Chapter 24

Tenroujima - Fairy Tail S-Class Trials

The First Trial - Power and Luck

Juvia and Fried's path.

The dense forest of Tenroujima loomed over them, sunlight barely piercing through the thick canopy. The air was filled with the hum of unseen creatures and the occasional rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the island. Every step Juvia and Fried took was measured, cautious—each expecting a sudden challenge to spring upon them at any moment.

And, sure enough, one did.

A loud, obnoxious cackle echoed through the trees, sending a chill down Juvia's spine and making Fried instinctively reach for his sword.

"B-Bickslow?!" Fried blurted out in shock as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, flanked by his eerie floating dolls. His visor gleamed under the faint sunlight as his head bobbed in exaggerated excitement.

"What are you doing here?"

Juvia, equally confused, tilted her head. "Juvia thought the trials only had us, our partners, the proctors and master… So why is Bickslow here?"

Bickslow crossed his arms and let out a dramatic sigh. "With Evergreen helping Elfman and you two pairing up, I couldn't just sit around twiddling my thumbs, y'know? We're supposed to be the strongest in Fairy Tail, right? I wanted to assist someone! Give some guidance! Maybe strike fear into the hearts of weaklings! But then—" His tone dropped into a grumble, his playful demeanor faltering. "Wendy and Carla went and took someone else before I even got to see them! Dammit!"

He looked off into the distance as if mourning his missed opportunity, shoulders slumping slightly. The feeling of being left behind by his usual squad depressed him a little bit.

Fried narrowed his eyes, raising an eyebrow. "So… what exactly are you doing here?"

Bickslow immediately perked up again, arms swinging wildly. "Ah-ha! I went and asked Mystogan! Y'know, if I could help out in the trials, add a little spice, make things more interesting!" He grinned widely, his tongue sticking out playfully. "And then—bam! Here I am, baby!"

Fried's brow twitched. "You begged him, didn't you?"

Silence.

A gust of wind passed between them, rustling the leaves.

Bickslow didn't blink. Didn't even acknowledge the question. He simply turned his head slightly, pretending Fried's words had never been spoken. "Tough luck for you, Fried—Juvia! You get to face me! HAHAHAHA!" His maniacal laughter echoed through the jungle, the floating dolls spinning excitedly around him.

Juvia and Fried exchanged a glance, both sweatdropping.

"This is going to be a headache, isn't it?" Fried muttered.

Juvia nodded solemnly. "Juvia agrees."

Bickslow pointed a finger at them, his tongue still sticking out. "Now, let's see if you two got what it takes! The first trial is all about power and luck, right? Well, let's test that luck of yours first!"

Before either of them could react, the ground beneath them rumbled. The sudden sound of shifting mechanisms made Fried tense up, and Juvia gasped as multiple magic circles illuminated the forest floor beneath their feet.

Traps.

Bickslow's grin widened. "Welcome to my playground!"

Wendy and Mest's path Carla and Laki's path

Wendy and Mest cautiously stepped through the dense foliage of Tenroujima, the eerie silence only broken by the distant crashing of waves. The mist that blanketed the forest felt unnatural, shifting like a living entity, whispering doubts into their ears.

"Something's not right…" Wendy muttered, gripping the hem of her dress as she glanced around.

Mest adjusted his glasses, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. "Be on guard. I have a bad feeling about this."

Their instincts proved correct when, without warning, an immense white beast emerged from the shadows. It loomed over them, glowing red eyes glaring menacingly through the mist. Its thick fur bristled, claws sinking into the ground as a guttural growl rumbled from its throat.

Wendy gasped, stepping back. "W-What is that?!"

As if things couldn't get worse, a second entity appeared—a towering, grotesque tree monster. Its bark-covered limbs creaked ominously, leaves rustling as though whispering ancient curses. Its wooden fingers twisted unnaturally, reaching out toward them.

Mest clicked his tongue, shifting into a defensive stance. "Damn it…! Two enemies at once?!" He instinctively prepared a spell, ready to teleport at a moment's notice.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the illusion, Carla—now in her human form—stood beside Laki, both frozen in horror at the sight before them.

