Chapter 96: Battle for Fairy Tail VIII - Dragon Force
The air inside the cathedral had become a furnace. Stone glowed red where Natsu's feet had passed. The wooden pews had long since turned to ash, their remnants floating through the superheated air like dark snow. Even the shadows seemed to burn, retreating from the light of the dragon slayer who stood at the center of the destruction.
Laxus raised his hands. Lightning arced between his fingers, yellow and furious, a desperate defense against the thing that was walking toward him. He had faced enemies before. He had crushed them all. But this was different. This was not the Natsu he had knocked unconscious with a single bolt. This was something else.
"Dragon Force," Laxus said, tasting the words like poison. "You think that will save you."
Natsu did not answer. His eyes were gold, slitted, ancient. Scales rippled across his arms and chest, dark and red, catching the light of his own flames. His scarf remained untouched, white and perfect, a ghost of the boy he had been.
He moved.
The space between them vanished. Laxus barely had time to react before Natsu's fist connected with his ribs. The impact was not a punch. It was a detonation. Laxus flew sideways, crashing through a stone pillar, the column exploding into dust and debris. He hit the far wall and kept going, his body carving a trench through the ancient stone.
He pushed himself up, blood dripping from his mouth, and looked across the cathedral. Natsu was already there. Not running. Not flying. Simply there, as if the distance had never existed.
Laxus swung his arm. Lightning shot from his palm, a concentrated beam of yellow energy aimed at Natsu's chest. Natsu did not dodge. He raised his hand and caught the lightning.
The electricity crackled around his fingers, burning, searing, trying to find purchase in his skin. Natsu's arm shook. His teeth clenched. Smoke rose from his palm. But he held on. He pulled the lightning toward him, drawing it into his body, absorbing it the way he had absorbed fire a hundred times before.
Gajeel, still on the ground near the broken pillar, stared in disbelief. "He is eating lightning. He is actually eating lightning."
Laxus's eyes went wide. "Impossible."
Natsu opened his mouth. The lightning he had absorbed crackled on his tongue, yellow and wild, before he swallowed it down. His flames flared brighter. The scales on his arms seemed to darken, to harden, to become something more than skin.
"Fire Dragon's Iron Fist," Natsu said.
His fist, wreathed in orange flame, slammed into Laxus's chest. The impact sent Laxus flying again, this time through the cathedral doors, out onto the steps beyond. Wood and iron shattered around him. He tumbled across the stone, leaving a trail of blood and scorch marks, and came to a stop at the edge of the square.
He pushed himself up. His coat was gone. His shirt was shredded. His chest was a mess of burns and bruises. He had never been hurt like this. Not by anyone. Not ever.
Natsu walked through the shattered doors, his feet crunching on the debris. The flames around him had not diminished. They had grown, a corona of orange fire that licked at the sky and melted the stone beneath his feet.
"Get up," Natsu said. His voice was calm, almost gentle. "We are not done yet."
Laxus roared. Lightning exploded from his body in all directions, a storm of yellow energy that shattered the remaining windows, cracked the walls of the cathedral, and sent chunks of stone flying across the square. He rose into the air, his body crackling with power, his eyes blazing with rage.
"You want to see real power," he said. "I will show you real power."
He raised his hands above his head. The lightning gathered between them, building and building, a sphere of pure energy that hummed with the force of a thunderstorm. He brought his hands down and the lightning shot toward Natsu, not as a bolt but as a wave, a cascade of destruction that filled the square from end to end.
Natsu ran toward it.
His feet left the ground. The flames around him pushed against the lightning, parting it, deflecting it, carving a path through the storm. He was running on air, on fire, on the sheer force of his will. The lightning struck him, again and again, but he did not stop. He could not stop.
He reached Laxus and drove his fist into the lightning dragon slayer's stomach. Laxus doubled over, the air exploding from his lungs. Natsu followed with an uppercut to the jaw, then a knee to the chest, then a spinning kick that sent Laxus crashing into the cathedral wall.
Laxus hit the stone and kept going, his body punching through the wall and into the interior of the cathedral. Natsu followed, his flames lighting the darkness, his eyes fixed on his target.
They landed in the nave, where the pews had once stood and where nothing remained but ash and memory. Laxus pushed himself up, his body screaming, his magic flickering. He had never faced an opponent like this. He had never been pushed so far.
"Fire Dragon's Claw," Natsu said.
His leg swept through the air, wreathed in flame, and connected with Laxus's side. The impact lifted Laxus off his feet and sent him crashing through three pillars before he finally stopped. Stone rained down around him. Dust filled the air. He lay in the rubble, gasping, bleeding, broken.
But he was not done.
He pushed himself up, his arms shaking, his legs shaking, his whole body shaking. The lightning around him flickered, dimmed, then flared again. He was not going to give up. He was never going to give up.
"You are strong," Laxus said. His voice was ragged, barely a whisper. "Stronger than I expected."
Natsu walked toward him. "You have no idea."
