The roar of the newly fused Gaias Colossus wasn't merely sound—it was an earthquake wearing the skin of thunder.
It rolled through the ruins of Magnolia like an ancient verdict, rattling glass in far-off buildings that still stood, making the broken ribs of the Fairy Tail guild hall groan under the strain. The vibration seeped into the ground, into the bones of every living thing that heard it, demanding they recognize the presence of something older, greater, and utterly unyielding.
It wasn't just a roar—it was a living declaration, a primeval hymn.
A blend of overwhelming, immovable power and the gentle, life-affirming whisper of wind that had once been Regalus.
Its massive form gleamed with iridescent obsidian, polished to a strange, natural sheen that caught what little sunlight pierced the clouds. Veins of living moss crawled across its armor, blooming with flowers that no human had ever cataloged—petals of gold and white, glowing faintly, pulsing in time with the giant's breaths.
Each exhale was a soft gale, a wind so pure it tasted like untouched mountaintops. Even the air smelled different—no longer cloyed by the scent of battle, but crisp, almost sweet, tinged with the scent of wet stone after a rain.
The colossal guardian's tusks arced like curved crescents of petrified jade, their tips glimmering faintly with inner light. Its eyes, deep and still as untouched forest pools, fixed on the Jellyfish Shade—the abomination that had pulverized Fairy Tail's home into splintered rubble.
The very air between them tightened, as though the world itself understood that these two forces were not meant to coexist.
For a heartbeat, nothing moved.
Not the wind.
Not the enemy.
Not even the hearts of those who watched.
***
The Gaias Colossus moved first.
A guttural, cavernous roar burst from its vast chest—a sound that seemed to shake loose centuries of dust from the bones of the earth.
It lifted its colossal foot and slammed it down.
Giga-Quake.
The moment its heel met the fractured cobblestones, the ground convulsed in a violent, continent-born shudder. The shockwaves were visible—concentric rings of raw force racing outward, cracking stone and splitting the already broken streets.
Fairy Tail members nearby staggered, grabbing onto debris to stay upright. Phantom Lord stragglers fell to their knees, their magic disrupted by the rolling quake.
The Shade Soldiers—those ephemeral, distorted specters—were hit hardest. As the shockwaves rolled beneath them, their shapeless forms rippled and unraveled into rivulets of golden-green light. They shrieked, but the sound was brittle and short-lived. Wherever the quake struck, the ground split—not into dead fissures, but into seams of luminous grass that sprouted instantly, glistening with dew.
From atop a shattered wall, Levy McGarden clung to the edge, wide-eyed.
The magic… it's changing the battlefield itself. It's not just destroying—it's restoring.
The Jellyfish Shade recoiled, its mass writhing in an alien dance, then lashed out. Shadow-limbs as thick as ancient oak trunks shot forward, each impact like a hurricane slamming into solid rock.
The Colossus staggered back a single step—but then the wind rose. Not a storm's howl, but a steady, cleansing current that burst from the giant's body. Where the shadow struck, light and air met it, stripping the corruption away as though the darkness itself was fragile dust.
Deep within the Shade's distorted body, Jose's voice pulsed—a jagged echo across the battlefield.
"Crush it! Purge them!"
But something was different.
In that command was not confidence—only a hairline fracture of doubt.
***
The Colossus's tusks lowered, angling toward the ground as its eyes narrowed in something that felt dangerously close to focus.
Wind gathered at its feet, swirling upward into a tight spiral. Water followed, drawn from shattered fountains and ruptured pipes, wrapping itself into the spiral's core.
Its mouth opened.
Hydro–Aero Blast.
The release was cataclysmic. A typhoon of living wind and pure water erupted from its trunk in a twisting torrent. Shade Soldiers were torn apart mid-lunge, their screams scattering into the wind like ash in a gale. The Jellyfish Shade reared back, trying to shield itself, but the torrent scoured across it with the force of nature itself—a cleansing wave that left the battlefield gleaming with damp, vital light.
The sound was deafening, yet strangely tranquil. Like a waterfall singing as it drowns fire.
From a rooftop, Macao stared, slack-jawed. "By the gods… it's washing them away…"
Beside him, Cana gripped her barrel-shaped weapon like a child clutching a talisman. Tears mingled with grime on her cheeks. "It's gone… it's really gone…"
***
The fight was no longer balanced.
It was a slow, inevitable tipping toward victory.
The Jellyfish Shade's once-fluid form began to unravel, edges fraying into tatters of mist. Each lash of its limbs came slower, weaker. Even its cries were losing their alien edge, replaced by something uncomfortably close to fear.
