At last, after what felt like an eternity of nauseating swaying, the agonised groans of the pink-haired one, and the persistent smell of old fish, the silhouette of the legendary Tenrou Island began to materialise on the horizon. It was… impressive, I'll admit.
Not the "oh, what a cute place for a picnic" type, but more the "this place probably has creatures that eat souls for breakfast and use the bones of unlucky adventurers as toothpicks" type. There was a palpable aura emanating from it, a magical density that made the air vibrate and the hairs on the back of my neck (the few that weren't stuck down with sweat) stand on end.
[Ethernano emanation level detected: Exceptionally high, Azra'il. Significantly superior to any normalised magic zone on this continent,] Eos's voice, ever punctual like a Swiss watch with a precision fetish, informed me in my mind. Her 'voice' had a hint of one who has just found a new and dangerously interesting toy.
[I recommend maximum discretion and continuous data collection. The energy anomalies here are… intriguing. And potentially fatal, of course, but that's a secondary detail for the research.]
(Good to know my potential disintegration is a "secondary detail" for your studies, Eos. It brings an indescribable comfort,) I thought, allowing myself an internal eye-roll so subtle not even the gods would notice.
But, I admit, my chattering system was right. Dominating the landscape, like a bony finger pointing defiantly at the heavens, stood the Tree. A vegetal monstrosity at the heart of the island, so absurdly colossal that, even from kilometres away on the deck of that floating bathtub, it looked like a verdant mountain that had decided to take a vertical nap.
Definitely not your garden variety tree. It was more like the great-grandmother of all trees, fed with pure magic and a healthy disdain for the laws of physics.
Master Makarov, interrupting my silent admiration (and Eos's spectral analysis), cleared his throat with the pomp of someone about to reveal the location of the Fountain of Youth (or, at the very least, where he hides the best snacks). "Behold Tenrou Island, my temperamental little pests and S-class-mage-candidates-with-a-screw-loose! Sacred ground and, if you're lucky, only mildly traumatic!" He pointed with a grand gesture to the approaching beach, where three dark openings stood out like the mouths of slumbering leviathans.
"We shall disembark near those welcoming and entirely harmless… caves. They will be your portal to the first test. Prepare your hearts, your stomachs, and, in some cases, your death certificates." That smile of his was a mixture of Father Christmas and the Grim Reaper. Cunning old man.
The instant that rusty Noah's Ark kissed the sand with a sigh that could have been relief or the final goodbye of its timbers, Natsu ejected himself onto dry land with the grace of a drunken comet, proceeding to kiss the sand with the fervent devotion of a man who has just escaped the gallows.
"LAND! BLESSED, SOLID, GLORIOUS LAND THAT DOESN'T SWAY! FAREWELL, WALKING MARITIME VOMIT!" He would probably have written an ode to a seashell if Erza hadn't been nearby, looking at him with the resignation of a mother whose child has just eaten soil in the playground. What a woman. Her level of tolerance for the Salamander's flaming idiocies was something to be studied by scientists and saints.
Mirajane, gliding across the beach with the elegance of an apparition (a very well-dressed apparition with a dangerously sharp smile), located the cave entrances with the precision of a predator sniffing out its prey.
Her blue eyes, which could freeze hell or melt glaciers depending on her mood, shone with a spark of anticipation. "My dear competitors," she caroled, her voice sweet as poisoned honey, but the message was clearly for the bunch who still hadn't unglued their feet from the boat. "Are you going to continue with the contemplative tourism or do you intend to participate in the exam? I hear the first to arrive usually get the… less humiliating challenges." And with a smile that promised trouble for anyone left behind, she set off, dragging a visibly tense but loyal-as-a-guard-dog-on-steroids Elfman with her.
I, as usual, preferred my own pace. While the others hurried, my eyes scanned the forest line, the texture of the sand, the way the wind whispered through the leaves of the Great Tree. There was a silent symphony there, an ancient energy pulsing beneath the surface.
(Eos, this island isn't just land and trees with an extra dash of magic glitter, is it? I feel… layers. Like an old book with many stories whispering at once. And some of them seem to have sharp teeth,) I thought, feeling a shiver that wasn't just from the sea breeze. It was a familiar feeling of raw power and well-kept secrets.
