Chapter 17
The early morning mist curled around the thick trunks of the forest, sunlight barely peeking through the dense canopy of leaves. Birds chirped, and a soft breeze rustled the foliage, setting an almost serene atmosphere—until a loud, uncontrollable cackle shattered the peace.
"BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Naruto doubled over, clutching his stomach as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. His body shook with laughter, his breath hitching between wheezes as he tried—and utterly failed—to regain composure.
"Bwah—hahaha—my bad, my bad, I swear! I ain't tryna—pfft—I ain't tryna be rude, man—" He wiped his eyes, still chuckling uncontrollably. "It's just—BAHAHA—it's so damn funny, yet kinda endearing at the same time!"
The other Jellal—no, Mystogan—stood before him, his usual enigmatic presence completely shattered by the ridiculous addition to his face. Gone was the mysterious, masked man of legend. Instead, standing in his place was a man dressed in sleek, well-fitted black and blue attire, his regal yet battle-ready demeanor completely undermined by a fancy, utterly out-of-place mustache.
A mustache that he had, somehow, grown attached to.
Mystogan exhaled slowly, his face twitching as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Wendy insisted," he muttered, as if that was the only explanation he needed to give.
Naruto immediately lost it again.
"SHE WHAT?!" he wheezed, nearly falling to his knees. "Man, tell me you didn't actually cave to peer pressure from a little girl?!"
Mystogan crossed his arms, huffing slightly. "She was very persuasive."
Naruto gasped dramatically, placing both hands on his head as if Jellal had just confessed to something world-shattering. "Oh no. Oh, this is worse than I thought." He started pacing back and forth, muttering exaggerated nonsense under his breath. "Damn. The elusive S-Class Wizard Mystogan, the man who could solo an army without showing his face, defeated by the ultimate weapon—a little girl's puppy eyes."
Mystogan twitched again, shooting him a warning glare. "Are you quite finished?"
Naruto wiped his tears, exhaling loudly. "Nah. Nah, I'm good." He looked at Mystogan again—dead serious for a whole three seconds—before his lips started twitching.
"…pfft."
Mystogan's fingers twitched like he was contemplating a murder charge.
"Y'know," Naruto continued, grinning wildly, "I gotta admit—the mustache is growing on me."
Mystogan blinked. "It is?"
Naruto smirked, crossing his arms. "Yeah, like mold."
Mystogan regretted everything.
Naruto, seeing his expression, only cackled harder. "Aw, c'mon, don't look at me like that, 'Mustachegan'—"
Mystogan physically recoiled. "ABSOLUTELY NOT."
Naruto died.
This was gonna be a long morning.
As the laughter finally died down, Mystogan and Naruto resumed their walk, heading towards the clearing where Wendy and Carla—now in her human form—were locked in a fierce spar.
Their movements were a blur, an extreme exchange of swift, precise close-quarter attacks that defied the typical perception of their strength. Wendy, despite her smaller frame, moved with a deadly grace, wielding the Gentle Fist style, but instead of chakra, it was Sky Dragon Slayer Magic surging through her strikes. Each hit carried a gale-force impact, subtly enhanced by wind pressure, making her deceptively powerful.
Carla, on the other hand, moved like a phantom, dynamic and relentless, a white beast befitting the reputation she had recently earned. Her movements were wild yet calculated, her agility inhumanly sharp, weaving between Wendy's strikes with the ferocity of a natural-born predator. If Wendy was an approaching storm, Carla was a feral tempest, twisting through openings and countering with overwhelming speed.
Mystogan observed with quiet admiration, arms crossed as he muttered, "Impressive."
Naruto grinned beside him, hands in his pockets. "What can I say? I drill 'em hard."
Mystogan had heard the stories—rumors of Naruto's brutal, unconventional training methods. He had seen firsthand how Wendy and Carla performed on missions, but never like this. They had always been flawless, unscathed, unchallenged. But here, stripped of the mission's stakes, they were monsters—pushing their bodies beyond exhaustion, fighting as if the weight of the world wasn't dragging them down.
And it was.
Naruto had trained them under artificial weight, those nightmarish wristbands that siphoned their magic, leaving them running on fumes, their bodies barely holding together from the sheer force of their own perceived gravity. A training loop of endless struggle, making everything else feel like child's play.
Yet, despite that, they moved flawlessly—even under pressure, even when drained to their core.
Mystogan felt an unfamiliar chill. This wasn't normal.
