Mount Hakobe was a branch of the famous snowcapped Zonia Mountain Range, where snow and icy winds raged without end all year round.
Because of the brutal weather, the magic railway didn't extend that far. Noah and Nab had to take a merchant's carriage—the kind used to haul magical herbs from the Hakobe foothills.
After eight or nine hours of bone-jarring travel, the two finally arrived at the village at the base.
Noah nearly leapt off the cart. At first, the ride hadn't bothered him, but after hours of bouncing, his back ached and his whole body felt twisted.
After paying the herbal merchant for transport, they followed the address on the commission slip to the home of their client—the village chief.
Knock knock.
The door opened to reveal an elderly man with a white beard. His eyes lit up when he saw Nab's Fairy Tail emblem. "A wizard from Fairy Tail? You came quickly! Please, come in."
Inside the warmly lit house, they drank hot tea brewed from the very herbs found on Hakobe while the chief explained.
The "Winter Snow Grass," native only to Hakobe, was a prized magical herb. When consumed, it restored stamina and magic energy rapidly. The small village's livelihood wholly depended on harvesting it.
But a month ago, a pack of monsters called **Vulcans** had swarmed into the mountains.
Not only did they drive away villagers gathering herbs, but they also descended from the slopes to harass the village, once nearly injuring a child.
Fearing for both safety and survival, the villagers pooled together 550,000 jewel, and the chief sent this commission to Fairy Tail.
"How many Vulcans exactly?" Noah asked.
The answer made Nab blanch. "…More than fifteen."
Noah frowned. He remembered from **Monster Encyclopedia**—these ape-like beasts lived in groups, yes, but usually stable packs of seven or eight. Rarely more than ten.
And Hakobe's frozen climate wasn't natural habitat for Vulcans at all. So why gather here suddenly?
---
After treating them to a warm dinner, the chief advised them to rest for the night first. Noah politely declined.
On the journey, he'd already devised an action plan. Nab wanted a test of strength. And since Vulcans shared human-like daytime cycles, the dead of night was the perfect time to strike them while they slept.
Under clear moonlight, the two figures climbed Hakobe, snow crunching beneath their boots.
As Noah predicted, finding the Vulcans wasn't difficult. There were only a handful of natural caves suitable on the mountain, and only one large enough for twenty or so beasts.
Soon, they arrived.
Nab steeled himself and slipped inside.
The cavern glittered with ice crystals. A faint glow shimmered across the walls, reflected from a magical light source embedded within.
Nab's eyes widened. He counted—not fifteen. Not twenty. Twenty-five Vulcans.
Among them, five seemed different—larger, surrounded like kings among soldiers. Leaders.
Nab didn't hesitate further. Behind him, the phantom of a massive black bear reared, scarlet light enveloping his fists.
**"Attachment Magic: Bear Soul!"**
With a roar, he slammed his palm into the nearest Vulcan. Its skull cracked with a sickening thud, blood splattering red against white.
The roar woke the pack. Twenty-four pairs of bloodshot eyes turned his way, snarls echoing through the cavern.
The pressure was suffocating. Nab crouched low, fists up.
---
At the cave mouth, Noah leaned silently against rock and sighed.
"…Really, Nab? We could've killed five or six in their sleep. But no—you had to roar and challenge them straight up. Now you're facing twenty-four at once."
Noah shook his head. He could never understand the so-called "glory of battle" espoused by Nab's wild clan, but he respected the choice.
Nab's **Attachment Magic** allowed two animal spirits: Bear, which granted raw strength, and Wolf, which bestowed agility. But the magic channeled only one at a time.
So Noah had crafted boxing styles for both. **Bear Style** emphasized crushing blows. **Wolf Style** emphasized speed and evasion. Switching forms consumed magic, but done well, the rhythm flowed like seamless martial art.
Now, in live combat, Nab displayed his training. A Vulcan lunged, jaws wide—he twisted aside, then switched, slamming his palm like a bear's paw into another monster's skull. Then flicked back to Wolf Soul, darting to pursue as the beast staggered.
Strength of a bear. Speed of a wolf. With proper boxing technique layered atop, normal Vulcans fell like flies.
One down. Then another. Then another.
By the time the seventeenth beast fell, Nab's body was scarred and bloodied, but his spirit blazed brighter than the moonlight outside.
He roared, charging another foe.
---
"Enough!"
A thunderous voice rang. From among the leaders, one spoke—in human language.
Nab froze. A Vulcan… *talking?*
Noah's mind sharpened. Vulcans were infamous for **Take Over magic**—the ability to forcibly possess humans.
So those five leaders weren't Vulcans at all. They were **humans wearing Vulcan faces.**
Snarling, enraged, Nab hurled himself forward, fist glowing with scarlet might.
His punch blasted one leader clear across the cavern, smashing stone wall with bone-cracking force.
The other four leaders snarled in shock.
"Boss is down?!"
"We'll use our true power!"
"Yes—drop the disguise!"
Magic circles flared at their feet. The gorilla-shapes twisted, unraveling. Cloaks replaced fur. Staffs appeared in hand.
Humans now stood before Nab—draped in cult-like attire. Five wizards, radiating dark power.
Nab's face blanched. The so-called "Vulcan leaders" weren't beasts at all. They were *cultists hiding among them.*
Weakened from his battle against twenty foes, his magic waning, Nab realized: he was finished if he stayed.
But his eyes softened. His personal challenge? To prove himself? Complete. He'd defeated twenty Vulcans and uncovered the truth of the leaders. That was enough.
Swallowing pride, he bolted, sprinting back.
"MASTER! SAVE ME!!" he roared into the night.
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