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.
At first glance, Miroh Ath appears as either an unfinished or broken sword as all you are able to see is the unusual four-inch hilt one would often associate with a rapier. The grip is a finely carved onyx with a silver inlay spiralling up it leading into silver filigree and eventually into a half lotus design. It is only when the owner of the weapon channels mana through it does it show its true potential as at the bottom of the blade two small circles and a small orb appear, and at the base of the half lotus two larger circles appear, and on the petals, a symbol appears on each that seems illegible until you finish understanding the relic, at that point, you will be able to read it and find out the name of the daemon who's energy it holds. From the torch/petal hilt is a white pure aura dagger blade which is eighteen inches long and holds a purple tint to its edges. The blade itself almost appears to be made out of flames the way it curves makes it almost look like a khopesh. In the centre of the curve, an orb can be seen, while on the outside it has four spikes that can do damage.Lore:
Junior Lore:There isn't really a lot known about this relic. It's unknown how long ago it was created, where it was created or who created it, in fact, its name isn't even known. It was only by chance found by an archaeologist of a once noble family who fell on hard times after acquiring the relic from the ruins of an ancient battlefield. To try to change their family's fortune, redeem the renown they once had and fill their coffer they decided to raffle off some of the relics from their private collection.Intermediate Lore:~Get the relic to intermediate to unlock~Senior Lore:~Get the relic to Senior to unlock~Grand Lore:~Get the relic to Grand to unlock~Dive Lore:~Unlock the partial Daemon dive to unlock~
As this is an unusual relic it comes with an equally unusual ability but it comes with a bit of work to unlock. You are required to do a thread of 6,000 words where you come to not only understand the energies within the relic but unlock its hidden secret; that it is capable of a partial daemonic dive, and will allow you to have up to three small aesthetic changes while in this form. (The training must be approved like a normal partial dive) You are unable to access this dive ability before the relic reaches senior, the dive will be active for three rounds and it will be five rounds before you would be able to enter it once more, at grand it will allow you to enter the partial dive for four rounds but you will not be able to enter it again for six rounds. You are able to go to the spirit system and choose three abilities you will be able to access while in the partial daemonic dive. As with spirit dive, there are drawbacks that you will receive when the dive is on cooldown. This includes -5 m/s physical speed, -5 mana regeneration, -5 Debuff in Power, Durability, Control, Sensory and you will only be able to access intermediate or below spells.In addition to the above abilities, they will find that their spells will have a number of boons and weaknesses to them.Boons:- +25% spell speed and range to attack creation spells- are naturally able to ignore 5 points of the enemy’s abilities durability, increasing to 10 points at Grand rank.Weaknesses:- If an object or structure is magically backed then it will be lowered by a single-tier on a successful clash.- Lose 5 mana per post while in combat on top of their sustain. This effect stops once the player's mana has reached 20% of their max mana. This effect increases to 35% at Senior Rank, then 50% at Grand Rank. (This replaces your normal mana regen and cannot be negated with mana regen perks)
Name of the Ability L'togael IdnitaType & Uses: Trigger ¦ 4 usesRank & Specialization: Junior ¦ Attack CreationMana Cost: 8 Per Trigger ¦ 15 RechargeRange & Speed: 32.25m ¦ 12.5 m/sStats Affected: +2 PowerDescription:Touching one petal of the hilt alone is enough to activate this ability, the owner then needs to strike either from the left to right if they want a close strike or right to left if they want the strike to originate fifteen meters from behind the enemy in question. The strike appears as a pure aura purple orb around the size of a ping pong ball which seems to widen to two meters wide as it draws closer dealing junior rank damage and first-degree burns upon a successful direct hit. With the use of ammo rules, additional orbs can be made per trigger.
