Kamen Rider Kuuga: Beyond the Blue Skies (Frieren crossover)

[Stranger D Quester]

Hi everybody, first time posting on QQ and I have no idea how to make a thread look as good as everyone else's, and I haven't figured out how threadmarking works so pardon the lackluster formatting and stuff.

This is a crosspost of a fic with the same name from FF and AO3, which I'll link to later in editing.

After years of lurking I understand that I might get more engagement on SB, SV, and QQ so here I am. I only have an account here because people seem to be more chill on QQ, and I like the vibes more.

The NSFW section existing helps too but this fic isn't that kind of story so I'm putting it here.

Anyways, here's my first fic for this site, hope you'll enjoy it!

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Nagano Prefecture: Kurogatake, 05:50 AM

"You finally did it… you've become the one to achieve ultimate power."

Godai Yuusuke never wanted this. All this fighting, all this violence, all this… killing.

Yet, because he was Kuuga, he's the only one who can stop all of this. He's the only one who can stop him.

And the only way to do so was to get on his level… unleashing an Ultimate Form deep within Kuuga; a form that risks him becoming a being of ultimate darkness and violence.

Standing before him in this snowy white field was a young man with a similarly white attire, smiling in spite of the snowstorm hitting the area.

However, this youth before him was no man.

Unlike how each drop of the snow was hitting and melting from Godai's transformed body, the so-called man was untouched and unblemished by the storm. In fact, he was the one who caused the weather to be this way.

Endless weeks of rain and gloom… endless amount of burned and broken bodies of countless innocents, it was all him.

The fault of Unidentified Lifeform Number Zero.

Godai has been fighting these ULFs ever since he put the belt on when the spider ULF crashed into the police station, and he kept getting visions from the belt that caused him to slap it onto his waist.

He had grown weary since then, and Godai hopes that once he defeats Number Zero, he can finally come back to adventuring around the world.

… If he defeats him. If there's coming back from what he's become.

No, Godai couldn't afford any distractions. The final enemy is standing before him, and he must–

"I believe the Linto called me… Unidentified Lifeform Number Zero. I'm not sure I liked that."

Godai stood at the ready as Number Zero began speaking, narrowing his eyes underneath his Mask as he paced around the ground, "As I understand it, your… lawmen gave my people similar names with different numbers. Here I thought one of you would've been smart enough to figure out our language, but it seems that's too much of a task. Even for her."

'Number Zero knew about Sakurako-san.' Was Godai's first thought. How long has he been watching in the sidelines to know about her and what she does?

"But I don't blame you, my people rarely keep written records beyond our scores. Whatever history we had, how we came to be… then again, they no longer matter. Allow me to introduce myself, just as I'm sure my… lessers have done before."

He stood still, facing Godai with the same unnerving smile he's been doing ever since they clashed. Then, his entire body was engulfed in a haze of darkness. The shadows moved like flames yet it did not burn him as his body metamorphosed into a more monstrous form.

His clothing seemed to melt into his skin as it turned a snowy, ivory color. Muscles stretched and spread as his body enlarged with mass, his hair grew long as his head deformed into something beetle-like with golden horns sprouting from his forehead–his enhanced sights allowed him to see a symbol in the middle of the horns, eerily similar to Kuuga's Mask–and a pair of earrings on him despite the lack of ears. Ornamental armor pieces with a similarly golden color formed on his shoulders, chest, metallic skirt, and ankles, yet they barely protected his naked body. He noticed that Number Zero has a metal cape behind him, consisting of multiple metallic attachments segmented into one piece.

Godai had only seen glimpses of Number Zero's form at first, only when he faced him days after he acquired the blackened version of his Gold Powered Red form did he see Number Zero in his full hideous glory.

And the belt that's been a part of him for almost a year wasn't as tough as he thought as Number Zero threw a single punch that cracked it.

He recalled inspecting this black spiky form after he showed Ichijo-san his Henshin for the last time, somewhere around a small lake he passed by that hasn't been frozen yet. Godai had to admit that there was something regal about this black armored form with golden veined lines around his own body. The horns on his Masked head had sprouted an extra smaller pair right above his head, his red eyes contrasting his overall appearance. The belt itself retained the familiar golden circle surrounding the core, but the Linto hieroglyphics that were engraved horizontally aren't there. He recalled how the golden circle had hieroglyphs written around it whenever he used the Golden Power, and what's written on him now had different letters on it.

