Chapter-24: Decisions
400 years Ago
"The dragon has three heads.
One to be a murderer, who will unleash death.
One to be a monarch, whose crown will weigh heavy.
And one to be mad, whose ideas will change history."
A young Zeref furrowed his brows, silver eyes wide with curiosity—eyes that had yet to carry the weight of his older self. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know," the man beside him replied, turning a piece of meat over the fire. His voice was deep, calm, yet edged with the wisdom of years.
He was no ordinary man. Standing at an imposing 8'3, his frame was both lean and muscular, his presence commanding without effort. His skin was lightly tanned, his gold, slitted eyes reflecting the flickering flames. His hair, wild and spiked, was a deep red with blackened tips, as if scorched by fire itself. Scars littered his body, but two stood out the most—the jagged cut over his right eye and the X-shaped scar carved into his right cheek.
Zeref studied him closely, fascinated. "Where did you hear that prophecy?"
The man let out a low chuckle, poking at the fire. "I heard it long ago, when I traveled through the stars."
Zeref blinked. "How does that even work?"
The man smirked, flipping the meat once more. "Are you asking how I traveled through the stars, or how I heard the prophecy?"
"The prophecy," Zeref clarified quickly, shifting closer.
The man's golden eyes flickered with something distant—memory, perhaps. "Sometimes, the stars whisper," he murmured. "You've heard of people reading the future in the stars, haven't you?"
Zeref nodded hesitantly. "Yes… but I thought it was just superstition."
"It's real," the man said simply. "The future hides within the cosmos, waiting for the right eyes to see it."
Zeref's curiosity deepened. "But… how does it feel? Do you just hear a whisper in space? Or is it… telepathy?"
The man's expression softened, as if remembering something long lost. "It's different every time," he said. "Sometimes, you hear it—soft voices threading through the void. Other times, you see it, written in the light of the stars. And sometimes…" He exhaled, watching the fire. "It simply enters your mind, and you know it's true."
A heavy silence settled between them. The fire crackled, the scent of roasting meat filling the air.
Zeref swallowed, the words lingering in his thoughts. A prophecy of three heads. Murderer. Monarch. Madman.
Somehow, he felt as if those words would follow him for the rest of his life.
Present
"The dragon has three heads.
One to be a murderer, who will unleash death.
One to be a monarch, whose crown will weigh heavy.
And one to be mad, whose ideas will change history."
Zeref repeated the words, his voice a quiet echo in the dimly lit room. His silver eyes, once filled with youthful curiosity, now held only the weight of centuries—of loss, of regret, of inevitability.
His fingers trailed absentmindedly over the polished wood of his desk, his thoughts tangled in the prophecy he had heard so long ago.
"I wonder… which one is which?"
He moved across the room, each step deliberate, as if pacing would bring clarity. The prophecy had lingered in his mind for centuries, a riddle he had yet to solve.
"Am I the monarch?" His voice was quiet, thoughtful. "Or the murderer? Or perhaps… the madman?"
Stopping at the window, he gazed out over the land bathed in eternal night. The darkness stretched endlessly across the continent, a curse by the makings of a god.
His thoughts turned to his brother. "Natsu…"
"Is Natsu the monarch? Or the mad one?" His fingers tightened against the windowsill. "Would Ignia be the murderer?"
A deep sigh left him as he watched the endless void of the cursed night.
Or perhaps…
The roles had yet to be decided.
P.O.P.C - A few Days After the Battle in New Crocus
Seated on a chair atop a grand balcony, Cain swirled the amber liquid in his glass, a book resting in his other hand. The book bore a simple cross on its cover—one of many attempts to record history, or rather, to rewrite it.
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest as he snapped the book shut.
"Oh, it never ceases to amuse me," he mused aloud. "Humans are utterly terrible at keeping history. But they are exceptional at inventing it."
Lifting his glass, he took a slow sip before shifting his gaze toward the approaching presence.
"Something I can help you with, child?" Cain's voice was almost amused, though laced with something deeper—perhaps understanding. "You should not yet be out of bed."
Sting stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze tugging at his hair. The bandages were gone, but he could feel it—his magic was nowhere near its full strength.
For a moment, he said nothing. He opened his mouth, but the words faltered before they could take form.
Cain gestured to an empty chair. "Sit, Sting." His tone was gentle, almost fatherly.
The younger Dragon Slayer hesitated before complying. With a snap of Cain's fingers, a basket of apples appeared before him.
"Apples…" Cain murmured, plucking one from the basket and rolling it between his fingers. "You know, humans believe it all started with an apple."
Sting gave a small nod. "The Fruit of Knowledge, right? From the Garden of Eden? The one Lucifer tricked Eve into eating, and then Eve convinced Adam?"