[Your perception continues to evolve beyond that of a common primate, Azra'il. Or perhaps it's simply the fact you've spent countless lives snooping in the darkest corners of countless realities. Indeed, spectral analysis confirms the presence of multiple, complex layers of residual magical energy. Some date back to periods that would make Master Makarov's teeth seem like a newborn's. This place is a vortex. A convergence point. And, as you so astutely deduced, a potential banquet for creatures that appreciate the taste of unwary magic.]
(How delicate of you, Eos. 'Potential banquet'. Lovely. I'll remember that when something tries to rip out my intestines to make a necklace,) I retorted, but the information lodged itself in my mind. "Happy," my voice, a little lower than usual, cut through the air. The blue cat, who was in the middle of a tearful, opera-worthy farewell with Natsu, turned his small head with an expression of pure existential anguish. The idea of leaving his walking stove clearly shattered him.
"Let's get a move on, furball. There are inflated egos in dire need of a needle and an irritating exam to be… tolerated."
With an "Aye, Sir!" that sounded more like a heart-wrenching sob, Happy detached himself from Natsu and flew towards me, landing on my shoulder with the lightness of a feather and the weight of a Korean drama. Poor blighter. Between a hyperactive Dragon Slayer and an antisocial ancient entity, his life was an emotional roller coaster.
Erza, whose patience for sentimentalism had expired about three ports ago, resolved the Natsu issue in the most Erza way possible: she grabbed the unfortunate by what was left of his collar and dragged him across the sand like a particularly noisy, grumbling sack of firewood.
"Come on, Natsu! The exam won't win itself with you being dramatic on the beach!" The Salamander's inflamed protests were heroically muffled by distance and Titania's iron determination.
When, at last, the trio of pairs lined up before the three cave entrances, the atmosphere was palpable. Each dark mouth was adorned with a rustic plaque displaying an enigmatic symbol: a hypnotic spiral, an eye that seemed to judge your very soul, and a tangle of runes that would make an ancient linguist weep with frustration.
"Alright, you bunch of anxious lost souls," I began, with a yawn that didn't quite disguise my newly awakened interest. "Recalling the wise and utterly ambiguous words of our Master: two of these portals to suffering will lead to an intimate, likely painful encounter with one of our super S-Class Mages, and the third is some kind of forced spiritual retreat with the island itself, where you'll confront your inner demons, blah, blah, blah, personal growth. Choose with what's left of your brains. Or follow your suicidal instincts. Makes no odds to me, really."
(Eos, my lovely box of calculations and built-in sarcasm, gift me with your spectral detective skills. Find me the location of that smug accumulator of static electricity with a deity complex, also known to answer to the name Laxus Dreyar. I feel a pressing need, almost a sacred calling, to apply some humility shock therapy to a certain blond backside. Consider it a community service… for my mental well-being,) I instructed mentally, a thin, predatory smile curving my lips. It was almost a civic duty.
[Initiating scan of S-Class Ethernano signatures, with a focus on anomalous electromagnetic fluctuations and detectable emanations of pure arrogance... Processing... Fascinating. The signature corresponding to the psychological profile of 'spoilt heir with a grandeur complex and an affinity for unnecessarily flashy electrical discharges' appears to be heavily concentrated behind the leftmost cave entrance. The one adorned with what looks like a child's doodle of a lightning bolt or, possibly, a very simplified runic diagram of a short-circuiting nervous system.]
Ah, what a delight. Divine providence, or the Master's sick sense of humour, was serving me my favourite dish on a silver platter.
"Well," I announced to the others, who were still staring at the plaques with the intensity of someone trying to decipher the secrets of the universe in a coffee stain. My voice was the picture of casual nonchalance.
"While you noble philosophers ponder which portal to oblivion seems least terrifying, I've decided to resort to the ancient, infallible method of 'my intuition says this one is more likely to provide me with quality entertainment'. And the winner is…" I pointed with a dramatic gesture to the cave on the left. The arena of my future triumph.
