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What we're Natsu and Ignia talking about?
Chapter-27: Dragons
A flash of crimson light flared, and Natsu and Amaris appeared in front of a towering castle. The castle sat atop a jagged mountain, surrounded by smaller peaks. In the distance, the sea stretched out like a vast, endless mirror, while, on the other side, an enormous structure loomed over the mountains. It resembled something made of wood, an imposing presence that towered over the land.
"…Eh?" Natsu blinked, his eyes widening as he took in the sight.
"That's a big one," Amaris remarked.
"That's a FUCKING Dragon?" Natsu exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Gods damn, and I thought Igneel was a giant among dragons?"
"That—" began a feminine voice, and footsteps could be heard coming from the direction of the castle. "Is Aldoran, the Forest Dragon God."
The woman who spoke was a striking figure, her blonde hair flowing in soft waves and her pink eyes glowing like twin moons in the dim light. She was dressed in a flowing kimono and wore a large hat that added to her regal appearance.
One of the Dragon Gods of Guilitina
The Dragon who crosses Worlds
The Moon Dragon Goddess
Selene
Amaris's face lit up in recognition. "Selene!" she called out as she hurried toward the dragoness, enveloping her in a warm hug. "Oh, you cheeky dragon! A Moon Dragon Goddess now? Look at you!"
Selene laughed, a soft, melodic sound that echoed in the air. "As energetic as always, aren't you, Amaris?" They pulled apart, and Selene studied her with fondness. "How are you?"
Amaris grinned. "I'm all good. Just handling some things, you know how it is."
"I heard what happened with Bayle, how he managed to bind you to him. I would have helped had I known," Selene said, a note of concern in her voice.
Amaris waved it off, her expression light. "Ah, that old coot managed to use whatever power he regained from the first Great Demon War to summon and take my soul. Lucky for me, I ran into Natsu."
Selene turned her gaze toward Natsu, her smile warm. "Hello, Natsu."
Natsu nodded with a grin. "Dragon of the Moon," he greeted, the respect clear in his voice. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise, Dragon of the Stars," Selene replied, her gaze thoughtful as she appraised Natsu.
Natsu smiled, a hint of pride in his voice. "You recognize me as a Dragon?"
Selene's eyes glinted, "One who mastered the Dragon Arts to the point of creating his own brand of our Magic, past the point of Royal Dragon Magic no less, is deserving of being called a Dragon. A Seraphic Dragon Monarch, from what I know?"
Natsu's grin widened. "Yes, that's it," he confirmed with a nod. "And I'm not done. No limit to what we can do, right?"
Selene's smile softened, "Indeed. You and your magic are unique, Natsu. Few can claim such mastery over their dragon heritage."
Natsu nodded, "I take it Ignia is somewhere inside?"
Selene chuckled lightly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yes... he wanted a dramatic entrance. But he won't admit it."
Amaris laughed, her wings fluttering in delight. "Well, I think it's settled. You got your dramatic flair from Igneel, since Ignia shares it too!" she teased, her tone full of fondness.
Natsu grinned, the playful exchange bringing a lighthearted atmosphere to the group. "Guess it runs in the family, huh?" he said with a wink.
Selene shook her head with a soft chuckle. "Something like that."
"Well, I'll let you ladies catch up. I'll go have a talk with Ignia." Natsu said with a grin, taking a few steps before vanishing in a flash.
Selene raised an eyebrow, watching him disappear. "Hm, I assume he could sense Ignia and teleport to him?"
Amaris nodded, her expression relaxed but proud. "Yes, Natsu's sensory abilities are unmatched."
Selene glanced at her curiously. "Thanks to you?"
Amaris smiled, her eyes glinting with a touch of mischief. "Even without me, but yes, I did help with some of his magic. He's grown quite a lot, hasn't he?"
Selene's gaze lingered on the spot where Natsu had vanished, a knowing smile forming on her lips. "Indeed. I've seen beings grow strong in many ways, but few have achieved what he has."
Amaris laughed lightly, "You've got that right."
P.O.P.C
In a dark, dimly lit chamber, the only light flickered above a table at the center of the room. Two chairs sat on opposite ends, both unused—until suddenly, two figures teleported in, their presence filling the space.
"Sup, bitch."
"Sup, bitch."
Both voices echoed in perfect unison, a beat of confusion hanging in the air as they glared at each other from the shadows.
Silver eyes locked with golden eyes, their glares fierce and intense. "You fucking ruined my entrance," they both spat in perfect synchronization.
The room felt thick with tension, the absurdity of the situation amplifying the awkwardness. Neither moved, each standing perfectly still, as if daring the other to make the first move.
The man with silver eyes leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed, his voice dripping with annoyance. "I don't know who you think you are, but I was supposed to make the dramatic entrance here. You know, the whole mysterious vibe?"
The one with golden eyes raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. "Oh, please. You think you were the only one with a planned entrance? I had this whole room prepared for this!" he shot back, his tone dripping with mockery.
For a moment, they both stood in silence, the ridiculousness of the situation sinking in.
Finally, the man with silver eyes let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. "This is ridiculous."
"Yeah," the golden-eyed man muttered in agreement, the tension slowly dissipating.
A beat of silence passed.
The golden-eyed man finally spoke up, breaking the quiet. "Mind eating the Darkness? It was placed with a spell."
The silver-eyed man grinned, "Yeah, no problem." He opened his mouth wide and gulped down the surrounding darkness. In mere seconds, the room illuminated, the oppressive atmosphere lifting.
As the light filled the room, the two figures now stood face to face—Natsu and Ignia.
"Sooooo, Ignia?" Natsu asked, a grin tugging at his lips.
Ignia nodded. "And you're Natsu."
Natsu raised an eyebrow. "...You want to fight me or something?"
Ignia chuckled. "Nah, not right now."
A moment of silence passed before Ignia casually asked, "You like pizza?"
"I LOVE pizza," Natsu responded enthusiastically.
"Then sit down, brother. We've got lots to talk about," Ignia grinned, turning around. "Bring us some pizza!" he called out to a maid before turning back to Natsu. "What do you want on it?"
"Meat," Natsu said with a grin.
"Meat it is!" Ignia shouted to the maid. He gave a nod of thanks before taking a seat at the table.
"I saw your battle with Georg," Ignia remarked casually.
Natsu grinned. "You expect him to win?"
Ignia laughed, shaking his head. "Pff, no. He was strong, but not on this level."
Natsu leaned forward slightly. "So, you recognize me as a brother?"
Ignia gave a casual nod, his expression relaxed. "Dad took you in, raised you, gave you our magic, called you son. Yeah, we're brothers in my book." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Just to be clear, I don't have some plan to kill you or anything. I'd prefer if we could work together and get along."
