Chapter 31

Fairy Tail, Magnolia - year X785

The lively atmosphere of the Fairy Tail guild hall buzzed with energy, laughter, and the occasional clinking of mugs as members went about their usual antics. It was another normal day—until a certain white-haired barmaid approached one of the guild's most reliable wizards.

"Naruto~" Mirajane cooed in her usual teasing tone, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Sitting at the bar, Naruto Uzumaki—S-Class wizard of Fairy Tail—let out a small groan before turning to face her. "Geh, what is it now, Mira?" he muttered, knowing that tone of hers usually meant trouble.

Mirajane simply smiled and waved a mission request in front of him. "A mission," she chimed.

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"This one is special," Mirajane continued, placing the paper on the counter. "The client specifically requested you for a stealth and intelligence-gathering mission. They want to give you more details in person on your way to the meeting point."

Naruto hummed in thought as he picked up the request, his sharp blue eyes scanning the brief summary. Over the time he had on Fairy Tail, he had become one of Fairy Tail's most efficient wizards, particularly in missions that required precision and discretion. His ability to complete jobs with minimal collateral damage made him a sought-after choice for clients who wanted results without unnecessary destruction—something that couldn't always be said for his more rowdy guildmates.

However, given the high demand for his skills, Naruto had delegated most lower-scale missions to Team Mystogan, with Wendy and Carla handling tasks that didn't require his direct involvement. If it weren't for them, his workload would be an endless pile of private requests. Now that he was an S-Class wizard, private missions had become even more frequent—and far more expensive.

He sighed, folding the request paper. "Guess I better see what this is about…"

Mirajane giggled, resting her chin on her hand. "Try not to scare the client away, Naruto~"

He gave her a flat look before slurping the rest of his ramen.

"Yeah, yeah…"

With that, he stood up, tucking the mission paper into his coat as he headed toward the exit, ready to take on yet another job that would undoubtedly lead him into something far bigger than it first seemed.

Little did he know, this mission would be anything but ordinary.

Naruto's destination was no ordinary meeting spot—it was a private luxury hotel, an expensive one, far from Magnolia. The kind of place that catered only to the richest and most powerful. The client had even paid for his travel expenses, covering the extravagant cost of the horse-drawn carriage that transported him toward the city.

Reclining in the plush interior of the carriage, Naruto observed the passing scenery with mild disinterest. That changed the moment his senses flared.

Something was here.

A presence—foreign, malevolent, yet eerily familiar. His Aokugan pulsed faintly as it picked up traces of this entity's life force. It was unlike any ordinary mage. No, this felt primal, something not of this world. Something similar to Natsu's dormant power.

Naruto's expression darkened. An Etherious.

And if an Etherious was involved, he had a strong suspicion about who had summoned him.

The carriage pulled up to the grand entrance of the luxurious hotel, its towering structure illuminated against the evening sky. The golden chandeliers, marble flooring, and silent, well-dressed attendants made it clear that this was a place for only the wealthiest clientele.

Naruto stepped out, ignoring the stares of the hotel staff who seemed surprised by his casual attire compared to their usual guests. Without hesitation, he walked toward the entrance.

A well-dressed butler greeted him immediately. "Right this way, Sir."

Naruto followed without a word.

The butler led him to a private elevator, which ascended smoothly to the very top floor of the building. The ride was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of the machinery. As the doors finally slid open, a corridor bathed in dim golden light stretched before him, leading to a single grand suite.

His steps were calm, measured. But his Aokugan was already active, scanning the room before he even entered. The malevolent energy inside was no longer a faint trace—it was blindingly clear now.

As soon as he stepped through the grand double doors, the presence hit him in full force—a thick, oppressive aura laced with power and authority. And there, standing in the center of the lavish suite, waiting for him with a knowing smirk, was a man Naruto recognized immediately.

Tall, lean, and exuding a confidence that bordered on arrogance, the man's dark purple hair cascaded down his back, tied into a large, elaborate ponytail. His messy bangs partially obscured his slanted, piercing eyes, which gleamed with an unsettling amusement.

