Even when it came to forging, Infinity helped. Weland heated the steel with an everburning, magical fire. Infinity allowed him to keep his stamina perpetually being restored and topped off by Healing magic. He wasn’t tiring, even as he worked the hammer for hours on end. It did not, however, help with the boredom. Which wasn’t completely fair. The work required attention to detail and creative thought. Magic was as much art as science, and timing was important in this craft.
His first sword exploded. And his second. He didn’t have the materials that he’d have liked. But it was easier too. He could weave Infinity into the weapons. There was no need for lacrima or power sources, even in weapons designed to be wielded by others. His Sage Dragon Slayer Magic could fortify the material, and weave into it a means of fortifying and channeling the magic of others.
His third try though he had learned how much magic he could imbue into a steel sword. When he had properly affixed the tang into the hilt and held the blade against the sharpening wheel, he held it up. It was the first sword he had made on this world. The materials were basic which limited the enchantment, but it was still a good sword. He could feel that, but he would need to test it. He walked out the smithy he had been given access to. His hand rose, cutting the air with the sword, and the wave of light from the blade cut a tree’s branch, scaring the crow sitting on it. His sense for magic had told him that the crow was not exactly natural.
Merlin had been attempting to observe him in his smithy. He’d shielded it against anything like scrying, but that hadn’t stopped her from attempting it. It’d seem that his and Selene’s answers on where they had come from, who they were, and how they’d come upon the prophecy. He wondered if she’d gone to the moon to see if there really was a moon kingdom, or the portal to such a dimension.
Weland couldn’t blame her for being suspicious. He and Selene were suspicious. A powerful mage and a dragon whose magical power was absolutely absurd, talking about preparing the Holy Knights for a new Holy War. They had come from nowhere, and wielded powers that demanded caution. He’d be suspicious himself. But with the sword in his hand he was about to prove his value.
But first he needed to test the sword. He wandered into the hills outside of Camelot, and raising the sword he lashed forward, letting three waves of light rush out from the sword. The ground erupted in front of him, light shooting out to tear apart the surface of the ground. He raised the sword, and the shining energy waves rose and twisted. He was directing them, making them move and dance to his will. He didn’t know if Demon Slayer Magic would be effective against this world’s demons. There were some definite questions due to how he had learned it as opposed to purchasing it. But hopefully his Shine Demon Slayer Magic would still prove an effective weapon in the hands of whoever ended up holding it.
He directed the light back at him, body turning to the side as the energy blades rushed past him to dig into the ground on either side of him. And then he channeled a small amount of Darkness Dragon Slayer Magic through the sword, relieved to see that the small sliver he put in was made a dozen times as strong. He didn’t dare try to channel his full power, but it would amplify magic he channeled through it.
If he could make a few dozen of these would that be enough to uplift the Holy Knights? Would it even count at all?
As Weland went to deliver his newly forged sword to the king, he passed by Selene at the training grounds. She had assumed her human form, not merely the shape she could take as a dragon, but the new truly human form she had been given in this world. Her perspective on things was different since coming to this world. She had a feeling for true weakness she had lacked before, and a greater determination to get stronger.
She’d rejected his enchantments being used to make her stronger. It’d limit her ability to improve on her own if she relied on his spells to boost her strength. She was right there. He had magic which should be able to uplift someone’s power substantially. His Enchantment magic could increase strength or speed or even magical power. But he had no idea how far he could increase it.
Selene was not up to the level of a holy knight as a warrior. Oh, in raw physical strength she was extremely strong, not as strong as he was, at least not in human shape, but still stronger than the strongest of Arthur’s knights. But her weapon skill meant she fell far behind the better fighters among them. She didn’t know how to fight as well. But she was determined to get better.
He made himself watch for a few moments. He’d learned what she’d picked up from the Jump document for this world. She was as immortal as Ban now. She could fight and survive with raw power. But if she was going to make sure he survived as well she needed to know how to fight for real. And that meant fighting in her weakest form, against people who weren’t holding back, and knew full well how immortal she was.
The fight down below made him wince. Despite everything he knew, he barely managed to hold himself back from acting as he saw a sword plunge through Selene’s chest lifting her from her feet. Or wanting to rip apart the knight who callously tossed her from his sword with a swing of it.
Selene rose to her feet from where her limp body had been tossed, and lifted up her sword once more. They were preparing for another round, when Weland turned his head away and continued to the castle. He only paused to throw a rock at a crow being used as a spy by Merlin.