Before Erza could deliver a lecture on strategy and considered decisions, or Natsu could let out some incomprehensible war cry and try to run ahead of me out of sheer stubbornness, I was already moving with the grace of a shadow, Happy clinging to my shoulder like a small, slightly terrified blue good-luck charm.
The moment my feet crossed the threshold of darkness, the runes around the entrance glowed with a cold light, and a translucent but fortress-solid barrier sprang up, sealing the path behind me. Natsu's bellows of indignation and the unmistakable sound of fire being uselessly spat against the barrier were music to my ears. Muffled, distant, and utterly irrelevant. What peace.
"So, Happy," I said, as the gloom of the cave enveloped us, the air laden with the smell of damp stone and a faint, almost imperceptible, ozonised scent that made my ancient senses tingle with unpleasant familiarity.
"It seems the 'fun', as our dear Master likes to call it, is about to begin. Prepare yourself for a firsthand spectacle of… let's call it 'ego recalibration'. And please, try not to spontaneously combust from fear or shed excessively. Your ashes and blue tufts would be a bother to clean off my shoulder."
The little Exceed swallowed hard, his large, expressive ears flattening a little against his head as he peered into the growing darkness, his green eyes glowing like little lanterns.
"Aye, Azra'il-chan…" His voice was a trembling whisper, but with a stubborn loyalty that was almost… touching. In an irritating way. "W-who do you think we'll find in here? Is it one of those… giant stone monsters Elfman was talking about? Or… or maybe a very, very hard puzzle?" His innocence was almost painful. Or perhaps just excellent material for future teasing.
A truly genuine smile – and perhaps a little crueller than necessary, but who was counting? – spread across my face, briefly illuminating the darkness before settling into an expression of deliciously sadistic anticipation. Ah, yes. This wouldn't just be a test. It would be a pleasure. A painful, deeply satisfying pleasure. Mostly for me. And the surprise on the little blue cat's face when he discovered who our host would be would only make it all the more… savoury.
---------------(*)---------------
We entered the darkness of the cave, the only light coming from my own slightly adapted eyes and the intermittent, nervous glow of Happy's eyes, who clung to my shoulder like a particularly skittish blue tick. With every crunch of loose stone or the echo of a distant water drop, the little Exceed would jump, his claws digging lightly into my hanfu. If I wasn't so eager for what was to come, I might have even found it cute. Perhaps.
"It's alright, furball," I said, more to test the acoustics than to calm him. "It's just the island's entrails rumbling. Or maybe pony-sized rats. Nothing we can't handle… or use as an appetiser."
[Probability of giant rodents in this ecosystem: Moderate. Probability of you actually using them as an appetiser: Thankfully low, considering your recent tendencies towards less… rustic meals,] Eos commented, ever the voice of reason and inopportune statistics.
After what felt like a pleasant stroll down a corridor that reeked of centuries of mould and the despair of previous adventurers, the passage abruptly widened, opening into a surprisingly spacious cavern.
It was a vast chamber, the ceiling lost in high shadows, the walls encrusted with crystals that emitted an ethereal, bluish luminescence, bathing the place in a phantasmal light. And then, the smell. That unmistakable aroma of ozone and static electricity that made the air vibrate and my teeth grind in anticipation. There he was.
In the centre of the chamber, like a preening peacock in a brood of sparrows, stood Laxus Dreyar. With his forced imposingness, his blond spiky hair defying gravity and logic, and that garish furry overcoat that was an offence to fashion in at least three galaxies. Small golden sparks crackled around him, dancing on his skin and clothes like particularly irritating electric insects. A true spectacle of self-importance.
He spotted us. His dark green eyes scanned the pair who dared to invade his… 'stage', I imagine. And then, he laughed. Not a cheerful laugh, but that sort of loud, arrogant disdain that makes you want to rip the unfortunate's vocal cords out with a rusty fork.
"Frankly, I'm disappointed," his voice, amplified by the cavern's acoustics, was a contained thunder. "Does the Old Man really think this is a challenge for me? Of all the S-Class Mages available, I'm the one unfortunate enough to get… the guild's weirdo bard and the blue cat?" He clicked his tongue, a sharp sound in the stillness.