Natsu smirked, a sense of relief washing over him. "Me too."
Just then, the maid entered, pushing a tray filled with boxes of pizza.
"Wow, that was fast," Natsu remarked, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food.
Ignia smirked. "It just so happens that meat pizza is my favorite, so I always keep some on hand." He looked at the maid and smiled, "Thanks, take a break."
The maid nodded and left, giving the two room to settle in. Ignia grabbed a slice of pizza, taking a bite with a satisfied grin.
"So," Natsu said between bites, "What's next?"
"We talk," Ignia replied, his tone more serious now. "I've known of you for a long time. But it wasn't until you killed Bayle that I realized you were back. I would've tried to find you and help unseal your demon power earlier if I'd known you were back on Earthland."
"Hm? Igneel spoke of me?" Natsu asked, raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious.
Ignia nodded. "Yeah, back when you were still little. I met up with Dad, and he spoke of you. I was busy at the time with something in a different realm, so by the time I came back to Earthland, you were already gone... and Zeref and Acnologia... killed Dad."
The weight of the words hung heavy in the air. Natsu's gaze softened slightly, though his face remained serious. "So, that's why you didn't take part in the battle?"
"Yeah.." Ignia responded, his tone now tinged with something darker. "I was caught up with things that kept me from Earthland. By the time I got back, it was too late." He looked at Natsu, his expression conflicted. "I fought Acnologia a few times, but the damn bastard is immensely powerful."
"I figured by your Magic Power you're on par with him," Natsu said, his voice steady. "I take it it's his Hax that are the problem?"
Ignia nodded, his expression grim. "Yeah, he started as a Black Dragon Slayer. I have no clue how he got his hands on Bayle's power, but he grew strong very fast, and he began rampaging across Earthland, killing Dragons, Humans, Demons—anything he could face."
"Bayle was a Darkness Dragon, just as Acnologia was originally. Yes, their Black Dragon Magic extended into some Demonic and Dark Magic, but not to the extent of what Acnologia's Magic is now."
Ignia's voice darkened further. "He began to devour Dragons—eating their flesh, drinking and bathing in their blood. And when he got his claws on Soul Magic, he began to take even their souls. His Magic evolved from Black Dragon Magic to what he calls Apocalypse Dragon Magic. It uses very old, nearly Primordial Raw Dragon Energy—Apocalyptic Energy, I call it. It's as if he's tapping into the most powerful Dragon Elements all at once." Ignia clenched his fists, frustration clear in his voice. "While his offense is overwhelming, his defense is the real problem."
"Having devoured the power of so many Dragons and other beings, his magical resistance is... immense, to say the least," Ignia continued, his tone heavy with the weight of experience. "He has the natural resistance to all Mortal Magic just from being a Dragon, and the resistance to specific elements from consuming dragons of every element."
Natsu's brow furrowed in thought. "So, the only Magics that work on him are either Primordial, something he hasn't consumed yet, something complex... and Holy and Divine Magic or very old Demon Magic? But that enters the Primordial Category."
Ignia nodded. "Exactly. For me to stand a chance, I have to push my Divine and Holy Attributes to the absolute limit, bring my Destruction Authority to its peak, and unleash my Flames of Destruction at their most intense. Only then can I match him."
He looked at Natsu with an intense gaze. "And even then, it's not enough to beat him. It's a stalemate at best."
"He's a beast, all right. And a problem," Natsu said, his voice heavy with realization. He glanced back at Ignia. "I was meaning to ask you. From what I know, you're the only Dragon here who's also a real God? Half Dragon, half God... who's your mother?"
Ignia smiled, a spark of pride in his eyes. "A Primordial Goddess called Celestia."
"Celestia... wait, the one who made the Celestial Spirit Realm?!" Natsu asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Yup, that one. I'm surprised you've heard of her?" Ignia raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
"Been to the Celestial Spirit Realm, and talked with the Celestial King," Natsu replied casually.
"Ah, you did? How's the old coot?" Ignia chuckled. "Haven't spoken to him in a few hundred years."
"He was all right. I've been there with a friend of mine who's a Celestial Spirit Mage. She's got nearly all the golden keys," Natsu replied with a shrug.
"Uhh, that hasn't happened in a long time. The last human who had all 12 of them was a woman called—" Ignia started.
"Anna Heartfilia," Natsu finished for him.
Ignia's expression softened with recognition. "You knew her?"
Natsu nodded. "Yeah, back before I got sent into the future. She was a friend of Igneel and Zeref. Don't know what happened to her, but I suppose she settled down at some point. The friend I've been with to the Celestial Spirit Realm is named Lucy Heartfilia, and she's almost a carbon copy of Anna. Same eyes, same face."
Ignia looked thoughtful. "That's interesting... she must be the descendant of Anna then."
Natsu nodded. "So, did you have any interaction with Zeref and his empire in the last 7 years?"
"Not a full-scale invasion, but he did come here once to threaten me," Ignia replied with a grim expression.
"…You know what power he stole from Fiore?" Natsu asked, his voice lowering.
Ignia shook his head. "No, not a clue. Do you?"
"…Yeah," Natsu said, his tone heavy. "It's... Igneel's Lacrima."
Ignia's eyes widened, and the fury within them flared. "What?" he growled, his voice filled with disbelief and rage.
"I don't know how it ended up there, but apparently, it was sealed in the first master of the guild I was a part of. In Fiore and Alvarez, they call it Lumine Histoire or Fairy Heart," Natsu explained, a dark frown crossing his face. "I used a spell to look into the past right when Zeref took it. I felt the energy... it was Igneel's magic. Not all of it, but a lot."
Ignia's expression twisted in anger and disbelief, the revelation sinking in with the weight of its implications. "Zeref… he stole Father's magic…"
He let out a slow breath, attempting to temper his fury. "I take it that's why you rushed to place those curses on Alvarez?"
"Part of it… Also killed one of his Spriggan, but that was personal, and I destroyed some of his military bases," Natsu admitted, exhaling deeply. "Igneel played a huge role in sealing the Demon Realm. A few weeks ago, when we attacked Alvarez's divisions on Ishgar, they kidnapped Lucy. She has a complete Celestial Ascendence, granted by the Celestial King. From the intel she managed to send back, they're trying to brainwash her into opening a gate to the Celestial Spirit Realm so they can harvest the Space-Time and Primordial Magic there—"
"To try and open the Demon Realm?" Ignia cut in, his expression darkening.
"Yeah."
"I'm guessing they need the Celestial Spirit Realm's magic because they can't get the Yamato?"