He wished he'd asked Sakurako-san what these words meant, maybe written them down so she could translate them, but Godai was content on never finding out anytime soon, especially for what's written in his current form.

Despite how it looked, Godai knew that this form he's using was dangerous. Visions from the belt had shown him how powerful this form could be, and what abilities it gave him. He just knew that he has the skills of all four previous forms of Kuuga; enhanced combat prowess, enhanced speed and reflexes, enhanced senses, and enhanced durability, yet with none of their drawbacks.

Godai had gotten curious somewhere during his trek to face Number Zero, and picked up a fallen stick. With just a thought, it morphed into the three weapons he's been using in his different forms, shifting between them within seconds; they shared the same shape and golden blades, but the colors were as black as his current form, including the gems embedded in them.

There was a thought to use these weapons against Number Zero, but Godai decided against it; he wanted to finish this as fast as he could, escalating further would endanger everything and himself. And who's to say Number Zero won't match him by morphing a stick into a weapon as well?

No, his fists will have to do.

Looking at Number Zero's monstrous form, Godai felt that he was looking at a twisted reflection, opposite in color but similar in abilities.

Spreading his arms, Number Zero introduced himself, "Behold. You look upon the Chieftain of the Grongi, for I am N-Daguva-Zeba."

Godai recognized the middle part of the name; it was the same one Ichijo heard when he shot the rose tattooed woman–who was a Grongi–and the same name he remembered hearing uttered by the bat ULF before he was killed.

When Ichijo told Godai about the name, he had wondered what it meant, and now he finally got his answer; it was Number Zero's true name.

Then, a realization struck Godai; each Grongi he defeated did something similar in their odd language; the earlier ones said it in 1-2-1 syllables, while the stronger ones had 1-3-1 syllabic patterns instead. While Daguva himself used a 1-3-2 pattern.

He understood now that each of them have been introducing themselves as if they're samurais from the olden days.

They all have names… They had names.

"What's wrong, Kuuga?" Number Zero, Daguva, cocking his head aside with an unsettling giggle, "Did you not realize that they've been giving you their names all this time? For shame, we're not just random numbers, we're people too you know. I bet you don't even remember their names. How rude of you."

The storm howled as Godai processed what Daguva just said. He wondered why he was telling all of this to him, before realizing what it was; the Grongi Chieftain was riling him up.

Guilting him into a rash decision, tricking him into spiraling further into a path of darkness.

These Grongi… Godai knew how easy it would be, dehumanizing them due to their appearances and actions, but deep down he wished there was a way to stop any one of them without violence, even if it would be considered a fool's errand.

Yet, in hindsight, Godai understood that even if they used to be individual people with hopes and dreams, what they've become, what they've done, has erased any traces of humanity in them.

No. As much as he wished otherwise, as much as he wished bad people could be convinced into repenting and atoning for their deeds… Some people need killing.

He has no right as judge, jury, or even executioner… but for the Grongi, it's up to him as Kuuga to deal with them.

Daguva shrugged, chuckling to himself, "Oh well. Not like they mattered at all. If they're slain by you, then they're not worth remembering. I've taken out about… more than a hundred, as I'm sure you remembered. You should be grateful, your battle would've taken much longer if I didn't kill those weaklings. And I doubt you'll get stronger by slaying any one of them."

Godai knew what he was talking about, there were news of dead bodies being discovered in remote locations, all wearing strange garments and small tattoos based on flora or fauna, before the forensics team confirmed that they were Grongi.

"As fun as it could've been to see you fight them all," Daguva continued, "Waiting for them to get strong enough to face you was boring. And even if they do, you yourself would be much too strong for any of them; the fights would be over too quickly."

Godai refused to respond to Daguva's disregard of his own clan, for lack of a better word. He stood still in the cold, clenching his hands into fists.

In an instant, Godai felt heat coming from his palms. And simultaneously, he felt the earth move from his soles, the snow around his feet crystalied into ice or melted into water, and the winds calmed around him. The familiar electrical sensation conjured around his body, making itself visible via golden lightning blinking across his armored body.

'... What was that? It's as if I feel like I could control the elements, maybe even lightning.' Godai thought, instinctively looking at his hands.

A chuckle interrupted his thoughts as Daguva stepped in, "It seems you figured out how to bend nature to your will, and all five of them in an instant. It took me a while to do the same, but I'm surprised you discovered that power just now. I must admit how delighted I am for you, I myself enjoy controlling fire more."