Cain chuckled—a deep, knowing sound. "Yes… but no. That's not what happened."
Sting blinked. "How so?"
Cain leaned back, his golden eyes glinting with something ancient. "Well, for starters, there was no Eden. And for second… Lucifer had no interest in us at the time, since he did not know we existed yet."
Cain studied him for a moment. Then, with a slight smirk, he asked, "Tell me, what do you know of Lucifer?"
Sting exhaled, trying to piece together what he had always believed. "Lucifer was an angel—one of the strongest. But he fell from grace and… hated humanity for some reason? He fought against it during the Great Demon Wars… at least, that's what I thought."
Cain laughed. Not a cruel laugh, nor a mocking one, but something deeper—laced with centuries of amusement and exasperation.
"Oh, child," Cain mused, shaking his head slowly. "You are so, so far from the truth."
He took a deep breath, as though pulling from memories older than history itself.
"The angels… they were not what you think. 'Angel' was more of a title than a race. Anything could be an 'angel'—a god, a dragon, even a demon. Appearance-wise, it simply referred to beings who had visible traits from their respective races—most often, wings. You see, back then, higher races were still evolving from demons. Many of them were more demon than anything else. The wings? That came from the demon side."
Sting's eyes widened slightly, his mind reeling.
Cain continued, his voice taking on an almost nostalgic tone. "Some of these so-called angels weren't even part of any order—they just looked the part. Humanoid forms with wings were rather common back then."
Cain leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant, as if recalling ancient knowledge. "Take Azrael, for instance. He is an ancient demon, nearly as old as the first god of death—a demon of death, mind you. It was Azrael who came to this realm the moment I killed Abel."
Sting's brows furrowed in confusion. "So... Lucifer was always a demon, then? What about Michael? Does he even exist?"
Cain's lips curled into a slight smile. "Yes, Lucifer was always a demon. But not just any demon. He was a special one—primordial, nearly a chaos god or a demon god. But he had not evolved."
"Evolved?"
Cain chuckled, leaning forward. "Where do you think the other higher beings came from?"
Sting blinked, processing the weight of the question. "I knew dragons and demons were connected, but... evolution?"
"All higher beings originated from demons," Cain said, his voice dripping with eerie certainty. "All of them. Phoenixes? Once demonic beasts of fire, they evolved into full-fledged fire demons before becoming the phoenixes you know today. Vampires? They were born from humans who drank the blood of a demon tied to the moon—which is why most of them burn in the sunlight."
Sting's throat tightened as a strange weight settled in his chest. "And dragons?"
Cain's gaze turned distant, lost in the echoes of eternity. "Dragons were the first race to evolve from demons. The oldest primordial demons gave rise to the first true dragons—the Primordial Dragons. From them came the Demonic Dragons, still tied to their demon origins. And over countless eons, from them arose the dragons you know today."
He paused, letting the magnitude of his words sink in before continuing.
"The gods followed a similar path. The first 'gods' were called Chaos Gods or Demon Gods. The title 'god' was simply a way to distinguish them from demon kings. But they pushed beyond their origins, transcending them to create a new form of power—divine power. They laid the foundation for Authority, Holy Magic, and Celestial Magic."
Cain's lips curled into a wry smile, as if savoring some ancient secret. "It was the only race to create an entirely new power system—one that could stand against true demonic energy."
Sting's mind struggled to grasp the enormity of what Cain was saying. "So... what is Michael then?"
Cain's gaze darkened, his expression growing somber. "Michael? He is one of the First Gods. One of the Primordial Gods. Creator of Holy Arts."
Sting's brow furrowed as he processed the revelation. "So, he created Holy Magic?"
Cain nodded slightly. "Yes. He was the one who forged the first version of Holy Magic and, in a sense, what would become Angelic Magic. If you had to categorize him, you could say he was the God of Angels, for he was the leader of the Order."
"And Celestial Magic? Was that him too?" Sting asked, his curiosity piqued.
"No," Cain answered, his voice softening. "Celestial Magic was the creation of a Primordial Goddess named Celestia. She crafted Celestial Magic, along with the Celestial Spirits and the realm they inhabit."
Cain took a slow bite from the apple, chewing thoughtfully. "So much knowledge you have yet to learn, young one. But I suspect you didn't come here for random history lessons."
Sting clenched his fists, frustration building. "No, no I did not."
Cain raised an eyebrow, his voice calm. "Then what is it you wish to know?"
Sting hesitated, then spoke in a quiet but determined tone. "... I want to know about Hybrids. Half-Demons, specifically. I want to know what kind of... thing Natsu is."