His attire was just as striking—a long black coat with flame-like trims, a frilly black v-necked shirt, and light-colored pants tucked lazily over black boots. The buckles and belts across his thighs and calves only added to his distinct, aristocratic yet ominous presence. The tattered coat tails, fluttering slightly as he shifted, gave him the look of a fallen king or a ruler of the abyss.

Naruto remained still, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene.

The man in front of him tilted his head slightly before speaking in a voice as smooth as silk.

"Orange Leech of Fairy Tail, Naruto Uzumaki… I've been expecting you."

His smirk widened ever so slightly as he took a slow step forward.

"Allow me to formally introduce myself…"

"I am Mard Geer."

Naruto's eyes widened the moment recognition struck. There was no mistaking it. The man standing before him was one of Zeref's creations, an Etherious—one of the most dangerous demons from the Book of Zeref.

"Mard... Geer..." Naruto murmured, his voice low but steady.

The demon lord's smirk never wavered as he gave a respectful nod.

"Yes..." Mard Geer affirmed, his tone as smooth as ever.

Before Naruto could respond, the demon continued.

"Lord Zeref has spoken of you, Naruto Uzumaki. Your abilities, your choices, and your... potential. Rest assured, I am not here as an enemy, nor do I intend to bring harm."

Naruto remained wary, but Mard Geer's words were strangely measured—almost diplomatic.

With a graceful motion, Mard Geer gestured towards a luxurious cushioned seat. "Please, have a seat."

Naruto hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, sitting down cautiously. He watched as Mard Geer himself poured a drink and offered it to him, the liquid swirling in the fine crystal glass.

"Do not fret, Master Naruto," Mard Geer reassured with an amused glint in his eyes. "It is not poisoned. I called upon you for a dialogue, not deception."

Naruto took the drink but didn't sip. Instead, he studied the demon lord intently.

"A dialogue?" he echoed.

Mard Geer inclined his head.

"Indeed. Lord Zeref has shared with us your knowledge… and more importantly, the deal you struck with him."

Naruto's grip on the glass tightened slightly, but he remained composed. "Go on."

Mard Geer took a slow sip of his own tea, his crimson gaze flickering with something unreadable before continuing.

"I, along with many of the demons from the Book of Zeref, seek only one thing: our creator's peace. His release. His passing."

There was a brief pause as he allowed his words to settle.

"You are aware of this, of course. It was the very reason you made your agreement with Lord Zeref in the first place."

Naruto exhaled slowly. So that's what this was about.

"We Etherious consider Master END to be our leader," Mard Geer continued, his voice carrying a deep reverence. "Among all of Lord Zeref's creations, Master END was his greatest, his strongest—his masterpiece."

Naruto narrowed his eyes. He could already tell where this was going.

"So what exactly do you want from me?" Naruto asked, his voice flat.

Mard Geer set his cup down gently on the table. "A collaboration."

Naruto raised an eyebrow.

"In time," Mard Geer elaborated, "we will set the stage for the subjugation of a dark guild—one of the Baram Alliance—Tartaros."

At this, Naruto frowned.

"Tartaros?"

He knew of them—a dark guild, one of the infamous Balam Alliance, feared across the continent. But beyond that, their true nature remained a mystery. Their movements were elusive, their purpose unknown.

Mard Geer's expression remained unreadable. "Yes. Our guild." His voice was smooth, deliberate. "Tartaros is unlike any other dark guild, for every single one of our members… is an Etherious."

Naruto's eyes narrowed. "All of Tartaros… are Zeref's demons?"

Mard Geer nodded once. "Yes. Every last one of us. Tartaros is also known by another name—the Bookshelf of Demons from the Book of Zeref."

A heavy silence settled between them as Naruto processed the weight of that revelation. Tartaros wasn't just a dark guild—it was an army of demons. Each one bound to Zeref's will, yet paradoxically driven to seek his end.

Mard Geer continued, his tone as measured as ever. "That is why we wish for you to prepare, Master Naruto. When the time comes, we will provide the necessary resources to hire members of Fairy Tail—of your choosing—to aid in our guild's destruction."

Then, with a slight, almost amused smirk, he added, "Lord Natsu will be included in this operation as well."

Naruto leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply. "What an obvious trap."

Mard Geer chuckled. "No. Consider it a trial. A battle to shape Lord Natsu—to forcefully mold him into the wizard he must become in order to face Lord Zeref."