This was Naruto's work.
The spar ended in a draw, neither willing to back down, both breathing heavily but far from broken. As if on cue, they snapped into a unison sign, the same one from Naruto's academy days back in his world. A ritual, a bond, a mark of their growth.
Naruto clapped, smirking. "Attagirls."
Like always, he pulled out a twin popsicle, snapping it in half with one quick motion before handing them each a piece. It was a simple tradition, something he had done since the beginning, a moment of comfort after the storm of their training.
Mystogan watched him closely.
The blonde idiot who had laughed at his mustache was gone.
In his place was a different Naruto—one with a steadfast presence, the kind of leader that his students trusted. This wasn't some reckless loudmouth throwing them into hell for no reason. There was care in his madness, precision in his chaos.
This... this was the Naruto he had come to know well.
"NARUTOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! LET'S FIIIIIIIIGGGHHHTT!"
Naruto barely had time to turn his head before a blazing comet shot toward him, a human missile of pink hair and raw heat.
Natsu Dragneel.
The fire-spewing menace rocketed in, his flames trailing wildly, igniting patches of the clearing in his wake. Birds scattered in terror, and the grass withered beneath his scorching aura. Behind him, a very familiar group trudged along the path of destruction—Team Erza.
Gray, Lucy, and Happy all sighed in perfect unison, the weight of familiarity making them more exasperated than surprised.
"This idiot never stops, huh?" Gray muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Lucy groaned, shaking her head. "That guy has no brakes…"
"Aye," Happy chimed in, flapping alongside them. "At least he's having fun!"
Fun wasn't exactly what Naruto would call it.
"FIRE DRAGON'S ROAR!"
A torrent of searing flames erupted from Natsu's mouth, the heatwave blasting forward like a cannon shot—a spiraling inferno hurtling straight toward Naruto.
Naruto, still standing there with a deadpan expression, casually raised a palm. The flames should've engulfed him, but instead—
Fwoosh!
The fire bent unnaturally, swirling into his hand like water circling a drain. The small swirl seals etched into both of his palms spun to life, absorbing the attack and regulating its intensity. This wasn't like his previous struggle with the Oración Seis—back then, the balance between absorbing and converting foreign energy nearly overwhelmed him. Now? He had perfected it.
The remaining embers, the ones that weren't completely absorbed, were snuffed out with a flick of his wrist, pure physical prowess scattering them into harmless sparks.
Natsu's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell—?! That drain thing again?!"
His sharp teeth clenched. He wasn't about to lose to some weird technique twice.
"I'm gonna break through that damn drain—GAH! FIRE DRAGON'S BRILLIANT FLAME!"
A blazing sphere of red and gold ignited between his hands, a fusion of fire and destruction, hotter than molten rock. He hurled it forward, a final bid to overpower the blonde shinobi. The air itself wavered from the sheer heat.
Naruto, eyes now focused, braced himself as he intercepted the attack. His palm pressed against the roaring inferno—absorbing, converting, overpowering.
Eventually pinning Natsu down to the ground, palming his face as he drains him.
But then—
Something flickered.
Naruto's fingers twitched. His right palm, still pressed against Natsu's forehead, burned. But not from Natsu's usual flames.
This was different.
An unknown power surged, a brief pulse of something untamed and wild, something that sent an involuntary shiver up his spine.
"It's that thing again…"
He looked down at Natsu, who lay flat on his back, completely drained, his chest rising and falling with deep, exhausted breaths.
"D-damn it…" Natsu groaned, eyes barely opening. A lazy, tired grin spread across his face. "Next time... for sure..."
"Aye! That's game!" Happy called out, waving his paw like an actual referee.
Lucy and Gray sighed at the predictability of it all.
"He never learns," Gray muttered, shaking his head.
Lucy crossed her arms. "At this point, I think he just enjoys getting bodied."
Mystogan observed silently, his gaze flicking between Naruto and Natsu. There was something almost nostalgic about their exchange—reckless, chaotic, but strangely wholesome.
Meanwhile, a few steps away, Erza had approached Mystogan, her usual imposing demeanor tempered by an unusual sense of guilt.
She hesitated for a moment before bowing her head deeply.
"About the previous day… I sincerely apologize."
Mystogan blinked.
For a moment, he was caught off guard. Then, realizing what she meant, he waved a dismissive hand, his expression understanding.
"It's water under the bridge," he reassured her.
Because it was. He knew it.