Name of the Ability Zhael DoyaType & Uses: Flow ¦ 3 Rounds Active ¦ 2 Rounds CooldownRank & Specialization: Junior ¦ Hex and CurseMana Cost: 8 ¦ 4 Range & Speed: 25m ¦ 10 m/sStats Affected: -4 speedDescription:Touching two of the petals on the hilt alone is enough to activate this ability, the owner then needs to then land a hit on the target they wish to affect. Upon a successful attack, it will leave a first-degree burn and a glowing crescent moon with a pale purple cloud appears on the infected area and begins to make the enemy in question feel almost lethargic decreasing their speed by -4 meters per second. Using the ammo rules, additional marks can be made, however, the speed debuff is decreased by one. Due to the nature of hex and curse, it will actively attempt to turn any buffs into debuffs and healing into damage as per the clashing rules.
Name of the Ability Yunza ZontType & Uses: Burst ¦ 2 Rounds Active ¦ 2 UsesRank & Specialization: Junior ¦ Attack Creation ¦ Hex and CurseMana Cost: 11 Initial Cost ¦ 12 Recharge CostRange & Speed: 25m ¦ 10 m/sStats Affected: +2 Power, -25% enduranceDescription:Touching all three of the petals on the hilt alone is enough to activate this ability, the blade itself seems to glow brighter for a few seconds before the white of the blade turns black. Striking diagonally left to the right from top to bottom will create a black and royal purple pure aura slash around three meters in length and half an inch thick in front of the owner while striking right to left from the bottom to the top will create the same strike but fifteen meters behind the enemy in question. As the strike gets closer it almost takes the shape of a net made of rope that is a centimetre and a half thick but still three meters long. It would give the illusion of a restraining spell, however, if any of the net touches a person then they will take not only a junior rank of damage and be dealt a first-degree burn but it will also leave a marking that resembles a solar eclipse with a royal purple glow around it. This marking weakens the defences of the one affected by it allowing for additional damage to be done in the following round. Using the ammo rules, additional marks can be made, however, the speed debuff is decreased by one. Due to the nature of hex and curse, it will actively attempt to turn any buffs into debuffs and healing into damage as per the clashing rules.
Venturing down the staircase and deeper into the earth, Gawain recalled some of the things he had come to know about the guy he was looking for. From what he knew of the Vermillions, honor was something seemed deeply ingrained into them, as well as a drive to capable and strong mages, but not at the expense of others. It was what made them into one of the few noble families Gawain liked by default… at least on paper. Nothing was ever truly as it seemed, that much he had come to accept as gospel. But when he heard about how this one particular member of the family had begun acting dark and shady, or at least shadier after he had seemingly acquired the dagger he now had on his person, Gawain wondered just how shady that meant when going by boy-scout measurements. He had seen dark when he had been trained to kill a man with a dull knife.
He had seen shady when he was taught by a fellow slave how sticking to the shadows and leaning into the fact that he was still just a child might allow him to get close enough to someone to thrust that same knife into their carotid artery and more or less ensure a kill on the spot. Apparently, the dark and shady stuff had come in the form of Taiyo being less careful when in fights while focusing more on taking down his targets and making sure the mission got done. Again, to Gawain, such things were about as natural as breathing, eating and taking a poop. Though he could see how someone who had ordinarily been a bit of a goody two-shoes switching to getting things done through calculated violence and cold precision could be a big change, especially to those close to them. To think that had all started with the dagger seemed hard to believe.
Taking the dagger into his hand and looking over the hilt, it seemed quite intricate and ornate, not the kind of thing someone should openly fear as it did not inspire such feelings in him whatsoever. What was odd however was the fact that when he held it, it was as though his surroundings came to life. Not in the sense that floor tiles began floating and doors started talking to him about how their day had been after a funny little face appeared on their surface, but in the sense that it felt like he could hear hushed voices around his person. Though it was a rather strange sensation, he could always rely on his Ki and his extrasensory means to tell where reality ended and illusion began, at least for the most part. His mind had been exceptionally well trained in that regard, making him into one of the youngest Ki masters in the known world. But it was clear to him that the voices he heard, vague as they were, they were not an illusion.
Once he reached the base of the stairs, there was another door, and another lock on this side of it. To say that Aronil had been an incredibly secretive and clever person was an understatement, as all those that had dealings with the vampire over the years would likely agree. The man had been secretive enough to hide the fact that he was a vampire for decades, remaining within the upper echelons of Kiten society for just as long. Even when clear evidence had been presented that the man had been a vampire that had stolen away women and children for years, the mayor and his cohorts still would not believe it. Only when the head of the beast was brought back and Aronil never came back did the nobility start to believe that maybe, just maybe, Gawain and Waylon had been right in pointing the finger at the now fallen noble.