Natsu glanced at his katana before nodding. "You know what it is?"
Ignia nodded. "Yeah, Mom told me. Igneel did too, long before you were born."
"I still don't know how it ended up with me."
"Doesn't matter. It chose you and accepted you fully—it's yours now. Maybe it always was," Ignia said with certainty before shifting back to the matter at hand. "But even if the Celestial Spirit Realm has Space-Time and Primordial Magic, it's not enough. It's nowhere near Yamato's capabilities."
"They believe Zeref and Cain can enhance that magic to the level they need," Natsu explained. "Cain most likely has some Primordial Magic of his own."
Ignia scoffed. "Hmph. The seal on the Demon Realm would have broken on its own eventually, but they're trying to speed it up? There has to be more to this. Sure, they're strong, but if they open the Demon Realm completely…?"
"We think they want to control how much it opens and where, so they don't have to deal with Primordial Monsters the size of moons right away," Natsu said grimly.
Ignia clicked his tongue. "Tch. Gonna be a lot of chaos."
"It will be," Natsu agreed.
"So," Ignia began, leaning forward slightly. "What's your take on this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you fight it?" Ignia asked, watching him closely. "To save Earthland? To protect humans? To stop the Demon Realm?"
Natsu didn't hesitate. "I fight to win."
Silence stretched between them for a moment. Ignia studied him, searching his face for any hesitation, any doubt—but there was none. Then, slowly, a grin broke across his face, one mirrored by Natsu.
"You and I will be great friends—no, brothers."
"I don't doubt it."
Ignia chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Good. Because from here on out, things are only going to get crazier."
Natsu smirked. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
The tension that had lingered before was gone, replaced by an unspoken understanding—one forged not just by blood but by shared purpose.
P.O.P.C
Raiden paced through the grand halls of the palace, arms folded, the fifteen minutes he had granted the girls still ticking down.
"How does Erza put up with that brat?" he mused, shaking his head. He knew Wendy was doing this out of pure defiance, her own way of resisting Alvarez—and, more specifically, him.
He let out a tired sigh, but his moment of contemplation was soon interrupted by a sickly sweet voice from behind.
"Something on your mind, oh great Dragon Lord?" came the taunting lilt.
Raiden exhaled sharply. He didn't even need to turn around. "Of course, it's her."
"What do you want, Sorano?"
"My, my, how rude," she pouted, stepping beside him with an amused smirk. "I was just passing by. You look exhausted."
"I am. Little girls are annoying."
"Ah, the Sky Maiden—Wendy, right?"
"Yes."
"Why bother keeping her around? We don't need her. Just kill her."
Raiden's muscles tensed, his eyes narrowing.
"She's a First Generation Dragon Slayer, her power granted by one of the Great Dragons. That alone makes her as valuable to the empire as Sting and Rogue once were."
"Value?" Sorano scoffed, tossing her hair back. "Please. Rogue's dead, and Sting got his ass handed to him."
"They were fighting powerful opponents,"
"Exactly. No one expected them to win. So why even let them fight?" She passed by him, tilting her head with a smirk. "You're not as important as you think, Dragon Slayer~" she whispered mockingly. "The others were disposed of. Sting might still have some use, but you?" Her grin widened. "I wonder~?"
Raiden moved before she could react.
In a flash, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back, slamming her against the wall with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. His other hand closed around her throat, fingers pressing just enough to make his point. His piercing gaze bore down into hers, Storm-grey irises ablaze with warning.
"Do not forget who you're speaking to, demon," he growled, voice dangerously low. He leaned in, his grip tightening. "I am not part of your division. I do not work for you. I do not take orders from you."
Her smirk faltered ever so slightly.
"I work with Cain, not for Cain," he continued. "I take orders from the Spriggan—not from you."
He inhaled slowly, voice laced with venom.
"Threaten me again, and I will kill you."
His lips curled into a sneer. "Value?" He scoffed, pressing her harder against the wall. "You think a human-turned-demon outranks me? That you're better than me?" He chuckled darkly. "You're nothing but a succubus. A pathetic little demon whore."
His grip flexed around her throat, just for a second.
"What, hoping the last man whose dick you sucked will protect you?"
The air between them grew charged, thick with danger. Raiden held his glare a moment longer before finally releasing her, stepping back as if she were beneath his notice.
Sorano coughed, rubbing her throat, but her smirk was still there—if only a little weaker than before.
Raiden turned his back, his posture rigid and tense as he walked away from Sorano, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall. He could feel her eyes boring into his back, but he refused to look at her again. There was nothing she could say now to provoke him further.
Sorano, still rubbing her throat, took a few seconds to collect herself before a low chuckle escaped her lips. "You're as much a bastard as I remember," she muttered, though it lacked the usual venom.
Raiden paused, his voice cold and cutting. "Do not mistake me for someone who gives a damn about your games, Sorano. I'll end you before you even have the chance to cross me again."
Her smirk shifted, becoming more contemplative, though still filled with a dangerous edge. "How rude. I thought you enjoyed fucking me?"
Raiden scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "That's all you're good for." He shot her a look of contempt. "Down on your knees."
He turned and walked away, the finality of his words leaving a sharp silence in the air.
Sorano's eyes blazed with fury, but she held herself back. Her fists clenched, but her lips curled into a sinister grin as she watched him leave. There was a calmness in her anger, a knowledge that it wasn't the right moment to retaliate.
"Enjoy it while you can," she muttered under her breath, her gaze seething with quiet fury. "But I'll be the one who gets the last laugh."
Raiden's back was turned, and he didn't flinch. His steps were steady, purposeful. The tension between them crackled, but he didn't let it slow him down.
Under his breath, Raiden murmured to himself, "A Dragon King is not easily shackled by anyone. You will all remember that... even you, Cain."
The words hung in the air, a quiet storm building, ready to unleash when the time was right.
P.O.P.C
Raiden unlocked the door to the apartment and stepped into the living room, his eyes scanning the space.
"You're late!" Wendy's voice rang out, her arms crossed on the couch as she shot him an accusing glare. Lucy was already dressed and waiting, sitting beside her.
Raiden paused in the doorway and smirked. "You're late!" he mocked, mimicking her voice in a high-pitched tone. "Get over it. Now out, grass, you, go touch it."
"Hmpf," Wendy huffed, standing up and walking out of the room. As she stepped outside, she immediately looked around, trying to take in her surroundings.
Raiden leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "Don't think about running again," he sighed. "You'll get lost before you can find an exit."
Lucy followed behind, offering a quiet chuckle as she stepped outside. "Wendy, be nice."
Wendy shot a glance at Lucy and then back at Raiden. "Fine."