Instead of Wendy and Mest, what they saw were abominations—an unsettling wind humanoid lizard, its emerald scales rippling with each movement, and a grotesque man-rat hybrid, hunched over with jagged teeth protruding from its mouth.

Laki's face twisted in disgust, her voice laced with horror. "What the hell is that thing?! That's the ugliest rat I've ever seen!"

Carla, usually composed, shuddered involuntarily. "I… I don't even want to imagine what kind of curse created such a creature!"

The two groups stared at each other, fear and revulsion clouding their senses, both ready to attack what they believed were horrifying monsters.

Elfman and Evergreen's path

Elfman and Evergreen trudged through the lush, humid terrain of Tenroujima, their breaths steady but tense. They had already faced several traps, and just when they thought they had caught a break, a familiar yet terrifying figure stood before them.

Mirajane Strauss.

Her snow-white hair gleamed under the dappled sunlight, but her usual gentle and motherly aura was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a wicked grin curled on her lips, eyes sharp with mischief and deadly intent. Her presence alone sent a shiver down Evergreen's spine.

"I'm afraid you won't be moving forward," Mira announced, cracking her knuckles, her voice sickly sweet yet carrying an undeniable menace. "I won't hold back, especially not against my dear little brother."

Elfman clenched his fists, muscles tensing as his veins bulged in anticipation. This wasn't just another fight. No, this was a battle for everything. His promotion to S-Class, his honor, and above all—his chance to be an uncle.

"FOR MY NEPHEW'S SAKE! I WILL ASCEND BEYOND A MAN!" Elfman roared, his voice shaking the treetops.

Evergreen's jaw nearly dropped at the absurdity of it all. "Nephew…?" she muttered in confusion before realization struck like a bolt of lightning. Oh. Oh no.

It all made sense now—the possessive glares, the barely-contained thirst in Mira's eyes every time Naruto was mentioned, the way the poor guy would disappear from time to time, likely running for his damn life.

This wasn't just a battle for S-Class. This was a battle for Naruto's freedom.

Mirajane's eyes gleamed with unholy excitement. "Oh, Elfman… you don't even know how much is riding on this."

She rolled her shoulders, and a dark, sinister aura radiated from her body. The ground trembled as her Take Over magic flared to life. Black markings slithered across her skin as she transformed, wings unfurling, nails sharpening into claws.

Evergreen, still struggling to process the chaos unfolding before her, sighed and crossed her arms. "No wonder Naruto keeps sneaking away from these two." She almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

Elfman pounded his fists together, standing his ground. "I WON'T LET WENDY AND CARLA BECOME S-CLASS BEFORE ME! I WILL BE AN UNCLE! MAAAAANNNNN!"

Mira's wicked grin stretched even wider. "LET'S TEST YOUR BALLS, ELFMAN!"

Lightning cracked overhead as their magic collided, shaking the entire island.

Gray and Loke's path

The jungle air of Tenroujima was thick with tension, the ocean breeze doing little to cool the heated atmosphere between the three men standing in a perfect triangle of mutual acknowledgment and rivalry.

Before them, standing like a phantom in the mist, was Mystogan. His fancy-ass mustache, perfectly trimmed, twitched ever so slightly as he exhaled through his nose. The black sleeveless spandex clung to his sweat-slicked skin, accentuating every muscle, while his gray baggy pants billowed in the wind like the righteous drapery of a king. His sandals, humble yet firm, scraped against the ground as he shifted ever so slightly, his presence alone monumental.

A bead of sweat dripped down Gray's temple.

He hated to admit it, but damn it, the guy looked cool.

"Fancy meeting you here, Gray… Loke…" Mystogan's voice was calm yet laced with an undeniable weight, like the prelude to an inevitable storm.

Gray's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding slightly. "Crap. It's mustache man."

Loke, ever the connoisseur of aesthetics, flicked back his fiery mane and smirked. "Nice mustache, man."

Mystogan's lips barely moved, but beneath the thick, majestic fuzz on his upper lip, a small, appreciative smile formed.

"Thank you."

A single leaf fluttered between them, caught in the wind of their unspoken battle.

The three stylish men knew what must be done.

No words needed to be exchanged.

No unnecessary posturing.

Only action.

Gray shrugged off his coat, his bare chest flexing as his magic power surged. Frost crackled at his fingertips, the air around him dropping several degrees in an instant.