As if Godai could forget that particular ability of his. So many people immolated into charred corpses… so many lives snuffed out, potential futures extinguished.

He himself was burned, the sensation of fire combusting within him informed Godai how the victims charred so easily; Daguva burned them from the inside out at the same time they're burned from without. If it weren't for Kuuga's powers healing him, he would've died then and there.

"I have so much more to say…" Daguva admitted, before cracking his neck joints, "But I believe… Anything else no longer matters. We're both ready. Shall we?"

Godai simply shifted his stance, slightly hunched but still standing straight. For a moment, both remained where they were, until Daguva slowly stepped forward. As Godai did the same, the Grongi King raised an arm towards him.

In a blink of an eye, Godai was burning. The unforgettable searing heat returned, he could feel his insides inflamed, yet his body seemed to be healing at an incredible rate as he felt little pain from them. In response, Godai raised his arm and commanded Daguva's body to burn.

Like him, Daguva flinched when he was alit, but both kept walking closer as their bodies kept burning. Godai knew that he could do more; command the snow around them to form into icicle spears or even douse himself, force the air out of Daguva's lungs, lock his feet by burying it into the earth.

But he didn't want to. And due to what he's assuming to be a twisted sense of honor, Daguva did nothing as he let himself be burned as Godai was.

As both slowly closed in on each other, eventually one of them had to strike. Godai then shook his arms in a wave, commanding the flames that's burning him to douse themselves, and they did as his walk turned into a dash, a fist raised for an attack.

Daguva responded in kind. Seconds later, their fists landed on each other, and due to how powerful they both were, flesh was torn and geysers of blood immediately spilled.

Such grievous wounds would incapacitate even the hardest of warriors, such an amount of spilled blood would weaken many more, but their enhanced bodies numbed their pains as the wounds closed and healed themselves. Godai and Daguva traded punches and kicks, shedding blood with each blow, yet healing just as soon as they're injured.

They kept hitting one another, over and over as they painted the field red. Until Godai went low and punched Daguva's buckle, the source of his immense power, cracking it. He thought he had him, but Daguva parried and retaliated by striking his belt, cracking it in return.

Yet they kept going as their armored forms dissolved and both Godai and Daguva reverted into their human forms.

Godai secretly wished that Daguva had stayed in his monstrous form; killing him would be easier that way. But fate was unkind to him as he must now beat a young man to death with his bare hands.

The fact that Daguva was laughing and smiling all the time didn't help.

Godai's thoughts conjured images of past victims of the Grongi, especially the younger ones. He couldn't help but see their faces as he threw his fists into Daguva's, and each punch he took reminded him of what he's up against.

Daguva, the Grongi, may look human, but it's merely a mask for what he truly was within.

The Grongi wanted to fight and kill because it's all a game to them, to seek which can become the deadliest and strongest. Godai had to fight because he wanted to protect everyone's smiles and help others. Yet now he's destroying a smile that was as sincere as it was inhuman.

A smile of a madman.

It was too much for Godai, as his body weakened from blood loss and exhaustion, the stings of pain flaring across his body, his inner turmoil turned into sorrow as tears ran down his face. Sobbing contrasted by chuckling, sadness against joy, a kind wounded heart versus a cruel empty soul.

Eventually, both knew that they're at their limits. While Daguva continued chuckling like a madman, Godai's tears kept flowing, the man sobbed as he looked upon his enemy.

With one last cry of anguish, Godai raised his fist for one final strike, roaring out his frustrations as Daguva did the same, laughing to his last breath instead.

Their fists landed at the same time, into each other's face. Blood spilled out of their mouths as their final blows threw them into the snowy, blood filled ground.

Godai could only hear the world ringing and feel his heart beating rapidly. The snowy field seemed to be cooling his adrenaline fueled body as exhaustion washed over him.

He didn't know if Daguva was dead or not, he sincerely wished he was, as much as the thought disgusted him for even wishing for someone's death. But his mind was too addled to create anything more complex.

He was… so damn tired.

'Please… let it be over.' Godai thought to himself, 'Please let me rest. Please let me see the world again. Please let everyone else be alright.'