Raiden rolled his eyes, turning his attention to Lucy. With a smirk, he extended his arm toward her in an exaggerated, fake display of politeness. "Shall we?"
Lucy returned his smile, though there was a playful glint in her eyes. "We shall… fiancée."
Wendy scoffed at the comment but said nothing more, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, her eyes narrowed as she watched the two of them.
Raiden sighed heavily, pushing himself off the doorframe and leading the way. They made their way out of the palace and onto the Main Island of Ravenholt. It was daylight outside, and clouds could be seen far below the island, floating like islands in the sky.
"Wow," Wendy breathed out, her eyes wide as she took in the view. "The air is so clear up here!"
Raiden glanced back at her, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "You'd have realized that sooner if you'd opened that damn window in your room."
Wendy shot him a glance. "You mean prison cell?"
Raiden smirked darkly, his gaze narrowing. "I can get you one if you wish."
Lucy sighed, rolling her eyes. "At this point, both of you secretly enjoy this."
"Me? Enjoy this?" Wendy shot back with exaggerated drama. "Enjoy talking to him? Nooooo, he's boring! He's not fun and nice like Natsu! He's mean and grumpy!"
Raiden's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I begrudgingly find myself agreeing with the hellspawn. I can't deal with such... ugly children."
His lips twitched into a smirk as he watched Wendy fume. "Ugly? UGLY? ME? HOW DARE YOU!" Wendy's face flushed crimson, her hands clenched into fists as she glared at him, her body shaking with indignation. "Asshole!"
Lucy gasped, her eyes wide with shock. "Wendy! You can't talk like that!"
Raiden raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by her outburst. He straightened up, his voice cool and condescending. "You're lucky you're not locked up in that 'prison cell' you keep complaining about," he said, his tone almost bored. "I'd have you scrub the floors for calling me that."
Wendy's eyes widened, but she quickly recovered, puffing out her chest in defiance. "I don't care! You're just a big, ugly jerk!"
Raiden chuckled dryly, his expression bored but tinged with an underlying amusement. "Keep it up. You're not half as clever as you think, kid."
Lucy sighed, rubbing her temples in an attempt to calm the brewing tension. "Alright, enough. Can we make it through the day without any more arguments?" She shot Raiden a pointed look, but he merely grinned, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.
Lucy gently nudged Wendy forward, guiding her to walk ahead of Raiden. "Come on, I see a nice garden up ahead. Let's go check it out."
Wendy shot a glare over her shoulder at Raiden, her expression a mix of frustration and mischief. Raiden smirked in return, sticking out his tongue. Wendy's eye twitched, and when Lucy wasn't looking, she quickly raised her hand, giving Raiden the middle finger.
Raiden's gaze sharpened, and he muttered under his breath, "This brat…"
"Raiden, keep up!" Lucy called without turning back. "We don't know the way."
Wendy grinned at him, sticking her own tongue out as a parting gesture of defiance.
Raiden took a deep breath, his tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement. "I'm coming," he muttered, shaking his head as he reluctantly followed them.
Lucy settled onto a bench facing the garden, and Raiden caught up with her. Wendy once again shot him a glare, her mocking smile still in place.
"Well?" Raiden raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What are you waiting for? Go on, run. There's a swing or two somewhere here."
"What am I, 11?" Wendy scoffed.
"You're 13," Lucy deadpanned, cutting in before Raiden could respond.
Raiden threw his head back, his dark blue hair cascading down his back as he grumbled, "You, Grass. Go touch it. Now." His tone was blunt and commanding.
Wendy glared at him, but the gem in her heart-shaped necklace glowed faintly, and reluctantly, she obeyed, turning and walking toward the garden.
"And enjoy it," Raiden added sarcastically.
Lucy sighed, her frown deepening. "Did you really have to use that on her?"
Raiden didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned against the bench, his arms crossed as he watched Wendy walk away. After a beat, he spoke, his voice quieter but still firm. "She wouldn't have left us alone otherwise."
Lucy watched Raiden for a long moment before her voice softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Of course not. She's young and scared, Raiden. She's afraid of what might happen—what you might do to me, or what could happen tomorrow. She's not a warrior, not a full-fledged Dragon Slayer. She still hides behind Erza. She's terrified of you. Terrified of what you're capable of."
Raiden remained silent, but Lucy pressed on, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. "She is a child, Raiden. Yes, she's the child of a Dragon, but she's still a child. And now, she finds herself in the clutches of an Empire that shattered the world she knew, one that is ruthlessly trying to kill Natsu—who's like a big brother to her. Maybe even a father figure. She acts tough, mean, spoiled with you, but at night, when the darkness settles, she's crying. She just wants to go home, Raiden. Back to Natsu, Erza, Amaris, and the others. Not here, where survival is a fragile hope."
Raiden's eyes flickered with something unreadable, but Lucy didn't back down. Her words were like daggers, each one piercing deeper into the truth she had come to accept.
"She's scared, Raiden. She's terrified. And you—you're a constant reminder of that fear. You may think you're in control, that you've broken me into submission, but what about her? What happens when she becomes nothing more than another pawn in your game? Do you dispose of her too, when she's of no use to you anymore? Do you dispose of both of us?" Lucy's voice cracked, though she held her gaze steady.
Raiden stared at her, his expression unreadable, and the silence between them grew thick and suffocating. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but cold, laced with finality. "You are useful to the Empire, Lucy." His words hung in the air like an unspoken judgment, heavy and unyielding.
Lucy's eyes narrowed, her voice low but fierce as she responded. "You made that perfectly clear. You need me, and you took her for your own amusement. She's terrified of that, Raiden. You have a reason to keep me alive, but her? Once my mind is broken, you could just order me to kill her myself, couldn't you? And she knows it." Her words were sharp, the weight of them cutting through the air between them.
Raiden remained silent, his gaze unwavering. For a moment, it seemed as though he might speak, but no words came out. His lips parted briefly, as if struggling with something. "I… do not take pleasure in this fear," he finally murmured, his voice a touch softer, though still holding a harsh edge.
Lucy's eyes softened, though she didn't let her guard down. "Then why do it? Why did you take her?"
A thought flickered in Raiden's mind, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed to hesitate. "So that it may come here sooner–" but then cleared his mind, as if unwilling to continue that line of thought.
He shifted, his expression hardening once more. "She is a First Generation Dragon Slayer, trained by one of the Old Great Dragons. She has value. She can bring strength to Alvarez." He spoke with a certain finality, but there was something behind his words—a flicker of doubt.
Lucy's gaze was steady, unwavering. "So… you wish her to become the same as you?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with sadness. "To become just another weapon of the Empire?"