Which could be the reason Merlin had a scowl on her face when he entered the throne room. Arthur was talking to merchants, dealing with some dispute or trade negotiation. The young king was very active in taking care of the affairs of the country, from the heights of statecraft to military matters to even the lives of the small folk such as farmers and even merchants.
Weland found himself waiting till the king could make room for him. Weland lifted up the sword - still in its scabbard - and, laying it across his hands, knelt, and presented the weapon to the king. “I call it Chrysaor.”
The coppery taste of blood filled Selene’s mouth. It was her own. She’d taken a rather nasty blow from the morningstar that Galerides wielded. He was the knight who had attempted to attack Weland on their arrival. In raw strength he was the closest to her of those who served Arthur at Camelot. And she hated to admit that he knew how to use it with the way he made that morningstar dance.
“My point,” He grinned. It was a blow that’d have been potentially fatal if she didn’t heal how she did. And it was the most she could do not to turn her magic on him. It’d be so easy to destroy him. Even without turning into her dragon-self, even as truly just a human her moon dragon magic was still enough to deal with him with ease. But she would learn nothing from fighting him with it.
She wasn’t learning much from fighting him without it either. Her sword rose to block his next blow. But that wasn’t the same as learning nothing. She was on the defensive, seeking for a means to disarm him. She was immortal, and he knew it, so Galerides would hold nothing back. But he was very much mortal, and she knew it, so Selene had to defeat him without causing serious harm. It made things significantly harder.
But not so hard as to be impossible. Even as one of his blows sent up a torrent of dirt she managed to slip past his spinning weapon and place her sword to his throat. “My point.” She did her best not to sound disdainful or contemptuous. She’d asked him to help her train. But he’d also cracked her head open twice, broken her ribs, and made her arm stick out of the flesh. Training hurt, and it hurt badly.
“Still five to three,” He said. “Why don’t we take a break, and get to know each other better.” His eyes didn’t hide how he’d like to get to know her. “I mean you could use someone with real strength. Not just someone who relies on little t-”
His hand had touched Selene’s hip, gripping her body. And hers had opened a ball of cream-colored energy bursting into his chest to send him flying through a tree. “You’re right, I only have use for someone with real strength. And,” She paused. She’d been prepared to verbally destroy him. He’d dared to touch her, and he emphatically lacked that right. But… He might be a useful tool to challenge Weland to become stronger, or to create a distortion.
She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. No. He wasn’t. He had no magic power. He merely possessed strength. And she didn’t believe for a moment that brute strength was enough to challenge Weland. And he could be several times stronger and he’d not match Weland in mere brute force. Even in his fairy form, Weland could overpower the brute.
“And? That’s me,” He said with an unbeaten smile, splinters of the tree in his hair, and his mail still smoking. “Look baby, I know that guy has some neat little playthings but he’s ignoring you to go play with his forge. You deserve someone who will give you a good tim-”
Butterflies of energy burst from the ground around him, spinning about him and strafing him with explosive assault. “You’re an idiot,” Selene said, no attempt to hide her contempt and disdain now. “I thought my last no was clear enough. You know nothing about what you speak and if you say another word on the subject I… WILL… END… You.” As she spoke the butterflies of energy began to fly around him faster and faster, hitting and exploding against his body. He fell to the ground, only to rise in silence a minute later, and skulk away.
Selene was still irritated when she walked into the hovel she was sharing with Weland. Even Camelot’s most impressive structures lacked the flare and fineness she was used to. It was cramped, and dirty, and there were no servants. It wasn’t up to the quality of life she preferred to keep.
Weland’s head rose when she walked in. She saw the way he winced when he looked at her. It made her more irritated.
“The bath is hot,” He said only to flinch a bit at the glance of annoyance she gave him. “I know you enjoy a bath after training, and since I wasn’t busy in the forge, I figured I’d have one ready for you when you got back.”
She was taken aback a bit. He’d been busying himself in the forge far too much for her tastes of late. “Thank you,” She said.
“I mean it wasn’t just for you.” He grinned at her, and then flinched again when her expression must have soured - or he used his new fairy powers to read the annoyance in her heart. “Well I mean… I hoped we could spend the evening together. And I didn’t want getting the bathwater hot to eat at that time.”
She softened a bit as she looked at her idiot. “And what did you want to do this evening?”