Loke adjusted his ring, golden light glimmering from his fingertips as he slicked his hair back, his lion's grin never faltering.

Mystogan… remained still. Composed. Like a warrior who had already seen the outcome of this battle in a dream. His hands twitched slightly, preparing to summon his staff—no, his multiple staffs.

The island itself seemed to hold its breath.

And then—

The three stylish men fought.

Natsu and Happy's path

The salty wind of Tenroujima carried the scent of battle, mixing with the heat of Natsu's flames and the steel-scented aura radiating from Erza. The two stood across from each other, muscles tensed, eyes locked in the purest form of challenge.

Happy, floating nearby, flapped his wings anxiously. "Aye… This is gonna be wild..."

Erza rolled her shoulders, her armor vanishing in a glimmer of magic, leaving only a tight black combat bodysuit. No excess weight. No distractions. This was a test of pure close-quarters skill.

Natsu grinned, his teeth sharp like a dragon ready to feast. "No magic tricks, no flashy transformations—just us and our fists."

The Fairy Tail guild knew these two as Naruto's most competitive challengers. Though neither had managed to beat the blonde warrior yet, they had never stopped growing. Their battles against him had shaped them, refined them. Erza had honed her swordsmanship to perfection, stripping away wasted movements, leaving only lethal precision. Natsu had become a walking inferno, his control over his flames so tight that every strike landed with surgical devastation.

Now, they would test that growth against each other.

Happy gulped. "Flaming limbs vs. blades… It's like a legend in the making."

Erza took her stance, her twin swords gleaming under the midday sun.

Natsu exploded forward, flames roaring around his fists.

Erza met him head-on.

The first clash sent shockwaves through the forest. Birds scattered. Trees bent under the force. The very air crackled as steel met fire.

Natsu's right fist, wreathed in crimson heat, flew toward Erza's ribs. She twisted, parrying with the flat of her blade, the force skidding her backwards but unshaken.

He followed up—left uppercut.

Erza ducked, a blade slicing for his shoulder. Natsu swayed, the sword barely missing his flesh.

No wasted movement. No unnecessary steps. Just the raw dance of battle.

They moved faster. Stronger. Each strike closer to landing than the last. Their eyes burned with the desire to win.

Yet in the depths of their hearts…

They weren't thinking about Naruto.

Not anymore.

This fight was theirs.

And neither of them would back down.

Cana and Lucy's path

The jungle path of Tenroujima trembled beneath their feet as Cana and Lucy found themselves face-to-face with a walking calamity: Gildarts Clive—the strongest wizard in Fairy Tail. Known to shatter mountains with a single step, even Natsu, in all his fiery madness, feared him like death.

Lucy clutched her keys, swallowing hard. "We're dead," she whispered, already regretting every life choice that led her here. But Cana stood firm. This wasn't just about the trials or reaching S-Class—it was about her very existence. Before her stood her father, unaware that the determined young woman before him was his own daughter. And she wasn't about to back down.

Gildarts scratched his beard, glancing between the two. "Huh, I kinda feel bad. This is straight-up bullying, isn't it?" he remarked in a teasing tone.

Lucy, desperate, nodded furiously. "YES, EXACTLY! We can just skip this, right? I mean, you like me, don't you, Gildarts?" she pleaded, her best innocent face on display.

The wizard chuckled softly. "Aw, Lucy, you're adorable." But then his tone dropped—casual yet absolute. "No." In that instant, Lucy felt her soul nearly leave her body.

Cana, however, took a deep, steadying breath. The flask in her hand trembled slightly, yet her eyes burned with resolve. "I won't run," she declared, stepping forward and gripping her tarot cards so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "I'm gonna win. I'm gonna become S-Class."

Gildarts raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he asked, genuinely curious. Cana stared into his eyes—her father's eyes—and replied simply, "Because I have something to prove."

Gildarts exhaled and rolled his shoulders. "Well then." His aura shifted, and as if in response, the birds stopped chirping, the wind stilled, and even the trees seemed to retreat.

Lucy tried to interject, "Cana, I think we should—" but before she could finish, Cana remained unmoved. With a grin, Gildarts said, "Come on then, show me what you got."