Raiden's jaw tightened at her words, his expression unreadable. He turned his gaze away, staring into the distance as if the answer lay somewhere beyond the horizon. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, in a quiet but firm voice, he responded, "She has potential. If she embraced it, she wouldn't have to be weak. She wouldn't have to be afraid."
Lucy shook her head, a bitter smile forming on her lips. "Would she? Would she be strong while serving another? Do you feel strong when you serve? When you are a weapon?"
Raiden's gaze hardened, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes as Lucy's words sank in. He shifted his weight, leaning his elbows on his knees, his eyes drifting down to the grass beneath him. After a long pause, he murmured, his voice softer than before, "The Empire... is not easy to escape."
Lucy crouched down beside him, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes, her voice gentle but firm. "Not easy... doesn't mean impossible." Her words were a quiet challenge, a spark of hope that pierced through the darkness in his heart.
Raiden didn't respond immediately. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might push her away, but instead, he just stared ahead, his mind clearly wrestling with the weight of her words.
Raiden's fingers curled into his palms, his knuckles white as he stared at the ground. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if weighing the weight of her words.
"You speak as if you understand," he muttered, his voice low. "As if you've seen what happens to those who try."
Lucy didn't flinch. "I don't have to see it to know," she said firmly. "You're still here, aren't you? Still breathing. That means you haven't given up completely."
His dark blue hair fell over his eyes as he let out a humorless chuckle. "You're more stubborn than I gave you credit for."
Lucy's expression softened. "Maybe. But so are you."
Raiden exhaled, tilting his head slightly toward her, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, something in his gaze softened—something almost human, almost hesitant.
But then, just as quickly, the wall came back up. He pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his coat as if shaking away the conversation itself. "Enough," he said, voice cool again. "You're wasting your breath."
Lucy straightened, watching him carefully. "Maybe. Or maybe, you're just scared to listen."
He paused for just a fraction of a second before turning away, walking toward the garden where Wendy had disappeared.
Lucy watched him go, the tiniest flicker of hope settling in her chest. Maybe—just maybe—she had gotten through to him.
P.O.P.C
A few minutes later, Wendy emerged from the garden, her arms full of flowers. Her expression was a mix of excitement and mild frustration.
"What do you have there, Wendy?" Lucy asked with a curious smile.
"I—uhh—I got bored, so I thought I'd make a flower crown… but I don't know how," Wendy admitted, glancing down at the assortment of blooms in her hands. "Amaris just makes them with magic."
Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. "No worries, I know how to," she said warmly, patting the bench beside her. "Come sit. I had a garden like this when I was little."
Wendy hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to Lucy, watching as she gently took the flowers from her hands and began weaving them together with practiced ease.
"Lucy…" Wendy began hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"…How… how do you put up with Raiden?"
Lucy paused for a moment, her hands stilling as she looked down at the flowers in her lap. She let out a small, resigned sigh before looking at Wendy.
"It's not easy," she admitted softly, her tone thoughtful. "Raiden… he's not someone who's easily understood. He can be harsh, cold, and a little terrifying at times. But I think, deep down, there's more to him than just what he shows on the outside."
She picked up the flowers again, her fingers weaving them together with more focus.
"It's like… he's trapped in this cycle, Wendy. He's been shaped by everything around him, and I think part of him wants to be free of it. But he's afraid, afraid of showing weakness or being vulnerable. That's the part of him I try to understand."
Wendy watched her, eyes filled with curiosity and something softer, like a flicker of hope.
"I don't know if that helps," Lucy continued, glancing at Wendy, "but I try not to judge him by the way he acts on the surface. I think there's more to him, even if it's buried deep down."
Wendy stayed silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on Lucy as she processed her words. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, though it was mixed with uncertainty.
"I never thought about it like that," Wendy murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I guess I've just been... scared of him, of what he might do. He doesn't exactly make it easy to trust him."
Lucy nodded, her fingers still deftly working with the flowers. "Trust is hard when someone doesn't show their true self. But sometimes, understanding them… seeing past the fear, the anger, the coldness… that's when you start to understand who they really are." She finished the crown and placed it gently on Wendy's head. "I think….Raiden is a lot like Natsu…they are both powerful and prideful, terrifyingly smart when they want to be…"
"But underneath all that, there's a vulnerability they hide," Lucy continued, her voice soft as she adjusted the flower crown on Wendy's head. "Raiden, like Natsu, carries a lot of weight on his shoulders. Both of them have been shaped by their pasts, but while Natsu had the freedom to take his fate into his own hands ... Raiden did not."
Wendy tilted her head slightly, taking in Lucy's words. "So, you think Raiden didn't choose this path for himself?" she asked, her voice quiet but full of curiosity.
Lucy's expression softened as she continued, her gaze drifting to the distance, as if thinking about the complexities of Raiden's journey. "Exactly. Raiden didn't have the luxury of making a choice, at least not in the way Natsu did. His life, his power... it was molded by forces beyond his control, forces that shaped him into what he is today. He was forced to carry burdens, bear responsibility for things he didn't ask for. And in that, he lost his chance at freedom."
She looked back at Wendy, her eyes intense with understanding. "Natsu had the chance to choose his path, to build his own family, to embrace who he wanted to become. Raiden? He was shaped by what the world made him into, and that's not an easy thing to escape from."
Wendy nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. "So, you think that's why he's so cold? Because he never had a choice?"
"Yes," Lucy said, her tone quiet yet firm. "Raiden's coldness is a defense. He doesn't know how to trust anyone, because no one ever gave him the chance to choose trust. He keeps people at arm's length to protect himself from what he fears the most—vulnerability."
Wendy sat in silence for a moment, processing Lucy's words. It was a lot to take in, especially about someone like Raiden, who always seemed so unapproachable, so untouchable.
"Do you think," Wendy began hesitantly, "that he'll ever let anyone get close to him? Let someone in?"
Lucy looked down at the flower crown in her hands, turning it slightly as she thought. "I think… it's possible. But it'll take time. He's built this wall around himself for so long that even the smallest crack might seem too much for him to handle. But, sometimes, the smallest gesture can make a difference. Maybe one day, someone will show him that it's okay to let his guard down."
Wendy frowned thoughtfully. "Do you think he'll ever change? I mean, for real?"
Lucy let out a quiet breath, her gaze drifting toward the garden, "Change is complicated. People don't change overnight, not without wanting to. But I believe Raiden has the capacity for it. He's just... lost right now."
Wendy glanced up at the sky, her expression softening. "Lost..." She looked down at her lap, her frown deepening. "I miss home. I miss Amaris," she whispered, pulling her legs up onto the bench and hugging her knees to her chest. "I miss Natsu and Erza."