"I was at least expecting Titania for a good warm-up, or Strauss to test her new demonic transformations. But you?" He measured me from head to toe, a smirk of pure scorn on his lips. "It's like asking a lion to hunt a squirrel. A waste of my precious time. Frankly, an affront to my level. Fairy Tail is really going down the drain if this is the sort of 'promise' they're creating."
He continued his speech, an endless stream of self-aggrandisement. "You know, brat, people like you shouldn't even be here. This exam is for the strong, for those who carry the true power of Fairy Tail on their backs, not for amateurs who can barely hold an instrument." He gestured to himself, the sparks intensifying. "Look closely at me. This is the standard. And you, my dear, are galaxies away. I could end this with a snap of my fingers, but the old man insisted I 'take it easy'. As if I needed to hold back against… this."
With every insult, every display of his inflated vanity, a cold, dark flame ignited in my gut. An ancient hunger, not for power, but for something much more… visceral. The desire to dismantle, to break, to see the mask of arrogance shatter and reveal the nothingness beneath. There was a peculiar beauty in the fall of the proud, a primal satisfaction in being the instrument of that fall.
[The release of endorphins in your system is notable, Azra'il, proportional to the grandiloquence level of the Dreyar specimen. An interesting correlation. The prospect of a… severe behavioural correction seems to be having a stimulating effect. I recommend moderation, unless the objective is to traumatise him to the point of developing a permanent stammer and a fear of stringed instruments, which, I admit, would be an amusing secondary result to observe,] Eos interjected, with her clinical analysis and a subtext of one already preparing the report on the autopsy of Laxus's ego.
Happy, trembling like a blue leaf beside me, or rather, practically trying to bury himself in my hair to escape the intimidating glow of Laxus's sparks, was the personification of feline terror.
"A-A-Azra'il-chan..." he squeaked, his voice no more than a thread, "he… he has a lot of… static energy… and a very, very cross look… and he's saying very, very nasty things…"
"Don't worry, my little heat generator," my voice was as soft as silk, but with a chilling steel wire underneath. "Just get back. Find a nice crevice in the rock, one of the really dark and deep ones, and enjoy the symphony. There will be a lot of noise, some lights, and, hopefully, a very satisfying cry at the end."
To my almost imperceptible surprise, the little furball shook his head, ears flat, but his eyes shone with a stubbornness that defied his size and his evident state of panic.
"N-N-No! I-I'm your partner! I-I'm staying!" His voice was high-pitched, but the determination was palpable. There was a courage there, buried under layers of fear, that drew a flicker of… respect from me. An irritatingly human emotion.
"I admire your bravery, or perhaps your complete lack of self-preservation instinct, Happy," I replied, a faint smile playing on my lips. "In that case, hold on tight. If things get too… electrifying, I'll need a boost to reposition quickly. Your aerial expertise will be… tolerable."
With an "Aye, Sir!" that still trembled but was laden with new resolve, Happy clung to my back, his small claws finding a firm hold on my hanfu. He was an insignificant weight, a furry reminder that, even in my darkest moments, I wasn't completely alone. Irritating.
"ARE YOU DONE WITH THE FAMILY DRAMA OVER THERE?! I HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN WATCH A CAT TRYING TO BE BRAVE! THIS FARCE HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH!" Laxus roared, his paper-thin patience finally tearing.
The smile on my face widened, morphing into something genuinely predatory, a hungry glint in my gleaming blue eyes that promised pain. "In such a hurry, sparky? Afraid the shine of your arrogance will fade before the party truly begins? Or is the Master's grand grandson scared of a 'weirdo bard'?" I took a few steps forward, each movement deliberate, the anticipation thickening around me like a fog.
"I am perfectly ready. Ready to show the Master's spoilt grandson what real electricity is like… when it hits you right in the middle of your ego. Or, in your case, where it should be."
Laxus's eyes narrowed into sparking slits. "You… insignificant fly… You'll regret every word! I'll show you what real power is!"
