what he needed to know would come to him sooner or later. "It was good talks! Good talks!"
He'd wave at the Man as he stumbled away. The game ended when the food ordered hit the table. His big tummy wasn't just from drinking drinking so much, his appetite was part of the reason. But to him it was the best thing in life To drink freely and eat till you was fill. At his age there was no hope, desire, or point in becoming a Magic Knight. But each of the people he had spoken with wished they had done so in their youth. It was strange, but he didn't clown their dream. Rather he wished he could help them if he could. As he ate he began to realize more and more that he didn't have dreams. Not the ones that everyone else shared. He just wanted to find out if what that Crone said was true.
It was around midnight, but this place was still going strong. Big Mo didn't know if it was a Friday or Saturday, but the feeling was. Despite the torrent of rain outside it was comfortably warm inside. He had already purchased the attic, as he didn't enjoy staying in places he didn't drink in. If they could take his yul for food and drink, they should rent out their attic or basement. And with how convincing Big Mo was, that is usually what happened.
His grimoire sat on the table, unlike the others he had seen he didn't know if he had a clover on it. The book was tattered and stained black in the middle. He doesn't remember if this was due to his time at the tower, or due to bad luck. He'd finish his plate but before he finished his drink he'd make a wish. "I hope the sixth has some fun stories to tell me."
A low rumbling noise would escape from Mimir's lip. The fine red wine that he was drinking had slowly made its way back up his esophagus in the form of a burp. His tanned cheeks would soon become replaced by a shade of red. It was rare that he got drunk, but he felt the need to do so. For months he was travelling across the land and to be honest he just needed a break to let off some steam. At the moment he sat at a bar within the local pub eyeing the many individuals that made their way in and out of it. None caught his eye, but occasionally his eyes would roam towards the side of the room where a fun drinking game was going on. The show did entertain him quite a bit as he drunk his wine. The never ending opponents of the old man always met their demise and Mimir was intrigued by that. Who knew such a old soul could keep down their alcohol.
Finishing the last swallow of his wine, he jump from his stool and make his way towards the old man's table. With elegance he would take his seat across from the old man with a slight drunken smile on his face. "It seems like you can hold your own." said Mimir ecstatically. His eyes would roam towards the book on the table and he would assume that it was either a grimoire, or a diary. Letting out a small breath, Mimir would say "Don't mean to interrupt your meal, but it seems like this table has had fun for hours on in. How about we make a wager. Ten shots and a thousand gold. The first to tap wins." With a slight movement he would produce a bag of gold and sit it on the table. It was within arm's reach of the old man, but he wasn't worried about him taking it. After all, everyone here was enjoying their time amidst the turmoil that was happening around the world.
"Huehuehue, pretty boy! Pretty Boy! You have a deal! Thousand yul is the most wagered this night!" Big Mo was a Master drinker in is head, and would take a bet dealing with it without a second thought. Along with that he can tell a lot about people he meets for the first time. Unlike the others this one was different, he felt that. A Child loved by Mana, just as he. The sixth would be the last tonight, Big Mo knew that at least. This game would put him at his limit, as he had only ten drinks left in him. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his sack of yul, the size matching his guests. Big Mo wouldn't motion for a waiter, they didn't need one at this moment. The mugs on the table were clean enough and would serve their purpose. Reaching down underneath the table he'd bring forth a bottle not opened. It was a old bottle of spirit, similar to the others empty on the table. Which age it was stronger than anything he had tonight despite being of the same brand.
Removing the cork with his teeth he'd let the contents fill two mugs after. The bottle was big, the size of Big Mo's arm. It should be enough to allow them to play their game twice over if they wanted. But it would only be needed for one. Big Mo would leave the bottle on the table, as it would be used again till someone tapped. Unless the Boy wouldn't be able to handle the first round. "They call me Big Mo, nothing more. Nothing less. Except Witches who call me Bald, and Dwarves that call me fat! Huehuehue! We drink at the same time, that is the rule. After five minutes we drink again! In that time of pause we can talk if you want, friend. Those eyes tell me you've seen a lot in your short claim to life. "
Just like the other games he explained how he played it. Sooner or later everyone talks. Not even Big Mo has been able to resist the spirits guiding his speech when they polluted his body. Even now his mouth would hold no secrets, if he had any. He was close to singing also, but probably would not. The night was old, but the moment was just starting. One to hopefully remember.