And with that, the ground shattered as the strongest mage in Fairy Tail made his move.

And with his arrival, chaos truly erupted.

Cana was the first to react. Her hands blurred as she flung out her tarot cards in rapid succession—a storm of magic slicing through the humid jungle air like razor-sharp blades. "Light Burst!" she commanded, and a dazzling barrage of shining cards exploded forward. The impact boomed repeatedly, lighting the jungle as if it were a fireworks display. Yet despite the brilliant flashes and deafening detonations, Gildarts stood firm, untouched—his calm demeanor betraying not even the slightest hint of disturbance, as if her magic were no more than a gentle summer breeze.

Lucy's voice wavered in disbelief. "H-Hey, Cana… is it working?" she asked, her eyes wide with apprehension. Cana's jaw tightened as she watched Gildarts absorb the assault effortlessly. "He's not even dodging," she muttered through gritted teeth.

Determined, Cana unleashed another flurry of cards—first a dozen, then two dozen—raining down in a destructive arc. "Exploding Cards!" she cried. The cards erupted in a chain reaction of explosions that engulfed Gildarts, causing the very ground beneath him to cave in. Dirt and flames soared into the air, shrouding him in a dense, billowing cloud of smoke. Lucy held her breath as a looming shadow emerged from the haze. When the smoke cleared, Gildarts stepped forward—still standing, still unscathed, with not even a scuff on his impeccable clothes.

Cana froze for a moment, and Lucy's trembling hands confirmed her worst fears. "We are SO dead!" Lucy whispered, panic rising in her voice. Gildarts exhaled slowly, his eyes calm and almost bored. "That all you got?" he challenged.

Without a word, Cana pressed on, throwing card after card—faster and with even greater force. Lightning Cards, Firestorm Cards, and even her mightiest Gravity Cards flew from her hands in relentless succession. Yet Gildarts took them all in stride, his expression never changing. He absorbed each blow as if it were nothing more than an annoying tickle. Cana's breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat streaming down her face as her magical power waned, but her determination did not falter. All the while, Lucy could only watch in horror as the unyielding barrage continued.

Finally, Gildarts sighed, his tone gentle yet laced with amused disbelief. "You're not giving up, huh?" he observed. Cana's voice came out as a hoarse whisper, "...No." Gildarts gave a small laugh, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I see. You've got guts, at least." Cana's arms trembled under the strain of her dwindling energy, yet she refused to relent—even as Gildarts remained immovable.

Desperation spurred Lucy into action. "Alright, screw this. We're gonna need muscle!" she declared, grabbing her key with urgency and thrusting it forward. "Open! Gate of the Golden Bull—TAURUS!" In an instant, a brilliant flash of light burst forth, followed by a resounding, comical "MOOOOO!"

Before them materialized a giant, muscle-bound bull-man, flexing massive biceps with a boisterous grin. "Hahah! What's up, babes?! You called for my glorious abs?!" Taurus boasted, his massive axe casually slung over his shoulder. "Hoooh? A fight?! I'm always ready for some manly action!" But as his eyes locked onto the imposing figure of Gildarts—the most powerful mage in Fairy Tail—Taurus's confident smirk faltered. His bravado dissolved into a twitching grimace as he slowly lowered his axe.

Lucy frowned, uncertainty etched on her face. "Taurus? What's wrong?" he stuttered, a hint of panic creeping into his voice. Cana, panting and exhausted, shot him an incredulous glare. "You better not be chickening out, cow!" she snapped.

Gildarts watched the exchange with a wry smile. "Ah, a Celestial Spirit? Haven't fought one in a while," he mused, his tone light yet carrying the weight of effortless superiority. Taurus, sweating profusely now, blurted out, "Y-Y-You know what?! I think I left the stove on in the Celestial Realm! Moooo sorry!" And with that, he vanished in a flash.

Lucy's jaw dropped in disbelief. "DID YOU JUST RUN?!" she cried, her voice echoing in the suddenly silent jungle. Cana clenched her fists, seething. "That bastard," she muttered under her breath.