It tried to flee—its body rippling backward toward the shadows from which it came—but the Colossus did not allow retreat.
The guardian charged, tusks glowing brighter with each pounding step. The ground itself seemed to welcome its passage—broken earth knitting together, weeds and flowers sprouting in its wake.
With a final, earth-splitting impact, it slammed its massive form into the Jellyfish Shade.
There was no mere collision—this was annihilation.
Golden-green light erupted, drowning the sky, devouring the black mass in a slow, merciless tide. The Shade shrieked—a sound that stripped away the idea of it being a mere summoned monster. This was something dying.
And then it was gone. Dissolving into motes of black dust that faded, powerless, into the clean air.
Silence fell like a blessing.
The foul, sweet stench of shadow magic evaporated. In its place came the smell of wet soil and fresh-cut grass.
The clouds above Magnolia broke open, sunlight spilling in gentle shafts across the transformed battlefield. Where the fight had been fiercest, there were now patches of untouched green, as though the earth itself had decided to erase the scars.
Somewhere far below, the remaining Fairy Tail mages erupted into cheers.
"It's gone!" Cana shouted, her voice cracking.
"Yume pulled off a miracle!" Macao bellowed, still staring at the Colossus as though afraid to blink.
Levy simply whispered, "Impossible power…"
***
From the jagged maw of a shattered wall, Natsu Dragneel crouched low, eyes locked on the battlefield beyond. The air inside Phantom Lord's hollowed giant still stank of scorched metal and shadow magic, but beyond that — in the open — the Gaias Colossus stood triumphant, bathed in sunlight breaking through torn clouds.
Beside him, Lucy Heartfilia leaned against the stone, her breathing uneven from their earlier fight. Dust streaked her cheeks, but her wide eyes shone with something else entirely.
Happy hovered between them, his little wings beating fast. His tail flicked excitedly. "He actually did it!" he burst out, voice high with joy that cut through the heaviness of the moment.
Lucy's gaze tracked the Colossus as it lifted its head, the wind from its movements carrying the clean scent of fresh earth even into the ruins. "That's… Yume's doing, right?" she breathed, as if speaking too loud might break the fragile, perfect moment. "It's incredible… he's protecting everyone."
Natsu's mouth curled into a grin, sharp and fierce. The fire in his eyes reignited, burning away the fatigue clinging to his limbs.
"Yeah," he said, voice low but full of promise. Then, with a burst of energy, he pumped a fist toward the light spilling in through the ruins. "That's how Fairy Tail fights back! With everything we've got!" His gaze snapped toward the darkened hall beyond, where Jose still waited. "Jose's next."
The words hung in the air like a vow.
***
Inside the Phantom Lord giant, where shadows still ruled, Jose Porla felt the shift.
The defeat of his summon slammed into him like a physical blow, the magic feedback rippling through his core. The shadows around him writhed—alive yet wary—like wolves uncertain of their master's strength.
He stood before Erza and Yume, and for the first time since the battle began, the composure in his face shattered.
"You…" His voice was low, almost trembling—not with fear, but with a fury so deep it seemed to boil the air. "You brats have… dared."
Yume adjusted his grip on his gunswords, breathing ragged.
He's about to lose control.
Erza's eyes narrowed, her stance shifting. Her arm throbbed from the deep gash along her bicep, but she ignored it. Her focus was on the way the very space seemed to ripple around Jose, as if the giant's insides were bending toward him.
"You stopped my Jupiter Cannon. You broke my Element 4. You shattered my Abyss Break…" His voice rose, cracking into something wild. "And now… you destroy my army?"
The floor trembled. The walls seemed to close in. The shadows stretched, reaching like claws, yet flinching away from Jose's own growing aura.
"Enough," he snarled, his eyes burning like coals in a forge. "You will not live to see another dawn."
He raised both hands.
The air screamed.
Shadows coiled into a spiraling vortex of pure corrosion, a whirlpool of darkness so thick it bent the light away. The pull was physical, dragging dust, stones, and even loose armor plates from the walls into its churning heart.
Erza's breath caught in her throat—not from fear, but from the sheer pressure of it.
If that hits… there will be nothing left.
Yume's finger twitched over his trigger. His mind ran every escape path, every counterspell, and came up empty.
It's like staring into the mouth of an executioner.
Jose's voice broke into a roar.
"This is the end for you—Fairy Tail dies here!"
The vortex surged forward, devouring the space between them. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Only to stand… or be erased.
End of chapter.