Naruto tapped his fingers against the armrest, his mind racing. "And you think throwing him into a fight with Tartaros is the best way to do that?"

The demon lord's smirk widened. "I believe in necessity, not sentiment. Lord Natsu must be refined through fire and blood, forged into a weapon strong enough to stand against our creator."

Naruto let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "You Etherious and your insane logic..."

Mard Geer chuckled again. "Then, Master Naruto… do we have an agreement?"

Naruto remained silent for a long moment, his eyes locked onto the Underworld King's.

Then—he remembered.

Igneel's words. The brief yet unforgettable moment he had spent within the dragon's domain, where the air itself crackled with ancient power.

The fire dragon's voice, deep and thunderous, carried the weight of centuries.

"All of Zeref's creations—the Etherious—share a single instinct. It is innate, etched into their very being, something they cannot defy. And that instinct is to eliminate their creator."

Those words resonated within Naruto like an undeniable truth. He had seen it—how demons twisted and turned against their god, how their very existence was both a curse and a contradiction.

In the end, that is what summarizes Zeref's creations. His demons—creatures born from desperation.

For all their malice, all their violence, Naruto couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity for them. These demons didn't ask to be made. They didn't choose to be vessels of destruction. They were bound to their nature, just as surely as fire consumes and the tide erodes the shore.

How cruel it must be, to live solely for a purpose you can never escape.

Naruto finally let out a slow breath, easing up ever so slightly.

"Can you give me time to think about it?" he asked at last, his voice calm but measured.

Mard Geer's lips curled into a knowing smile, as if he had already anticipated the request. "Of course."

With a smooth motion, the underworld king reached into his robes and retrieved something—a lacrima, pitch-black like the abyss, resting atop an ornate golden stand.

"You may use this to communicate with me when you have made your decision," Mard Geer said, offering the object to Naruto.

Naruto accepted it without hesitation, his fingers brushing against its cool surface before swiftly sealing it within a scroll. With a flick of his wrist, the scroll disappeared into his pouch.

Mard Geer gave a satisfied nod. "Consider the mission you took for this meeting done and settled. Your reward will be sent to Magnolia within the next few days."

Naruto nodded in return, standing as Mard Geer gracefully rose from his seat. With a final glance, the demon lord signaled for his departure, paying for Naruto's transportation and ensuring his carriage would take him back to Magnolia.

As the carriage rumbled along the uneven roads, Naruto sat deep in thought, gazing at the passing landscape yet seeing nothing at all.

It was as if fate itself was urging him to settle everything now.

Fairy Tail. The Etherious.

Zeref.

END.

Fairy Tail, Magnolia - year X785

The morning after his meeting with Mard Geer—under the guise of a simple intel-gathering mission—Naruto found himself standing before Makarov's office, Mystogan at his side. The weight of the conversation from the previous night still lingered in his mind.

Inside, Makarov sat behind his massive desk, his expression serious as he gestured for them to take their seats. Mystogan remained silent, his presence as enigmatic as ever, while Naruto took a deep breath before recounting the details of his unsettling alliance with the Underworld King.

He told them everything—the truth about Tartaros, the Etherious, their ultimate goal, and the dangerous proposition Mard Geer had laid before him. As Naruto spoke, Makarov's brows furrowed deeper, his fingers steepled as he processed the information.

When he finally finished, silence filled the room. The weight of the revelation hung thick in the air.

Makarov exhaled heavily, leaning back in his chair. "So… Tartaros seeks their own destruction, and they want to use us to achieve it?" His tone was laced with both skepticism and concern.

Naruto nodded. "That's what Mard Geer implied. He believes that Natsu needs to be tested—refined into a warrior capable of defeating Zeref."

Mystogan finally spoke, his voice calm yet firm. "It's a dangerous game they're playing. If we agree to this, we're walking straight into the heart of their den. And if we refuse…?"

Naruto shook his head.

"Considering what I'm capable of… and the fact that Zeref is one of the few who knows it firsthand… it's safe to say they chose this approach because they know I could dismantle their guild on my own," Naruto said, leaning back slightly. "That's why Mard Geer—despite his character—even went as far as bowing to me."

He exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "They want to position Natsu in a trial that will forcefully draw out his full potential… but at the very least, Mard Geer gave me control over who will join the subjugation mission—and when."

Mystogan's gaze sharpened. "So you're going along with this collaboration?"

Naruto sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah." His voice was laced with reluctant acceptance. "I met the guy firsthand—he's definitely not the type to pull a cheap stunt." He folded his arms. "Despite his personality, he's still bound by the very instinct that defines all Etherious—their need to see Zeref pass on."

Naruto smirked. "Fortunately for us, the members I plan on bringing for the subjugation mission have already been training—with the niche wristbands I made."

Mystogan let out a low chuckle. "Ah… that's terrifying timing. You gave those to them a week ago."

Naruto nodded. "Yeah. Almost like fate's been pushing things forward."

Makarov folded his arms, letting out a small sigh. "It's safe to assume you'll have them fully prepared, then, ya brats?"

"Ah." Naruto gave a firm nod.

Mystogan glanced at him before reaching out his hand. "Naruto, give me one of those as well. Should've started this months ago."

Naruto grinned, fishing into his ninja pouch and pulling out a sleek black wristband. "Here ya go. Better late than never."

Makarov turned toward the window, his expression unreadable as he gazed outside. "The last stretch..." he murmured cryptically.

A quiet moment passed between them before he spoke again. "It seems time is moving forward… faster than we expected, huh?"

Mystogan and Naruto exchanged a glance before nodding in unison.

Laxus and his crew—Fried, Bickslow, and Evergreen—moved through the battlefield like seasoned warriors, their usual reliance on magic stripped away by the training wristbands that constantly drained their energy. The added gravitational pull forced them into a brutal, old-school style of combat, relying solely on their physical prowess, reflexes, and sheer willpower.

The mission was simple: eliminate a gang of rogue mercenaries causing havoc in the region. Normally, they would have wiped them out with a few well-placed spells, but today, it was fists, steel, and sweat that would decide the battle.

Laxus took a deep breath, his muscles aching from the relentless training, but he welcomed the burn. His fists clenched, lightning flickering at his fingertips before sputtering out—the wristband wouldn't let him rely on it. Good. He needed this. He needed to push himself further.

"Alright, team," Laxus growled, rolling his shoulders. "No magic. We do this the hard way."

"Ugh, why did I agree to this again?" Evergreen groaned, adjusting her stance. "My beautiful face wasn't meant for this kind of punishment."

"Because Naruto's got us all wrapped around his insane training methods," Fried said, already analyzing their opponents with a sharp gaze. "And because we all know we can't afford to stay stagnant."

Bickslow cackled, stretching his arms. "Besides, ain't it kinda fun? Feels like we're back to basics."

The enemy mercenaries charged, swords gleaming under the midday sun. Laxus met them head-on, his foot slamming into the ground with enough force to crack the earth beneath him. He ducked under a swing, countering with a devastating uppercut that sent the first mercenary flying. He could feel every inch of resistance from the wristband, his body moving slower than it should, but he pushed through, gritting his teeth. He had to get stronger. He would get stronger.

Nearby, Fried moved with deadly precision, his sword clashing against an opponent's weapon before he twisted his body, using his opponent's momentum against him to drive his knee into the man's gut. Without his magic runes, he had to rely purely on his swordsmanship and agility, but it didn't matter—his discipline carried him through.

Evergreen dodged a blade, countering with a swift roundhouse kick to her attacker's face. The mercenary staggered, and she followed up with an elbow strike to his temple, knocking him unconscious. "Ugh, this is disgusting. I feel like I'm covered in dirt and sweat," she grumbled, flicking her hair back. "Naruto's so going to pay for this. I'm going to have Elfman let loose for this one."

Bickslow, always the wild card, had taken on three at once. Without his magic, his movements were unorthodox—ducking, weaving, striking with his elbows and knees like a street brawler. One of the mercenaries swung at him, but he twisted his body, letting the blade graze past him before retaliating with a brutal punch to the ribs. "Man, this feels weird without my babies," he muttered, referring to his usual floating skulls. "But damn if it ain't exhilarating!"

Laxus grinned despite himself, slamming another opponent into the dirt. "Keep pushing, you lot. We're not stopping till we clear this out."

