In Black clover with Grimoire of Omnitrix

Ambush Site...

With preparations complete, the ambush site looked like a natural winter wonderland—albeit one teeming with unseen dangers.

Charlotte's Briar Magic wove deadly traps beneath the snow's serene surface, while Nebra's mist rolled in, obscuring the area in a thick, magical haze.

Ben watched as the traps were hidden to perfection, and then turned to Nebra.

"Nebra, cover the area completely. We need them disoriented."

Nod~

"Mist Magic: Transient Illusion."

Nebra opened her grimoire, its pages glowing faintly as she chanted the incantation.

A dense mist poured from her palms, swirling into the air like smoke before spreading outward.

The mist quickly engulfed the entire area, blanketing it in an eerie, dreamlike fog.

Thanks to the high magic density in the Chillbound Wildwood, the mist absorbed enough mana to make sensory spells or tracking abilities nearly useless within its radius.

"Perfect. Take cover,"

Ben said, his tone calm yet resolute.

Nebra gave him a brief nod and retreated to her position, blending into the mist as she prepared herself for the ambush.

Click~

Ben turned his attention to the Omnitrix on his wrist.

With a press of a button, the dial clicked upward, its holographic display spinning through the icons of various aliens.

"Now, let's try something new,"

Ben muttered, his lips curling into a smirk.

Thud~

The dial locked onto the selected alien.

With a determined press, a radiant green flash erupted, enveloping Ben in its glow.

His form began to shift, limbs elongating and bulking up, his posture dropping to a quadrupedal stance.

When the light faded, Ben stood transformed, now a fearsome Panuncian.

Ben's new body exuded raw power and primal menace.

His quadrupedal form resembled a fusion of a sabertooth tiger and a hyena, with crimson-red fur covering his muscular frame.

A mane of black, shaggy fur ran along his back, giving him a regal yet feral appearance.

His glowing green eyes scanned the foggy surroundings with predatory precision.

From his paws, sharp, retractable claws gleamed, ready to rend any foe.

His sabre-like teeth glinted in the dim light, and the horn on his dog-like snout only added to his intimidating visage.

With his powerful legs and muscular tail aiding his balance, Ben moved with a feline grace.

Each step was deliberate and silent, his new senses heightened to an incredible degree.

Through the mist, Ben crouched low, his ears twitching as he listened for even the faintest disturbance.

The forest was eerily silent, the thick mist muffling all sound.

Only the faint crackle of ice breaking underfoot and the rustle of shifting branches betrayed the ambush party's readiness.

Ben's nose twitched, his enhanced sense of smell picking up faint traces of something foreign—human sweat.

"They're close,"

he growled, his voice deep and guttural in this form.

His face extends into a feline snout, complete with large saber-like canine teeth and a small horn protruding from his nose, characteristic of Panuncians.

As the transformation completed, the Omnitrix symbol glowed faintly on Ben's chest, positioned prominently at the centre of his black fur with jagged green spikes radiating outward.

The symbol pulsated, as if in sync with the energy surging through his transformed body.

Ben felt the immediate impact of his new form.

His senses sharpened to an almost overwhelming degree.

His eyes adjusted seamlessly to the misty dimness, rendering it as clear as daylight.

Every movement in the fog, no matter how subtle, was caught by his keen gaze.

His ears twitched, catching distant sounds—the faint crunch of snow, the rhythmic beat of approaching footsteps, even the subtle rustle of wind brushing against tree branches.

Scents from the forest burst into sharp clarity, every trace of life detectable—sweat, leather, steel, even the faint musk of magical creatures nearby.

Growl~

Ben let out a low, guttural growl, a sound that reverberated through the mist like a predator announcing its dominance.

With a powerful yet silent stride, he disappeared into the mist, his red-and-black silhouette melting into the fog.

The sudden shift in Ben's aura was palpable.

His guards, already hidden among the trees and shadows, exchanged uneasy glances as the primal presence of their king in this form swept over them.

For a moment, some felt an instinctual chill, as though they were being hunted.

"As expected of His Majesty,"

Harry muttered, his tone filled with pride and awe.

Hidden behind a tree with two guards flanking him, he couldn't help but admire the sheer predatory elegance of the transformation.

Even if he couldn't fully comprehend the magic behind it, the result was undeniable.

The guards near Harry swallowed involuntarily.

"It's hard to believe that's the same warm, approachable king,"

one whispered.