Mimir smirked as the man agreed and pulled out his own sack of Yul. The night was slowly turning into another day and he knew that this would probably be one of the most important days he would have in a long while. His eyes would roam around the bar and back to the old man, watching as his made various movements and produced a bottle of alcohol from beneath the table. With a swift motion, the old man would uncork the bottle with his teeth and explain the rules of the game. He had introduced himself as Big Mo which sounded quite odd for Mimir. However, he wasn't from the Clover Kingdom. Some names and even words he heard were absent in his homeland. It seemed like he had met yet another individual whose name sounded unique. Nodding as a sign of agreeing to the rules, he would reply "Yes, yes, yes. Everything sounds good. Unlike yourself I don't really have many names. My mother named me Mimir, but here and there a few people call me Gold. Hell! I even got called Knight Killer by a few people a couple towns ago."
After introducing himself, Mimir would grab a lone glass from the table with one hand and use the free one to grab the bottle of alcohol. With a steady display of movements he would pour a small amount in the glass and place it back in the middle of the table. His elbow would connect with the table while the hand holding the small glass hovered above it. He hadn't noticed before, but since he was more focused, Mimir could see that the old man's eyes were a shade of red. A red that looked like his own despite the wrinkles surrounding them. "Pour up old man. Lets go ahead and get this game started." whispered Mimir while letting out a slight chuckle.
He could hear the laughter and screaming die down in the bar as both eyes and hears were on the two seated individuals. To Mimir and Big Mo the game was nothing but a game. But even the commoners could feel the mana that radiated from the two. They were like a light switch. At one moment their flow of energy was non-existent, but in a snap a life could be taken by the embrace of the reaper himself.
Big Mo didn't even notice Goldy pouring himself another glass. There was nothing wrong with it, so it didn't warrant much attention. There was no time limit to drink the mug he filled, it just needed to be done when one of them finished theirs. However the words he said did peak interest. Names were powerful, even if they aren't the born ones. And with how the attention was on them Big Mo felt it was due to the killing Goldy had committed. This wasn't the most lawless of lands in the world, but even Big Mo doesn't casually speak on anyone he had taken from this world. He wondered if he actually killed a Magic Knight, as he needed someone like that. The Witch had said a weak old Man would need a sword in order to help change the world. It was too soon to think that deep at the moment. Instead of thinking anymore Big Mo would take his mug into his hand, and knock back all the contents within it. Despite lifting it high up he didn't allow anything to go past his thick lips.
Looking up for a second he took time to speak, returning his gaze to Goldy at the tail end of his sentence. "Would you mind telling why they call you Knight Killer?"
Big Mo just couldn't get that out of his head. He wanted to hear the story of how someone could be given that name. With how others turned their attention to them, he knew others wouldn't mind it. Through his life he had heard and told many stories, most were lies. He couldn't say he could tell the difference between the truth and lies, but there was a feeling he wanted to experience.
As the old man made moves to consume the beverage, Mimir would do the same. The cup would move to his lips and soon after a warm liquid would travel down his throat. Mimir was fully aware of alcohol and its effects. Hell, where he was from even children the age of twelve drunk it like milk from a mother's breast. After the liquid finally made its way to his stomach, he would throw his head up in joy. Soon after Big Mo would question him about the nickname he had been given by a few commoners. His lips would begin to curl upwards into a smirk, pouring another glass to satisfy his need of winning the battle at hand. The room was already quiet, but even the whispers had died down seeing as everyone wanted to know why a man roamed around a town calling himself a Knight Killer.
"Well it isn't as bad as it sound Old Man. Just a few months ago Magic Knights clad in green attacked me for no apparent reason. I simple defended myself and a couple of them died. Now I am a man wanted across the lands for taking the life of the so called heroes of this country. It seems like self defense doesn't exist here." said Mimir, his eyes once again travelling around the bar. He took in the faces of everyone that watched and listened. Even in the Forsaken Region there were spies looking for a man who was labeled as a Rogue citizen. He wasn't even a citizen of this country and hadn't even committed a crime. "Hahahaha! I dare them to come looking for me. I don't want to kill any more of them, but if it comes down to it... I will!" laughed the golden haired teenager.
With his glass newly refilled, Mimir would wait for Big Mo's actions to begin the second round. It was rare that he talked about himself and why he was labeled as a criminal. Maybe he wanted to gloat a little, or maybe he was simply a drunken man in a bar babbling about his past.