Lucy's gaze softened as she watched Wendy, her heart aching for the younger girl. She gently moved closer and hugged her, kissing her head. "I know, Wendy. I miss them too."
Wendy sniffed, her voice tremulous. "Do you think something happened to them?"
"No. They are strong, they all are. You'll see. Natsu, Gray, Gajeel, Erza... they'll come here. And we'll go home."
Wendy sniffed again, a mixture of sadness and hope clouding her eyes. She clung to Lucy, the warmth of her embrace offering a small sense of comfort amidst the uncertainty. "I want to believe that... I really do."
Lucy tightened her hug, brushing a hand through Wendy's hair. "I believe it with everything I have. They're fighters, Wendy. And they won't stop until they find us. You're not alone in this, not now, not ever."
Wendy let out a shaky breath, a small nod slipping from her lips as the weight of Lucy's words settled in her heart. "You're right. We'll make it. I just… I just need to keep believing in them, don't I?"
"Exactly," Lucy whispered. "What would Natsu and Erza want you to do?"
"Bite and claw?" Wendy joked, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Lucy giggled. "To be smart, Wendy. They'd want you to be smart about all of this."
P.O.P.C
Raiden walked the halls of the deeper, more secure part of the palace. He opened a large, dark door and entered the room, the dim light barely illuminating the space. In the center, a massive tank of water stood, with Sting submerged halfway inside it. Though unconscious, Sting radiated an immense power—more than he had ever possessed.
Raiden took a step forward, his eyes focused on the motionless figure in the tank.
"You feel it yourself, don't you?" came a voice from behind him. "The raw power? The sheer depth of magic he now possesses? It's astonishing."
Raiden turned to find Cain seated on a chair, observing him closely. Raiden's gaze shifted back to Sting, his expression unreadable.
"You gave him the easy way up," Raiden remarked, his voice cold.
Cain's lips curled into a thin, knowing smile. "I made him better. Unstoppable."
Raiden's eyes narrowed. "You are quick to dismiss earned power. That blood in his veins will not make him invincible."
Cain raised an eyebrow, his tone calm, "It's not just about the blood, Raiden. It's about what he does with it. Power, when properly harnessed, becomes something far greater than mere strength."
Raiden turned, his gaze sharp. "Strength," he said coldly, "True power … is forged on the battlefield, not in a lab. If Sting fails when it matters, all the experiments and enhancements are meaningless."
Cain's smile remained, "You underestimate the importance of preparation, Raiden," he said, his voice unwavering. "True power is not only about raw strength. It's about control, precision, and knowing when to strike. That's the foundation I'm building for him."
Raiden's expression darkened, his words deliberate and cutting. "Real experience trumps theory every time, Cain. If Sting is to rival Natsu, it will be on his own merit, not through the crutches of lab-made power."
Cain chuckled lightly, unfazed by Raiden's tone. "Of course, of course. But first, he needed the right tools."
Raiden scoffed, his steps echoing as he walked toward the door. "Tools don't make the warrior," he muttered.
Cain's voice followed him, laced with a subtle challenge. "You're taking an awful long time to break the Celestial Wizard and the Dragon Slayer, aren't you?"
Raiden didn't pause or look back, his words sharp as steel. "The lacrimas are embedded in the necklaces they wear day and night. The spell is working."
"But it's slow... too slow... I wonder why that is?" Cain's voice trailed off, a hint of amusement in it.
Raiden's voice hardened, his tone mocking. "Keep wondering. Perhaps you'll remember that they have a Goddess of Magic and Dreams on their side. One who can conjure mental defenses so powerful that neither you nor Zeref could even enter Natsu's mind. So, why would you think the Goddess didn't set similar defenses for the others?"
Cain paused, the amusement slipping from his expression. "Touche."
Raiden turned, his gaze cold. "The lacrima are working. It will take a few more days. They'll break, in time."
Cain's smile returned, though it was tinged with something darker. "We'll see. Time has a way of surprising us."
P.O.P.C - A few hours Later
Yukino made her way to the apartment assigned to her in Ravenholt—a place she was meant to share with Sting. Ever since his last conversation with Cain, he had vanished, leaving her with nothing but silence and vague assurances that he was training. But training for what? And why did it feel like something was terribly wrong?
She unlocked the door and stepped inside. The air was heavy, charged with something she couldn't name. Sorano wasn't there. A sigh slipped past Yukino's lips as she headed for the bathroom, peeling away her clothes as she went. She just needed a moment. A moment to breathe. A moment to think.
But just as she stepped into the shower, she heard it.
The door closing.
Ten minutes later, steam clung to her skin as she emerged from the bathroom, a soft robe draped over her.
"Sorano? I heard the door?" she called out before she saw him.
Sting.
Sitting on the couch, sprawled back like he owned the space, but something was wrong.
He looked the same.
And yet, he wasn't.
His blue eyes, always warm and filled with quiet confidence, now burned with something else—something raw, something dangerous. There was no easy smirk, no teasing lilt in his expression. Just hunger. Just fire.
"Yukino." His voice was low, sharper than before.
She gasped, her heart leaping as she rushed to him. "Sting! Where have you been? Are you—are you okay?"
His gaze locked onto hers, unblinking, intense. "I'm better than okay."
Her fingers trembled as she cupped his face. "You feel… different."
Sting caught her wrist before she could move away, his grip ironclad. "I am different." The words were almost a snarl. "Weakness is dead. I made sure of it."
The air in the room shifted. Her stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he yanked her forward, pulling her onto his lap, "I'm done losing." His fingers dug into her waist, his hold far rougher than before.
Yukino stiffened. "Sting, you're hurting me."
His grip didn't loosen. His jaw clenched, his breathing heavy against her skin. "I lost," he said, ignoring her plea, "I won't lose again," his hand trailed down her leg.
"What did you do?" she asked.
His eyes darkened, the usual playful glint replaced with something heavier—something dangerous. "What was necessary," he repeated, but this time there was an edge of bitterness in his voice.
Her heart pounded. "Sting, listen to me. You were never—"
"Don't." His voice cut through the room like a blade. "Don't say it. Don't try to tell me I was strong enough. Because if I was—" His hand shot up, tangling in her damp hair, tilting her head back so she had no choice but to meet his burning gaze. "—we wouldn't be here."
A shudder ran down her spine. His touch wasn't cruel, but it was commanding. Possessive.
"Look at me, Yukino." His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "Do I look weak to you?"
She swallowed hard, her lips parting, but no words came.
"Exactly." His grip loosened, fingers trailing down her arm before stopping at her wrist. His thumb brushed over her pulse, feeling it race beneath his touch. "They wanted me to be something more." His expression darkened. "So I became it."