With a gesture that was pure, fluid poetry, my hand found the hilt of the jian at my waist. Not a gleaming blade, forged with dragon scales and blessed by forgotten gods, but the humble, almost disdainful, wooden training jian. The expression on Laxus's face upon seeing it was priceless: a wave of disbelief followed by an eruption of fury so intense it made the air crackle with even more force.
"A SIMPLE WOODEN STICK?!" he roared, his voice breaking with indignation. The electricity around him exploded, forming a crackling cocoon of pure power. "YOU DARE… YOU DARE INSULT ME WITH THAT?! DO YOU THINK THIS IS SOME KIND OF JOKE?! I'LL REDUCE YOU AND THAT PATHETIC TWIG TO ASHES! THERE WON'T EVEN BE DUST LEFT TO TELL THE TALE!"
And with a guttural cry that ripped through the cave's silence, he unleashed his fury. A colossal bolt of lightning, a spear of pure destructive energy, shot from his outstretched hand, not as an attack, but as a sentence of annihilation. The light was blinding, the sound, the roar of the world's end.
A veil of cold, ancient darkness descended over me. My senses sharpened, time seemed to distort, every particle of dust suspended in the air becoming clear. Ethernano flowed through my veins like an icy river, converging on the jian in my hand. The simple, almost fragile wood became an extension of my will, a conduit of ages of knowledge and restrained power.
In the instant that seemed to stretch for an eternity, when annihilation was a blink away, I moved. Not a desperate block, but a meeting. The jian met the lightning.
SSSSHHHHHRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKKKKK!
The impact was a silent cataclysm. An implosion of light and sound that sucked the air from the cave. Happy screamed, clinging to my back as if his life depended on it – which it, probably, did. For an instant, the world became nothing but the blinding glare of electricity clashing against an unfathomable darkness.
When the momentary storm dissipated, I was still there. Firm. The jian, in my hands, glowed with a faint bluish luminescence, absorbing and dispersing the remnants of Laxus's fury as if it were an insignificant titbit. Where before there was only polished wood, now danced unknown runes, visible only to those who knew where to look, whispering secrets of long-forgotten magics.
Laxus froze. His jaw dropped, his arrogance momentarily replaced by raw stupefaction, disbelief stamped on his face like a grotesque mask. He couldn't process it. That wasn't supposed to happen. Mages fell before his power, cities trembled. And a brat… a brat with a piece of wood had… played with his most powerful lightning bolt.
"That's…" he managed to articulate, his voice hoarse, "…not possible. No one stops a bolt of mine with… with nothing!"
A slow, icy smile spread across my lips. "Ah, my dear bag of sparks," my voice echoed, soft, yet sharp as broken glass. "You have no idea what is truly possible in this universe. Your little electrical tricks, compared to what's out there... are, shall we say, adorably noisy. Quaint, at best."
Pure, primitive rage flooded Laxus's eyes, wiping away any trace of shock. "WHO… WHO IN THE BLAZES ARE YOU?! NO NOBODY FROM FAIRY TAIL WOULD HAVE THAT KIND OF POWER!" he bellowed, lunging forward like a wounded bull, his fists encased in cocoons of murderous lightning.
The real dance began. The cave floor became our bloody stage. Laxus was a force of nature, every blow a thunderclap, every movement a storm. Lightning cut through the air, exploding against the walls, raising clouds of dust and debris. The raw force of his attacks was that of an enraged god, each impact capable of pulverising solid rock.
But I was darkness itself, fluid and unfathomable. My jian was not just wood; it was an extension of countless lives, each a master of a different form of combat, of arcane martial arts from worlds that no longer existed, of lethal swordsmanship learned under alien moons. I didn't just dodge; I flowed. I wove through his fury like a shadow, every movement a denial of his power, a mockery of his strength.
His bolts hissed, seeking my flesh, but found only the vacuum left by my displacement, or were broken, deflected by the jian moving with impossible speed, each block resonating not with the impact of wood against energy, but with the deep echo of ancient magic. The bluish aura around the jian intensified, absorbing, neutralising, rendering his strength… irrelevant.
"You're like an irritating fly! Those little hops of yours and that wand won't save you forever!" Laxus snarled, frustration beginning to erode his posture. He spun, launching a barrage of electric spheres, each one a small death star. "STOP DODGING AND FIGHT FOR REAL, YOU COWARD! FACE ME LIKE A TRUE FAIRY TAIL MAGE!"