A slow, knowing smile curved Cain's lips. "Ah, about time. Right on schedule." He leaned back slightly, savoring the moment before he spoke again. "Natsu Dragneel... a Cambion Demon. That is the term for Half-Human, Half-Demon hybrids. And yet, without knowing it, one could not tell the difference between a full demon and a fully developed Cambion. Natsu, in particular, is a Perfect Cambion. His Demon and Human blood are in perfect harmony—100% compatibility. And on top of that, his Dragon blood, which came from Igneel, melded with his Demon blood. Igneel, as you may know, was an ancient dragon—some even claim he was a Demonic Dragon originally, but that's a discussion for another time."
Cain paused, looking at Sting as if weighing the gravity of what he was about to reveal. "Natsu's Dragon blood is intricately tied to his Demon side. He fully embodies the Hybrid effect. His Human side amplifies his Demon side, and his Demon side in turn empowers his Human side. It's a constant cycle of mutual enhancement—one feeding the other."
He leaned forward, his tone shifting. "But as for the Yamato and Amaris…"
Sting's curiosity piqued, his eyes narrowing. "What can you tell me about them?"
Cain's gaze turned distant, as if the memories were ancient and fragile. "The Yamato predates Natsu. It was once wielded by someone else, in a different form. Its primary power lies in Space and Time, but it possesses other formidable abilities. It's said to have control over Death itself. Rumors suggest that it was either forged by a God of Death or created specifically to slay one."
"And Amaris?" Sting pressed, eager to learn more.
"Ah, Amaris," Cain said with a faint smile, almost as if he had to resist admiration. "Goddess of the Night, Magic, Dreams, and Void. She is a being of deadly authorities, and while her raw power is formidable, it is her Haxes and skills that make her truly dangerous. Her authorities complement and enhance each other. Her mastery over Night and Void makes her one of the most powerful wielders of Darkness in existence. But her authority over Dreams is equally noteworthy."
Cain's eyes gleamed as he continued. "But it's her power over Magic that stands out above all. We cannot quantify the full extent of the magic she wields or creates, but what we do know is that mere minutes after she and Natsu formed their bond, she forged Natsu's Seraphic Dragon Monarch Slayer Magic. She also granted him a modified version of Night God Slayer Magic. Just having her at his side—her presence, her influence—makes Natsu a force to be reckoned with."
Sting's eyes widened as he absorbed the information. "So... she's like an unlimited source of power for him?"
Cain's grin stretched wider, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something darker. "Just her proximity to him grants Natsu access to hundreds of thousands of magics. Runes, enchantments, curses—anything, really. There's enough evidence to suggest that, should Natsu and Amaris choose, she could grant him any skill or power imaginable. Her authority over Magic is unparalleled. Even Odin's and Hecate's powers pale in comparison to hers. Amaris is THE Goddess of Magic, period."
Sting, though, didn't seem particularly comforted by the information. His mind raced, his body trembling with frustration, an overwhelming urge boiling inside him.
Cain's voice dropped lower, softer, but still cutting through the tension like a blade. "But…" He allowed the word to hang in the air for a moment, savoring it before adding, "No one is truly invincible."
Sting's eyes narrowed, his chest rising and falling with suppressed emotions. The rage he had been holding back finally bubbled to the surface, raw and unrestrained.
"…How?"
Cain echoed the word, his voice tinged with amusement. But beneath his smirk, he could sense the deeper turmoil raging within the young man. "How?"
"How… can I gain the strength to stand against something like that?" Sting's voice cracked slightly as his fists clenched tighter, his nails digging into his palms. "How can I… get my revenge?"
His silver eyes burned with intensity as he locked gazes with Cain. "How can I kill Natsu?"
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, Cain met Sting's gaze—and smiled.
P.O.P.C
Alucard and Veyra stood atop a hill, overlooking a town nestled in the mountains.
"Can you smell the vampires?" Alucard asked, his crimson eyes glinting in the moonlight.
Veyra inhaled deeply, her sharp senses scanning the air. "Yes. Around 7,300, I'd say."
Alucard smirked. "Around? Has your nose finally caught up to your age, oh mighty dragon?"
Veyra's eye twitched. "I WILL KILL YOU."
Alucard raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk widening. "Hey, hey, I didn't say you weren't in your prime. You totally are a hot-smoking-babe-I'd-love-to-fuck-until-we-both-can't-walk—"
"ALUCARD!"
"—but you keep shooting me down and killing my boner every time you're not in mating season."
Veyra's eyes flared slightly as she snarled. "I DO NOT HAVE A MATING SEASON! THAT IS A LIE MADE UP ABOUT DRAGONS!"