Yukino's breath caught in her throat. "Who's 'they'?"
Sting smirked, but it was humorless. Cold. "What does it matter? This is what I am now."
Her hand found his chest, pressing against it—not gently, but firmly. Trying to create some space between them. "You don't have to be this," she whispered.
For a second, his grip on her wrist faltered.
Then, his eyes flashed, and his grip tightened once more. "I chose this."
Yukino's heart pounded violently against her ribs as she stared at the man before her.
This wasn't just training. Something had happened to him.
Before she could find her voice, Sting pulled her down into a kiss, his other hand trailing down her leg.
"Sti—" she tried to protest, but he didn't stop. His lips pressed harder against hers, his hold unyielding. Panic surged through her, and she pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.
"Don't," she breathed, her voice firm despite the tremor in it.
But he ignored her, his hand already pulling her back in. This time, she yanked herself free and staggered to her feet.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Silence hung thick between them.
Sting looked up at her, his lips slightly parted, his expression unreadable. For the first time, Yukino saw something flicker in his eyes—hesitation? Anger? Pain?
He rose to his feet, stepping toward her, but she didn't back down. She glared at him, standing her ground, yet beneath her defiance, fear coiled in her stomach.
He held her gaze for a long, tense moment. Then, with a low, guttural growl, he turned and stormed out of the apartment without another word.
P.O.P.C
Sting stormed down the corridors of the Palace, his boots echoing with each determined step. He was headed back to the lab, to the training room Cain had crafted for him.
With a forceful swing, he slammed open the door. His gaze immediately fell upon the water tank, the very same one where he had awoken just hours ago. He scoffed, frustration bubbling up inside him, and quickly turned away. He needed to focus, to work. The training room awaited.
From the shadows, a voice resonated, low and commanding, "What has befallen you youngling?"
Sting froze, his eyes narrowing as a massive figure emerged from the darkness.
The figure towered above him, easily standing at 12'3 feet tall. His muscular frame was sculpted for battle, honed through centuries of relentless conflict. His skin was a deep, molten red, like the heart of a volcano, and every inch of his body bore the scars of countless wars—each mark a testament to a victory, a battle fought to the bitter end.
His eyes were jet black, but they gleamed with a haunting crimson light, flickering like the flames of a battlefield. His long, ink-black hair flowed like a river of shadow, streaked with silver as if it were a battle flag worn with pride.
Adorning his body was ornate armor, forged in the heart of the Demon Realm's forges. Dark iron plates, engraved with ancient runes that pulsed with an ethereal, warlike energy, encased his frame.
Herald of Conflict
Demon of War and Conquest
A Demon of Battle
Azazel
Sting's eyes narrowed, his voice sharp and defensive. "Azazel," he said, his tone clipped. "It's none of your concern."
Azazel's deep, rumbling laugh filled the room, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the very walls. "Is it not?" he countered, his crimson gaze piercing through Sting. "You return here, after demanding to be released, your spirit aflame with turmoil. Tell me, youngling, does your lady not approve of your newfound strength?"
Sting's jaw tightened, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. "She doesn't understand," he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "And it doesn't matter. I'm here to train. That's all."
Azazel tilted his head, his expression unreadable but his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. "Aye, she does not understand," he said, his tone almost mocking. "But worry not, lad. In time, she will come to see the necessity of your choices. And if she does not…" He paused, his lips curling into a faint, almost predatory smile. "There are others. The world is vast, and power such as yours will draw many to your side."
Sting's chest tightened, a flicker of anger and something else—something deeper, more conflicted—flaring within him. He wanted to retort, to defend Yukino, to shout that she was more than just another face in the crowd. But the words caught in his throat. A part of him, a dark, insidious part, agreed with Azazel. Power was what mattered. Strength was what would keep him from losing again.
Azazel turned, his massive frame moving with a grace that belied his size, and began walking toward the training room. "Come, youngling," he said, his voice carrying the weight of command. "If it is training you seek, then let us begin. The path of conquest is not for the faint of heart."
Sting hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the water tank one last time. Then, with a sharp exhale, he followed Azazel, his steps firm and resolute. The doubts, the guilt, the lingering ache in his chest—he pushed them all aside. For now, there was only the fight. And in the fight, he would find his purpose.
P.O.P.C
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery glow across the skies of Guilitina. The winds howled fiercely, whipping around the high cliff where Ignia and Natsu stood, their silhouettes stark against the fading light. The air was thick with tension, the kind that precedes a storm—or a revelation.
Ignia sat on a jagged rock, his elbows resting on his knees, his forehead pressed against his palms. His golden eyes were distant, lost in thought, as if the weight of centuries had suddenly caught up to him. Natsu, on the other hand, stood tall, his silver eyes fixed on the horizon, where the last remnants of daylight clung to the edge of the world.
For a long moment, the only sound was the wind. Then, Ignia opened his mouth, but no words came out. He exhaled sharply, a sound that was almost a laugh, and threw his head back, his gaze lifting to the stars that were beginning to dot the darkening sky.
"Heh," he chuckled softly, the sound low and disbelieving. "Heh heh…" Slowly, his chuckle grew, building into a full, deranged laugh that echoed across the cliffside. "HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
He dragged his hands down his face, his laughter subsiding into a series of breathless, incredulous chuckles. "You know…" he began, his voice tinged with both amusement and disbelief, "I'm over 500 years old. I've fought and killed gods. I've faced abominations from other worlds. I've seen things that would make most mortals lose their minds. And yet…" He paused, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and madness. "I don't think I've ever been left so… speechless."
Natsu turned to look at him, his silver eyes gleaming with quiet interest. He didn't interrupt, letting Ignia's words hang in the air like the fading echoes of his laughter.
Ignia's grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "Such a plan…" he said, his voice low and almost reverent. "This would completely change the course of the war. The True Dragon King Festival… everything. It's madness. Brilliant, but madness."
"I'm aware," Natsu replied, his tone calm but firm.
Ignia's grin turned feral, his draconic features sharpening as his excitement grew. "It'll be chaos," he said, his voice rising with anticipation. "Absolute, glorious chaos."
"Most likely," Natsu agreed, his lips curling into a faint smirk.
Ignia's golden eyes locked onto Natsu's silver ones, the intensity between them palpable. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, Ignia pushed himself to his feet, his movements smooth and deliberate. He stepped closer to Natsu, stopping just a few feet away, and extended his hand.
"I would like to formally apologize," he said, his grin widening as his voice carried a rare note of sincerity. "I never imagined something like this. I underestimated you, Natsu. And for that, I am sorry."