Every fiber of his being screamed in protest, but he relished it. He had always been strong, but Naruto had shown him what true strength was. The gap between them was like the sky and the earth, but Laxus didn't care. He would close that gap, even if it took decades.

Because one day, he would be strong enough to protect the guild no matter what.

One day, he would pay back the debts he owed.

Meanwhile, Team Erza—consisting of Natsu, Gray, Lucy, and Happy—was as chaotic as ever, barreling through their latest mission with the usual reckless energy. However, this time, the added strain of the wristbands forced them to move differently. Every action required more precision, every attack drained them faster, and every dodge felt like pushing through knee-deep mud. The training wasn't just about endurance; it was forcing them to refine their instincts, fight smarter, and rely on each other in ways they hadn't before.

Natsu wiped the sweat off his forehead, grinning wildly as he weaved through a group of enemy bandits. His usual explosive movements were sluggish, but the resistance forced him to get creative. Instead of relying on brute force, he ducked low, used his momentum, and delivered a heavy uppercut that sent one of the bandits flying.
"Oi, oi, this sucks!" he huffed. "I wanna go full power already!"

"Quit whining, flame brain," Gray shot back, landing a clean counterpunch to another bandit. "You're just mad you actually have to use your brain for once."

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Natsu spun to face him, but just as he did, Erza appeared between them in a flash, effortlessly parrying an incoming sword strike.

"Focus on the mission," she commanded, her voice calm but sharp. Despite the immense gravity weighing her down, she moved with an unnatural grace, her battle instincts kicking in at full force.

Behind them, Lucy was dealing with her own problems. She lashed her whip expertly, catching an enemy's weapon mid-swing and yanking it away. Virgo, who had been summoned to assist, watched with amusement, nodding approvingly.

"Impressive, Princess," Virgo said, her usual deadpan tone tinged with admiration. "At this rate, you may have to drop the 'Princess' title and let me call you Mistress instead."

Lucy froze, her face turning beet red. "DON'T!" she screeched, pulling her whip back so hard that she accidentally sent another enemy flying into a nearby tree.

Natsu and Gray, having overheard the exchange, burst out laughing.

"You sure you're not into that kinda thing, Lucy?" Gray teased.

"Shut up, Gray!"

Natsu, still smirking, turned to Erza. "You know, with all this extra training, maybe you won't have to rely on your cheap tricks and weird innuendos when you fight Naruto."

Gray nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, maybe you'll actually stand a chance without flirting mid-fight."

For the first time in a while, Erza hesitated—her posture stiffening ever so slightly. Then, to everyone's shock, a faint tinge of pink dusted her cheeks before she quickly masked it with a terrifying aura.

A heavy silence filled the battlefield.

Then, with a single step forward, Erza's presence alone sent an overwhelming pressure crashing down on Natsu and Gray.

The two instantly comically shrunk back, their confidence crumbling under the sheer force of her glare.

"S-Sorry," the two muttered in unison.

The battlefield was a mess of shattered earth and broken trees, remnants of the chaos Elfman had wrought. His breath was heavy, his knuckles cracked and raw, but he stood tall, fists clenched as his opponents circled him. The mercenaries he had been sent to subdue had originally scoffed at the idea of a single mage facing them alone, but now, as they wiped blood from their brows and nursed broken bones, their confidence had begun to waver.

"W-What the hell is with this guy?! I thought Fairy Tail mages were all about flashy magic!" one of the grunts panted, his sword trembling in his grip.

Elfman rolled his shoulders, the extra gravity weighing down on him like an invisible boulder, but he refused to buckle. The training wristband strapped to his wrist had siphoned off most of his magic, leaving him with no choice but to fight the old-fashioned way—bare fists, pure muscle, and unrelenting willpower.

"Magic? Who needs it?" Elfman scoffed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "A real man—no, the ULTIMATE UNCLE—fights with his own strength!"

With a deafening roar, he lunged forward. His first opponent barely had time to react before Elfman's fist crashed into his gut, sending him skidding across the dirt like a ragdoll. Another mercenary came from behind, swinging a heavy axe at his back. Without turning, Elfman spun on his heel, grabbed the man's wrist mid-swing, and yanked him forward, slamming his forehead against the poor bastard's nose with a sickening crack.

