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DW DXD Chapter 60 Fire Training
🕑 Added 2025-08-28 07:28:38 +0000 UTC“Come on already!” Natsu yelled, practically dragging Issei by the arm through the forest like an impatient younger brother. Happy hovered beside them, wings buzzing, a bag of fish dangling in his mouth.
Branches snapped under their feet as Natsu marched forward with the enthusiasm of a child heading to a festival. Issei, on the other hand, looked more like a man being hauled to the gallows, his heels digging into the dirt with every step.
“Oi, oi, oi—slow down already! Do you have any idea how heavy I am?!” Issei barked, stumbling as Natsu kept a vice-like grip on his wrist. “I’m not some little kid you can just haul around like a sack of potatoes! And you're acting like I’m about to miss my wedding or something!”
“Stop whining!” Natsu grinned over his shoulder, unfazed. “This is important! You said you wanted to learn Dragon Slayer magic, right? Well, this is where we will start and I’m not letting you chicken out now.”
“Chicken out?! I just finished building a house, man! I deserve to rest and a nap!”
“Training is more important than naps!”
Happy flapped along overhead, chuckling. “Aye, sir! Stop fall behind, Issei!”
Issei groaned, casting a longing look behind him toward the distant direction of the lake house. ‘I just finished moving into my own home… and now I’m stuck with Natsu and his flying cat. Perfect.’
—--------------------------------------
After pushing through a thicker patch of trees, the forest abruptly gave way to a wide clearing surrounded by stone cliffs.
And there it stood.
A run-down, worn-out building with a crooked, messy roof patched haphazardly with wood and stone, a chimney awkwardly sticking out from the top. Two lopsided windows. The smaller section of the house leaned dangerously to one side as if it might collapse. Cracks ran along the outer walls, most of them disorderly patched with flat metal plates that looked like they’d been hammered in place during a fit of frustration rather than craftsmanship.
In front of the house stretched a dirt path framed by small bushes that were surprisingly well-trimmed, leading to the entrance. And the cherry on top:
A sign, vaguely shaped like Happy’s head, with crude handwriting that read: “Natsu & Happy”, an arrow pointing proudly toward the house.
Issei froze, his jaw dropping. “…What the hell is this?”
Happy puffed his chest out proudly. “Our home!”
Natsu grinned like it was the grandest mansion in Fiore. “Pretty great, huh? We decorated it ourselves!”
Issei’s eye twitched. “Decorated? This place looks like it’s one push away from collapsing! Even my dad could've made something sturdier than this! Also does our surroundings look like a graveyard.”
“Shut it!” Natsu barked, cheeks puffing. “This is our house, and it’s perfect! You’ll be staying here until you learn Fire Dragon Slayer magic!”
Issei blinked, then rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache forming. “You’re telling me… I left behind my brand new, three-story mansion with hot springs, a workshop, and my harem… for this shack?!”
Natsu ignored the jab completely, throwing the door open so hard it almost came off its hinges. “C’mon in! Make yourself at home!”
The smell of smoke, ash, and something distinctly fishy hit Issei’s nose immediately. He gagged. “Dear god… what died in here?”
Happy fluttered down and set a paw on his hip. “That’s our dinner from two nights ago. Don’t worry about it!”
Issei covered his face with both hands. ‘I’m going to die here… either from food poisoning or from loneliness.’
—--------------------------------------------------
Natsu kicked open the door like a proud landlord showing off a mansion. “Here it is, Issei! This is where we’ll be sleeping while you train.”
Issei stepped inside, Happy floating past him, and immediately froze.
“…The hell am I looking at?”
The contrast was almost dizzying. Right outside the door sat a surprisingly neat, fish-shaped doormat with the word Welcome stitched cheerfully across it. But beyond that?
Chaos.
A small rectangular table in the center was stacked with dirty dishes, chipped bowls, and pots filled with what could only be described as biological warfare. Two lopsided sofas flanked it, one of which had a massive chest of drawers resting diagonally across it, its drawers hanging open like broken jaws.
The stove in the corner looked like it had survived a volcanic eruption, soot and ash smeared across its surface. And then there was the “bed”, two patched-up hammocks sagging between the ceiling beam and a tree that literally grew up through the floor, sprouting through the roof. Ragged pillows spilled from it, a torn blanket dangling like a surrender flag.
Issei’s eye twitched. “This place looks like a mess.”