Natsu looked at the offered hand, then back at Ignia. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Without hesitation, he reached out and clasped Ignia's hand firmly. "Apology accepted," he said, his voice carrying a quiet confidence.
Ignia's grip was strong, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of respect and disbelief. "I knew you were going to change things," he admitted, his tone tinged with awe. "But this? It's unreal… I didn't even feel it until now. And to think it's spread so far…"
Natsu nodded, his silver eyes reflecting the faint glow of the stars. "It shocked me too when I found it," he said. "But now it makes sense. Was this his plan? To get back his power? Over Seven years of growing and spreading… and with an intercontinental war on the planet, it's the perfect catalyst."
Ignia's expression darkened, his draconic features sharpening. "It will be of a scale not seen in eons," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "The only things that could potentially be stronger than it would be the first if its existence."
Natsu's gaze hardened. "Are the Dragon Gods all working together?"
Ignia shook his head, his golden eyes narrowing. "Selene and I are aligned. Mercphobia mostly minds his own business. Dogramag is still in the process of resurrection, and Aldoran isn't fully awake yet. But both are tied to the planet, using it to heal. Considering Dogramag is an Earth Dragon and Aldoran has his roots spread across this continent, I think they're both aware of it having grown."
Natsu frowned, his brow furrowing. "Do you think they could have been drawing power from it?"
Ignia's expression grew thoughtful. "No, I'd have felt that. But it could have helped them resurrect faster. I'll have to check on them. And then there's Viernes…" His voice trailed off, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "We're nowhere near speaking terms. He's unpredictable, and if he senses it, he'll definitely try something."
Natsu crossed his arms, "So, Selene and you are in. Dogramag, Aldoran, and Viernes will likely act, but only for themselves. Mercphobia has no reason to get involved, but he'll probably be forced to do something."
Ignia nodded, his tone pragmatic. "I'll talk to him. He's reasonable, for a Dragon God. If we can convince him to act, it'll make a difference."
Natsu nodded, his silver eyes reflecting the faint glow of the stars. "That'd be good."
Ignia let out a breath, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned back against the rock. "So… this chick… you're sure of it?"
"Yeah," Natsu replied, his voice steady. "The Magic was there. I saw it, and so did Amaris. It's her."
Ignia's expression grew thoughtful, his draconic features sharpening. "Think she can handle it? Because if we get just a Second Coming, we've achieved nothing."
Natsu crossed his arms, his tone resolute. "Well, with what you said about the Magic, me and Amaris will first find a way to strip it of most of those parts. And with no more dragons, I don't think we'll see something like it anytime soon."
Ignia raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Stripping it down won't be easy. That kind of magic doesn't just let go. It's tied to the very essence of what it is."
Natsu smirked, his confidence unwavering. "We'll figure it out. Besides, if anyone can handle it, it's Amaris."
Ignia let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You've got a lot of faith in this girl. What makes you so sure she won't go ape shit?"
Natsu grinned, his silver eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm not. But that's the fun part, isn't it?"
His expression softened slightly as he sighed, his tone more serious. "It's not the way I wanted that fight to go, but… with what you said… this might be our only option."
Ignia nodded, his draconic features sharpening as he crossed his arms. "I agree. I'd have preferred it to be a one-on-one battle, but we can't risk having the bastard around when it fully emerges."
Natsu nodded, then turned around, his silver eyes gleaming with determination. "Well, I still have some business on Ishgar before then. I'll start the preparations on my end."
Ignia's golden eyes narrowed slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "And I'll do it on mine."
"Then we'll keep in touch," Natsu said, offering his hand. Magic glowed from his Re-Equip, and a small device materialized in his palm.
Ignia raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Ah? A Lacrima?"
Natsu grinned, holding up the device. "A Miniature Communication Lacrima, improved with some engineering and a bit of magic. Basically, as long as we're on the same 'time stream,' we can contact each other even from other realms. Since our base is in Amaris's personal realm, it's got a pretty wide range."
Ignia's smirk widened into a full grin, his golden eyes lighting up with genuine excitement. "Inter-Realm Communication? Dude, that's awesome!"
Natsu smiled, his silver eyes gleaming with pride. "And also, if you find yourself on Ishgar and hear a voice in your mind—if she sounds shy, that's Flare, if she's bitchy, that's Lisanna–They handle communication and information gathering for us. We've got beacons and a few high-tech bases all over the continent. They just got an upgrade."
He paused, his tone growing more serious as he explained further. "The bases work with powerful telepathy and a few other things—teleportation, sharp sensory coverage of Ishgar so we can track Alvarez's moves, chat signals, and lacrima communication for intercepting Alvarez's plans. Basically, it's our intelligence HQ."
Ignia whistled, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and admiration. "Oh, you're stacked. And Alvarez is still trying to sell the idea that you're just a few rebels? I've seen the propaganda—why the Spriggan and Zeref have been silent over the last few months. And the stuff in Crocus? Covered up completely. They called it a malfunction of 'experimental bombs.'"
Natsu let out a sharp, dismissive laugh, his silver eyes glinting with sarcasm. "Pfff, yeah right."
Ignia chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Experimental bombs? That's the best they could come up with? They must think everyone's an idiot."
Natsu smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back against a nearby rock. "Yeah, well, when you're desperate, you'll say anything to keep people from panicking. But it's not gonna work forever. We've already cleared a large part of Fiore—some of our members spent their time there while the stronger ones trained."
Ignia raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes glinting with curiosity. "You intend to fully kick them out, right?"
Natsu nodded, his silver eyes narrowing with determination. "Eventually. It'll give us the advantage of controlling what's going to be the main war zone." He paused, his tone shifting slightly. "But first, I need to find Ravenholt."
Ignia nodded in understanding, his expression serious but supportive. "Well then, good luck. If you need my help, you now know where to find me."
Natsu smiled, his six wings materializing on his back and spreading wide, their dark feathers shimmering faintly in the moonlight. "Thank you, brother."
Ignia waved, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "You're welcome, brother."
As Natsu beat his wings and took to the sky, a portal opened before him, and he vanished through it in a flash of light. Ignia chuckled, shaking his head as he watched the spot where Natsu had disappeared.
Ignia turned around, his golden eyes still gleaming with amusement as he walked back toward his palace. A faint smile lingered on his lips, the kind that spoke of both pride and anticipation. The wind tousled his dark orange hair as he strode forward, the weight of their conversation settling in his mind.
"Six wings," he muttered to himself, shaking his head with a low chuckle. "Damn, he's showing off."
The smile didn't fade as he stepped through the grand entrance of his palace, the towering doors closing behind him with a resonant thud. The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps, each one carrying the weight of a dragon who had just found a brother worth fighting alongside.