He had long accepted the circumstances of his existence—of how his face was not his own, but an exact replica of the man who had once left a wound too deep to heal in Erza's past.
To her, that face had been one of betrayal, pain, and loss.
To him, it was simply his own reflection.
But he saw it—the way she glanced at him, even now. How she had to force herself to separate the two.
Jellal Fernandes. Mystogan.
Different people. Different stories.
And yet, tied together by something cruel.
Erza straightened, but she didn't step away. Instead, she studied him, her sharp gaze softer than usual, but still searching.
"…You really do feel like a different person," she finally murmured.
Mystogan chuckled, though it lacked true humor.
"I should hope so."
For years, he had walked a different path, away from the sins of the man who shared his face. A path of silence, solitude, and quiet duty.
But Erza? She had lived through Jellal's betrayal firsthand.
She had known him, trusted him, loved him—only to have that same love turned into a scar that never truly faded.
Mystogan had never held her pain in his hands, but he had always known it was there. Heavy. Unyielding.
"You don't have to force yourself," he said after a moment. "To see me differently, I mean."
Erza's brows furrowed slightly, but she didn't deny it.
Because that was exactly what she had been doing.
Trying to reprogram her instincts, force herself to see past the face, the voice, the ghost of a man she once cherished and despised at the same time.
For the longest time, Mystogan had been a shadow—an unseen force, separate from Fairy Tail's daily lives. It had been easier, that way.
Easier for him. Easier for her.
But now?
Now, they stood here, face to face.
No masks. No distance. No shadows to hide behind.
Erza exhaled slowly.
"No," she said finally. "You are Mystogan. Not him."
The weight of those words hung in the air for a moment.
Mystogan allowed himself a small, genuine smile.
"Good."
Then, as if the moment had never happened, Erza turned her gaze toward Naruto, who was now wrestling a half-drained, furious Natsu into a headlock while Gray and Lucy took bets on whether Natsu would pass out first.
She let out a quiet sigh, her lips twitching slightly.
"They truly never change, do they?"
Mystogan followed her gaze, watching the absolute clownery unfold before them.
"No," he agreed, "and that's probably for the best."
Erza's chuckle grew into a full-blown grin, her warrior's blood ignited by the battle unfolding before her. The energy in the air was infectious—the thrill of combat, the camaraderie of friends clashing fists, the heat of battle without the weight of war.
"Okay, it's MY turn now! Let's go!"
With a swift motion, a gleam of golden light enveloped her, her armor shifting in an instant. The wind howled around her as she requipped into her Heaven's Wheel Armor, countless swords forming behind her in a magnificent arc, floating like extensions of her own will.
Naruto rolled his shoulders, unfazed, before smoothly drawing a pair of kunai from his holster. The sharp glint of the blades reflected the morning sun, their edges honed to perfection.
"Aight, Erza. Let's see what you got!"
And then—they clashed.
The forest exploded with movement.
Erza vanished, a streak of red and silver, her swords descending in a deadly rain. Each blade was an extension of her will—precision, power, and elegance combined into a single storm of steel.
Naruto met her head-on.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
His kunai danced against her swords, the metallic clash ringing through the clearing. Sparks erupted with each impact as he deflected the relentless barrage. His grip was steady, his movements fluid—Kunai in one hand parrying, the other weaving through gaps to counter. Every attack blocked, every strike redirected.
He didn't just defend. He pushed back.
Twisting his wrist, he locked one of her blades against his kunai and angled it downward, shifting the momentum. As another sword came for his shoulder, he flicked his second kunai up—redirecting the swing just enough to slip past unscathed.
Erza narrowed her eyes, adjusting her footwork. This wasn't brute force—Naruto was using skill, reflexes sharpened through his years of battle, kunai striking with the precision of his entire life's work.
"Not bad," Naruto smirked, twirling a kunai between his fingers.
Erza's lips curved into a small grin. "Likewise."
She rushed him again.
This time, she abandoned the aerial assault, closing the distance in a lightning-fast thrust, aiming straight for his ribs.
Naruto sidestepped, spinning his kunai mid-air, catching the flat of her blade between its edge and his forearm. With a sharp twist, he disarmed her—sending the sword flying into the dirt.
Erza barely had a second to react before Naruto's kunai sliced through the air—stopping just inches from her throat.
Silence.
Then, a smirk.
With a swift motion, Erza requipped into another armor, knocking the kunai away with the blunt edge of a newly summoned blade.
