Zancrow had never faced such a frustrating opponent. The power of his Flame God Slayer Magic couldn't be unleashed, causing his chaotic urge for destruction to build up inside him. Judging by his face, he looked like he was about to explode with pure rage.
"You old geezer! Just die already!!!"
A wild roar was followed by another overwhelming barrage of black flames.
"Burn! Burn!! Burn!!!"
The usually inexhaustible flames, once trapped by the white cage, simply wouldn't ignite. Zancrow's face was a mix of frustration and anger, but his mind was frantically searching for a way to break through.
My magic isn't working... no, it's being nullified. How am I supposed to fight? Think, think... I remember the Master said something like this. When your magic is countered, you're supposed to... what was it?
Zancrow thought hard but couldn't recall, and in a fit of pique, he took his anger out on a nearby stone. His right foot, wreathed in black flames, shot out, instantly pulverizing the stone and reducing it to ash. "Damn it! I should have paid closer attention back then!"
"A perfect opportunity!"
Seeing his opponent distracted, Org (Gran Doma) didn't miss the chance to strike. He raised his serpent-headed staff. A steady, though not overwhelming, stream of Holy Magic Power flowed into it. The specialized runes etched by the Magic Item Forger absorbed surrounding magical particles, enhancing his Cage magic.
"Magic Power Cage!"
"Mind Cage!"
"Spatial Cage!"
The staff's menacing serpent mouth spat out three streaks of white, like a milky way pouring from the heavens, like sunlight cast from the sky. They streaked toward Zancrow from above, the left, and straight ahead, carrying immense power.
The first was to bind his magic power, preventing him from using his all-consuming black flames. The second was to cut off his thoughts, stopping him from strategizing and turning him into a helpless lamb. The final one was to completely seal the space around him, locking him in a white-light prison. Once hit by this attack, escaping was nearly impossible.
Org earned the widespread respect of the Council with this single Cage magic, and these three techniques were his signature. In his youth, he had used these spells to single-handedly arrest an entire Dark Guild. When it came to detaining criminals, he would confidently claim second place, knowing no one dared claim first in the Council.
---
### 🔥 God Slayer's Dinner
Across from him, Zancrow's patience reached its breaking point. He stopped holding back. Magic Power surged violently through his body, and soon, a grim, dark aura erupted from him.
Clap!
He brought his palms together, fusing the magic in his left and right hands for his ultimate attack: "Flame God's Dinner!!"
This attack had a wide area of effect, allowing it to block all three incoming spells from different directions. Its offensive power was also immense, on a completely different level from the flame weapons he'd created earlier—only attacks like 'Howling' could compare. Plus, since this attack wasn't directly sealing magic like the previous cage, the power of the God Slayer Magic wasn't diminished. As a result, it easily fended off Org's three attacks and even seemed poised to devour them.
The black flames raged, quickly incinerating the three pure white Cage spells!
"How could this be... He actually burned away my magic..."
Org, greatly surprised, felt a mix of shock and panic as his signature, unchallenged technique was broken for the first time. For a moment, he froze, forgetting to press his attack.
But his opponent wouldn't let the opportunity slip.
---
Zancrow shaped his hands into claws. Black flames wrapped around them as if they were alive, and the nature of the fire rapidly shifted. Soon, they condensed into two sharp, wolf-claw-like gauntlets, a meter long and nearly a meter wide. Similar clawed attachments formed on his feet. Combined with his wild, spiky blonde hair, he looked like a fierce savanna lion roaring black flames.
Swoosh!
With a sharp sound of air being sliced, Zancrow's figure vanished from the spot.
"He disappeared?!" Org suddenly snapped out of his daze when he heard the noise, but his opponent was already gone. He instantly grew alert. "Where did he go?"
The next instant, the blonde lion appeared behind him, his black claws slashing down!
"Agh!"
The powerful strike tore through his cloak, carving three bloody gashes into Org's back. A follow-up strong kick sent the old man flying forward.
Crack!
A sharp snap echoed from within his body.