Mereoleona, perched on a thick tree branch above the ambush site with a few guards nearby, raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm, seems like this king's got more spine than I thought,"

she mused, leaning forward slightly, her sharp eyes tracking Ben's last visible movements before he vanished.

Her tone was laced with intrigue, starkly contrasting the fiery disdain she had initially shown toward him during the crowing ceremony when her brother summoned her.

Even from this distance, she could sense the transformation wasn't just physical; it carried a predatory aura so intense that it almost felt tangible.

Though Mereoleona prided herself on her fearlessness, Ben's aura gave her pause—not in fear but in admiration.

Her thoughts briefly drifted to her brother, Fuegoleon, who had previously spoken about Ben's transformation magic.

While she had dismissed it as another oddity, seeing it firsthand stirred her interest.

She tapped the branch beneath her.

"This is going to be fun,"

she said, her grin widening as the predatory tension in the air heightened.

Even as the ambush site grew deathly quiet, a storm of anticipation began to build.

The hunt was about to begin, and the king himself was leading it from the shadows.

Dosill side...

Dosill's summoning spell had proven reliable countless times before, but this time, his calculated demeanour began to crack as the ambush unfolded terrifyingly.

The clearing, shrouded in Nebra's dense mist, became a deathtrap.

The air was heavy with tension, the occasional crunch of snow or a soft growl piercing through the silence.

As Dosill observed his wolves halting at the frozen stream, his sharp instincts screamed a warning, but some of his companions were less cautious.

Tuck~

With a sudden snap, a pit trap opened beneath a few mercenaries.

Their startled cries were cut short as they plunged into the depths, where Charlotte's Briar Magic sprung to life, vicious green vines piercing their bodies with unrelenting force.

Ahhh~

One of the victims managed a scream before being silenced, the vines leaving their forms riddled with gory punctures.

"Shit! We fell for their trap!"

one of the surviving mercenaries shouted, panic evident in his voice.

Others began to shuffle nervously, trying to gauge the safety of their footing, but their unease only grew.

"Calm down! Don't move!"

Dosill barked, his tone commanding.

Some heeded his advice, but others, newer recruits unfamiliar with Dosill's methods, made the fatal mistake of ignoring him.

Swish~ Swish~

Arrows, each laced with elemental magic, fire, water, and more, shot out from hidden positions, striking their heads with deadly precision.

The sharp impacts and magical flashes sent fresh waves of fear through the remaining group.

The wolves, though creations of magic, began growling in warning, their hollow eyes gleaming with primal intensity.

The mist shifted ominously, and the atmosphere grew colder.

ROAR~

A bone-chilling roar cut through the air, paralyzing the assassins.

Thud~

Before anyone could react, a massive shadow lunged from the mist—a Panuncian.

Its crimson fur glistened with frost as it pounced on an unlucky mercenary, its sabre-like fangs sinking into his arm.

AHHHH~

"AHHHH! SAVE ME, DOSILL!"

the man screamed, thrashing as the beast dragged him into the mist, his cries fading into silence.

Panic erupted.

The remaining mercenaries unleashed their magic in a desperate volley at the retreating Panuncian.

BOOM~ CRACK~

Spells erupted, scorching the trees and shaking the earth, but they hit nothing but mist. The predator had vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Dosill's Calculated Response

"Move!"

Dosill commanded one of his summoned wolves.

The wolf howled and darted after the beast, following its trail to where the body of the dragged mercenary lay motionless.

The wolf sniffed the area, its senses heightened by the resonance magic.

Dosill, linked to the wolf's perception, recoiled at the sight of the corpse.

The body had been ravaged, with deep claw marks gouging across the chest and face.

"...It's here,"

Dosill muttered under his breath, steadying his nerves.

Just as he prepared to issue further commands to redirect the Panuncian, a low growl echoed.

From the mist, the Panuncian emerged, its glowing green eyes locked on the wolf sniffing at the body.

The magical beast prowled closer, every step deliberate and threatening.

Dosill planned to have the wolf distract the creature, but before he could act—

THUD~

Multiple Panuncians sprang from the mist, leaping from different directions and angles.

Their coordinated assault targeted the remaining mercenaries, dragging them away into the fog one by one.

"NO!"

Screams echoed as the assassins were torn from their positions, their fates sealed.

The mist swallowed them whole, leaving Dosill and a few survivors standing amidst the chaos.

