AN: Bonus chapter for reaching 1k collections. Enjoy!
The tension crackled in the air as Aurelius and Gajeel squared off. The moonlight illuminated their forms, casting long shadows across the quiet streets of Magnolia. For a moment, the world seemed to still, as if holding its breath before the storm.
Aurelius's expression was stern, his eyes sharp and calculating. He held his sword, the edge gleaming in the moonlight, and his stance was solid, every muscle in his body prepared for the battle ahead. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the night air with a cold precision.
Gajeel's laughter rang out in the night, harsh and mocking. He grinned wide, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. "I'll destroy every last one of you, starting with your precious guild members!"
Without another word, Gajeel lunged forward, his metal fists raised, ready to strike.
But Aurelius was already gone.
Gajeel paused for a split second, his eyes scanning the area. "Huh? Where'd you go?" His voice was filled with irritation, but his instincts were on high alert now, his body coiling like a spring. "Come on out, I know you're still here!"
Aurelius's presence had completely vanished from the physical world, but Gajeel's magic sense quickly kicked in. The faintest trace of Aurelius's ethernano still lingered in the air, like a distant whisper, a small ripple that gave away his location. His eyes narrowed, and with a grin, Gajeel focused his magic sense to pinpoint the exact location.
But when he did, something strange happened.
The magic he had felt flickered for an instant—and then disappeared. Gajeel blinked, confusion creeping into his mind. His magic sense, suddenly went silent. The familiar hum of magic disappeared completely, and it was as if the very air around him had been stripped of all its energy. The world around him began to blur.
His vision darkened. It was as if someone had turned out the lights, and the once dark street was swallowed by a void of pitch-black darkness. His senses were no longer his own. His heart began to race as the buzzing in his ears became louder, a disorienting hum filling his head, drowning out everything else.
"What the—?" Gajeel growled, trying to clear his vision, but it was futile. He couldn't even hear his own voice as he spoke. "What's going on?!"
From the shadows, Aurelius's voice cut through the silence. His tone was calm, almost detached, yet there was an edge to it that was unmistakable.
"Your senses are mine now," Aurelius said, his voice a whisper in the dark. "Your magic sense, your vision, and even your hearing. You can't fight what you can't see or sense. Your next move will be your last."
Gajeel's frustration grew, and his fists clenched tighter, his body tensing as he tried to force his senses back into focus, but nothing worked. "You think this is gonna stop me?!" His voice was sharp, his anger rising. "I'll crush you!"
Aurelius's form reappeared in the darkness, his silhouette barely visible in the void, like a ghost flickering in and out of existence. He stood there with an air of unshakable confidence, his blade held loosely in his grip, as if the outcome of the battle was already decided.
"Perhaps you'll manage to land a hit. But can you fight what you can't perceive?" Aurelius asked, his eyes gleaming with the faintest hint of something dark.
Gajeel's chest heaved in frustration, his senses completely shut off from him. He wasn't used to this kind of handicap. But the more he fought against it, the worse it became. His ears rang, his vision remained obscured, and his magic sense was utterly useless.
"This is the end for you," Aurelius said, his voice a soft, chilling promise. And then, with blinding speed, he closed the distance, his sword aimed directly for Gajeel.
The air between Aurelius and Gajeel crackled with tension, as if the very atmosphere was charged by the clash of their willpower. Gajeel, gritting his teeth in frustration, felt the invisible grip on his senses tighten around him. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't even feel the flow of his magic properly. His muscles tensed, and with a roar of defiance, he summoned all of his strength, his magic surging within him like a tidal wave. Metal began to shift and expand around him, shaping itself into a thick, defensive armor. It coated him from head to toe, layers of iron forming around his body like a cocoon. His breathing was ragged, his eyes burning with fury beneath the metal, but he was determined to fight on.
Aurelius watched this transformation with a calm, detached expression, his eyes cold as ever. His hand twitched, and his blade gave a silver color. He didn't rush, taking a deliberate step forward, savoring the moment. Gajeel was encased in a heavy shell of iron, looking almost invincible. But Aurelius knew better. He wasn't here to play games.