Godai Yuusuke, like most Japanese, was not as religious as the rest of the world. Yet he believes in a higher power, because how else could all the good he saw when travelling the world could exist? Someone made them, and if they're man-made, something inspired the builders to create those wonders. He knew most of them had more nuanced stories than that, but Godai liked to believe the goodness in people's hearts.

Godai was too weak to pick himself up, so he lied still as he felt his heartbeat slowing down. He couldn't tell if it's because the adrenaline was fading or if he was dying.

Either way, it was over. His thoughts began to recall the faces of those he had said goodbye to.

His teacher, the man who helped Godai to become the man he is today, Kanzaki-sensei; Enokida-san, the scientist who has helped him and the police in fighting the Grongi; Tsubaki-san, the doctor who's been treating him ever since he became Kuuga, and the only man to know how to examine his enhanced body; Oyassan–Uncle Kazari Tamasaburo–and his niece Asahina Nana-chan, who became anchors for Godai into normalcy as he occasionally helps them in the Polé-Polé cafe; his little sister Minori and the children in the nursery school she works at; Jean and Sakurako-san, whom without them he couldn't have figured out the history of the Linto and Grongi tribes, revealing the abilities of Kuuga at the same time; and Ichijo-san…

Godai couldn't help but smile; he made the detective promise to shoot his belt should he ever become a being of Ultimate Darkness, but with Daguva cracking the core, he wouldn't be forced to shoot him.

Both understood the necessity of such an act, but Godai was glad it didn't come to that.

Despite everything that has happened, like he told Ichijo a few minutes ago, he doesn't regret what his life has become, nor does he regret meeting everyone ever since he became Kuuga. He was glad to have met Ichijo, reuniting with Sakurako-san and Minori, and so many more new and old bonds.

But… Godai felt that he's probably not going to be able to see them ever again.

He hoped he was wrong, and despite telling them that he would go on another adventure after today, he'd very much like to see them all one last time before moving on towards a new journey.

Somewhere where the skies are blue.

He heard something echoing. Godai thought it was the storm finally dissipating, but he swore he heard someone calling out his name.

He recognized that voice.

'Ichijo-san… I did it.'

Eventually, Godai felt his consciousness slipping. He tried to stay awake, but the snow made everything blurry. So much he almost thought he'd seen his own body being lifted up to the skies. Oddly, his body seemed to be transparent so perhaps he's looking at his own soul?

He doesn't know if he's worthy of heaven, but it would be great to finally take a long rest.

And thus, he closed his eyes, and let exhaustion put him to sleep.

---

28 Years after the death of Himmel the Hero. Northern Lands, Decke Region.

"Twenty more to go, Stark. You can do it."

Ever since meeting Kraft the Elven Monk, Stark had been given routine exercises for about 5 months while they're stuck in this small hut.

Meanwhile, Frieren and Fern were busy cooking for lunch. It was fortunate that there was a forest nearby with plenty of animals and fruits that can survive in this cold region, so Kraft's supplies wouldn't run out anytime soon.

The redheaded warrior hoped that the blizzard would end soon, he's sure Frieren and Fern were also getting sick of being stuck in this area. Kraft used the words "stir-crazy" and "cabin fever" to describe the feeling of restlessness he has, being stuck in the same location for a prolonged period of time.

The boy was surprised that the first word was first coined by prisoners, according to Kraft, but knowing what jails were like, Stark could understand how one of them might come up with new words to pass the time.

Speaking of which, he should be about done with his pushups. The setup he's been given involved a wooden box filled with whatever heavy objects they find around the hut or the forest, put it onto his back, and then Kraft sat on the box as he exercised.

"Forty-seven… forty-eight… forty-nine… fifty!"

Stark heard Kraft clapping his hands, "Well done, young Stark."

The young man felt his back being lighter as the elf got off the box and picked it off of him. Stark stood up and stretched his body to ease off any soreness, before turning to the older man, "Thanks again, Kraft."

"Anytime. I'll come up with a different regiment next time, so perhaps we could discuss what you want to do before–"

Stark saw Kraft's eyes widening. He was about to ask what was wrong, before he saw Fern stumbling to the floor, and Frieren dropping a plate before she could put lunch onto it.

Then, Stark felt it; a terrible sense of dread, piercing his body from top to bottom, chilling him to the bone.

This fear felt almost familiar, but unlike the dragon and the demons he and Fern fought when they were in Graf Granat's domain, this was much worse.

It reminded him of the demon that destroyed his village; the one that killed his brother Stoltz.