Gildarts chuckled softly. "Ah, I didn't even do anything," he remarked, as if his very presence alone had rendered the spectacle of chaos futile. Lucy fumed, "You didn't HAVE to! Your REPUTATION did all the work, damn it!" Meanwhile, Cana wiped sweat from her brow and struggled to catch her breath, her energy nearly spent. In that moment, Lucy felt out of options, and Gildarts… Gildarts hadn't even truly begun to fight.

The air hung heavy with exhaustion and disbelief—a stark reminder that in the realm of magic, raw power often silences even the fiercest of efforts.

Gildarts cracked his knuckles slowly, a confident smirk playing on his lips. "Well, if that's all you've got—" he taunted. In the blink of an eye, he was right before them, moving with a speed and power that defied belief. His very presence unleashed a wave of crushing pressure through the air, and in that instant, Lucy's knees buckled while Cana staggered backward. Their bodies instinctively knew that this wasn't a simple spar—it was an execution.

Gildarts' smile widened as he looked down at them. "Hope you two are ready," he said, his tone deceptively calm before the storm. And then, without warning, he attacked.

The force of his magic struck Cana like a hammer to the gut. Even though he deliberately held back—aware that an unrestrained blow might obliterate her completely—the sheer power behind the strike sent her flying. She crashed through dirt and stone like a discarded ragdoll. Lucy's breath caught in her throat as she cried out, "CANA!" Watching her friend hit the ground hard, she saw blood trickle down Cana's lips and felt the tremor in her limbs as she struggled to rise. But her body betrayed her, refusing to cooperate.

Dropping to her knees beside Cana, Lucy's voice was laced with panic and concern. "Cana! Are you okay?!" she pleaded.

Cana's breaths were ragged, her limbs unsteady, but it wasn't the physical pain that caught Lucy's attention—it was the look in Cana's eyes. In them burned a desperate, fierce determination; a desperate glimmer that had the power to make even the most formidable warriors dangerous. Gildarts recognized that look immediately. He had seen it before—in warriors fighting for survival, in those who refused to yield, and even in himself.

In that charged moment, his aura shifted dramatically. The earlier casual playfulness was gone, replaced by a cold, unwavering intensity. And then—BOOM—a devastating wave of raw, crushing magic erupted from Gildarts' body. The force was so immense that nearby trees cracked and split as if they were mere twigs, and the very earth trembled beneath them.

Lucy's knees buckled under the crushing weight of Fairy Tail's strongest wizard's presence. The very air around her seemed to thicken, choking the life out of her lungs as she watched Gildarts with a mixture of dread and awe.

"This is your limit," Gildarts intoned, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority. "There's nothing wrong with knowing when to stop." His words cut through the tense silence like a final verdict.

Cana's fists clenched tightly. Her body trembled, but it wasn't fear that shook her—it was a seething, burning rage. Slowly, she lowered her eyes to her left wrist, where a simple black wristband rested. Embedded in the worn leather was a mysterious seal—a gift from Naruto. Cana recalled his teasing tone and that ridiculous fox-faced grin as he explained, "It's a stockpiler. Store up magic over time. One-time use, but when you need to pull a wild card… this'll be it." Now, that moment had arrived. Everything depended on this. Her existence, her validation, her right to be acknowledged—all riding on the surge of power waiting to be unleashed.

With trembling determination, Cana pressed her fingers against the seal. A quiet hum of energy filled the air as her stored magic began to flow. Then, in a deafening BOOM, a surge of raw power erupted from her body. The ground beneath her feet cracked open as the accumulated magic poured through her veins, igniting every cell with newfound strength. Her tarot cards shimmered with a violent, untamed glow, each one pulsing with potential.

Cana exhaled slowly, regaining her stance as her eyes locked onto Gildarts. In that charged moment, she spoke in a low, steady voice laced with iron-willed resolve, "Lucy." The sound of her voice startled Lucy, who flinched at the unexpected command.

"Stand back," Cana instructed firmly, not even glancing away from her formidable opponent. Lucy hesitated, worry etched across her face. "Cana, what are you—" she began, but before she could finish, Cana lifted her arm.

Above her, a massive formation of glowing cards swirled into existence—a radiant storm of magic, each card alive with raw, destructive energy. "This fight," Cana muttered, her eyes never leaving Gildarts, "is between me and him."

A slow smile curved Gildarts' lips as he replied, "...Show me then, Cana." And with that, she attacked.