With a swift flick of his wrist, Aurelius slashed through the air. The blade hummed, and in an instant, the armor Gajeel had so desperately formed was no longer an obstacle. The metal shattered like glass under the sheer force of Aurelius' strike. With one clean movement, the iron covering him was sliced open, revealing Gajeel's startled face as he felt his shield shatter, the armor's fragments spilling onto the ground.
Gajeel stumbled back, wide-eyed and exposed, his body now vulnerable. He gasped for breath, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. His hand went instinctively to his side, trying to cover his chest, but there was no armor left to shield him. He scowled at where he thought Aurelius was, anger flashing in his eyes as he struggled to find his footing.
"Stop playing dirty! Quit using these weak tricks!," Gajeel spat, his voice low and thick with frustration. His pride was shattered along with his armor, and he could feel the sting of defeat already pressing in on him. His heart pounded in his chest, his fists clenched in rage. He was a warrior, and here he was—defenseless, facing an opponent who fought with nothing but cunning and precision.
Aurelius didn't blink. His expression remained unreadable, even as Gajeel's words tried to provoke him. "You started playing dirty the moment you attacked the guild," Aurelius replied coldly, his voice a smooth whisper of disdain. He stepped closer, the tip of his blade gleaming with the energy of his ethernano, its aura pulsing with lethal intent.
He raised his blade, the ethernano surrounding it intensifying with a surge of power. The energy crackled, ready to strike. Aurelius was about to deliver the blow that would end the fight, to finish what had started when Phantom Lord dared to attack Fairy Tail. He could feel the weight of the moment, the finality of his decision to end it now, when suddenly-
A drop of rain splashed against his cheek.
Aurelius froze, his body instinctively pulling back. The rain had arrived quickly, as if the heavens themselves were reacting to the battle below. But it wasn't the rain that caught his attention—it was the sudden, surge of energy that he felt in the air. Two strong presences. Not just strong, but dangerous. His eyes flickered to the horizon as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Gajeel, still reeling from the loss of his armor and the devastating blow to his pride, looked around, confused by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. His senses were still rattled, but there was no mistaking the presence of danger. He smirked through the rain, his defiance still burning in his eyes. "What the hell is happening you trickster?!" he said through gritted teeth, his body still ready to fight, despite his weakened state.
But before Aurelius could react, the rain began to pour harder, as if the sky itself was preparing for something bigger than the battle between him and Gajeel. The cold water soaked into Aurelius' cloak, dripping from the edges, but his mind was already elsewhere. He was no longer focused on Gajeel. Whoever was approaching, he would need to be prepared. The fight could escalate far beyond what either of them had anticipated.
Then, as he stood in the rain-soaked clearing, the spot where he had just been standing began to shift. The earth beneath him trembled, and suddenly, a massive spike shot up from the ground where he is. It rose from the soil with a dangerous hiss, its jagged end cutting through the air like a spear. Aurelius' eyes widened in surprise, but he reacted instantly, twisting his body mid-air to avoid the spike as it impaled the spot he had just vacated.
His senses screamed at him to be cautious—this wasn't just Gajeel. There were others. Someone was manipulating the terrain, making it more dangerous by the second. Aurelius quickly regained his footing, his feet landing with precision, and his hand tightened around the blade he still held. He surveyed the area carefully, his every muscle tensed, prepared for an ambush. He was used to dealing with uncertainty, but the presence of new opponents was a shift he hadn't expected.
Before he could make a move, the ground near the edge of the clearing shifted again. A shadow moved in the corner of his vision, and then two figures appeared through the heavy rain.
Aurelius' eyes narrowed as they emerged from the rain, the female figure holding an umbrella, her expression unreadable behind the veil of rainwater. The umbrella shielded her from the downpour. There was something unsettling about her, something that made the air feel colder.
"Drip, drip, drop," she said, her voice soft but continuous, as if it was the only thing she could say. It echoed in the stillness of the rain-soaked surroundings, an eerie chant that sent a shiver down Aurelius' spine.
The male figure standing beside her was just as unnerving. His posture was relaxed, but there was an undeniable menace radiating from him, his eyes glinting with unspoken threat. Aurelius couldn't place them, but their presence was unmistakable—they weren't just random mages, and they had arrived at exactly the wrong moment.
Aurelius' thoughts raced. He knew better than to underestimate anyone, especially in a situation like this. His hands tightened on his blade even more, but for the first time in this battle, he wasn't the one in control of the situation.