But at the same instant he felt this dread, it disappeared just as quick. What felt like minutes to them were merely seconds in reality.

"Wha… What the hell was that?" Stark muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, he remembered that Fern just fell, and immediately went to her, kneeling to check on the girl. He could see the sweat forming on her face, eyes seemed dazed from whatever they just felt. Stark realized that as a mage, Fern would've been much more sensitive to whatever caused the dreadful sensation, so he decided to get her attention by shaking her by the shoulder, and asked, "Fern, are you alright? Whatever that was, it's over."

Fern blinked rapidly as she registered his voice. Still shaken, the girl looked at the boy and nodded, "I'm… I'm alright, Master Stark."

Nodding back, Stark helped her up, Fern letting him do so as he steadied her in case she lost her balance. Thankfully, it was unnecessary as she used magic to call her staff into her hand, letting her lean onto it.

Satisfied with her well-being, Stark looked back at Kraft, who had his back turned as he seemed to be looking at the door. He couldn't help but ask the older man, "What could that be?"

"Whatever it was… I hesitate to call it demonic in nature even if it felt similar, but in my long life, I never felt anything like it." Kraft admitted, and considering he was much older than Frieren, that's saying something.

Speaking of, Stark turned to the elven leader of this party, the white haired woman was still frozen in place, but her head seemed to be cocked aside, as if she was trying to figure out what happened.

Before he could ask, Frieren summoned her staff from the ether and turned around, "It's almost demonic, but I'm positive that it's not." She explained, making her way to the door, "However, I sensed an extremely powerful darkness emitting from somewhere nearby, probably a few miles from here.."

"Mistress Frieren, are you sure it's not a demon?" Fern asked, tightening her grip on her staff, "Could a demon even emit their mana at great distances? I don't recall anything like that in the History of Magic…"

"And I've never encountered anybody–humans, elves, or demons–that could project their mana in this manner. This is… something different. Kraft and I will go, you and Stark stay here."

Stark might've gotten experience fighting fearsome foes, but he was glad that Frieren said that they should stay. But of course, the girl objected to that, "Mistress Frieren… I understand the potential danger coming from whatever caused that wave of dread, but this feels like something a First-Class Mage would be dealing with. If I can't even face it, what chance do I have when I enter the selective examination? How could I be considered a First-Class Mage if I stayed here?"

Stark understood the sentiment; if Master Eisen had told him to stay after he's proven his capabilities to the old dwarf, he'd have objected as well. The more cautious part of him reminded Stark that letting the veterans handle it would be safer.

However, if he was asked to come along…

"Hmm… very well. You and Stark will walk behind us, let me assess the situation when we get there."

Well, guess he got volunteered again. Such is a Warrior's burden.

---

The raging blizzard had calmed in the hut's vicinity, but as Frieren's Party and Kraft walked closer into the source of the dreadful mana, they were practically snowblinded. Winds howled like wailing ghosts, the four trekked further as the storm intensified.

Kraft's presence was most helpful as he ensured both Fern and Stark weren't disoriented or affected by exhaustion, Frieren had gone a bit further ahead to sense the source of the dreadful mana.

Then, the skies lit up; lightning bolts flashed in a blink of an eye, followed by deafening thunders. But the most anomalous sight was a giant pillar of light appearing out of the ground a few miles ahead of them, sparks of lightning jolted out from it as it reached above the clouds.

Stark instinctively shrieked, and would've lost his balance if not for Kraft holding him in place. Fern hugged her staff, closing her eyes as the pillar raged on. But just as soon as it appeared, it dissipated in seconds, fading away into nothingness as the blizzard seemed to become less intense.

The elf checked on the two young humans, and nodded at their wellbeing. Kraft turned to assure the redhead with a smile, "Don't worry, it's over now."

"What even was that?! That was so loud! Is there some sort of lightning demon in this region?!" Stark cried out, fear clearly audible in his voice.

"Master Stark, I believe we would've known for sure if a demon was responsible, for it'll attack us immediately." Fern interjected, hands firmly gripped onto her staff. The girl did her best to remain calm but eventually her shaking hands were clearly seen by both men.

"Easy for you to say! I bet you can block lightning with the shield spell of yours…"

"Master Stark, I'm unsure if I could cast it faster than lightning, let alone a thunderbolt spell… I wonder if Mistress Frieren could have detected–"

"I see someone lying over there."