His wolves, though strong, were now outmatched.

Their growls were silenced one by one as the predatory creatures overwhelmed them.

The resonance magic gave Dosill a final, grim perspective: his wolves, like the mercenaries, were mere prey in this carefully orchestrated ambush.

Gritting his teeth, Dosill clutched his grimoire tightly.

"This... isn't just any magical beast. This is something else entirely."

The Panuncians were no ordinary foes; they hunted with precision, intelligence, and bloodlust that mirrored a seasoned predator—qualities that made Dosill realize one thing: They were being outplayed.

The Panuncians' relentless assault continued each attack a devastating display of their ferocity.

One of the assassins, a bald man wielding a massive sword, stepped closer to Dosill, his narrowed eyes scanning the mist as he adjusted his stance.

"I think… we've stepped into these creatures' territory,"

he muttered grimly, gripping his blade tightly.

Suddenly—

ROAR~

A Panuncian leapt at him from behind.

Trusting his instincts, the mercenary spun around, swinging his heavy sword in a powerful arc.

The blade cleaved clean through the creature, splitting it in two.

"Ha! I got one!"

he shouted triumphantly.

But his celebration was short-lived.

The severed halves of the Panuncian writhed unnaturally before reforming into two identical creatures, their predatory eyes glowing with malice.

"What the—"

SLASH~

One lunged at his back, raking its claws down his spine, while the other crunched his arm in its powerful jaws, ripping it clean off.

"AHHHHH!"

The bald man's screams echoed through the clearing as the two Panuncians tore into him, their savage fury more akin to beasts playing with prey than feeding.

Standing frozen, Dosill observed the carnage.

Something was off.

The Panuncians didn't devour their victims.

They killed with calculated precision, discarding bodies like broken toys.

"This… isn't hunting,"

he murmured.

"They're targeting us deliberately."

As panic spread, a few of the mercenaries broke ranks, fleeing into the mist.

But their escape was short-lived.

Hidden guards and Harry, stationed within the mist, dispatched the fleeing assassins one by one with lethal efficiency.

As the last mercenaries fell, Charlotte emerged from the mist with a commanding presence.

Her thorny briars swayed ominously, framing her elegant yet deadly stance.

Moments later, Nebra stepped forward, mist swirling around her with eerie grace, while Mereoleona leapt down from a nearby tree, her fiery aura radiating raw power.

Sneer~

"How long are you going to hide?"

Mereoleona's disdainful voice cut through the silence, her fiery gaze locked on what appeared to be an empty patch of mist.

Her words hung in the air, met with silence.

Crackle~

"I hate repeating myself,"

she growled, summoning a fireball brimming with searing heat and dense mana.

Fufu~

A soft chuckle broke the tension.

From the mist, three figures emerged, their presence exuding a sinister confidence.

At the centre of the trio stood an elderly woman, her features eerily identical to Theresa Rapual, Mereoleona's former teacher.

Mereoleona's eyes widened in shock.

"Sensei?!"

But her surprise quickly turned to suspicion.

She scrutinized the woman, her sharp gaze locking onto her unblemished face.

"No… you're not her,"

Mereoleona growled, her tone shifting to one of accusation.

"Who are you?"

Her instincts screamed that something was wrong.

The lack of a scar on the woman's face—a defining mark she vividly remembered—confirmed it.

One of the other figures, a tall man with a mocking smirk, chuckled.

"Don't think you've fooled us. We've been waiting for you to make a move. Since you didn't, we decided to take the initiative,"

he sneered.

Charlotte's eyes narrowed coldly at the remark.

"You're not as clever as you think,"

she retorted, her tone laced with venom.

Meanwhile, Dosill, standing nearby, clenched his fists.

He knew these weren't ordinary adversaries.

Whatever their game was, they had planned this encounter meticulously.

Ignoring the others, Mereoleona fixed her fiery gaze on the woman who resembled her teacher.

"Answer me!"

she demanded, her mana surging as flames flickered around her fists.

"Who are you, and why do you wear my teacher's face?"

The old woman smiled faintly, her expression unreadable.

"You've always been as perceptive as your brother described,"

she said cryptically.

Mereoleona's patience snapped.

"Enough riddles!"

As the tension reached its breaking point, the forest grew still.

Both sides braced for the inevitable clash, their auras crackling with anticipation.

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(Author's POV)

(A/N): 

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