BOOM—!
The deafening blast still echoed through the chamber. The magisteel gate—shattered open by Gildarts' Funsai (Crush)—lay twisted and molten, its red-hot remains pooled like slag. Beyond it, a cavern stretched wide and deep, filled with the damp chill of saltwater and the metallic tang of old blood.
The walls, studded with faintly glowing green crystals, cast shifting shadows across jagged stone, forming shapes that danced like writhing demons in the dim light.
At the far end stood an obsidian throne—massive, ornate, and alive with dark energy. It pulsed with sinister rhythm, drawing power from the surrounding air, feeding on fear, hatred, and death.
A figure sat upon it.
Wrapped in shadow so dense it seemed liquid, the silhouette's form was impossible to discern. No features, no clothing—only darkness incarnate. Yet the oppressive magic radiating from it was all too real.
Cold. Malignant. Lifeless. The air thickened under its presence, as if unseen serpents were coiling around every intruder's skin, searching for a way inside.
Before the throne stood a man—thin, poised, and deadly.
His black combat garb clung to his body, revealing cords of honed muscle. Two long katanas crossed at his waist, their plain sheaths hiding a suffocating aura of bloodlust. His face was pale from years without sunlight, but his eyes—sharp and metallic—were predatory.
The instant Arashi, Erza, and Gildarts stepped into the chamber, that blade moved.
Shuu!
No warning. No killing intent. No wasted motion.
The man's body blurred, transforming into a streak of darkness that sliced through the air like lightning.
Fast.
Faster than sight.
So fast that even Gildarts' pupils contracted in reflex.
To the naked eye, there was only a black afterimage trailing two glints of silver—his unsheathed twin blades, cutting lines of cold light through the air.
And his target—was Erza.
The attack reached her in less than a heartbeat. Dozens of meters vanished in an instant as the strike came for her throat with killing precision.
"Requip!"
The shout cut through the air just as the blades reached her neck.
Erza's response was instantaneous. There was no fear in her scarlet eyes, only perfect calm and focus.
In a burst of light, her disguise—the simple merchant garb—shattered into fragments of magic. In its place appeared sleek silver armor, radiant under the cavern's dim glow.
Wings of polished steel flared open behind her with a metallic clash!
Hishou no Yoroi (Flight Armor).
Renowned for unmatched speed and devastating sword combinations.
Clang!
Her left sword met the first strike perfectly, parrying the killing thrust with flawless precision.
Clang! Clang!
Her right blade followed, weaving a storm of silver arcs, deflecting the relentless chain of slashes that came like a hurricane.
The cavern erupted with a storm of light and sound. Every collision rang like thunder, every spark burst like fireworks.
Sparks rained between them as blade met blade at blinding speed. To onlookers, they were nothing but two flickering shadows locked in a deadly dance—each movement a blur of motion too fast for human eyes to follow.
Steel screamed against steel. The duel raged, perfectly matched, neither yielding an inch.
While Erza was locked in combat, the dark figure upon the throne finally moved.
"…You actually found this place."
The voice that emerged was rasping and cold, like rusted metal dragged across stone. It was neither male nor female—only hate made audible.
"You noisy little flies… you've given me quite the surprise."
His tone turned to a chilling sneer.
"Since you're here, allow me to introduce you to my pets."
The shadow beneath the throne began to move—churning, rippling like liquid tar.
It rose, transforming from a two-dimensional stain into a living mire. From that darkness, dozens of creatures burst forth—formed entirely of writhing black energy.
Hounds.
Huge, spectral, and twisted, their translucent bodies pulsed with corruption. From hollow eye sockets burned twin crimson lights—eyes filled with hunger and hate.
HROOOO—!
Their cries weren't sound but raw magical force, reverberating directly in the mind. The wave of psychic fury swept the chamber.
Then they lunged.
Dozens of black beasts surged forward from every direction, forming a perfect circle that closed in on Arashi.
It was the kind of onslaught that could wipe out entire squadrons of mages.
Yet the black-haired youth did not move.
He didn't even look at them.
His gaze drifted past the wall of death charging toward him—settling calmly on Gildarts.
The older mage, far from joining the fight, merely stepped back two paces, folding his arms. The grin on his face widened, bright and eager.
He wasn't going to interfere.
Erza was occupied, her blades flashing against the mysterious twin-sword warrior.
And Gildarts—Fairy Tail's strongest—wanted to see it for himself.
To witness the power of the boy from the East.
The one who shattered a magisteel gate with a single word.
He wanted to see how far that power went—
how deep the abyss inside Hoshino Arashi truly was.
And so, the full weight of the battlefield—monstrous, suffocating—fell upon one man alone.
(End of Chapter)
If I see that this fanfic has support, I will upload it to Patreon!!
[[email protected]/Zukooo]
[Thanks for your support!]