The elven woman interrupted their conversation, Kraft beckoned the two youths and they followed suit. As they got closer to the elven mage, they realized that she was standing on the edge of a crater, the surrounding was scorched black and smoke was forming from the embers.

And in the epicenter was a man in black, lying on his back.

Kraft narrowed his eyes, the turned to Frieren, "Is he a demon?"

"I can't see any horns from this distance." The mage admitted, "We need to get closer to him… and whatever the source of the dreadful mana was, it's not from him."

"Could it be from someone else?"

Frieren remained stoic, but she was scanning for any other mana signatures in the vicinity. For a moment, she thought she felt something far in the distance, but due to the severity of the storm there was nothing to see, and she didn't detect any other mana besides her own and Fern's. Whatever it was that she felt, it's either long gone or was never there to begin with.

She hoped for the latter. Would be annoying to find out if she was wrong on the way to or returning from Aureole.

"Fern, you're better at mana detection than I am." Frieren admitted, turning to her human apprentice, "Do you feel anything besides us and that man over there?"

"Just a moment, Mistress Frieren." Fern nodded, closing her eyes to help her focus on detecting other mana signatures. A few seconds passed, the girl eventually shook her head as she told her teacher, "I sense nothing else. It's just you and I with obvious mana output. Since he's unconscious I can't tell if that man's a mage or not."

Believing in Fern's superior mana detection, Frieren chose to simply nod. She then turned to Kraft, "As she said, there's nothing else. Let's go help him."

Frieren stepped into the crater and let herself slide inwards. The rest followed suit, Kraft similarly slid as Frieren did, while Stark stumbled and rolled over like a log. Fern shook her head as she used her magic to levitate and float her way down. Eventually, Stark's rolling halted as the ground evened out, the boy groaned out a whine while his belly on the ground.

"Please be careful next time, Master Stark." Fern cautioned as Kraft helped Stark on his feet, and landed next to him, "We may not have enough supplies to medicate both you and whoever is lying over there."

Stark answered with a grumble, shaking off the snow on his jacket, "Yeah, yeah…"

Kraft could only smirk as they bantered for a bit, he wondered when one of them would realize their feelings for one another, but it wasn't his business to meddle in romantic affairs. He may never see them again, so he ought to make a note to check on their relationships in a few decades from now.

However, the brief levity died down as Frieren waved her hand at them, "He's completely human, alive but covered in blood."

The three immediately made their way to Frieren, crouching next to the mysterious man.

Something was different about him, besides the odd material his clothing seemed to be made of. Kraft voiced out his thoughts, "Huh. In all the centuries I've lived, never have I seen a person like him; is he from an undiscovered ethnic tribe I missed, or has the king finally commissioned an expedition to find new continents and brought back foreign friends when I wasn't looking? His attire seems odd, but aside from missing a pair of gloves at least he's dressed appropriately."

"I've never seen someone that looked similar to him during my travels with Himmel." Frieren added, "Although it might be simply because I didn't pay much attention to most people back then. Never been there, but maybe he's from the Southern Lands?"

"Perhaps. I don't remember the last time I went there, though."

It was obvious from how he looked that the man has a different countenance compared to the people of the Central and Northern Lands. Fern and Stark knew only one dwarf and two elves, and they hadn't travelled far enough to meet different sorts of human tribes, but there was one thing for sure; he seemed to be human.

Speaking of, the man suddenly coughed out spats of blood over himself. It was obvious by his groaning that not only was he alive, but he's also in pain.

Simultaneously, Frieren and Fern jolted in their spot, the latter lost their balance and crumpled on her knees, breathing heavily. The former remained where she was with only raised eyebrows to indicate her surprise.

"Fern!" Stark shouted as he ran closer to the girl, kneeling to her, "What's wrong, speak to me!"

The young mage closed her eyes, gripping her staff tightly as a mean to focus herself back into reality. Eventually, she pointed towards the fallen man, before her arm slacked, "He… his mana is ridiculously immense. And also so… intense."

"That guy's a mage? No, nevermind that, you looked like you're having trouble breathing."

"I confess that his aura feels suffocating, Master Stark but… no, wait. It's not as intense as before. In fact it's getting fainter and stable. Ah, it appears Mistress Frieren is doing something about that."

