The fastest a human has ever run is roughly 27.4 miles per hour, the record set by one Usain Bolt, while an enormous strain on the body continuing at this speed for several minutes is possible for dedicated athletes.
An amazing feat but nowhere near the fastest a human has ever moved; that record was set by the SR-71 Blackbird at 2200 miles per hour.
The Blackbird, however, was a state-of-the-art jet meant to test the absolute limits of modern engineering. If a human were to move at that speed they would be reduced to a fine pink mist.
The pilot of the Blackbird was moving fast enough to experience three times Earth's gravity, or 3g’s. Being well trained they withstood this force for around thirty minutes without ill effect. A dedicated pilot can handle three times that force for several seconds, an amazing accomplishment when the average person would black out around 4g’s.
On a completely unrelated note, the human eye can track movement at a maximum speed of around one hundred feet per second. Beyond that, all objects would begin to blur to the point they become unrecognizable growing fainter the faster they were.
For an object to be invisible or at least very close it would need to move at a minimum speed of one hundred feet, per millisecond. The object in question would be moving at eighty-eight times the speed of sound and experiencing roughly 182g’s.
—{}{}{}{}{}—
Fredrick.
A dozen or so booms echo behind me as I leave the ground a small cloud of dust filling the space I occupied. My magic is already working overtime to not mulch half the city. I have minutes at most before news of this spreads too far but for some of my comrades, that time is even shorter. Roof tiles crunch underfoot with every step I take. The sheer force I’m exerting could level blocks of buildings if I wasn’t careful, this delays me further.
Xavier registering under my guild would have guaranteed a semblance of safety for him and more importantly, me. How he managed to end up in the wrong district is beyond me, I could always ask him as I'm wringing out his neck but I figured he’d have trouble breathing. He’s been in the city for two weeks now under constant watch by either me or an assistant with surveillance magic. Someone failed to report a change in his movements so either they're dead or working with another guild branch.
The only way to track him is to follow his usual path and see where it deviates from normal, If someone is actively working against us it’s already too late. Wind rips past me as my magic fades leaving me above a scene of absolute carnage. Bloody chunks have been splattered across the street Xavier would have gone down normally. Likely another noble playing some idiotic game but the amount of gore is suspect, they’re normally quite clean. I don’t doubt for a second that he would steer as far as possible considering what happened in the village.
Had he gone down that road, an actor would play out a fake mugging, and the subsequent arrival of the guards bribed, of course, would direct him to my guild branch where a single signature would’ve been the end of this. All it takes is an itty bitty tweak of the Shield tattoo and it suddenly contains a tracker alongside its plethora of usual features. But no, he has to get sent to the lowest-ranked guild in the country where I bet he’s already being paraded around like a damn trophy.
I don’t have time to help in the clean up of some poor homeless bastard so I leave in a spray of pebbles and dust. It’s a shame what people with power tend to do but with how obvious their tricks have become it's anyone’s own fault for falling for it.
—{}{}{}{}{}—
Xavier.
Signatures here are weird. They still do the normal pen and paper thing but when it comes to the important shit they want a second proof of identity. In this case, it’s a small display of my mana’s unique pattern, or as I put it the moment I was asked, absolutely impossible.
“Sir, please just use your mana on the pendant and we’ll be finished. Other people are waiting behind you.”
A glance behind me shows ten or so men armed to the teeth all of whom look to be very impatient. Can’t stall any longer Huh, I whisper a quick ‘please don’t kill me’ and grab the small blue gem from the receptionist's hand. Her name by the way is Mary as she so politely told me after realizing I couldn’t read the name tag on her shoulder. Luckily the pendant doesn’t kill me instantly though I wish it had as the light blue of the gem quickly fades into a deep black before cracking.
As my hand leaves a small pile of powder falls to the desk.
The line of people behind me and most of the bar goes silent as we all just stare at the now dull powder. Most people seem to be in shock but Mary’s expression would be best described as unbridled rage.
“You absolute IDIOT! Do you know how hard it is to replace these? Two hundred forms, in triplicate no less! And it’ll be months before we even get a response let alone a new pendant!
How dare you!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think it would do that!”
“Ahhhhhh!”
With that last scream of fury, she rushes into a back room where a muffled shouting match begins. Followed by the remains of the pendant flying through the closed wooden door and embedding itself in a supporting pillar not too far from a patron's head. The shouting match stops rather abruptly forcing me away from the deathly pale man who almost won a free haircut.
Mary calmly pushed open the door followed by an elderly man with a mop of unkempt white hair, he seemed to age a few more years as he noticed the hole in the door and the pillar. A literal growling from Mary gets everyone’s attention and once again things are silent save for the one very lucky gentleman’s whimpering.
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“This is our current branch head Mr Leadsworth. He is now going to take over your processing before I leap over the counter and kill you.”
Venom laced in every word she gestures to the man who in turn beckons me to follow him into the back offices. After passing by an open door leading to the kitchen we find ourselves in a small waiting room accompanied by two modest sofas and a low coffee table. He sits waving for me to do the same.