Big Mo could do nothing but join into the laughter. He was no sadist, it was just contagious. He envied the youth as they were always so rowdy. He believed every word from the Mouth Goldy. But what stood out from the story was the color of the Magic Knights robes. The fellow that died in the Outer Forest had the same color. The Witch explained he would learn more as he traveled to Babel about the groups he would need to take care of first. She only mentioned three colors, a Animal, and spoke about the Church. "Do you know what these green knights call themselves?"
As he awaited a response he would down the second glass, taking it to the head like he did the first. He wasn't, that, drunk but that one made him start feeling the spirits just a little more. It warmed his tummy the most and made his smile stretch from cheek to cheek. His nose brighten a cherry red, matching his eyes. He loved a good brew. But he still was in search of a certain brand, that was discontinued over ten years ago.
Big Mo would do a quick glance to his left, and then to his right. He didn't mind them all enthralled with their conversation. It was natural for those drunk as well to want to be entertained. But, he did notice that a few had eyes that couldn't be trusted. He locked eyes with one, but they broke the exchange. Getting up he watched them leave, but felt they would return soon enough. Unbothered and not worried he hoped they'd return. The night was over, and the morning was in its early stages. But this moment was just get started. The more events that took place would allow for a better chance of it all to stick with Big Mo.
He awaited Big Mo's question and soon it would come following the quick gulp of a second shot. Mimir would follow the old man's lead and take his second shot as well. Already he could feel the effects of his drunken state amplify just from the second shot travelling through his system. This would cause him to his head in a quick motion, rattling his brain a little. Once again he would pour another shot, but this time it would be for the third round. "Damn. That's some find stuff you have here in this bottle. What is it." asked Mimir before answering the man's question. He would allow some time to pass as he awaited the man's answer. In response he would say "Their name? Hmm, Mantis Prayer? No that isn't it. Praying Mantis? Naw that doesn't sound right either." His mind would linger both from having the name on the tip of his tongue, as well as due to the effects of his drunkenness.
Soon the answer would erupt causing him to hold a single finger in the air. "Aw, I know the name now. The Green Mantis! Quite a bland name if I do say so myself, but it seems all of the Magic Knight organizations have names of the same quality. There's one called the Azure Deer and even one called Crimson Lions. Who knows how many more there are out their." said Mimir with an ecstatic tone. It was true, he hadn't encountered many Magic Knights besides the Green Mantis. Although, there was that one girl in the forest. However, her cape was covered with golden fur and he hadn't yet come across any other of the same kind. He would need to find out about that particular group in the future. Who knew what discovering them could bring himself?
"I am not sure, but it truly is the best I've had in a while! I fear this is the last bottle in this place though, the rest is nothing more than piss." Big Mo would speak after pouring for the third round and finishing his third drink. Despite wanting to talk more he did still want to win this drinking game. He has lost in many things but rarely has he lost in indulging in his pleasures. And with the thought of winning he wanted to move at a quick pace when drinking in this moment. Tongues got looser the more they were saturated in the spirits. "It is silly how they name themselves Knight, but I suppose they do it out of convenience. However in my eyes, they are nothing more than what they would call you. They just have been given leeway due to the flawed Kingdom. I've studied their history, and they eventually will create another war soon. One that'd consume towns like this. But they'll just blame it all on individuals, like you and I."
He was rambling, as that is what he does at this level of intoxication. He did not see the future, but knew that War was indeed going to return. It had to in order for a true change to come. Murmurs began to happen due to his words, these types of talks always could cause a stir. But the truth was harsh. His smile did not fade however as he accepted everything he had said. Looking around again a few had returned to their own business, out of fear or disinterest. But those still listening in he knew had more the wanted to know. The talks between these two at this point could be left public. Having rumors spread was always good. And if placed in enough places will create a network of whispers across the world. That was main reason Big Mo spoke about his opinion so openly and loud. And he was glad he had someone that spoke their mind rather than hold their tongue on their feelings.
Mimir smiled at the old man's words and took a swallow from the glass. As he drunk the alcohol he could feel his body stiffen causing his hand that was holding the glass to spasm a little, releasing it from his grip. In an instant the small glass would fall to the table and shatter, sending shards of glass flying in a small radius. The room that had went back to talking would also quiet down. For what seemed like minutes would pass before everyone howled in laughter, even Mimir himself. "Hahahaha! Three rounds! I didn't expect this outcome." announced Mimir, his speech slurred as he was as drunk as a skunk. However, even if he was drunk, he took in what the old man said and focused solely on his words in order to keep from either falling out, or doing something considerably stupid.