The two humans then saw both elves hovering over the man, Kraft holding his body up while Frieren seemed to be using her magic to inspect him. The magical sphere around her hand seemed to shift colors in order from white, red, blue, green, purple, gold, and black. When her hand reached his waist, the sphere sparked wildly as it behaved like a ball of lightning, the colors shifting in random sequences.

Frieren dismissed it and said, "There's something in his body that's emitting some form of magical energy. I have never encountered this sort before, but it feels ancient."

Kraft nodded in response, "I see. But further analysis can be done once we get him into the hut."

The man in black then raised a hand, as if to grasp something. Kraft decided to give him his hand and firmly gripped it, "It's alright, you're among friends now. We'll get you someplace safe and patch you up."

His eyes were half covered by his bangs, the man in black seemed to have difficulties focusing. He then looked at Kraft, and to Frieren, as he expressed recognition to both of them. He took a few deep breaths before addressing the elves, "Mae govannen… Mellon."

Both Frieren and Kraft raised their brows in unison, and as the man raised his hand, he curled his fingers close with the exception of his thumb, and smiled at them, despite his bloodied grin. Before they could ask him anything else, his arm slacked and fell as he went limp.

Frieren used another spell to inspect the man, and seconds later she told Kraft, "It's alright, he only lost his consciousness."

Kraft exhaled a sigh of relief, "That's good…. To think that this human knows Ancient Elvish, at least one of the few that are still known in my youth."

By now, both Fern and Stark made their way closer to the elves, and heard the same words they heard. Fern wondered aloud, "I suppose it makes sense that different races would have their own languages. May I assume there are books regarding that subject?"

"I doubt it." Kraft denied, "The libraries I've visited never have them, and I doubt the elders would be willing to share such knowledge. I haven't heard it spoken since my parents were still alive."

Kraft couldn't help but chuckle, "Do I even want to know how long ago that was?"

"Perhaps not. Frieren, did the elders of your village teach you Sindarin?"

The elven mage stroked her chin, before answering Kraft, "They did… It's been a while since I spoke or wrote with it, but it's exceptionally rare to know anybody in this age to speak it outside of us elves."

Fern cocked her head aside, "So what did he say, Mistress Frieren?"

"He said, 'Well met, friend.' in the old tongue. I'm sure he'll explain himself once he's healed up."

And so, as Stark and Kraft carried the man to the safety of the hut, thus begins a story of a New Hero, who will inspire a New Legend to be told across the kingdoms.

Somewhere in a City of Magic, an ancient blonde elf smiled to herself, knowing that whatever caused the oddly powerful mana bursts she defected would make this century much more interesting.

Sometime in the past, an omniscient demon had visions of an ancient warrior from another realm appearing in his future. The battles he foresaw will become much harder with his presence, especially because he joined the party of a certain elven mage. Yet, he also saw visions of another that came with him, something more similar to his kind, yet much different. Thus the demon began to create plans for them both.

In parts unknown, a former would-be king who Long, Long Ago lost everything he held dear due to the manipulations of an ancient cult and horrible visions of his dark future felt the appearance of someone similar to himself, who has also been marked by the Cross of Fire. He had been exiling himself in solitude out of shame and guilt, but perhaps meeting this junior of his might be a worthwhile endeavor.

And elsewhere, the Red Hunter of the Icon blessed by a powerful Seed stirs. Ready to Go, Counting down their eventual meeting to Zero.

 

[Stranger D Quester]

Fanfiction.net Link

AO3 Link

 

[Stranger D Quester]

Hi everyone, as I said it's my first story in QQ, but I've been writing for a long time, way back when I used to be in DeviantArt.

Just done posting a second story, but it's in the NSFW section since it'll be a more mature story (not that way) and gotta admit, feels good to finally post things here after years of lurking.

I write a lot of crossovers and self inserts. The former, I've done some niche crossovers nobody else has thought of and maybe when I have time, I'll post some of them here, in both sections... But they're probably going to the nsfw part of the site since I haven't written anything that's basically T-Rated in years, until this one you're reading.

I love Tokusatsu, and Kamen Rider Kuuga is one of my all-time favorites. Reading Frieren somewhat reminded me of how chill Kuuga was outside of the monster fightings, and thanks to season 2 of the anime I was inspired enough to write this story.

It feels just right, Godai Yuusuke needs a god-damned break and a fantastic adventure should do the job. I'll admit that writing a post-story Godai will be difficult because he's definitely hiding his trauma under all the smiling, but I'll do my best to write him well enough.