Unbarring the door and moving into the next room, the place seemed to be lit with a bunch of torches and sconces, creating plenty of light in such an otherwise dark place. It made him wonder, if they had known that all of this was down here, if he hadn’t believed the ceiling was going to come down and bury the whole place, maybe they would have made this discovery sooner. Hell, if Taiyo was down here, maybe they would have been able to recover him sooner too. Because he had come here with one thing in mind, a sort of reality locked between his ears that claimed that with every couple of hours that passed, the chances of finding somebody alive were significantly reduced. The same thing went for this particular situation, though the chances had gone from significant to drastic, as it had been over a month at this point since Gawain had been here.
And seeing as how Taiyo would realistically have been down here before Gawain and Waylon came to kill the vampires, he would have been here for a substantially longer period of time, meaning the chances of retrieving anything other than a cold corpse would be slim to none. Still, the boy felt as though he had taken this portion onto himself when he had taken on the mission of finding and killing the vampire that roamed these parts. Even though he had no active memories of this Vermillion, the fact that he was a fellow magic knight that had in all likelihood been slain by the vampire that perished at his own hands made him want to be the one to bring the body home. After all, he was the only one who knew this place existed, along with Waylon obviously, though he was far too busy with looking after his wife now that the two had been reunited.
To put this on his shoulders at this point felt wrong, even though he himself had been through quite the harrowing ordeal on Skjaergard recently. All in all, these were the kinds of things he had been trained for, to be useful, to be a weapon, to do the things others would not want to do. So as he took the first look around the room to get a proper feel of what this place might be, the lack of detail was in and of itself quite interesting. The room above this one had clearly been used for the sake of taking things apart in the form of autopsy, as well as surgery on the living or the undead. This room however, it was empty for the most part, though a lot better preserved than all of the ones above it. It was just as clearly elven as the ones above, though mostly untainted by the vampires that dwelled within. The statues here remained mostly intact, as did the stonework along the walls, floor and ceiling.
Even to someone who knew as little about architecture as Gawain, it was clear that this room he was standing in had been some kind of main hall where people might have gathered, many hundreds of years ago. The place had been built to stand the test of time, though those that built it likely hadn’t accounted for it sinking deeper and deeper into the earth up until the very building itself was buried beneath the earth, making the attic the new entryway. It was why the mostly unassuming spaces above had been so delightfully regular, as it had never been intended to be seen by the public. But if this was the entry space, that meant that there might yet be other intact spaces around here, which might have been interesting to look into at a later point in time. For now, there was another problem altogether, one he had more or less imagined being an issue earlier.
For when he entered into this space, he had seemingly ruined the day of a bunch of its inhabitants. Rats. And not just any kind of rats, rats the size of small dogs with fangs that could not even be compared to those of rodents anymore. But there was more to them that made them odd to say the least. They seemed lethargic at first, though the moment they realized the boy was there, they flared up into a feral rage, which was not exactly rat behavior. They were opportunistic creatures by nature, taking what they could get and sneaking around in the dark while everyone was asleep to get something to eat. Whatever had been done to them, they had been turned into something else entirely, both physically and mentally. As they began rushing at him, Gawain could tell that they were no match for his magical arsenal, so he decided to go about this in an altogether different manner.
Taking out the dagger, the time had come to do some proper fighting, the kind Griswold would honestly have been proud of witnessing if he had still been around. As soon as he took the handle into his hand, Gawain allowed his mana flow to also be circulated throughout it, causing the odd purple blade to take shape. With the rats rapidly approaching in a state of absolute frenzy, the ashen haired boy dashed forward, feeling as though the very first step he took towards them was a step back to the person he had been quite some time ago. Even without the symbiotic relationship between him and his ring providing him with additional speed of movement, the boy had always been ridiculously fast on his own, far faster than these augmented rats could keep track of with their bloodshot eyes. From that point on, everything seemingly happened in a blur.