Weland started to say something and cut himself off. “Spend it with you. I finished the first successful sword. It’s proof of concept, and I know I’ll need a lot more to ‘uplift the holy knights’ and get the points but…”
She poked his forehead even as she leaned in for a kiss, light sparking from it. It was her new magic from this world, one which allowed her to invade the mind. The hypocrisy that she’d be pissed at him reading her mind, but was doing it to him right now wasn’t lost on her, nor did it deter her.
He’d finished his first sword for the king, and then been waiting for her to finish training. Because he’d been feeling guilty about neglecting her. She couldn’t help but smirk at the feelings he had when he saw her. He really didn’t like the idea of her being caused pain. But he loved her.
She felt him hold her tight as they kissed, and she couldn’t help but smile when she broke the kiss with her idiot. “Let’s take a bath,” Selene said. She had allowed Galerides to get under her skin. Weland would choose her in a heartbeat over the forge. “The tub might be small, but it’ll be intimate. And sorry for invading your mind, I just…”
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“Wanted me to cut to the chase instead of being anxious about your response?”
“No. I let an idiot get under my skin and was being stupid.” She squeezed his hand.
“Weland, leave the bird alone,” Selene said, as she watched the sunset from the mountain peak. Weland had sent Enif and Altair flying out seeking the most scenic views in Britannia. He’d prepared a supper of cold cuts, cheese, bread, and wine, and it was just a chance to be with his wife somewhere wonderful and beautiful.
“I don’t like her spying on us,” he grouched, but he didn’t throw yet another stone at the bird.
“Let her watch, it’s not like we have anything to hide,” Selene said.
“Still don’t like her spying on us.”
“Let it go, and focus on me instead.” Her tone and the roll of her eyes got Weland to heed her words. This was about showing her he cared, if Merlin’s stalker tendency wasn’t bothering her, he could stop it from bothering him.
It was a pleasant meal, a warm enough evening, and a lovely sunset, watched from a towering pillar that rose above the clouds. And Weland was ready to just enjoy Selene’s presence when she pressed against him to watch it. She was cuddlier since she’d accepted that human past; he was a bit afraid to press her for why, and she hadn’t broached it herself. He worried about what sort of trauma in her past could have caused it, but she didn’t seem too hurt, or more scared of things than she had been before. Less if anything; Selene had never engaged in brutal training previously.
“You know, there was something about Frankenstein we should work on,” She said with a smile.
Weland’s heart skipped a beat and then he kissed her. A few moments of friendly grappling later. “That bird is still watching.”
“If she wants to watch this, she can. But no matter how envious she gets you’re still mine.”
The bird soon left.
“The moon is beautiful tonight,” Weland said, a smile on his face, and worries for now something forgotten.
“No talking,” Selene muttered snuggling in closer.
He was happy enough to be quiet and let her drift off to sleep in his arms. There was nothing at the moment which would make him happier.
The roar that shook the sky said that wasn’t going to happen. The color of the beast was hard to determine in the moonlight, but it was a great, winged biped. Like a theropod dinosaur but many times even the size of the tyrant lizard king. It had the distinctive shape, though, with the stubby forelimbs, the massive, bone crushing jaws, and the great counterbalancing tail. It was fatter and thicker, though, and it possessed a pair of wings that looked tiny on its great bulk, but given it was flying towards them were evidently quite functional.
It was breathing in, light blossoming in its mouth, before it breathed out a torrent of flame to burn Weland and his wife and everything nearby.
Weland’s mouth opened wide and he inhaled the flames flowing into his mouth, even as Selene raised her hand and formed a bow of magic power before launching a spike of it into the dragon’s head.
A moment later she growled. “It’s nothing but a feral beast. Is this what dragons of this world are?”
As it landed, tail smashing down towards them, Weland clapped his hand and time slowed to a crawl. Moving Selene from the field of slow magic was easy and quick enough. And the dragon could remain within until he decided what to do with it. Given its speed and the slowed time it’d be months before it had left the field.
The next morning saw people getting up bright and early. A great white stag had been seen of late around Camelot, and a royal hunt had been called. Weland found himself on a horse accompanying the king. A dozen holy knights, Selene, and Merlin rode with him, and there was an assortment of others riding out. It was meant to be a day of gaiety and frivolity, though the hunt itself was not without its aspect of training in both the riding of steeds and the art of the bow and spear.