"Are you sure?" Alucard tilted his head, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Because I've been keeping track, and seven out of ten times we've fucked, it was in August—"
"THAT'S IT! I'M GONNA STAKE YOUR VAMPIRE ASS, YOU COCKY, BLOODSUCKING, SHIT-EATING, ARROGANT SON OF A—"
Veyra inhaled sharply, forcing herself to calm down.
Alucard opened his mouth to speak again, but one glare from her shut him up.
"All right, all right. I'll behave… for now," the vampire said, hands raised in mock surrender.
"Good. Now let's kill them all."
Alucard grinned. "And just like that, my boner's back."
The two descended upon the town, and in an instant, the streets erupted into chaos—gunfire and lightning strikes tearing through the night.
Laughter echoed as Alucard strode forward, unfazed by the barrage of magic bullets flying his way. The spells phased through him like mist, barely an inconvenience. With a feral grin, he seized a vampire by the face and ripped his head clean off.
Before the body even hit the ground, he sank his fangs into the next closest one, relishing the taste of fresh blood.
Veyra landed beside him in a crackling burst of electricity, her claws tearing through a cluster of vampires before they could react. Their screams barely had time to leave their throats before her lightning surged through their bodies, leaving behind smoldering husks.
Alucard wiped the blood from his lips, smirking as he watched her work. "Ah, nothing sexier than a woman with a kill count."
Veyra shot him a glare mid-slaughter. "Shut up and focus."
Alucard chuckled but did as she commanded. With a flick of his wrist, a pair of long, ornate pistols materialized in his hands—each glowing ominously with cursed energy.
He spun on his heel and fired.
Each shot tore through multiple vampires at once, their bodies exploding into showers of ash and gore. Some tried to escape, but Alucard moved like a shadow, appearing in their path before they could even blink.
"Leaving so soon?" Alucard taunted, pressing a gun under a vampire's chin and pulling the trigger. The creature's skull erupted in a fine mist of blood.
Meanwhile, Veyra soared above the battlefield, her massive coat casting a dark shadow over the streets below. Taking a deep inhale, she unleashed a devastating bolt of lightning, reducing an entire block of vampires to smoldering cinders.
"Fuck, I missed you!" Alucard shouted.
Veyra landed with a thunderous crash, the ground beneath her splintering from the sheer force. Her glowing eyes locked onto Alucard, irritation flickering in their depths. "Miss me? We were apart for two days."
Alucard laughed as he twisted the head off another vampire like he was popping the cap off a bottle. "And it was the worst two days of my immortal life!"
Veyra scoffed, effortlessly carving through a trio of vampires with a single swipe of her claws. "You're insufferable."
"I thrive on it, darling." Alucard holstered one of his pistols just in time to catch a lunging vampire by the throat. The creature gurgled and thrashed, its claws scraping uselessly against his arm. Unfazed, Alucard impaled it with his free hand, fingers burrowing deep into its chest cavity. A wicked grin spread across his face as he twisted his hand, searching—then with a sharp yank, he tore out its heart.
Holding the still-beating organ up, he smirked. "And yet, you keep coming back to me."
Veyra rolled her eyes, sending another burst of lightning crackling through her fingertips. The energy surged forward, arcing between a dozen vampires at once. Their bodies convulsed violently before collapsing into smoldering heaps.
"I come back because you'd be dead without me," she shot back, shaking the ash from her claws.
Alucard grinned, licking the blood from his fingers before tossing the still-beating heart over his shoulder. "You wound me, Veyra." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
The two continued their rampage across the town, tearing through vampire after vampire with a lethal elegance that only two beings like them could manage. Alucard's guns flashed in the dimming light, each shot landing with precision, while his hands moved like a blur, ripping through the undead with sickening ease.
As the last few vampires scattered, hoping to escape, Veyra shot a glance at Alucard. "Are they all gone, or do I need to incinerate a few more?"
Alucard wiped the blood from his face, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement as he observed the last few vampires scramble in a frantic, hopeless attempt to escape. But before they could flee, Veyra's lightning tore through them, reducing their bodies to ash. Alucard chuckled darkly, tossing his guns aside and casually stepping over the charred remains of the fallen. "They're all gone. It's almost too easy." He couldn't help but grin. "They didn't stand a chance, did they?"
Veyra, her eyes narrowing with barely-contained frustration, exhaled slowly. "I suppose not. Let's see if we can find something more interesting."
P.O.P.C.
In a dark, dimly lit chamber, an army stood in perfect formation. They wore a striking uniform—pitch black with crimson accents—identical to the military garb of Alvarez's elite. The room was eerily quiet except for the faint sound of breath and the rustle of clothing. At the far end of the room, an elevated stage was bathed in a dull red glow, casting an ominous light over the proceedings.