His body moved almost entirely on its own as the first of the rats leaped at him, prompting the boy to move to the side ever so slightly, causing the creature to launch itself past him. In that moment, another one of the odd cretins had already jumped in an attempt at tearing out his throat. Spinning his body after side-stepping the first of the rats so that the momentum would not go to waste, it was instead applied along with the dagger itself as the blade got buried at the base of its skull. Severing the spine as the blade of mana was pulled back out, the creature collapsed dead on the ground. Moving almost as if possessed, the fact that he heard the whispers all around him did not distract him from the fact that he was barely even aware of what was happening. Relying entirely on his training, almost all of it was pure muscle memory as a result of training.
The training he had received against his will on Skjaergard as a child, to handle a weapon that was easily obscured from sight, yet possessed every bit of lethality as a claymore or a powerful spell. When wielded by the right hands, a simple stab and twist of a knife could perhaps be even more fatal due to how easy it was to hide it inside of ones clothing. For most, the moment when their eyes caught wind of the shimmering steel, it was already covered in large volumes of their own blood as the sanguine liquid stained their clothing and pooled on the floor. Ripping his blade through the throat of a third approaching rat, the creature tried to let out a noise, though its vocal cords being cut along with the majority of its neck made it impossible to get out any death throes. Rolling along the floor as it landed, it shortly after ceased all movement.
But it was not over yet. For when the first of the creatures that had come at him had regained its composure after two of its fellow rodents died, it swiftly moved at him again. Some animals might have by now realized that they had bit off more than they could chew, and rightly so. Though this creature, if it had ever had such a thing, no longer possessed the capacity to figure such things out at all. It was rabid and in a state of utter ferocious rage. So much so that it came at Gawain with the exact same strike, a straight forward leap aimed right at his throat. Instead of actually dodging, the youth brought his blade up from below, stabbing the beast through the bottom of the jaw, causing the vorpal blade came bursting out the top of its skull. Following up on the beasts own momentum, Gawain just allowed the creature to maintain its flight as he deactivated the dagger by ceasing mana circulation.
Disappearing instantly, the boy more or less figured out a new and useful trick as to how to more accurately murder someone, should the need arise. With the creature continuing its flight, it too collapsed along the floor, thus ridding himself of his assailants in record time. A little while later, Gawain once again became fully conscious of his actions and moves, looking around to see all of the dead animals. Even now, the boy could hear the whispers of the blade as they had seemingly been getting louder since he had come down deeper into the complex. From what he remembered, they had been a lot more faint back when he picked the dagger up in the room above, though there were several potential reasons as to why that was, reasons he quickly ran through his mind so as to figure out the most likely of reasons as swiftly as humanly possible for someone with his level of intellect.
One of the more outlandish reasons behind it was that maybe the blade was getting closer to some kind of nexus of mana, or perhaps one of a far darker origin. Over the past few months, he had fought vampires, zombies, risen heroes of old, a necromantic hag and even a lich, proving that there were forces at work in the world that shifted the balance towards a reality of death and decay. And while these were some disturbingly powerful entities, there was also the demon ‘prince’ he had killed a little while back, a being that did not even originate from this world to begin with. These demons had been showing up for quite some time now, if the stories Griswold had told him were to be believed. And while he had knowingly been keeping the boy in the dark about much of it, he had been able to piece a thing or two together all on his own.
If the stories were to be believed, the demons had taken over the witches forest, meaning they were very much trying to establish a powerful foothold in the material world. So if that were to be the case, and they were planting their roots more firmly into this place, it made sense that there might be other ties to the demonic underworld that they hailed from. It made something he had more or less shrugged off as ludicrous statements about Taiyo’s personality changing after receiving the dagger a lot less frantic, and a lot more incriminating. Holding the ornate handle in front of him, he forced the blade to come out, allowing him to gaze into the vorpal blade. The dark purple mana that composed the curved edge made for a rather peculiar and ominous appearance, though that did not make it in any way ‘demonic’ or otherworldly.