"Coward, my dear?" I leapt, Happy beating his wings with desperate force, lifting me high, the spheres exploding below us in a cascade of destruction. The heat of the blast whipped my face, but my eyes never left his. "I call it… efficiency. Why waste energy facing the storm head-on when one can dance between the lightning bolts? Besides, 'fight like a true Fairy Tail mage', coming from you, sounds more like an invitation to unnecessarily destroy half the island and then complain about the bill. I prefer my method, thank you."
[Tactical Analysis: Azra'il's strategy of evasive combat and precise counter-attacks is successfully exploiting Laxus's tendency for wide-area, high-energy-consumption attacks. His patience is depleting at a rate of 17.3% per provocation. Estimated time to a nervous breakdown accompanied by a temper tantrum with many random lightning bolts: imminent,] Eos reported, in the tone of one narrating a particularly amusing chess match.
[And I must add, Azra'il, your affinity for… others' despair and the meticulous deconstruction of inflated egos is truly a fascinating facet of your multifaceted personality. It almost makes me feel a twinge of… vicarious pride.]
(Spare me your pub-psychology analyses and your false pride, Eos. I'm just… ensuring the lesson is memorable, and that he'll think twice before opening his mouth to spew so much hubris next time,) I thought, as Happy dodged a chain of lightning that shot up like a hungry serpent.
Laxus, with the blind fury of a caged animal, turned his attention to the air, trying to bring us down. "GET OUT OF MY WAY, YOU STUPID CAT! YOU'RE ONLY A HINDRANCE!" A few bolts passed dangerously close to Happy's wings. A low, involuntary growl escaped my throat. That was unacceptable.
With a spin in the air, propelled by a frantic beating of Happy's wings that looked more like a terrified, caffeinated hummingbird, I launched myself downwards like a dark falcon swooping on its prey. The wooden jian was in front, no longer a tool of deflection, but the spearhead of my offensive. No more dodging. Now, it was time to inflict. Now, it was time for my symphony.
I landed with the lightness of a spectral feather, the sound of my feet almost inaudible even to my own keen ears. Laxus, still recovering from the shock of having his bolts dispersed or blocked, barely had time to register my change in tactics. Before he could raise a decent defence or vomit another insult about 'pathetic twigs', I was upon him.
My wooden sword, now imbued with a cold, dark blue Ethernano that pulsed with an almost black inner light, became a precise blur. It was not the brute force of a woodcutter, but the surgical precision of an acupuncturist with homicidal intentions. My targets were not the flesh or bones, not initially. They were more subtle. More… cruel. They were the paths.
The meridians through which his magical energy flowed with such arrogance. In a distant life, in a world where chakra was the currency of power, I had learned the delicate, lethal art of interrupting these flows. Here, the principle was similar, only the conductor was different: Laxus's Ethernano.
Each touch of the jian – a tap, a poke, a pressure almost imperceptible to an outside observer – was a calculated strike. My wooden blade, hardened and sharpened by my own energy, didn't cut the skin, but it penetrated his magical defences like a needle through silk, finding the nodes and junctions of his Ethernano system.
Laxus snarled, trying to shove me away with an electric shoulder barge. I dodged with a fluid movement, the tip of my jian finding a point just below his collarbone. There was no sound of impact, just a faint, almost inaudible snap. But his reaction was immediate. A spasm shot through his right arm, and the lightning bolt he was trying to conjure failed, dissipating into harmless sparks and a frustrated groan.
"What's the matter, sparky?" I murmured, my voice a cold breath in his ear as I circled him like a hungry shadow, the jian lightly touching another point on his back. "Trouble maintaining the voltage? Perhaps a loose connection in the system?"
He spun around, his eyes bloodshot, his face a mask of contorted fury. "DAMN IT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
He tried another attack, a wave of electricity spreading from his feet. But as the Ethernano began to rise through his legs, it encountered the points I had subtly 'adjusted'. Instead of a smooth flow, the energy seemed to choke, to back up, causing a sharp pain that made him stagger, a cry of pain and surprise escaping through his gritted teeth. It was like trying to force water through a clogged, twisted pipe. The internal pressure was excruciating.