"Old man! I agree with you a hundred times. Those knights roam these lands like they own the place. This country is far worst than Windland if I do say so myself. I feel like it is time for someone to put them in their place, but of course not many will rise to the cause. Either they are scared, or they are simply blinded by the act of wanting to become a Magic Knight themselves." Mimir's words were full of honesty no matter how drunk he was. He didn't like the Magic Knights and could care less if they died out. If he was to roam these lands for the rest of his life, why not do it without having to watch over his shoulders for people dressed in the colors of a rainbow. He would grab the bag of gold and throw it to the old man, saying "Old Man Mo how bout we join together. Create some screams here and there. This life of moving from bar to bar is beginning to annoy me and I'd rather be out there where the action is. At the moment the name Knight Killer is a simple legend across these parts. In a few months it can be known across the lands far and wide for all those who align with them to fear!" His words traveled loudly through the bar amplified by his drunken state.
He didn't care if anyone heard what they were talking about. At best if his speech of terrorism got out it would simply be a rumor that could be gone with the wind.
It was his win, and he caught the sack of yul. In the past he wouldn't have had this talk or even stayed any longer after coming up. But this wasn't the past this was the precious present. A moment that will never leave the mind of Big Mo. To cement it he wanted to speak at lengths for the people around, as he would not return to this town. He'd open the sack and count each yul so all could see. This was not because he didn't trust Goldy, it was the opposite. "You are right many fear due to not knowing what numbers can really do. TO ALL STILL LISTENING! AND THOSE WANTING TO AVOID THE TRUTH! UNDERSTAND THE WORLD WILL ONLY LISTEN TO YOU IF YOU SHOW THEM YOUR WORTH! AND TO DO THAT YOU AT TIMES MUST TAKE WHAT YOU ARE OWED!" He'd take the yul into his hand and toss them into the air toward the bar. He opened the sack of his own to and do the same thing, spirits were high and those intoxicated or not would leap for the small gain. The place became more lively and the desire of Humans was shown to Goldy. Big Mo did this more so to prove the words of what he was to say next.
"Humans all fight for many different things! Doing whatever it takes to achieve their own dreams, as they should! This charity we give them is not for them to follow, but to understand that we are different from those that claim to protect them! The common folk know they don't wish for the Magic Knights to hold superiority over them, that is why the world is full of so much unrest! The Nobel blooded fools are to blame, as they corrupt the Church! Spreading lives and damning those trying to make sure food is on the table for their families. Become the Knight Killer, the defender of the people. As Magic Knights are nothing more than Corrupt Men and Women using their Magic to oppress with permission from the false protectors of the people!" He'd motion for the door, he had a cart and horse outside. It wasn't his but it would belong to him. They needed to leave this small town, as their talks had served their purpose. If Goldy would need help, as Big Mo understood the spell Spirit put on his legs, he would help him. Being a shoulder he could lean on or if he wanted to be carried that would be a option.
Despite purchasing the attic for the night, he'd not use it. If Goldy was truly willing to partner up with him and they both would get into the cart. Big Mo would opt to sit at the front of it, to guide the horse. Goldy, if he wanted, could lay in the covered back in the hay. O he could sit at the front as well. It mattered not as they would be traveling to the same destination. There journey would be a long one, and one of struggle. But Big Mo understood that this was the only path to create real change in this world. The hearts of Humans could be taken with yul or promises of change. Big Mo would make out of the town and onto the country road. He had a few stops before needing to be in Babel. Hage was the next one. There was a plan he had thought off a few days ago. One that would allow for conflict to be created between the Magic Knights themselves.
And as quickly as they met would a new friendship surely begin. Between betting, drinks, and laughs a formidable pairing was about to enter the Clover Kingdom. At the moment they were nothing but sleeping giants that needed a small push to be awakened. A push that could be as small as a display of anger at the right moment. A drunken Mimir would follow Big Mo to who knows where. His mind wandering to millions of places as he day dreamed about his homeland that he would likely be separated from for life. If he couldn't go back then he would just have to make his way through the Clover Kingdom.
Windland was far from being the same as the Clover Kingdom, but he felt that with the help of Big Mo he could change it into something that was at least as tolerable. As the days pass he knew that his and Big Mo's name would surely ring through the Clover Kingdom and probably the three others surrounding it as a pair of rogues that left death and destruction behind them at a all intervals. Whether that was true or not would be fully up two the two man. Although with a vast age difference, they were both the same. A pair of kings wanting to live in a better world.