Though he tried to endure the pain, the deep wounds that cut to the bone and the sound of cracking bone forced a muffled groan from Org (Gran Doma). His frail, elderly body, soaring through the air, couldn't even hold on to the serpent-headed staff that had been his companion for years.
Boom! Crash!
He finally stopped flying when he smashed into a large stone slab. But the moment he fell, Zancrow delivered a thrust straight to his abdomen.
"Cough, ah—!"
Zancrow's jab was clearly brutal, piercing six bloody holes clean through Org's body, front to back, soaking him in blood.
A mouthful of old blood rushed up his throat, forcing Org into a fit of coughs. He couldn't hold it back any longer and spat it out, but it didn't even touch Zancrow's meter-long claws, splashing uselessly onto the ground instead.
A seventy-year-old man, with a long beard, a scholar who spent his days indoors studying magic theory, could hardly withstand the fierce assault of this violent young man in his twenties.
"You... you wretched brat..."
This is outrageous! This is utterly humiliating!
Org, though defeated, was fueled by frustration. He sat on the ground, his rage impotent and helpless.
"What's wrong, old geezer?" Zancrow stood over him, mocking him condescendingly. "You were so full of yourself a moment ago! I heard you were a veteran of the Council. Turns out you're nothing but this! Too weak! Far too weak!"
"In our Guild, you wouldn't even qualify for an elite vanguard position! Woo-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!"
Seeing Org's pained expression—humiliated, helpless, and powerless—Zancrow felt a rush of satisfaction. The frustration he'd built up during the fight finally had an outlet. Still not satisfied, he brazenly placed a foot on Org's head and declared: "Does the Council really recruit people this weak? How boring! How utterly disappointing!"
"A weakling like you, forget the Council, the world doesn't need you!!!"
Zancrow's voice grew louder and louder. Finally, he opened his mouth wide and took a deep breath, his chest swelling. He lowered his head, his God Slayer Magic ready to fire.
"Flame God's Bellow!!"
With a mighty shout, just as Org was about to meet his end, a strange surge of magic power suddenly came from behind. Zancrow's body instantly locked up, unable to move, and his ready-to-fire finishing blow was cut short.
"What... what is this?!"
Feeling the intense murderous intent, Zancrow's expression suddenly became panicked because this magic was far more terrifying than the Org under his foot.
If Org (Gran Doma) felt like the relaxed version of Bluenote Stinger, this unknown enemy felt like Hades (Master Precht) in combat mode. Though both were oppressive, the difference between them was fundamental.
"Vampire Magic: It allows me to control the blood in your body, rendering you immobile," Hyberion's figure appeared behind Zancrow. His face was solemn as he spoke softly. "I didn't expect to encounter another type of God Slayer Magic so soon. I can't decide if that's good luck or bad luck..."
"..."
Thud!
Zancrow's body collapsed, hitting the ground hard. He felt like he couldn't move, and he was suffering all over: dizzy, weak of breath, his heart rate severely accelerated, and even his internal organs starting to ache. His magic power quickly faded, and the high-temperature black flames vanished without a trace.
"What... what did you do?!"
Hyberion slowly walked closer and spoke softly: "I simply drew some oxygen out of your blood. Don't worry, you'll recover when you get to the Council's prison cell..."
"Are you alright, Chairman Org?" Hyberion frowned when he looked closer. "It looks like you're seriously hurt..."
Facing such injuries, Hyberion immediately used his specialty: indirect Vampire Magic. By manipulating the flow of blood within Org's body, he greatly slowed the bleeding. He even stimulated the platelets near the wounds, accelerating coagulation. The wounds scabbed over in less than a minute.
Taking the serpent-headed staff that Hyberion had picked up, Org slowly and laboriously stood up, gasping as he thanked him: "Thank goodness you arrived in time, Hyberion. I truly owe you a debt of gratitude for this!"
Hearing his thanks, Hyberion shook his head. "We owe thanks to Mr. Kira's Magic Carpet. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to get here in time."
Org paused, then nodded. "I see."
At the same time, he thought to himself: Although he is young, it seems Kira Hopelight is a more mature and level-headed person than Makarov. Perhaps I should be a little more lenient with Fairy Tail in the future...