Laxus raised his hand. Lightning shot from his palm, a desperate attack aimed at Natsu's face. Natsu tilted his head. The lightning passed by his ear, close enough to singe his hair, close enough to burn his skin. He did not flinch.
"Fire Dragon's Sword Horn," he said.
He lowered his head and charged. His body became a spear, his flames forming a blade that cut through the air. Laxus tried to dodge, but the blade caught his shoulder, carving a deep gash through his skin and muscle. He screamed, stumbling back, his hand pressed against the wound.
Blood poured through his fingers. His arm hung limp at his side. He could not raise it. He could not fight.
But he could still stand.
He raised his other hand. Lightning gathered at his fingertips, weaker than before, but still dangerous. He aimed it at Natsu's chest and fired.
Natsu caught the lightning again. This time, it did not burn him. This time, he absorbed it instantly, the yellow energy vanishing into his flames like water into sand. He opened his mouth and exhaled. A stream of fire, hot and bright, shot toward Laxus.
Laxus threw himself to the side, barely avoiding the blast. The fire struck the wall behind him and melted it, stone flowing like water, pooling on the floor in glowing rivers. He looked at the destruction, at the impossibility of it, and something inside him cracked.
Natsu was on him again. Fist after fist, kick after kick, each blow landing with the force of a meteor. Laxus blocked what he could, dodged what he could, but he could not stop them all. A punch to his ribs. A kick to his knee. An elbow to his jaw. He was being dismantled piece by piece, and there was nothing he could do.
He swung wildly, his fist connecting with Natsu's face. Natsu's head snapped to the side. Blood flew from his lip. He turned back, his golden eyes fixed on Laxus, and smiled.
"That was a good hit," he said. "My turn."
He grabbed Laxus by the collar and lifted him off the ground. His flames spread from his hands to Laxus's coat, igniting the fabric, burning the skin beneath. Laxus screamed, thrashing, trying to break free. Natsu held him tighter.
"Fire Dragon Secret Art," Natsu said. "Exploding Flame Blade."
His free hand formed a blade of fire, condensed and sharp, the edges white with heat. He drove it into Laxus's chest.
The explosion was deafening. A column of fire rose from the cathedral, piercing the sky, visible across the entire city. The shockwave shattered the remaining windows, cracked the walls, and sent debris flying for blocks. When the fire faded, Laxus lay on the ground, his body smoking, his chest a ruin of burns and blood.
Natsu stood over him, breathing hard, his flames flickering. He was not done. He could feel it. Laxus was not done either.
Laxus pushed himself up. His arm was useless. His chest was burned. His legs were barely holding him. But he stood, and he faced Natsu, and he raised his good hand.
"Lightning Dragon," he said. "Roar."
A stream of yellow energy shot from his mouth, wide and wild, filling the nave from end to end. Natsu did not dodge. He opened his mouth and inhaled.
The lightning poured into him, down his throat, into his chest, into the furnace that was his soul. He drank it like water, consumed it like fire, absorbed it like the dragon he was becoming. His body shook. His flames flickered. But he did not stop.
When the roar ended, Natsu stood in the center of the destruction, his body crackling with residual electricity, his eyes brighter than ever.
"You are insane," Laxus said.
Natsu smiled. "Probably."
He raised his hand. Flames gathered around his fingers, not orange but white, hot enough to melt the air itself. "Fire Dragon Secret Art. Phoenix Blade."
The flame condensed, sharpened, became a blade of pure light. Natsu swung it toward Laxus.
Laxus threw himself to the side. The blade passed through the space where he had been and struck the wall behind him. The stone did not crack. It did not shatter. It ceased to exist, vaporized by the heat, leaving a hole that looked out onto the square beyond.
Laxus stared at the hole, at the impossibility of it, and felt something he had never felt before. Fear.
Natsu turned to face him. The flames around him had not diminished. They had grown, a corona of orange and white that filled the nave with light. His eyes were gold, slitted, ancient. He was not a man anymore. He was a dragon.
"Get up," Natsu said.
Laxus pushed himself up. His body was broken. His magic was spent. His pride was in ruins. But he stood, and he faced the dragon, and he raised his good hand.
Lightning gathered at his fingertips, weak and flickering. He aimed it at Natsu's chest.
"Do it," Natsu said. "Give me everything you have."
Laxus fired.
The lightning struck Natsu in the chest and vanished, absorbed like all the others. Natsu did not flinch. He did not move. He stood in the light of the dying storm and waited.
Laxus's arm fell to his side. He had nothing left. No lightning. No magic. No hope.
Natsu walked toward him. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, the footsteps of a man who had already won. He stopped in front of Laxus, close enough to touch, close enough to kill.
"You are strong," Natsu said. "Stronger than most. But strength is not enough. It has never been enough."
He raised his fist. The flames around it condensed, compressed, became a sphere of pure energy that hummed with the power to end worlds.
Laxus closed his eyes.
The blow never came.
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Next Time: Battle for Fairy Tail IX - The Lightning Falls