Atop the stage stood a man, his posture calm but his expression electric with anticipation. His hair was metallic gray, slicked back, and his sharp red eyes gleamed with a peculiar mix of ambition and excitement. He was of average height, his physique lean but refined. He wore a white suit, pristine in contrast to the bloodied uniforms of the soldiers before him. Round glasses rested upon his nose, adding an intellectual air to his otherwise cold demeanor.
The man raised his hand slowly, causing the army to fall silent. They stood at attention, their eyes fixed upon him.
He trembled slightly, a tear welling up in the corner of his eye as he spoke in a voice strained with emotion. "Gentlemen... we are... we are—"
P.O.P.C.
Alucard and Veyra stood before a massive hangar, the structure clearly designed to withstand almost anything. As they approached, Alucard casually kicked the door open, his eyes scanning the room methodically. He looked at the floor, the walls, the ceiling... even the curtains that hung in the shadows.
A wide grin spread across Alucard's face as he spotted something familiar. His gaze locked onto a symbol, one that stirred a long-forgotten memory, a sense of recognition.
Veyra stepped into the hangar behind him, her piercing eyes narrowing. "What are you—"
Alucard's laughter echoed through the hangar before she could finish her question. He looked at her, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "What's wrong, Veyra?"
Veyra closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. When she opened them again, her expression hardened. She took another slow breath, and her voice lowered, dripping with disbelief. "It's the fucking…"
P.O.P.C.
"-NAZIS!"
His loud, manic voice filled the room as the man on the stage's expression shifted from joy to pure rapture. He clenched his fists, shaking with barely contained excitement, his voice trembling.
The army below him erupted in unison, their voices booming in fervor. "Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!" they chanted, their arms raised in a uniform salute, completely lost in their devotion to the cause.
The sight was chilling, the air thick with zealotry and madness. The man stood proud on the stage, basking in the adoration of his soldiers, his eyes gleaming with the promise of something far more sinister on the horizon.
He sniffed dramatically, wiping away a single tear as if he had just discovered the true meaning of life itself. "And we…" he paused, his voice shaking with passion, "we want war!" His arms flung out in a broad, sweeping gesture, as if the very air were his stage, and the world itself was watching. His body trembled with excitement, caught in the fervor of his own rhetoric.
The army, lost in a haze of adoration and fanatical obedience, repeated the chant in perfect harmony, "Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!" The words came with a force that seemed to rattle the foundations of the room, their fervor almost palpable.
"And we—will have war!" the man shouted again, pacing the stage with the manic energy of an over-caffeinated motivational speaker. His voice was shaking, his breath ragged with anticipation.
"Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!" The chant grew louder, more fervent, as if the very walls of the room might crumble under the weight of their devotion.
The man grinned, his eyes wild with the certainty of what was to come.
P.O.P.C
Minutes later, the man walked into a private lobby, the grin still firmly plastered on his face, as if the echoes of his raucous speech still reverberated in his mind. He exhaled sharply, his excitement palpable.
"What an exciting performance," came a voice from the shadows, smooth and chilling, as though the very words carried an unsettling weight. The figure speaking was shrouded in darkness, only the faintest outlines of his form visible in the dimly lit room.
"Good job, Montina. I am most entertained," the voice continued, the undertones of its speaker thick with something almost predatory, something far too dangerous for the mundane world to understand.
Man of a Different World
War Machine
A Former Human
Cyborg Vampire
The Major
Montina Max
Montina smirked, the expression unfazed by the ominous presence that loomed in the room. His posture remained relaxed, confident even, as he glanced toward the source of the voice.
"I'm glad you're entertained," Montina replied, his voice unbothered, almost dismissive. "What brings you here, Lord Alastor?"
The Harbinger of Madness
Demon of Madness and Curses
A Devil of Horror
Alastor
Alastor's presence was an enigma in itself, something that distorted the very fabric of reality around him, making the air feel wrong and unsettling. Standing at a towering 9'9", his form was impossibly slender, his limbs stretching unnaturally long, a sight that would send most into immediate dread. His skin was a sickly white, almost translucent, veins of black and dark red pulsing just beneath the surface, shifting ever so slightly as though alive with malice.
His eyes—those glowing crimson eyes—pierced through the shadows with a gaze that could freeze a soul in place. His mouth, though, was what truly struck fear into anyone who dared to look at him, an unnaturally wide, permanent grin stretched across his face, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, gleaming in the darkness with an insatiable hunger.
Alastor's hair, dark and disheveled, fell to his shoulders, adding to his ghastly appearance. His face was sharp and angular, high cheekbones casting shadows over a narrow, almost skeletal jaw. Every movement of his spindly form distorted the air, as if reality itself warped around him—unnerving, unsettling, as if he were something out of a nightmare, something that shouldn't belong in this world.