The lighting wasn’t any better. A chandelier hung over the mess, one of its links snapped, leaving the fixture tilting dangerously. The floor was littered with random junk: a barbell that looked carved from stone, loose gears, a broken training dummy with “Erza” scribbled above its crooked face, and—of all things—a bizarre toy saddle with pedals, a chair, and a steering wheel, kept upright on a giant spring like some demented carnival ride.
“Do you… live in this?” Issei whispered in disbelief.
Natsu grinned. “Pretty cool, huh?”
Happy flapped down onto the sofa that wasn’t crushed, patting the cushion proudly. “It’s cozy once you get used to it!”
“Cozy?” Issei muttered. But then, as his eyes roamed over the mess, something caught his attention.
Amid the wreckage, there was something completely organized. A shelf along the far wall, carefully dusted and neatly arranged. Trinkets, small tokens, and curiosities sat there, a collection of random items that unlike the rest of the house, each item was cared for meticulously.
Issei stepped closer, drawn in despite himself. He noticed a maid outfit prepared carefully. And Issei, being Issei, immediately compared them to his mental catalog of every girl he’d met. Definitely Lucy, he realized with a smirk.
Pinned alongside it were various job request bulletins, each carefully preserved. Some were water-stained, others frayed at the corners, but every single one had a note or memory scribbled beside it.
One stood out.
The request about Everlue and the DAYBREAK book. A note was scrawled on it in bold, uneven writing: Our first job with Lucy Heartfilia.
Issei raised an eyebrow, turning to Natsu. “Oi Natsu, what’s all this?”
Natsu puffed up his chest, grinning proudly. “These are my treasures!” He pounded a fist against his chest. “Stuff from all my quests and adventures. Me and Happy like to collect something from every job. Helps us remember where we’ve been!”
Happy nodded with a smile. “Aye! Every one of those things means something!”
Issei looked back at the shelf, lips quirking into a grin. “Huh. So you must really like Lucy, huh?”
“Of course!” Natsu answered immediately, without hesitation.
Issei blinked. “…Wait. No, I mean you really LIKE her!.”
“Yeah!” Natsu beamed, completely oblivious. “She’s our teammate, and she’s always been there for us. Why wouldn’t I like her?”
Issei stared, slack-jawed. “…You seriously don’t even realize it, do you?”
Happy tilted his head. “Realize what?”
“Never mind,” Issei muttered, running a hand down his face.
But as he looked back at that shelf, something stirred inside him. Watching Natsu’s unshakable pride in those keepsakes—seeing the warmth and meaning etched into every little object—it made something click.
For just a moment, Issei felt a pang of something odd in his chest. Something he hadn’t expected.
‘…I want something similar like this too.’ He realized quietly. ‘I want a giant pile of treasure full of memories like this. Plus things worth keeping. What do you think, Ddraig?’
(It’s common for dragons to start collecting things which we think are valuable. Who knows you might obtain quite the impressive horde)
He clenched his fist, determination flickering in his eyes.
“Alright,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Let’s get started, Natsu. Teach me how to burn like a Dragon Slayer.”
Natsu’s grin widened into something feral, his eyes alight with flame.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
—--------------------------------------
Natsu and Issei were now outside and around them was a large fire pit that Natsu uses to practice his spells.
Natsu then spun around and jabbed a finger at Issei. “Alright! From today on, you’re my student! I’ll teach you everything about Fire Dragon Slayer magic until you’re tough enough to burn a forest!”
Issei perked up slightly despite his disgust with the house. “But are you actually gonna teach me? Or are you just going to throw fire at me and tell me to figure it out?”
“Of course!” Natsu’s grin widened. “That’s lesson two. The first lesson is Dragon Slayer magic isn’t just about casting spells. It’s about being the dragon. Breathing fire, eating fire, living fire. But for now get ready.”
“Wait, what’s lesson three—”
Natsu suddenly breathed in deep, his chest swelling. Issei’s eyes widened in horror.
“Oh no. Oh no, no, no—”
“FIRE DRAGON ROAR!”
A torrent of flames blasted through the opening, reducing anything that was in the way to charred splinters.
Happy clapped his paws together cheerfully. “Good start, Natsu! Now Issei just has to survive.!”
Issei continued to run in fear that he would get seriously burned. “I should’ve stayed with the girls!”
—---------------------------------------
Back at the Hyoudou House
The great Hyoudou Mansion was finally alive. Furniture stood proudly in every room, the library shelves were full, the dojo smelled of fresh tatami, and the kitchen gleamed with polished cookware. Upstairs, Sakura squealed happily as Miki and Gorou sat cross-legged on the floor of her new playroom, indulging her every demand to “play shop,” “be the customer,” or “fly plushies through the air.”