"GAH—MY FACE!" the mercenary screamed, clutching his nose as he crumpled to the ground.

Elfman straightened up, flexing his biceps as he laughed heartily. The wristband was forcing his body to move under immense strain, every action requiring ten times the effort, but to him, it was all worth it. He had a mission. No, not the mission Makarov gave him. His true mission.

"I can't falter now…" Elfman muttered, his eyes burning with conviction. "Naruto and my sister… their union… it must happen!"

He could see it so clearly in his mind—the future Strauss prodigy, a child of unparalleled strength and unshakable will, molded from the combined greatness of Naruto and Mirajane. This wasn't just about training. This was about destiny.

One of the remaining mercenaries hesitated, staring at Elfman as though he were some kind of madman. "Oi… this guy's muttering about some union now… Is he okay?"

"Hell if I know! He won't go down, though!"

The last grunt, a burly, axe-wielding brute, gritted his teeth. "Screw this! We just need to kill him—together!"

The three remaining mercenaries rushed him all at once. Elfman exhaled sharply, cracking his knuckles. The gravity may have been pressing down on him, his body screaming from exhaustion, but he refused to break.

"THIS IS FOR MY FUTURE NEPHEW, YOU BASTARDS!"

Meanwhile in Fairy Tail, the guildhall was as lively as ever, filled with the usual chaos of laughter, shouting, and the occasional brawl between rowdy mages. Tankards clashed together, stories of past missions were shared, and bets were placed on who would win the latest arm-wrestling match. Amidst all this, Mirajane Strauss moved gracefully behind the bar, her serene smile never faltering as she poured drinks and wiped down the counters.

However, beneath her usual angelic demeanor, a relentless battle was taking place.

The training wristband strapped snugly around her wrist was a silent tormentor, continuously siphoning her magic while simultaneously increasing the gravity around her. Every step she took carried the weight of a mountain, every flick of her wrist to pour a drink demanded more effort than it should. But to an outsider, it was as if nothing had changed. She moved like water, effortless and smooth, her balance unshaken even as the world around her felt heavier with every passing second.

Across the bar, Macao and Wakaba sat together, nursing their drinks as they observed her work.

"Hey… is it just me, or does Mira look even more graceful than usual?" Macao muttered, watching as she effortlessly balanced a full tray of drinks while dodging a stumbling mage who nearly crashed into her.

"Hmm…" Wakaba took a slow drag from his pipe, squinting as Mirajane moved. "Yeah, now that you mention it… That was way too smooth. Even for her."

"Right? She just swerved like she knew that guy was about to fall. And did you see how she caught that glass earlier without even looking?"

Macao was referring to an incident from just a few moments ago. One of the rookies had clumsily knocked over a full tankard of beer. Before the drink had even fully tipped over, Mirajane had snatched it from midair with a graceful spin, placed it back on the table, and given the guilty party a warm, reassuring smile as if it were nothing.

"Huh," Wakaba grunted, rubbing his chin. "Maybe we're just imagining things."

"Yeah… probably." Macao shrugged before taking another swig of his drink.

Little did they know, Mirajane had been under the wristband's strain for weeks now, adjusting to the absurd weight and magic drain far quicker than anyone else. While others had to consciously struggle against it, she had made it a part of her very movements, seamlessly adapting in a way that felt almost supernatural.

She set down another round of drinks at a table where a group of rowdy Fairy Tail members were celebrating a successful mission. One of them, a bulky man who had clearly had too much to drink, suddenly pushed back his chair too hard, nearly falling backward.

Mirajane reacted instantly.

With a delicate step forward, she extended a single finger and lightly tapped the edge of the chair. The momentum shifted, and the man's chair steadied as if by magic. The drunk mage blinked in confusion before grinning up at her.

"Ahaha! Mira, yer a lifesaver!" he slurred, raising his drink.

She chuckled softly, placing a hand over her mouth. "Just be careful, okay? We wouldn't want you hurting yourself fufufu."

The air crackled with tension as Wendy and Carla on her human form moved in perfect harmony, their sparring match a blur of speed, precision, and sheer force. The training wristbands had long since become second nature to them, their bodies adapting to the crushing weight of the increased gravity. Every step, every strike was controlled, refined—not a single movement wasted.