He was dressed in a long black suit, the fabric old but well-maintained, with red accents marking the sleeves and coat.
"Well," Alastor's voice slithered through the air, his words seemingly coiling around Montina's mind like a dark whisper, drawing his attention back to him. "I've come to see the masterpiece you've crafted here. Your little performance was... delightful."
Montina raised an eyebrow, reclining even further in his seat, his posture relaxed, almost indifferent. "I do try to entertain, Lord Alastor. But, do you require something else?"
Alastor casually draped himself across the couch, the length of his towering figure adding an unsettling weight to the space. His right shoulder rested a cane, its size seemingly chosen to complement his immense height, the polished wood glinting in the low light. "I am here to offer aid, Major," he began, his voice dripping with a playful malice that seemed to resonate through the air. "It would appear your old friend… has figured out you are here. And he seems to be hunting you."
Montina's lips twitched into a knowing smile. "Ah, Alucard. Dracula Himself."
Alastor's grin stretched impossibly wider, his mouth contorting into a grotesque mockery of amusement. "Alucard. Dracula himself. Quite the nuisance, wouldn't you agree?" His voice dropped to a low, almost melodic whisper, the kind that made the hair on the back of one's neck stand on end. "But I'm sure you've devised a plan of sorts to handle this, haven't you?"
Montina chuckled darkly, the sound icy and detached, like a predator sizing up its prey. "A plan? Oh, my dear Alastor, I don't deal in plans. I prefer to let things… unfold organically." His eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness as he stood, stretching his long limbs in a casual yet eerily graceful motion. "Plans are useless against one such as him, wouldn't you say?"
"I suppose not," Alastor replied, his voice laced with a twisted amusement as he stood and made his way toward the window. His long fingers curled around the cane as he gazed out into the distance, the faintest flicker of something ancient and chaotic in his eyes. "You are not expected to survive, Montina. Your role is merely to put on an entertaining performance. We have… more pressing matters to attend to, but…"
Alastor turned back, his eerie grin never fading, "I shall be watching." Alastor's grin widened further, his unsettling, toothy smile never faltering. "I always do," he purred, the words hanging in the air like a sinister promise.
The Major's voice was calm, almost amused, as he responded, his posture still relaxed but predatory, like a lion awaiting the perfect moment to strike. "Enjoy the show. We certainly will."
With a final, lingering glance toward Alastor, Montina turned his attention toward the stage behind him. The atmosphere in the room thickened, charged with the promise of violence, madness, and chaos, as the Major prepared for the inevitable.
Alastor, unbothered, raised a gloved hand, as if dismissing the conversation entirely. "I shall," he said simply, before stepping back toward the shadows. "You amuse me, Montina. Make it worth my while."
And with that, he disappeared into the darkness of the room, the oppressive air shifting with his absence. Montina's smile didn't waver as he faced forward, his mind already calculating the next move, savoring the tension that hung in the air.
P.O.P.C - A Few Days Later
Back in Velmorra, Natsu lay sprawled on the soft grass of Amaris's palace garden, recovering from a grueling training session. The cool night air carried the faint hum of magic, and the stars above shimmered like scattered diamonds. The tranquil setting was a stark contrast to the intensity of his earlier exertions.
His head rested comfortably in Amaris's lap, the goddess absentmindedly running her fingers through his pink locks, a serene smile playing on her lips. Beside him, Erza nestled close, her long scarlet hair cascading over them like a silken curtain. Natsu's fingers idly twirled a strand of her hair, his touch gentle and unhurried.
"Tired?" Erza murmured, shifting slightly to press a soft kiss to his cheek before resting her head against his chest.
Natsu smirked. "Not really."
Erza chuckled softly. "You and your absurd stamina."
Amaris hummed in amusement, her fingers never pausing their soothing rhythm. "Funny, I don't recall you complaining last night—or this morning, for that matter—when you had your legs over Natsu's shoulders, dear."
Erza's cheeks flushed, but she quickly regained her composure, turning her head to meet the goddess's teasing gaze. "And you weren't exactly silent either," she countered, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Amaris's grin widened, her galaxy-eyes sparkling with mischief. "Me? Oh, I'm not complaining at all." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "In fact, I quite enjoy having you between my thighs."
Erza narrowed her eyes playfully. "Careful, goddess. Keep talking like that, and we might not let you leave the bed next time."
Amaris tilted her head, feigning deep contemplation. "Oh no, how ever will I survive such a cruel fate?"
"You'd enjoy it," Natsu interjected, his smirk mirroring Amaris's.