Erza, a warrior born and raised in the heat of countless battlefields, adapted instantly. Her eyes tracked the micro-movements of his body, predicting his next move before it even came.
She wasn't just reacting.
She was learning.
And she was enjoying it.
Mystogan, standing off to the side, watched in silence.
His gaze swept across the scene—the fierce battle in front of him, the others spectating, caught between awe and casual amusement.
Wendy and Carla sat comfortably on a fallen log, both munching on their ice cream popsicles, their expressions calm and entertained.
Lucy, Gray, and Happy stood a few feet away, eyes glued to the intense fight.
"Man, they don't hold back, huh?" Lucy muttered, watching as Naruto barely evaded a lightning-quick slash.
Gray crossed his arms. "They wouldn't be them if they did."
Happy nodded sagely, like a tiny, floating, blue monk. "Aye, they're both battle maniacs."
Mystogan let a small smile slip.
There was something… warm about this scene.
This wasn't just a fight. It was something deeper.
The way Naruto and Erza moved, pushing each other to their limits, their smiles undimmed despite the struggle—it was the essence of Fairy Tail itself.
A family that fought, laughed, and grew together.
His eyes drifted to Natsu, still planted face-down in the dirt where Naruto had left him, his faint groan barely audible.
"...Next time... for sure..."
Even half-conscious, his determination burned.
Mystogan chuckled. That guy never gives up.
The spar intensified, both warriors moving at lightning speed, trading blows with an ease born of countless battles. Steel clashed against flesh hardened by sage-enhanced durability, and Naruto, despite his usual goofy demeanor, was locked into full combat mode, his instincts sharp, his reflexes honed.
That was… until Erza pulled out the filthiest trick in the book.
At first, she hesitated—her cheeks dusted pink, as if contemplating whether to actually stoop to Mirajane's levels of debauchery. But then… she saw Naruto flinch, his entire being rattled by just the mere suggestion of what was to come.
Her eyes widened.
A devilish smirk curled at her lips.
She had him.
And then she unleashed hell.
"What a naughty married man you are, Naruto~ H-how could you?~"
The blonde almost tripped. His brain short-circuited for a second.
Oh. Oh no.
This wasn't just Mirajane's style of teasing. This was Mirajane's Legacy.
Erza was wielding innuendos with the precision of a master swordsman, twisting each phrase like the blade of a finely crafted weapon, cutting through Naruto's mental defenses like butter.
He had been through wars, battled gods, saved worlds. But this?
This was psychological warfare.
"Isn't that what makes this~ exciting?" she purred, her voice sickeningly sweet, yet deadly.
Naruto snapped back into reality, shaking his head violently as if to purge the wicked thoughts being force-fed into his mind.
"GAH! I AM A MARRIED MAN! IT AIN'T GONNA WORK!"
But it was working.
The images Mirajane had implanted into his brain weeks ago resurfaced with a vengeance, bombarding his mind like a full-on Genjutsu.
Memories of provocative winks, inappropriate remarks, and suspiciously suggestive battle cries filled his head, making him clutch at his skull like a man possessed.
This wasn't training anymore.
This was PTSD.
Naruto's body screamed "ENGAGE! DODGE! FIGHT!" but his brain was stuck in a mental battlefield, fighting ghosts of the past.
And Erza?
She saw her chance.
She went for the killing blow.
In a single fluid motion, she requipped into an unexpected weapon—
A. LONG. HAMMER.
And she swung it.
Right. At. His. Balls.
"NO WAY!" Gray's mouth dropped to the floor, his legs clenching instinctively as he anticipated the secondhand pain about to occur.
Wendy and Carla immediately covered their eyes.
Mystogan's eyes shot open comically wide, as if he had just witnessed a war crime.
"W-WAIT—THAT'S ILLEGAL!"
Lucy and Happy?
They just gawked.
And then—
WHAM.
A sound so horrific, so gut-wrenching, it sent shivers down every man's spine.
Even Natsu, still groaning in the dirt, winced instinctively, despite having no idea what just happened.
For a moment, silence reigned.
Birds stopped chirping. The wind ceased blowing. The universe itself held its breath.
Erza stood victorious, her hammer resting at her side, certain of her victory.
"I win."
However—
As the dust settled…
Naruto still stood.
Completely unaffected.
His expression? Stoic. Unyielding. Unfazed.
Erza's confidence cracked. "H-how?!"