Wendy's breath was calm, her sapphire eyes sharp with focus. Her magic reserves had been drained to their bare minimum by the relentless siphoning of the wristbands, forcing her to rely on a far more brutal, direct fighting style. Gentle Fist – Dragon Slayer arts. The technique she had painstakingly developed condensed what little Sky Dragon Slayer magic she could muster into her palms and fingertips, allowing her to strike with devastating precision while under the influence of the training wristbands.

She pivoted swiftly, ducking under Carla's spinning kick before launching a palm strike toward the Carlas's chest. A compressed burst of wind erupted from her hand at the last second, a near-invisible force meant to knock Carla off balance.

But Carla was ready.

With cat-like reflexes, she twisted mid-air, using the momentum to land gracefully on Wendy's outstretched arm. Without missing a beat, she sprang forward, lashing out with a devastating Leaf Hurricane—a move that would've knocked out an ordinary opponent.

But Wendy wasn't ordinary.

She shifted her weight, grounding herself as she caught Carla's leg mid-kick, stopping the impact entirely. The ground beneath her cracked slightly from the sheer force, but she barely flinched.

Carla's eyes widened for only a fraction of a second before she flipped backward, using Wendy's own grip as leverage to reposition herself. She landed lightly on the ground, eyes burning with the thrill of the fight.

"Not bad," Carla said, rolling her shoulders. "But let's see if you can keep up."

Without hesitation, she blurred forward, her entire movement pattern shifting into something almost unnatural. She was fast before, but now she was ridiculously fast—every step precise, every movement calculated. She struck out with a barrage of high-speed punches, a deadly mix of a dynamic fighting style, fused with her own innate agility.

Wendy barely managed to weave between the strikes, her eyes tracking Carla's movements with incredible focus. Even so, she knew she couldn't avoid them all.

"Fine then… I won't dodge."

Instead of retreating, she stepped in, letting Carla's punch glance off her shoulder before twisting her body. She exhaled sharply as she delivered a single open-palmed strike directly to Carla's stomach, the last of her magic focusing into the impact point.

A burst of compressed air detonated upon contact.

Carla gasped as she was blasted backward, flipping through the air before landing smoothly on her feet. She staggered slightly, clutching her midsection, but she didn't fall. A slow grin spread across her face.

"Well," Carla panted. "That actually hurt."

Wendy smirked, wiping sweat from her brow. "Good. I've been holding back."

From the sidelines, Levy and Gajeel watched with a mix of admiration and horror.

Levy's jaw was slightly slack as she stared at the battle unfolding in front of her. "Err… I need whatever it is they're eating…"

Gajeel gulped, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he begrudgingly accepted the terrifying reality in front of him. Wendy, the same kid he once saw as a timid little girl, had become an absolute beast. He didn't want to admit it—hell, it hurt to admit it—but if he were to fight her now… she might actually roll his ass.

"…Urg, me too," Gajeel muttered, though his pride made it sound forced.

From behind them, a familiar voice chimed in. "Welp, if you want that kind of power, Naruto's your man," Cana said casually, sauntering up to them with a massive barrel of alcohol hoisted on her shoulder.

The two didn't respond. They were too busy watching Wendy and Carla resume their sparring, their movements sharper, faster, more refined.

"Maybe… I should ask Naruto for one of those wristbands too…"

The two thought in unison.

Back to Fairy Tail.

The sky burned with hues of deep orange and fading violet, the last light of the sun stretching across the horizon. From Makarov's office, three figures—Naruto, Mystogan, and Makarov—stood in silence before the window, their gazes fixed on the distant sunset.

"So, brats… how long are you planning to just stand around here?" Makarov finally broke the silence, his gruff voice laced with amusement.

"U-Urgh—!" Mystogan staggered slightly, nearly losing his balance. The training wristbands were already taking their toll, siphoning his magic dry and using it against him by amplifying his perceived gravity. As an S-Class mage, his reserves were vast—but that only made the weight even more unbearable. He felt like he was being crushed under an invisible force.

"Ah… my bad…" Makarov chuckled.

Chapter End