"Damn right I would," she shot back without hesitation, her gaze lingering on them with predatory delight. "Erza's sweet mouth, her soft, perfect curves—those thick, irresistible thighs and that divine ass—" She paused, her grin turning devilish. "And you, Natsu… that flawless body, those hands that always seem to know exactly what to do—oh, and let's not forget that Incubus cock of yours–"
She placed a hand on her cheek, her expression one of mock innocence as her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Truly, it would be Heaven—even for a goddess like me. A dream come true."
Natsu chuckled, shaking his head, while Erza let out a breathy laugh, rolling her eyes at Amaris's theatrics.
"You really are insatiable," Erza mused, poking Amaris lightly in the side.
Amaris grinned. "I prefer the term highly appreciative of the fine luxuries I have in my life."
Natsu sighed in amusement, pulling both women closer. "Well, if you two are done stroking my ego—and each other—how about we just enjoy this for now?"
"For now," Amaris teased, her fingers resuming their gentle rhythm through his hair. "But don't think for a second we're done with this conversation."
Erza smirked, resting her head against his chest, her voice soft but firm. "Not even close."
A comfortable silence fell on the trio, Amaris reached over and began to stroke Erza's hair too much to the RedHead delight, Natsu smiled at the scene, his Silver-Eyes warming at them.
"You've gotten much better with War's Wrath," Natsu remarked, his voice carrying a note of pride.
Erza nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It's still hard to sustain, but I'm improving. It's better than before."
Amaris chimed in, her tone both encouraging and instructive. "You'll need to use it in real fights to truly master it. That's where it shines—it's how I designed it to work."
Erza shifted slightly to gaze up at the sky of Velmorra, her expression thoughtful. "I figured as much. Still, it's using War's Wrath with my Dovahkiin Form that bothers me."
Amaris tilted her head, her galaxy-like eyes shimmering with wisdom. "The Dovahkiin Form thrives on rage and primal emotion, as does War's Wrath—only it requires control. You've had little experience with both in real fights, but even now, you're formidable. Just one real battle is all you need to master them." She smiled proudly, her voice softening. "And my Gift of Magic will ensure you succeed."
Erza returned the smile, her tone warm but teasing. "Sometimes, all our playful banter about our sex life with Natsu makes me forget that you can practically bend the rules of magic in our favor."
Natsu chuckled, his arms tightening around them both. "Don't I know it? Here I am, a demon of cosmic power, holding a goddess and a dragon in my arms, and talking about sex. Quite the life, eh?"
Amaris winked, her grin playful. "Yes, quite something."
Erza's expression turned serious as she shifted the topic. "Have you talked with Lucy?"
"I have," Amaris replied, her tone softening. "They're doing well, all things considered. Lucy says Raiden treats them decently—except for his habit of treating Wendy like an annoyed cat." The goddess giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Apparently, Wendy's dragon instincts are in full effect around him. She's furious about being abducted, livid about her power being restricted, and downright offended that Raiden doesn't take her seriously. Lucy shared a memory with me, and it's equal parts hilarious and adorable."
Her expression grew serious again, the playful glint in her eyes replaced by concern. "That said, Wendy's frustration puts her at odds with Raiden's true motives. Lucy isn't sure what he really wants. She hasn't uncovered anything else important yet. Raiden still keeps them at arm's length, but she thinks he'll start taking them around Ravenholt soon."
"And the necklaces?" Natsu interjected, his voice tense.
Amaris nodded, her gaze sharpening. "I've detected the obedience spell embedded in them, along with the one designed to brainwash them into serving the Empire. But the process is slow—painfully slow. It's almost as if something is holding it back."
Natsu's jaw tightened. "How much time do you think we have? Until they're fully brainwashed?"
"About three months," Amaris replied, her tone firm. "But we should find them long before that."
The goddess sighed, her expression thoughtful as she continued. "Lisanna is still working on it. I've already tried divination and location magic, but Ravenholt is heavily protected. The primordial magic surrounding it disrupts any attempt to pinpoint its location. By the time I could analyze the magic and break through, Ravenholt would have already moved." She paused, her galaxy-like eyes narrowing in frustration. "I've scanned the entire planet, but I can't find it from here. We'll have to locate it the old-fashioned way first. Once we're in proximity to where it physically exists, I can break its barriers."
Natsu's brow furrowed as he processed her words, his voice tinged with determination. "So, it's up to Lisanna and her team at HQ."
Amaris nodded, her expression serious. "While we're still on this subject, there's something else you should know. The curses we placed on Alvarez are weakening faster than we predicted. But that's not the most pressing issue." She paused, her galaxy-like eyes narrowing slightly. "I told you I detected Acnologia's presence when you were in Crocus. I've since tracked down the one who stopped him from coming to Ishgar."