"Oh, nothing much," I replied with the purest innocence, as my jian slid and touched a point on his wrist, precisely where the Ethernano concentrated before being released in his bolts. "Just a bit of… energy acupuncture. To help with that excessive tension of yours. It seems your channels are a little… obstructed. And apparently, very, very sensitive."
Every time Laxus tried to use his magic, the pain hit him. A searing pain, like needles of ice and fire running through his meridians, his Ethernano channels rebelling against him, the energy turning inwards, causing an internal short-circuit. His own power had become his torture. His movements, once so fluid and explosive, became hesitant, clumsy, interrupted by spasms of pain and the growing fear of triggering another wave of agony.
[Fascinating. Azra'il, your Ethernano flow interruption technique via pressure points is… brutally efficient. The vital signs reading of the Dreyar specimen indicates acute pain spikes and a growing dysfunction in the manipulation of his own magical energy. Statistically, he is heading for sensory overload or a pain-induced magical collapse. Scientifically delightful to observe. Although, I must admit, a little sadistic even by your usual standards,] Eos commented, her tone a mixture of clinical admiration and perhaps a slight hint of… concern for Laxus? Unlikely. She was probably just calculating the cost of repairs to the cave.
"YOU… YOU MONSTER!" Laxus managed to grunt, sweat pouring down his face, his arrogance being rapidly replaced by a mixture of fury, pain, and a growing hint of something resembling fear. He tried to hit me with a desperate punch, more brute force than technique, but the pain in his arm made him miss the target by a ridiculous margin.
My jian found another point, this time in his flank. He doubled over, a strangled cry caught in his throat. The electricity around him, once so controlled and threatening, now sparked erratically, uncontrollably, almost as if it were in pain too.
"Monster? Me? My dear, I am merely the inevitable consequence of your own, inflated conceit," I said, my voice calm, almost gentle, which only made it crueller. "You wanted absolute power? It seems it has a price. And, today, you are paying with interest."
Each touch of my jian was a note in a carefully orchestrated symphony of agony. There was no need for brute force. Just knowledge. Precision. And a deep, cold desire to dismantle that monument of arrogance, piece by piece, point of pain by point of pain.
His attacks, once so devastating, were now spasms of uncontrolled power, more dangerous to himself than to me. He stumbled, groaned, his lightning bolts crackling and failing around him. The once-imposing storm was being reduced to a shower of pathetic sparks.
And I, the 'weirdo bard', the 'brat with a twig', stood there, untouched, my clear blue eyes watching his fall with a cold, calculated satisfaction. The dance continued, but now, I was leading. And the steps were dreadfully painful for my electric partner.
"BASTARD!" he roared, sweat pouring down his contorted face, his eyes bloodshot with fury and a pain he was clearly not used to feeling. "YOU FILTHY WITCH! WHAT IN THE DEVIL HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!" He tried to conjure a force field, but the energy seemed to implode in his arms, making him scream and stagger backwards.
"Done? I've done nothing you don't already have in your vast arsenal, blondie," my voice was calm, a chilling contrast to the storm of his agony. I circled him, the jian ready, every movement a study in deadly precision. "I just redirected a little of your… excess enthusiasm. It seems that having so much power without the proper control or, shall we say, the humility to wield it, can have rather… unpleasant side effects. Who'd have thought?"
He tried to grab me, his fingers crackling with desperate energy, but his movements were slow, telegraphed by the pain consuming him. I dodged with ease, the tip of my jian finding a point on his temple. Not with enough force to pierce, but enough to send a painful shockwave through his skull. He howled, clutching his head.
"DAUGHTER OF A FILTHY BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL DISINTEGRATE YOU, YOU… YOU DISGUSTING WEIRDO!" The insults came out jumbled, almost childish in their frustration. It was music to my ears.