“So Mr?”
“Just Xavier is fine.”
“Xavier then, you wish to join the Black Shields under the guild but before you are properly inducted we must establish your base abilities.
While I’m sure Mary had no trouble scaring you from the decision I doubt she explained some of the more esoteric requirements?”
“She explained very little besides the position being highly dangerous though she didn’t tell me why exactly.”
Leadsworth frowned and leaned forward. The brief silence gave me a chance to really observe the man. He looked to be in his sixties with white hair and a clean shaved face, he wore suit pants and a plain white button-up. The clothes while not excessively fancy were a significant step above what I’d seen on most people around town. He also had a frightening number of scars from what little skin showed his hands an odd mix of farmers tan and the pale flesh of an old cut.
He looked at me and after a few more seconds broke the silence.
“You have no clue about the Shields do you?”
“Not really, no, I know a White Shield, knew.”
“Ah, well then you know the basic dangers to expect. That being monsters, dangerous wildlife, and bandits as well as any unexpected events.
However, you should know that members of the Black Shields can be expected to face far worse foes. Tell me do you know about the Prealus?”
“The what?”
“Much like how bandits have their more dangerous counterparts the Nomads, so to do the monster we face have a nightmarish greater.
The Prealus are in a sense, the monster equivalent of a Shield member, monsters themselves being unnatural deviations of normal animals I assume you see the issue.”
“The stronger thing of something already stronger than most people?”
“Precisely and as a Black Shield it’s quite common to be called to deal with such threats if there are no agents of the crown nearby.
So the question of the hour is, can you fight what a normal person couldn’t dream of facing?”
I didn’t need some deep inner journey to know that answer nor did I need more than a second to reply.
“Fuck no. I have some training but it’s mostly against people.”
Reaching into a pocket he pulled out a very familiar pendant almost identical to the one I destroyed not ten minutes ago save for this one being a deep red. Aware of my hesitation he quickly pulled it to the side just out of reach for me.
“I understand your hesitation but this gem is not only much higher quality but capable of identifying small defects or other irregularities regarding your mana.”
I nodded and again I was offered a pendant, Slowly my fingers reached out until just barely caressing the edge of the gem. Seeing as it didn’t disintegrate like its other I moved to encompass it entirely the material ice cold as it sat in my palm.
We sat in silence as the gem began to change in hue, its bright red turning a deep crimson then slowly to black. The absolute void of color seemed to deepen the longer I held it and with it so did Leadsworth’s scowl. By the time it stopped growing darker a noticeable film seemed to coat the air around it as if it was bending the space, almost like a black hole.
“I suppose that explains some things.
Hmm, place it on the table for a moment.”
I did so.
The moment the gem left my hands a soft pop could be heard and instantly the red had returned as though nothing happened.
“Well, I suppose that would qualify with the bare minimum to be a Black Shield though I’m unsure of how you’d use this in combat. Ah, what does it matter congratulations Xavier you are now a proud member of the Shields. Wear the badge with honor and know that you protect not just humanity but at times the world.
When you head back out tell Mary that you’ve passed with flying colors.”
We stood, he shook my hand and I was out the door. A few minutes later I was rubbing my shoulder as magic ink was applied unreasonably fast. The deep black emblem was a permanent reminder of what I’d joined.
—{}{}{}{}{}—
Fredrick.
From the corner of my sight, I spotted Xavier leaving the guild and I sighed in relief. With him unmolested I could finish the next step relatively easily.
My first blurred even to my own mana-enhanced sight and a dull thud sounded despite me having broken the sound barrier. Mana coated my fist attempting to soften the blow but it was far too little far too late.
The metal plate that stood in the way was dented, heated, and punctured in less than a second. My hand came away with a small burn but my opponent fell back as metal slag burned a hole into their chest.
Four bodies lie in a semicircle around me all with similar injuries, These men posed no threat to me but for Xavier, even a scratch would prove fatal. Poison magic is unique and impossible to train without a master-level tutor, so either several men had lucked into very rare magic and decided to fuck with the first person they found. Or, these were a certain noble’s men, and judging by the scene earlier he was now going to be in a very playful mood.
So far the only upside to this headache was the complete ignorance of any other Black Shields. Hazing is the pretty term we give to the public; it paints an image of camaraderie and a harsh but safe working environment. It is more accurately described as eugenics, the strong weed out those they believe will weaken the rest. Usually, this can be achieved with a beating the moment they leave the guild hall but more often than not it’s a sudden test of one’s abilities.
Xavier is a nonentity; he's dark to mana sight and as an outsider has no lasting footprints to be followed. In a perfect world, he’d only be a few steps away from a quiet rise amongst the ranks. A noble has his scent and judging by the rarity of poison magics one of the council’s members. Interfering more than I have won’t be possible from here on he must rely on his luck.
May the twin hells have mercy.