Natsu's eyes widened. "Do you know who it was?"
She nodded, her voice steady. "My initial deduction was correct—it was a god. But he's also a dragon. Does the term 'Dragon Gods of Guiltina' ring a bell?"
Natsu furrowed his brow, his mind racing. "I think so… Wasn't the 100-Year Quest about that?"
Erza tilted her head, her expression curious. "It was?"
Natsu scratched the back of his head, recalling the memory. "Yeah, some time after we dealt with Bayle, Gildarts joined me and the others for a drink. He got so drunk he couldn't walk back to his house with his new prosthetics." A small smirk tugged at his lips. "While I made sure the old man didn't trip and accidentally blow up Magnolia, he started rambling. He said, 'Well, kid, if you managed to kill a primordial dragon that was in hell for eons… I guess if anyone's gonna take the 100-Year Quest, it'd be you.' I asked him about it, and he blabbered something about five Dragon Gods."
"I asked him about it the next day," Natsu continued, his tone tinged with frustration, "but he just said he wasn't allowed to talk about it." He crossed his arms, his expression darkening. "I tried looking for more info, but Guiltina was as much of a mystery to us as Alvarez—thanks to those bastards in the Magic Council blocking all outside information."
Amaris and Erza both rose from the grass, brushing off stray blades as they stood. "Well, I looked into that," Amaris began, her tone thoughtful. "After Acnologia's rampage 400 years ago, the few dragons that remained on Earthland fled to Guiltina. Over time, some of them grew so powerful that they began to be called Dragon Gods. But from what I've sensed, most of them aren't real gods—except for at least one. The one who faced Acnologia."
She continued, her voice steady. "There's a Water Dragon God, a Forest Dragon God, a Moon Dragon Goddess—Selene, I know that cheeky dragon. There's also a Gold Dragon God. There was supposed to be an Earth Dragon God, but some say he was killed a century ago. And lastly, the one who interests us most, The Fire Dragon God. But in reality, he's a Dragon of Destruction who is also half-god—a true Dragon God."
"Someone named Ignia," Amaris finished, her gaze locking onto Natsu.
Natsu's eyes widened. "Ignia? That name… it sounds like Igneel."
Amaris nodded. "Most likely, he's Igneel's son. Your father was known to have been with a goddess at some point."
Natsu chuckled, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face. "So I guess he wasn't just boasting after all."
Erza raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Care to let us in on the joke?"
Natsu grinned, his tone lighthearted. "When I was a kid, I called Igneel 'mateless' for some reason. He responded by loudly roaring about how he'd been with a goddess. Being a kid, I had no idea he meant sex, so I just shouted back that I will be with a goddess too." He shrugged, his smile widening. "Guess I kept my word."
Amaris smirked, her galaxy-like eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, this goddess is very pleased—every night."
Erza laughed and elbowed Amaris lightly. "Hey, save some for me too."
Natsu raised an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Plotting already?"
Amaris turned to look at him, her smile turning sly. "Yes~"
Natsu stepped closer, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "And what, specifically, are you planning, my dears?"
Erza tilted her head, her scarlet hair catching the starlight as she met his gaze. "We're gonna fuck you, dear."
Natsu closed the distance between them, his hand lightly lifting her chin as he kissed her. When he pulled back, his voice was a low whisper. "I'll be doing the fucking, my Love." His words made her cheeks flush, and he smirked, clearly pleased with himself.
Natsu glanced at Amaris, his grin widening. "See? Works like a charm, every time."
The goddess arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "I hope you're going to hold up your promise?"
Natsu winked, his tone dripping with confidence. "Come here and find out."
Amaris didn't need to be told twice. She stepped forward, her smile soft yet mischievous, and stole a kiss from him. Her lips lingered for a moment, leaving Natsu with a faint, satisfied grin.
Natsu gently wrapped his arms around their waists, pulling them into a warm embrace. "Come on, let's have dinner first… and then, well, some fun for today."
Erza raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smirk. "And tomorrow?"
Natsu's expression shifted, his grin turning thoughtful as he glanced toward the horizon. "Tomorrow… well, looks like I've got a trip to Guiltina now."
He looked back at them, his eyes glinting with mischief. "But tonight, you're all mine," he said, winking.
Erza bit her lower lip, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, while Amaris leaned into his neck, her laughter soft and melodic.
"It's funny when Amaris and I do it," Erza said, her voice teasing. "But when you do it… well, it's working very much."
Amaris giggled, her breath warm against his skin. "Then let's not waste any more time, Sugar! We've got a hunk to conquer."
Natsu laughed, his voice rich with amusement. "Now I'm a conquest? How fun."