"Kill? Disintegrate? Such aggression," I replied, stopping at a safe distance, but still within his range of painful perception. A faint smirk of scorn played on my lips. "You know, Laxus, power, in itself, means nothing. It's like giving an anvil to a child. It might make a lot of noise, but it'll probably just crush its own foot." I stared at him, my blue eyes cold and piercing.
"You consider yourself strong because of this noisy electricity of yours and your surname. But real strength isn't just about how loud you can shout or how many sparks you can produce. It's about control. About understanding. And, above all, about not being a complete and utter arrogant git to everyone around you. A lesson, apparently, your grandfather forgot to teach you."
Laxus trembled, not just from pain, but from a rage so deep it made him vibrate. He tried to gather one last spark of power, one last act of defiance. "I AM… LAXUS… DREYAR! I… WILL NOT… LOSE… TO YOU!" A pathetic, thin trickle of lightning emerged from his hand, dying before it even reached me.
I sighed, a theatrical sigh of boredom and disappointment. "Predictable. And rather anticlimactic, don't you think?" With a swift, precise movement that he barely registered in his state of pain and exhaustion, I advanced. My jian didn't seek a pressure point this time. It found a specific spot at the base of his neck. A tap. Hard, precise, and charged with a final wave of disruptive Ethernano, but this time, with the intent of turning out the lights.
Laxus's eyes rolled back, and with a final groan that was more exhaustion than pain, he collapsed onto the cavern floor like a sack of discharged electric potatoes. Unconscious. Finally, a bit of peace and quiet.
The silence that followed was almost deafening, broken only by the distant dripping of water and Happy's panting breath on my back. The tension dissipated, leaving behind only dust and the smell of ozone. On the other side of the chamber, a heavy iron gate, which had previously blocked the passage, began to creak and slowly rise, revealing a dark tunnel that presumably led out of that private playground.
[Neurological deactivation of the Dreyar specimen confirmed. Path cleared. I must say, Azra'il, your approach was… clinically effective. Although the 'prolonged psychological humiliation' factor might be considered excessive for the standards of a mere exam, the results are undeniable,] Eos commented, with her usual analytical tone.
(Excessive? Eos, my dear, I call it… educational encouragement. So that he might reflect on his attitudes when he wakes up with a hellish headache and a shattered pride,) I thought, a genuinely amused smile forming.
But before moving on to the next stage of this glorified farce, something occurred to me. A childish, mischievous idea, utterly unworthy of an ancient entity, but irresistibly tempting. After all, I might have left the fifth form, but some aspects of the fifth form seemed to have refused to leave me.
With a swift movement, I took from the inner pocket of my hanfu a small fountain pen I carried for quick notes (or for drawing moustaches on particularly pompous portraits in history books). I approached Laxus's inert body. With a few quick, precise strokes, adorned with an artistic talent I rarely displayed for such… trivial purposes, I left my mark. A beautiful, classic, unmistakable phallic drawing now adorned the arrogant Master's grandson's forehead. Simple, elegant, and deeply satisfying.
"There," I murmured to myself, stepping back to admire my masterpiece. "A little reminder for when he wakes up. So that he never forgets this lesson."
Happy, who had come down from my shoulder and was looking at the fallen Laxus with a mixture of residual fear and growing admiration for me, let out a small "Ooooooh!" when he saw my artwork.
"Come on, Happy," I said, putting the pen away and turning towards the open gate. "I think our work here is done. And with a touch of class, I'd say."
As we walked down the dark tunnel, leaving an unconscious and artistically defaced Laxus behind, Happy began his enthusiastic speech.
"Azra'il-chan, that was AMAZING!" he exclaimed, flying around me like a small, excited blue satellite. "You were so strong! And so fast! And he was all 'Grrr, I'm Laxus, I'm the greatest!' and you were all 'No, you're not, you noisy blond!' and BAM! You knocked him down! I never doubted you, not for a single second!"
I smiled, a genuine, slightly tired smile this time. (Of course you didn't doubt, furball. You were too busy trying not to become a cat barbecue.)
But, deep down, the little Exceed's blind admiration was… curiously pleasant. And the image of Laxus's face when he finally woke up and saw himself in a reflection was a balm to my ancient, slightly sadistic soul.
Ah, yes. This exam was starting to get fun.