The great white stag proved to be elusive, and by the time noon had risen the hunting party had largely splintered. Merlin and Selene had stuck close to the king, while Weland had found himself with Bedivere, and a few other Holy Knights, who ran into the cave of a bear. It was a large creature, at least the size of a polar bear and with claws that tore through one knight’s armor and shattered rocks with ease. Weland wrapped himself in an armor of warped space which resisted its blows so that they hurt him less than an unkind word, and a sphere of the same created an explosive force which brought low the bear with a single blast. To the knights of Camelot this was a feat and one that left them in awe. To Weland it was very little.
Still of the three groups that had splintered off there was hope that they would be the ones who returned with the most impressive catch. Not that Weland was joining in their jubilation too much. His magics allowed him to maintain a telepathic link with Selene which told him that Arthur had spotted the stag and was in fast pursuit.
It also told him that something had gone wrong before the roaring crash of the attack. Selene hadn’t seen what it was, except for a terrifying blur, but it had brought her down. When she’d healed enough to raise her head, Arthur was already on the ground and the blur was attacking Merlin.
Weland was there in an instant his magic warping space around him to bring him to the site of the attack. Arthur was bleeding onto the ground, and the air was screaming with sonic booms. One of the magics he had mastered in the prior world, his Archive magic, allowed him to ‘overclock’ his brain by running it through the magical super computer, but on a peaceful day he hadn’t been doing due to the dissociative effects - and how it made everything feel like it was being played in annoying slow motion - and even if it had been active he doubted he could really have followed what was happening.
Merlin was off her horse, the short haired sorceress floating and teleporting - more the latter than the former - forced to avoid attacks too rapidly to perform a more effective maneuver.
Weland hadn’t figured out the situation when an attack hit him. His Territory Armor held, but the blow knocked him flying from his feet and the sonic boom deafened him. Dirt sprayed up where the assailant landed, and two more sprays bloomed as it launched itself again. The hit knocked him off his feet just as he was getting onto them, and before he could fully right himself he was being struck again.
And then he was hit from another direction before he’d landed from the first blow. He was being juggled in the air like he was on the losing end of a fighting game combo. His Territory Armor was holding, but the blows were hard and they were coming fast.
He couldn’t make the hand sign for his time slowing magic, but even without it if he put enough magical energy into it it could be done, and with the way it was hitting him he had to do it.
As the world slowed down around him he finally got a good look at the creature attacking him. It was an albino rabbit, red eyes and white fur. Its ears were long, reaching back over its entire body, its teeth were vicious fangs, and its four feet each ended in multi-inch long claws.
And there were about half a dozen of them. And despite the world having slow to where the blood spurting from Merlin’s throat seemed to be absolutely frozen, the rabbits launching themselves at him were still moving faster than a man would charge.
He teleported, barely dodging an attack, only to see the rabbit split in two, jumping in two different directions when it landed. Where there had been one rabbit there were now two.
The rabbits were pouncing towards Weland. There were more than half a dozen, and they all looked identical. If he had to guess the killer rabbit had some power to xerox itself.
He was too slow to teleport away as one of the supersonic rabbits hit him in the back. He warped space, a ball of darkness forming and exploding, but the rabbit was moving fast, and his aim was sloppy as he was forced to rapidly teleport. Where there had been 8 rabbits there were now 9, the white bunny replicating itself again. He didn’t want to blast Arthur, Selene, or Merlin, and their wounds were a problem.
“Monty Frickin’ Python shit,” he complained as he spread his Territory magic to create warped space around Arthur and Merlin to shield them against the sonic booms. He wasn’t certain how long it’d hold up, his Territory Armor was a firmer shield and it was being chipped away.
He summoned a silver key into his hand. He wasn’t fast enough to deal with half a dozen of these rabbits, but he wasn’t without options to remedy that. It was a twist of summoning magic, invoking the power of his summon as magical garments. In this case it was the bronze pegasus Enif, whose speed he hoped would be sufficient to match that of the rabbits. It wrapped around him as bronze armor, gauntlets covering his hands, breastplate his chest, wings like those of a hussar stretching from his back. And the speed was something amazing.
In his slowed time field the rabbits had no chance. Normally he’d never have been able to fully invoke both, especially while maintaining his territory armor, but with Infinity stretching their durations to eternity, he only needed to use the power to invoke them for an instant. The prime rabbit split again as he went to town, and a second time the first time he struck it. But it wasn’t getting away. He pushed onward, landing blow after blow, until suddenly it exploded in a burst of speed.