The more he thought about it and the whispers he heard, the more he believed that maybe these same voices, or voice, had slowly driven Taiyo to madness. It was entirely possible that there was something inside of this weapon that brought about these whispers, as he was one hundred percent certain of the fact that he was not imagining things. For if he were, that would not explain what had happened to Taiyo after he had received the weapon. And if his own prolonged exposure to the dagger meant that Gawain was now also starting to hear the voices more clearly, that meant that he might very well go down a path similar to that of the Crimson Lion knight.
Looking around at the carnage he had wrought upon the creatures of the night that had assaulted him mere moments ago, the truth of the matter was that he could not be entirely certain as to whether his body had been moving on auto pilot, allowing muscle memory to drive him after wielding a weapon again after such a long time, or if it had been something else entirely. But that was when he smiled, chuckled even. What was he so worried about. This stupid little stabber could not possible hold the kind of power that would make him buckle under its weight, to be driven around as if he were just a meat suit for some kind of demonic force. No, all of this could easily be explained away by him reverting back to an earlier state of mind from a time he had thought he had put behind him. But as Griswold had pointed out, the horrors of one’s past rarely staid buried, coming back to haunt you when you let your guard down by just the right amount.
So it was true that the kind of training he had gone through had sharpened his senses, trained his muscles and forced his very body to remember some of the gruesome murders he had been forced to commit as a slave owned by a horrible master. Today proved how quickly those same factors could come boiling up inside of him once his once preferred weapon of choice once again landed in his oh so capable hands. And with whatever innate presence residing within the blade likely augmenting that state of mind, it absolutely meant that he would need to be very careful when handling the weapon. Because at this point in time, even someone without eyes could see that this blade harbored considerable power when wielded by someone that knew how to bring it out. Because just like how the whispers could be heard by Gawain when he wielded it, so did he manage to scope out the blade’s potential every time he allowed his own mana to flow through it and bring about the blade.
With all due respect to the likely deceased Vermillion, but Gawain was not just some flimsy little magic knight that would be overcome by the will of an inanimate tool meant solely for killing. He was Gawain, he wielded one of the most powerful magical forces in the known world. He had the body, the mind and the magical power to become one of, if not the most powerful mage in the Clover country and beyond.
He was the rising star among the Silver Eagles, a trainee under Griswold, the black knight himself. Unlike the Crimson Lion, he would never succumb to the whims of an upgraded piece of silverware cutlery. With a quick burst of mana, the room that had felt heavy a moment ago suddenly felt relieved of all of its pressure as the young mage forced his will upon it. It was something he had only learned to utilize a little while ago when delving into a dungeon, though the factor of intimidation that went with temporarily flashing overwhelming force upon one’s surroundings had an effect on more than just the rats. Gawain could feel it too. By unleashing himself with some force, even momentarily, he broke himself free of the doubts that were clinging to his mind, even forcing back the voices to mere whispers. Revitalizing himself by ridding himself of weak thoughts, a casual smirk appeared on his face.
He may have lost once on the isle of Grýnd when facing off against a truly outrageously powerful monster born out of misery and despair, but he was never going to be losing again. Turning to face the rats that remained in the room, he saw that his little outburst of a tantrum had had its effect on them too. Where a little while ago, they had been filled with sheer rage and hunger, they now froze in their tracks. Again though, this was quite peculiar, as the average rat would have made a run for it, but not these… things. Something inside of them had them fighting against the overwhelming urge to run away, an urge that was built into the very DNA of these animals. For them to stand their ground and fight through the almost paralyzing fear proved to him that something was off, something was entirely amiss. The moment the wave of intimidation wore off, the creatures rushed forward again.
Reactivating the blade, Gawain was not about to let anything get the better of him. While his body still moved as if out of his control, as if acting out of pure instinct, this was only partially true. This time around, he kept his head in the game, maintaining absolute control and feeling every twitch of his muscles, experiencing every specific move he pulled as the purple colored blade of mana tore through the first rat that came at him. This time however, he was the one that was on the offensive. Rather than merely standing his own ground and destroying whichever creature entered into his killing field, the boy now actively sought them out one by one, murdering them where they stood in the quickest and most painless way imaginable. Severing ligaments and tearing through nerve and bone, he aimed to sever their spines with every attack.