The woman continued her rhythmic chant, her words growing more haunting as she repeated them, her umbrella almost seeming to shimmer with a strange power. The rain around them seemed to intensify with her every word, a supernatural coldness settling in.
"Drip, drip, drop..." She said again, as if daring the rain itself to answer.
Aurelius' sharp gaze flicked to her, then to the male figure beside her, and finally back to Gajeel, still without his senses.
Aurelius' gaze hardened as the two figures fully stepped into view, and his senses sharpened immediately. He finally recognized them, these were the Elemental 4 of Phantom Lord, and their presence brought with it a dangerous weight. He quickly assessed the situation, trying to read their movements, their intentions.
First, the woman—the one holding an umbrella, her stance almost dainty despite the harsh rain that had intensified around them. Juvia, the Water Mage of Phantom Lord, also known as Juvia of the Great Sea. The aura of strength around her was unmistakable. Her presence alone suggested she was far more than a simple mage. The rain was not her doing, but it seemed to be her element nonetheless, her energy palpable in the air.
Beside her, another figure stood. Sol, the Earth Mage of the Elemental 4. His presence surprisingly didn't radiate strength. His eyes flickered with an inner determination, and every movement he made seemed to resonate with the earth itself. This was a mage who could manipulate the very ground, turning it into a weapon capable of crushing anyone in his path.
The realization struck like a thunderclap—these were not just casual enemies. These were key figures of Phantom Lord's strength, the ones who could potentially make or break the conflict.
Aurelius remained poised, his focus sharp as ever, his eyes scanning both Sol and Juvia with cold intensity. The rain continued to fall in a steady stream, drenching the battleground. His blade hummed with an undercurrent of energy, waiting for his next move, but then, a voice—smooth, almost cultured—interrupted his thoughts.
"Ah, Monsieur Aurelius," Sol began, his voice smooth and syrupy. "The famous Master of Deceit, the elusive Spectre and Mirage. It is truly an honor to be in your presence." He gave a small bow, not in reverence, but in a mocking display of politeness. "Your reputation precedes you. I must say, your skills are beyond impressive, even among those with the finest of magical talents. And I must congratulate you for your recent promotion to S-class."
Aurelius' eyes narrowed, but he didn't let his guard down. He knew this was nothing more than flattery meant to buy time, a trick to lower his defenses. But he remained still, his grip tight around his blade as he watched Sol with a calculating gaze. "Spare me the compliments," Aurelius said, his voice steady, yet tinged with an edge of annoyance. "I'm not interested in idle flattery, especially not from someone like you."
Sol's smile didn't falter. "Ah, but Monsieur, it is only my deep respect for your abilities that compels me to speak so. After all, you have mastered the very art of illusion, an art so… deceptive." He chuckled lightly, as though his words were nothing more than a playful jest. "But perhaps, it is your expertise that allows you to deceive even yourself, non?"
Aurelius clenched his jaw, feeling the words hanging in the air, mocking him, but he didn't react. He had heard worse. Sol's theatrics were only a distraction so he raised his blade, ready to strike.
Sol raised a hand in mock despair as he saw Aurelius' movement, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "Non, non, non! You misunderstand, Monsieur. You see, we come here not to fight, but to negotiate." His eyes glinted with a dark edge. "Spare Gajeel, and we will leave the rest of your precious guildmates unharmed. The Shadow Gear, as you call them, will be left untouched."
The situation, however, had quickly grown dire when Juvia moved, stepping forward and positioning herself infront of Levy. The sight of Levy, unconscious and vulnerable, ignited a darker fire in Aurelius. His hand tightened on his sword.
Sol's gaze shifted, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "Now, Monsieur, you have a choice." He looked at Aurelius with a calculated, almost condescending look. "Release Gajeel from your… alteration, and we will take him and leave. The shadow gear will be fine, and we shall depart in peace. Surely, that is not too much to ask, oui?"
Aurelius stood motionless for a moment, the weight of Sol's words pressing on him. The truth of the situation was impossible to ignore—Levy, Droy, and Jet's life, the lives of his guildmates, and Gajeel's fate now hung in a delicate balance.
He could not risk their safety. He could not risk their lives. With a sigh, Aurelius' voice was low but firm. "I will release Gajeel once you take him away." His gaze remained sharp, never leaving Sol's eyes. "You'll leave, and then I'll release him."