The battlefield exploded into chaos.

BOOM—the sound of impact echoed through the jungle as Cana's barrage of exploding cards met Gildarts' implacable defense. With a graceful sweep of his arm, Gildarts deflected wave after wave of her magic. His Crash Magic tore through Cana's onslaught like a battering ram, shattering the cards into fragments that dissolved into sparks.

Yet, Cana was relentless. In what felt like a heartbeat, she had closed the gap in sheer power—a feat Gildarts hadn't expected so soon. At first, he had casually dismantled her attacks with effortless ease, but now he was forced to make a real effort. He wasn't simply dodging anymore; each deflection was a deliberate, measured parry. Every card that sped toward him demanded his full attention, transforming the clash into a brutal test of endurance.

How long could Cana's stockpiled magic hold up against the might of the strongest wizard? The answer was etched in the relentless barrage—a hundred collisions of raw power, with no words exchanged, only the language of magic. Each time Gildarts shattered one of her attacks, Cana sent another wave forward. The air vibrated with the sound of explosive impacts, and the ground bore the scars of their titanic duel.

In that silent war of magic—raw, violent, and unyielding—every shattered card was replaced by another, and every clash pushed both fighters closer to their limits.

And then—he felt it. A strange sensation that seemed to come from nowhere, like a silent plea. Cana's magic wasn't just attacking; it was reaching for him, searching for something beyond mere destruction. For a fleeting heartbeat, he sensed a whisper of sentiment—a warmth that clashed with the cold logic of battle. But as quickly as it came, her magic sputtered and faded.

Cana staggered, the once-vivid glow of her swirling cards dimming to a tired ember. Her breath hitched in sharp, exhausted gasps, and just like that, her magic was gone. In that fragile moment, it appeared as if she had lost the fight.

Then something unexpected shifted the balance. Gildarts felt a tug deep in his chest—a pull that was both alien and unnerving. His body grew inexplicably heavy, as though an unseen force was pressing down on him. His muscles locked, his movements slowed, and an unsettling feeling crept over him. When his eyes fell upon his left wrist, he nearly gasped in disbelief.

There, wrapped around his real wrist—his genuine, unaugmented limb—was the black wristband. In the chaos of hundreds of clashing attacks, Cana had managed to slip it onto him. It was already activated, and with that single act, she had played her final card: the Disposition Card.

In that stark moment, Gildarts understood. Naruto's modified wristbands weren't merely devices for storing magic—they carried a hidden, insidious effect. Engineered for training, they slowly siphoned the wearer's magic over time, artificially increasing the gravity of their power. And now, his own overwhelming magic was turning against him. The force he had always controlled so effortlessly was now crushing him from within. His knees buckled, his bones groaned under the relentless pressure, and his veins bulged as his muscles strained to keep him upright. The power he wielded so dominantly was now his undoing.

A guttural roar tore from him—"UOOOOOGHHH!"—a sound not born of pain or anger, but of raw shock. Standing before him, Cana did not smile in triumph. There was no joy in her eyes, only steely, unwavering determination. For the first time, Gildarts truly saw Cana Alberona—not just as an opponent, but as a person shaped by struggle, resolve, and hidden fire. Despite his body trembling under the crushing weight of his own magic and his vision blurring from the strain, his gaze remained locked on her.

Cana's shoulders rose and fell with exhaustion. Her fists, still clenched as if grasping an invisible thread, spoke of a resolve that refused to break. She wasn't attacking anymore, nor was she trying to prove her strength. Instead, she simply stood there—quiet, defiant, and utterly determined.

And then, in that charged silence, Gildarts saw something that shook him to his core. In Cana's steadfast expression, he recognized a reflection of Cornelia's face—not in form, but in the resolute, unyielding stare, the same defiant strength, and the familiar, burning fire. It struck him like a crashing wave of realization—a truth so obvious yet long ignored.

Cana was his daughter, the living embodiment of both his legacy and Cornelia's spirit. His breath caught in his throat as the weight of years filled with regret and missed moments crashed over him. All this time, she had been nothing more than a vague memory—a child left behind in the shadow of his own indifference. But now, standing before him in the heat of battle, she had reached him in a way no amount of magic ever could.

Chapter End