Because the rats were the size of small dogs, the fact that he required a good deal of force was plenty evident. Luckily, the blade was incredibly sharp and did not lose its edge during battle, a likely result of it being made up out of condensated mana, more so the mana belonging to an absolute and undisputed prodigy such as himself. Taking out the first two rats quite quickly, he could tell that it had taken him longer than the previous ones, likely because he was trying to balance conscious thought with unconscious movement based entirely off of muscle memory. And while the whispers of the blade were seemingly struggling to come back and be heard as loudly as before, Gawain also managed to juggle that factor by keeping it contained as nothing more than a whimper. Although difficult, it was something that became easier with each cut made.
And by the end of it, as a sixth rat met its end at the tip of his mana blade, Gawain allowed it to retract before pocketing it again. It had served its purpose, for now. With the fight over and done with, Gawain kneeled by the side of one of the rats he had killed, allowing himself to take a good look at the creatures he had been killing by the bunch down here. There was something about the feeling of cutting and carving living flesh that one would never forget, a sensation that was strangely carved into your very being when you carved into that of someone else. And due to that alone, he knew that something was very wrong here, meaning he needed to investigate before pressing onward.
These rats, upon closer inspection, were not bleeding. Their blood was coagulated and pasty, stuck inside of the veins and barely leaking out, if at all. The first thought he had was that these creatures were your regular, run of the mill undead, though there was more to these things that was triggering a memory from not too long ago. The odd fangs in their mouth, when handled carefully, could be pushed back into the skull, meaning they were retractable. To Gawain, this along with the fact that the charred bodies in the room upstairs that had been gnawed and eaten from meant that the culprits were likely here. By feasting on the flesh of the vampires, the rodents had likely been warped into the version of being that they were now. It was quite interesting to see, though it was also quite sad to see that nature was suffering for their negligence.
Again, Gawain had hoped that the bodies being burned to a crisp and the ceiling coming down would bury everything here and make sure no one would ever know about what had happened. But seeing as how the ceiling had ‘not’ come down in the way he had hoped, only opening up multiple more points of entry, it meant that once this was all over and done, Gawain would need to do a proper job of making sure this entire place was destroyed completely. No more half-assed assumptions, just straight up desolation was the only thing that might ensure no other creatures would fall prey to the dangerous and virulent pathogen that existed within the bodies of these dead bloodsuckers. Preparing to move on from here, it was at that point that his eye fell upon a seventh corpse further into the room. Had it been alive, it would have attacked him already, so that much he knew for sure.
The odd thing was that, since he had not been the one to land the killing blow, that meant that there was still something else down here that had been responsible for doing so. Wandering over to it while keeping his guard up, his Ki could not directly register any kind of movement in his direction, meaning that whatever else was down here was either really good at sitting quietly without any form of motion, or it had already left. Believing that there could not possibly be a whole lot left to this building that had not already been scoped out properly, all he could do now was hope that the area that remained would present him with the body of the Crimson Lion. Whether the Vermillion would still be alive however, that much remained to be soon, as he honestly held no hope in the matter. Still, he had been surprised before, and just might be surprised again if all went well.
At first glance, Miroh Ath appears as either an unfinished or broken sword as all you are able to see is the unusual four-inch hilt one would often associate with a rapier. The grip is a finely carved onyx with a silver inlay spiralling up it leading into silver filigree and eventually into a half lotus design. It is only when the owner of the weapon channels mana through it does it show its true potential as at the bottom of the blade two small circles and a small orb appear, and at the base of the half lotus two larger circles appear, and on the petals, a symbol appears on each that seems illegible until you finish understanding the relic, at that point, you will be able to read it and find out the name of the daemon who's energy it holds. From the torch/petal hilt is a white pure aura dagger blade which is eighteen inches long and holds a purple tint to its edges. The blade itself almost appears to be made out of flames the way it curves makes it almost look like a khopesh. In the centre of the curve, an orb can be seen, while on the outside it has four spikes that can do damage.Lore:
