The next morning arrived wrapped in an unusual silence.
The sky was still tinged with soft shades of blue and orange, as if the sun were hesitating to fully rise. Thin clouds stretched slowly across the horizon, reflecting the golden light of dawn, while a fresh breeze swept through the open fields of Magnolia.
The dirt road stretched ahead, marked by ancient wagon ruts and footprints almost erased by the dry dust.
It was along that path that Natsu walked.
The clothes he wore were in dark tones: a modern-cut black jacket, fitted to the body without restricting movement, zipped halfway up the chest. Beneath it, a simple shirt of the same shade, made of lightweight fabric. The dark pants were held by a discreet belt, and the black mid-calf reinforced boots were already covered in dust after just a few hours of walking. The scarf left by Igneel remained around his neck, contrasting with the rest of his appearance and swaying gently in the morning wind.
He walked with his hands in his pockets, his gaze calm on the path ahead.
The road led to the nearest train station, from where he would continue his journey for several days. Still, part of the route would have to be covered on foot. The mission he had chosen at the guild that morning was far too distant from Fiore — distant enough to fit his plans perfectly. The city where the job awaited lay on the border between Ishgar and Alakitasia.
Rosenfeld.
The border city occupied a secondary trade route between the two continents. Officially, it was nothing more than a passage point for independent merchants. Unofficially, however, it had become a problematic location in recent months. Caravans had been disappearing. Messengers sent by the Magic Council simply never returned.
The request for help had come directly from the local trade association.
The mission's objective was clear: investigate the disappearance of the caravans, identify the source of the threat, and eliminate it if necessary.
The offered reward was four million jewels upon full completion of the mission.
A sum that easily surpassed most of the jobs available on the first-floor board of Fairy Tail.
Rewards that high rarely came without proportional risks. And in this case, there was an additional factor that made everything even more delicate: the proximity to the territory of the Alvarez Empire. Any poorly handled conflict could be interpreted as a political provocation. The Magic Council was already tense enough after the Twilight Ogre incident. For that reason, Makarov had forbidden any member from accepting the mission when it was posted a few days earlier.
Fortunately, he had managed to convince the old master that he would be able to handle the mission without causing him any headaches.
Natsu shook his head, a faint ironic smile tugging at the corner of his lips before he calmly continued down the road.
Convincing the old man had been… interesting.
But it was the conversation the two of them had about the Grand Magic Games that truly caught his attention. The guild master was already perfectly aware of the tournament and, more than that, intended to announce Fairy Tail's participation later that same day. The decision had already been made: the guild would form only a single team, and his spot had been practically guaranteed from the beginning — considering the original story — besides, the reason was no mystery to anyone. His new "power level", still undefined and surrounded by rumors, had been drawing attention ever since the almost careless way he had dealt with Gray and Gajeel in the last few days when they provoked him — two mages who, in the past, had possessed strength very close to his own.
That was how he secured his place without any trouble.
Officially, the Grand Magic Games would begin in about a month and a few days — enough time for adjustments, planning, and above all, for him to prepare better for what was to come. There was also a very practical, non-negligible advantage in the fact that he was leaving on a mission right when the selection of candidates for Fairy Tail's competing team was approaching. This way, he would avoid the journey to the Spirit World with Lucy and the rest of the group — something that would cost him an entire month, far too precious to waste when he could be training for real. After all, in the Celestial Spirit World, a single day corresponded to an entire month in the human world, making any serious training attempt practically impossible.
Ironically, it seemed that this time luck had actually conspired in his favor. He hadn't planned any of it, but the situation ended up helping him deal with a problem that, sooner or later, he would have had to face: the fact that he didn't want to train near Lucy and end up dragged into yet another stay in the Celestial Spirit World just to participate in their welcome-back party.
When his thoughts reached that point, he ended up remembering Lucy's magic. He had always found it particularly interesting, since Celestial Spirits are magical beings from a parallel universe known as the Celestial Spirit World. These beings can be summoned by Celestial Spirit Mages who, by using the Keys of the Celestial Spirit Gates, open gates connecting the Human World to the Spirit World, allowing their passage.
These keys are divided into two classes: the more common Silver Keys and the extremely rare Golden Keys. Even so, Celestial Spirit Keys are counted in Units, regardless of class, and a Celestial Mage's reputation is usually directly tied to the number of Units they possess.
All Celestial Spirits receive names based on different constellations. That inevitably made him think of Saint Seiya, his favorite anime. Of course, there was no direct connection between the two, but the constellation theme was enough to trigger that almost automatic association.
But if Saint Seiya really was his favorite anime, why had he never materialized anything from that work to use in this world? Shaka's ability to deprive someone of their senses, in particular, was incredibly tempting.
He had thought about it, of course. However, being a bit too much of a "perfectionist," he had concluded that the best path was to advance step by step, consolidating his strength gradually. At the moment, he already had many abilities to master, and accumulating an excessive number would be a terrible idea. It was better to become a true master of a few than a superficial specialist in many.
In any case, that door wasn't closed. In the future, when he was more prepared, he could still turn to his favorite anime to acquire new abilities and powers…
Though he admitted he had been a little greedy in acquiring so many powers and abilities, it was still very little compared to what anyone else would want to obtain if they had the same opportunity he possessed through his [Subjective Reality] authority. He had no doubt that another person in his place would spend all their available energy every day to materialize as many abilities and powers as possible for themselves. Compared to that, he had been surprisingly restrained, almost moderate in his approach…
Leaving that aside, he decided to pick up the pace a little on his journey.
The path remained peaceful for the next few hours.
The greenery gradually became scarcer, replaced by dry, rocky terrain. The low vegetation almost completely disappeared, giving way to a harsh landscape dominated by ochre and reddish tones. The wind there was different: hotter, carrying fine sand that scraped against skin and clothing. When the sun was high enough to punish without mercy, the landscape finally opened into an uneven desert, surrounded by enormous rock formations like natural walls raised by time.
Natsu slowed his pace until he stopped.
He observed the place in silence for a few moments. There were no signs of life nearby, no recent trails, no constructions. Just rocks, sand, and the vast sky above his head.
A perfect environment for training his fists.
He smiled faintly and looked out across the entire desert.
"… It's time to start my own training arc before the Grand Magic Games!"
And so he decided to remain in that place for the rest of the day and only depart the following morning. Anyway, he had a month and a few days of travel ahead of him, so he might as well make good use of that time.
After finding a suitable spot to spend the approaching night, he decided to start training immediately. He let out a low sigh — more of satisfaction than fatigue. He stretched his neck, rolled his shoulders, and slowly closed his fists, feeling the tension build in his fingers.
According to the "Garp Manual" he carried in his mind, the location didn't need to be anything elaborate. It could be a mountain, or even Navy warships; the goal was simple and brutal: punch without stopping until the fists became stronger. Remembering that, a part of him hesitated. The pain of striking a gigantic rock with bare hands would obviously be horrible. Still, there was no room for retreat now…
Taking a deep breath, Natsu walked forward and stopped in front of his first challenge on this journey.
Before him rose a grotesque block of raw stone, easily comparable in size to a multi-story building. The surface was irregular, marked by ancient cracks and layers hardened by constant heat. To any normal person, it would be immovable. To him, it was simply a target for his fists…
He positioned himself in front of the rock.
Knowing that if he thought too much he would end up hesitating to strike it, he decided to act immediately and begin without further delay.
The first punch was direct.
The impact echoed through the desert like dry thunder. The rock gave way a few centimeters, a crater forming exactly at the point of impact while stone fragments scattered across the ground. Pain shot up his arm instantly — sharp, raw — drawing a slight clack from his gritted teeth.
He didn't back away.
Even before the crack could spread, his [Arc of Time] magic activated almost automatically. The fissures closed, the fragments returned to their places, the rock's surface reformed as if it had never been struck.
Natsu clenched his fists again.
The second blow came harder.
And the third.
And the fourth.
Each impact made the air vibrate. The skin on his hands tore, knuckles split open, blood ran and stained the pale stone. Bones creaked under the absurd pressure. The pain was constant, hammering his nerves without mercy.
And yet, he continued.
[Ultra-rapid Regeneration] kicked in immediately afterward, rebuilding flesh, closing wounds, realigning bones before the discomfort could even fully accumulate. It wasn't complete relief. He still felt every blow, every impact. And that was precisely the point — there was no way to avoid the pain of that training…
Punch after punch, he kept the rhythm.
Sweat ran down his forehead, mixing with the dried blood on his hands. His breathing remained steady, deep, rhythmic. The expression on his face was serious, focused, almost distant.
Between one strike and the next, stray thoughts appeared and vanished.
A part of him wanted to stop. The pain was truly awful, and he wondered why he was subjecting himself to this kind of madness to get stronger when he could simply "cheat" to achieve the same result.
Another part, however, knew that growing without effort, receiving everything handed to him on a silver platter, would lead to an empty path — a path where there would be no real sense of accomplishment. Even though he had far more opportunities than others to become stronger, what would be the point if he wasn't worthy of his own power?
He might have been a playboy in his past life, but he was also someone who had worked hard to develop his seduction skills. Effort had never been foreign to him. That's why hard work continued to be the path he would choose. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dedicated himself so intensely to training in the weeks since he was reborn in this world. Although he had obviously taken full advantage of the benefits he received upon rebirth, that didn't change this fact…
When he reached his limit of tolerance, Natsu stopped.
He looked at his own hand for a second. It was already completely healed. No trace of the previous damage.
He grimaced as he felt the throbbing pain travel through every inch of his bones.
Still not enough.
He resumed his stance and began striking again, ignoring the passing time, ignoring the sun slowly advancing across the sky.
Afternoon arrived almost without warning.
The sun was no longer at its highest point, casting long, distorted shadows between the rock formations. The heat remained intense, but it had lost the midday aggression, becoming heavier and more tiring. The air felt thick, laden with the dust raised by every impact that had echoed for hours in that silent desert.
The last punch came without enough force to sink into the rock.
Natsu felt his arm fail midway through the motion.
The impact was dull, imperfect. The pain exploded all at once — not as a sharp shock, but as a crushing weight that traveled through his bones, up his nerves, and spread across his entire body. His legs lost strength, and he dropped to his knees in the hot sand, his whole body trembling. He breathed with difficulty, chest rising and falling unevenly, as if every inhale required conscious effort. His fists, despite being completely regenerated, felt numb, tingling in an uncomfortable, almost unbearable way. It was a deep pain that didn't come from the flesh, but from accumulated exhaustion.
For a few seconds, he simply remained there, hunched over, head bowed.
Then, in a hoarse whisper, he murmured:
"Dispel."
In the next instant, rings of purple coloration began to emerge from all over his body. They weren't physical, but the pressure they exerted was unmistakable. One by one, the gravitational weights he had kept active since the moment he woke up began to dissolve, dissipating into the air like compressed smoke finally being released.
The sensation was immediate.
The invisible weight that had been crushing him vanished all at once, and his body reacted almost violently to the change. Without strength to stay upright, Natsu fell forward, his body sinking into the hot sand. He rolled onto his back, arms spread wide and limp at his sides, fingers still trembling slightly. His chest continued to rise and fall rapidly, but now there was something different in that breathing — it was relief…
The sky stretched above him, vast and clear, with orange tones beginning to dominate the pale blue of the afternoon. A few thin clouds drifted slowly, indifferent to the absurd effort that had taken place below.
Natsu lay there looking up, eyes half-closed against the light.
The silence of the desert reimposed itself, broken only by the sound of his own breathing and the hot wind passing over the rocks. His body still ached, even without visible wounds. Every muscle felt heavy, exhausted, as if drained to the limit.
But his mind was strangely clear.
He knew that kind of training wouldn't make him stronger overnight. He also knew that, for someone with the abilities he possessed, it might seem useless, even irrational. Still, there was something in that physical wear that no ability materialized through [Subjective Reality] could replace.
Natsu remained lying down for a few more minutes, letting the heat of the sand warm his back while the wind carried the fine dust away.
Slowly, he raised his right hand toward the orange sky.
His fingers trembled slightly — remnants of the brutal effort — but the intention was firm.
"Busoshoku no Haki…"
The words came out low, almost a whisper, as if saying them aloud made the act more real.
In the same instant, a dark coloration began to crawl across the skin of his arm, like ink being poured in slow motion. It wasn't just a superficial coating; the metallic tone seemed to rise from within the muscles, traveling through the veins, hardening the epidermis until it gained that characteristic black-bluish sheen of Armament Haki. The air around his hand seemed to condense for a moment, as if the atmosphere itself recognized the presence of something denser, more dangerous.
He slowly closed his fingers, feeling the difference.
The sensation was… strange.
Technically, he had already reached an advanced level. He could feel the [Ryuo], the internal flow of his Haki coursing through his own body, and he had already mastered what was called "internal destruction." Honestly, he had only reached that point thanks to his prior familiarity with Magic Power, Ki, and Curse Power, along with his [Magic Power Manipulation], which encompassed all those energies and ultimately broke that barrier for him. Ironically, what others took years or even decades to achieve, he had accomplished in just a few days. Still, the main reason was clear: he had materialized the training experience of various One Piece Haki users, condensing countless years of practice into an absurdly short period — the reason he had reached the advanced level of Armament Haki.
He opened and closed his hand a few times, testing.
The sense of weight was greater now, but not uncomfortable. It was like wearing armor that, instead of restricting, seemed to amplify every movement. He could feel the muscles working beneath the layer of Haki, but he also felt that, if he wanted, he could concentrate even more, make the coating denser, sharper…
With a sudden motion, he rolled to the side and rose in a fluid movement, ignoring the protest of his leg muscles.
Standing once again before the same rock formation he had hammered for hours, Natsu took a deep breath.
"Let's see if you can take it now…"
He stepped forward, twisted his hips, and threw a straight punch.
The impact was completely different.
This time there wasn't just a dry boom and a crater. The fist coated in [Busoshoku no Haki] pierced through the rock's surface as if it were hardened cardboard, sinking almost half a meter before stopping. A shockwave spread throughout the entire formation; wide cracks opened in zigzag patterns from the point of contact, climbing and descending like gigantic spider webs.
The cracks didn't stop.
The entire rock formation collapsed.
BOOOOMMMM!
The sound was deafening. Not an ordinary explosion, but the deep roar of something massive giving way completely. The shockwave traveled from the inside out, pulverizing entire layers as if they were compacted sand. Giant blocks fragmented in mid-air, shattering into hundreds, then thousands of smaller pieces that were hurled in every direction. The sand rose like a thick curtain, and the ground trembled beneath Natsu's feet as if a small earthquake had been triggered there.
When the dust finally began to settle, nothing remained.
Where the grotesque stone wall had once stood, there was now only an irregular field of scattered debris, deep craters, and rock fragments ranging from fist-sized to entire car-sized chunks, some still slowly rolling to a stop.
Natsu stood motionless, his fist still extended, coated in the dark [Busoshoku no Haki].
Then, he used [Arc of Time] magic to restore the rock formation to the state it was in before receiving any blows — as he had been doing from the beginning — and resumed training his fists.
_________________________
(A/N: Before anything else, I need to speak openly about [Subjective Reality]: yes, it is absurdly overpowered. There's no real way to pretend otherwise. Any ability that allows someone to materialize powers, skills, experiences, and items is broken by definition. So, from the very beginning, the only way I found to make this even remotely coherent within the story—aside from the energy limitation for materializing things—was to place a limitation on Natsu's own mentality.
And this is something that, even if it hasn't been the explicit focus of every chapter, has been subtly developed up to this point. As Natsu himself reflected in this chapter: anyone else in his place would spend all their available energy every single day to accumulate as many powers and abilities as possible, turning themselves into a walking catalog of cheats. He could do that—but he doesn't.
Not because he can't, but because he doesn't want to walk that path.
His mindset is that of someone who believes in real effort, in earning his own strength. Even with an unfair advantage over every other character, he chooses to train, to feel pain, to exhaust himself, to fail, and to grow gradually. This doesn't nullify [Subjective Reality], but it does make him different from those overpowered protagonists who gain everything without effort—and it also makes it possible for this authority to exist without completely destroying the story's tension.
That said…
The next chapters will be much more focused on combat, for those who really enjoy intense, no-holds-barred fights.
In particular, confrontations with the Spriggans are coming up, and I'm still deciding which one will take the main spotlight:
Irene: who, at the current moment, basically puts Natsu in her pocket in terms of raw power—besides fitting perfectly with his "type," both in personality and presence.
August: a tactical nightmare, since he would copy virtually all of Natsu's magic, forcing him to rely far more on Haki and his Devil Fruits.
Brandish: extremely powerful, but someone Natsu can still handle with intelligence, timing, and well-used strength.
Additionally, there's an idea I really like: during the Grand Magic Games arc, Acnologia appearing after sensing the presence of dragons—and, unlike many confrontations so far, Natsu simply taking a massive beating. Because Acnologia isn't just strong; he's an absolute monster, and some defeats are necessary to keep the world feeling believable.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
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