Naruto simply looked at her, his eyes cold, his voice flat—
"Nature… Erza."
And before she could process the nightmare she had just unleashed, Naruto delivered a swift chop to her neck, and Erza collapsed unceremoniously to the ground.
Naruto exhaled, his body relaxed, but his soul?
His soul was scarred.
Women were terrifying.
But what was even more terrifying?
His wife.
Hinata.
A chill ran down his spine.
Fairy Tail, Magnolia - year X784
Erza's soul felt as if it were slipping away.
She had barely recovered from the sheer, world-ending humiliation of resorting to the dirtiest tactics—flinging innuendos and low blows—just to throw Naruto off guard. And as if that weren't enough, she had also committed a war crime against Naruto's lineage.
To make matters even worse, a very dark presence was now approaching.
Mirajane.
"Ne, ne, Erzaaa~" The white-haired beauty purred, sliding onto the seat next to the redhead, her smile warm, yet sending a chill down Erza's spine. "I heard from Lucy that you've been quite... reckless today~"
Erza twitched. Lucy, the traitor, suddenly found her milkshake very interesting.
Mirajane leaned in ever so slightly, her voice soft but laced with danger. "I heard… you hit Naruto in the balls with a long hammer."
The atmosphere around the bar shifted. It was subtle. Cold.
"Oh?" Mira's smile didn't waver, but her eyes darkened. "That was quite the bold move, Titania~"
Erza felt her throat tighten. A bead of sweat slid down her temple. "I-It was an accident!"
"An accident?" Mira's tone remained light, but the way her fingers casually tapped against the table made Erza feel like she was sitting in front of a judge, jury, and executioner all wrapped in one dangerously beautiful package.
"You do realize," she said, her smile never fading, "that those balls… belong to a certain woman, don't you?"
Erza paled.
Gray, sitting a little ways off, leaned toward Natsu and whispered, "For Erza to pull that kind of attack to Naruto— she was salty from her initial loss wasn't she?."
Natsu nodded knowingly. "Yeah, not gonna lie, she had me fooled."
Happy, munching on his fish from the floor, chimed in, "I really thought she took the loss gracefully... turns out, not so much."
Erza's eyebrow twitched at their audacity, but before she could rebuke them—
"IF IT AIN'T UZUMAK'AY, IT'S NOT OKAY!"
The guild turned their heads to the source.
Elfman's voice BOOMED across the hall, rattling glass and striking fear into the hearts of those unprepared for his unparalleled meathead energy.
"I CAN SMELL THE ULTIMATE MAN, MY NEPHEW FROM HIS BALLS!" Elfman declared, fists clenched, eyes sparkling with an almost spiritual fervor. "EVEN IN HIS ABSENCE, HIS ESSENCE LINGERS! A TRUE MAN'S BALLS LEAVE AN IMPACT BEYOND MERE FLESH!"
Naruto wasn't even here and he was still getting glazed to high heaven.
"SUCH FEAT, AND HE WASN'T EVEN A SWIMMER YET! WHAT A MAN!"
"I SWEAR IF NARUTO COMES, I'LL PULL MY NEPHEW RIGHT OUT FROM HIS BALLS AND SHOOT IT STRAIGHT TO MY SISTER'S WALLS!"
"Nephew?"
Cana, who had seen many things in her life, took a long, slow gulp of her ale before muttering, "I need stronger booze for this shit."
Mirajane, still locked onto Erza like a predator toying with its prey, let out a soft giggle. "Oh, Erza, dear~ I do hope Naruto doesn't hold grudges. You wouldn't want me to have to make it up to him on your behalf, would you?~"
Erza's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare."
Mirajane smiled sweetly, resting her chin on her palm. "Try me~"
"MY SWEET DEAR NEPHEW! WAIT FOR ME! I WILL SAVE YOU FROM HIS CONFINES! YOU'LL BE ON YOUR UNCLE'S EMBRACE SOON ENOUGH! MAAAAAAANNNN!"
Across the room, Wendy sat next to Mystogan, her face pink, her hands clutching her glass of juice.
"I… I don't even know what's happening anymore…"
Beside her, Carla—currently in human form—crossed her arms, her own face slightly flushed. "This guild is absolutely filled with degenerates."
Mystogan, ever the silent observer, simply took a sip of his tea, watching the absolute insanity unfold. He may have been a man of solitude, but in moments like this, he found himself thinking...
This... wasn't so bad.
Chapter End