Weland realized what his mistake was a moment later. He’d pushed the rabbit outside of the field of temporal magic, and it’d resumed its full speed. His territory magic flared as he teleported the sword Chrysaor from Arthur’s body to his hand. He wasn’t skilled in unarmed combat. He was a swordsman.
A lash of light from the blade caught the rabbit and cut it in two. It screamed. It wasn’t a monster’s scream. It was the scream of a rabbit as a cat tore into it still alive. It was a natural, animalistic scream. And that was worse. It was a poor, animal in pain, and Weland felt his stomach twist with unwarranted guilt. Until he noticed that the scream was pulling in the replicant rabbits, or the bodies of those he’d broken. They were merging together, flesh joining back with flesh, taking the form of a terrible, eight-legged rabbit the size of a large boar. Its teeth jutted out in great, dagger-like fangs, and its eight feet each ended in terrible claws.
The shockwave of its attack leveled the clearing around him, and Weland found his territory armor shorn through, one of the bronze bracers of his summoned ‘star dress’ deformed by the attack. His right arm was in agony, a bone broken beneath it. And the rabbit was turning and roaring at him like some monstrous beast.
Weland wanted to give a witty one-liner, but there wasn’t time. He cut with Chrysaor knowing the rabbit would dodge the blades of light, but even as he did he created several explosive spheres of warped space. They bombarded the rabbit from all sides, one catching in the side of its cheek and blowing it apart. The rabbit landed, new, twisted limbs starting to sprout from its wounds, a half-dozen miniature arms forming from its cheek, eyes opening along them to replace the eye he’d blasted out.
“One, two, five,” Weland thought he said. His ears were ringing and he was fairly certain he was deaf. And fairly certain that he wasn’t speaking comprehensibly even if you could hear at the speed his body was moving. But his Nihility Explosion blossomed inside of it, and the rabbit burst into pieces.
What the hell was that Monty Python bullshit?
Arthur was alright. Concussed, but nothing that Healing Magic couldn’t cure. Merlin’s throat had been cut, but Weland’s Slow Magic had kept her from bleeding out till he could heal her properly. Selene was… immortal. She’d not resisted his slow magic, so that it could affect the rabbit, and wouldn’t risk Arthur and Merlin, but she was fine.
And then there was the rabbit. Merlin looked at him, and pointed at its carcass. He’d blown its head off of its body. “I will be taking this beast back to my lab to study,” She said in a somewhat imperious tone. “There’s a lot that does not sit right with me about it, and Arthur, I would like you to have your holy knights investigate the region to see if there’s any sign of what made a mutilator rabbit into that thing.”
“Wait,” Weland said, raising a hand. “It’s my kill so it’s my prize. And I do want something from it.”
“What?” Merlin said, turning to face him directly, arms crossing in a way that brought attention to her torso. The mage’s outfit was oddly modern for the world of Britannia; and rather close to indecent for any world. Hot pants, boots, and a jacket which barely covered her nipples and didn’t close across her chest. It was… Anime.
“I want you to extract iron from its blood. Extract materials from it so that I can use them in the forging of a weapon,” He said. “It was a powerful magical beast and I think I can make something powerful from it.” It was a spawn of chaos, his bounty board confirmed that. This was something that had only existed because he’d accepted a challenge. It hadn’t pushed him to his limits, but it had apparently qualified as a ‘difficult battle’ as he had finally completed another bounty which gave him the power to use his Fairy Tail magic without need for the hand signs and motions, because he’d been too rushed in the fight to use them until he was relying on Territory alone which he’d long since stopped using them for.
Merlin nodded. “That should be doable. I’ll get you something you can use and in exchange the rest of it will be mine.”
“I also want enough of its hide to use as a cloak, or at least a cape.”
“Fine,” Merlin said.
Bedivere’s black metal hand clasped his shoulder once she was gone. “Your slaying of the Beast of Caerbannog and saving the king shall be remembered in song.”
“What did you call it?”
“The Beast of Caerbannog. That’s the name of the hill, because it looks sort of like a castle.”
“What the hell is this Monty Python bullshit!?” Weland screamed.
“Monty Python?” Bedivere asked.
“A… troupe of comedy actors from the Lunar Realm,” Weland fibbed a bit. “Their most famous show was about a group of holy knights seeking for the holy grail.”
“And where does bovine crap come into it?”
“Well, you can tell who the king is because he doesn’t have any dung on him, but…”