Sol's eyes flickered with irritation, though his smile remained in place. "Ah, non non non, Monsieur Aurelius, you misunderstand. You should release him now. There is no need for further games."
Aurelius' gaze darkened, his grip on his sword tightening. "Stop pretending, Sol," he said coldly, his voice carrying the weight of his truth. "You know as well as I do that my sense alteration won't work at a distance. As soon as you move far enough, it will stop. You know this, and yet you expect me to play along with your little charade?"
For a brief moment, Sol's smile faltered, and a glint of recognition passed between them. The truth had been spoken. Sol knew exactly what Aurelius was talking about—the fact that his sense manipulation couldn't affect someone if they were too far away. That distance rendered Aurelius' powers useless, a crack in his otherwise perfect control.
Sol's laughter filled the air, echoing with amusement, though there was no warmth in it. "Ah, Monsieur, you are quite the astute one. I see you are not easily fooled." He paused, the amusement fading into something more calculating. "Very well. I will take Gajeel now, and you may release him when we leave."
"However, Monsieur Aurelius," he continued, his voice smooth and silky, "I must warn you, I would not try to play any tricks. Not with me, nor with anyone else in my presence." His smile widened as he took a deliberate step forward, his words deliberate, laced with the bite of a threat. "You see, if you were to, how do you say… manipulate our senses, I assure you, it will have consequences. Afterall, as of this moment, mademoiselle Juvia restricted her magic sense as to not sense you. She will know."
Aurelius' gaze darkened. He didn't need to ask what Sol meant, and the warning didn't go unnoticed. Sol's next words only confirmed his suspicions.
"If there is a single move you make, an illusion, or an attempt to alter our senses…" Sol's smile sharpened into something far more sinister. "An earth spike will pierce or a sudden burst of water will drown the Shadow Gear—those helpless little cibles of yours." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I wouldn't want any of them to meet an unfortunate fate, non?"
Aurelius' eyes flared with the faintest hint of anger, the subtle threat aimed at Shadow Gear striking home like a venomous dart. His mind raced, trying to calculate the risks, but the coldness of Sol's voice kept him grounded.
Still, Aurelius remained silent. His lips barely moved as he responded in an ice-cold tone, "I won't play tricks. But don't mistake my restraint for weakness." His eyes never left Sol, the glint in them warning that any further harm to the guild or its members would be met with more than just caution.
Sol chuckled softly, stepping back, clearly pleased with his own calculated threat. "I do admire your strength, Monsieur Aurelius, but let us not forget: the moment I make my move, it will be irreversible." He flicked a hand dismissively toward the unconscious Shadow Gear, his tone returning to that over-polished, exaggerated politeness. "I am certain you would not want their deaths on your conscience."
Aurelius stood motionless, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to spring into action. His thoughts were racing, but he couldn't afford to show any weakness now—not when the lives of Shadow Gear and the balance of power in this fight were hanging by a thread.
Sol watched him carefully, as if savoring the tension between them, before turning back to Juvia and giving a nod. "Let us take our leave then, Mademoiselle."
With a gesture from Sol, Juvia stepped forward and gently held Gajeel who was still unaware of the entire exchange. The sight of his helplessness twisted something inside Aurelius, but he held firm, knowing that this was the only way.
Sol gave a gracious bow, the mockery still present in his posture. "It has been a… fascinating conversation, Monsieur Aurelius. I must say, I look forward to our next encounter. But for now, we will take our leave." He spoke with a touch of finality, his voice laced with a quiet, dangerous promise.
Aurelius stood tall, his eyes locked on Sol and Juvia, his face an emotionless mask. "Get him out of here. And don't come back."
Sol nodded slightly, his voice soft but filled with mock admiration. "As you wish, Monsieur Aurelius. You are a man of principle, I can see that. Perhaps our next meeting will be… less antagonistic." He winked, his words laced with playful malice.
With that, Sol and Juvia began to retreat, Gajeel in their grasp. Aurelius stood silently, his senses shifting to watch them.
For now, the fight had ended. But the war? That was far from over.
Bonus Chapter:
76/100 Power stones
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Chapter Titles:
25: Breaking Point
26: Shadows of Desperation
27: Shadows of War