Downstairs, in the grand living room, a much different scene played out.
On two long, plush couches sat Tamamo, Yuuka, Misuki, Miya, Matsu, Uzume, Akitsu, Yashima, and Karasuba. For once, they weren’t bickering. Instead, every pair of eyes glimmered with a mix of determination and irritation.
And it all began with a single sigh.
Miya, serene as ever, set down her teacup and looked across the group. “So. Uzume, you placed the king-sized bed in Issei’s room as I asked?”
Uzume leaned back, arms folded. “Yeah. It’s there. Took three people to haul it up the stairs, but it’s in.”
“Good.” Miya’s lips curved faintly. “That will suffice.”
“Still,” Yashima murmured, her cheeks flushed as she looked down at her lap. “We finally have our own rooms now… our own space for privacy. Isn’t it time we… discussed the order?”
Every head turned toward her.
Matsu’s grin widened, and in a flourish she pulled out a folded chart from her sleeve. “Funny you should say that, Yashima. I anticipated this exact conversation!”
She spread it out on the table, revealing a meticulously detailed schedule, complete with columns, color-coding, and footnotes.
Yashima’s eyes went wide, her face going crimson. “W-wait… I-I’m… Fourth?!”
“Indeed,” Matsu said proudly. “A statistically fair placement considering seniority, emotional development, and—”
“Why the hell didn’t we just start this earlier?!” Karasuba cut in, glaring at the chart like it had personally insulted her especially since shes second to dead last. “We didn’t need some damn list. If we wanted him, we could’ve just jumped him. But noooo—someone had to make him keep that stupid promise, Yuuka.”
Yuuka bristled, slamming her hands on the table again. “It wasn’t stupid! It was sweet and heartwarming! He promised me I’d be his first, and he kept it!”
Uzume snorted, folding her arms. “Sweet? It was unfair! The rest of us had to sit around twiddling our thumbs while you got a head start.”
Akitsu gave a small, quiet nod. “…Unfair.”
Yashima, still bright red, fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “…Yes. But… it was still romantic.”
Yuuka puffed her cheeks. “See?! Mom, tell them it was sweet!”
Misuki placed a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder, smiling softly. “I do think it was sweet, Yuuka. A little selfish, perhaps, but sweet nonetheless.”
“Exactly!” Yuuka shouted, sticking her tongue out at Uzume.
Karasuba leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm with a predatory smirk. “Or… hear me out. Why don’t we all just take him together? Skip this nonsense and break him in properly. I guarantee he won't last five minutes.”
Yashima’s face turned beet-red. “K-Karasuba!”
Miya’s brownish-red eyes narrowed sharply. “Because unlike you, not everyone is so vulgar. Some of us prefer intimacy and privacy. We want him focused on us as individuals, not… drowned in a pile.”
Matsu raised her hand. “For the record, I don’t actually mind the group idea. But… for my first time, I’d like something a little special. Candlelight, mood lighting, the whole works. Then after that, sure, pile on.”
Then Yuuka, who had been scanning the chart again, suddenly shot to her feet.
“Wait a damn second! Why am I last?!”
Every girl glared at her at once.
Tamamo’s tails flared, her voice sharp as she snapped, “Because unlike the rest of us, you already had your first time! You’ve had your fill!”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Yuuka shouted back, face red with fury. “And don’t act like I don’t have needs too!”
“Needs,” Uzume muttered, rolling her eyes.
Akitsu, deadpan as always, whispered, “…Greedy.”
Miya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Order or no order, this bickering is tiresome. The fact remains: each of us deserves a moment alone with him. That is not up for debate.”
In the end, despite Yuuka’s shouting and Karasuba’s dangerous suggestions, the chart remained unchanged.
Matsu folded it neatly, sliding it back into her hammer space with a self-satisfied smirk. “Excellent. Then it’s settled. The moment Issei comes back from Natsu’s little training camp… the real fun begins.”
The room fell into silence for a moment—until Uzume slammed her hands on the table.
“Damn that pink-haired idiot!” She snapped, cheeks puffed angrily. “Dragging Issei off before we even got to break the place in!”
A chorus of groans and muttered curses followed.
“This better not become a thing” Matsu huffed, adjusting her glasses. “It will ruin my careful planning.”
Karasuba cracked her knuckles, her crimson eyes narrowing. “If that Dragon Slayer doesn’t bring him back in one piece, I’ll carve his skin off and wear it as a scarf.”
“Calm yourself,” Tamamo said smoothly, tails flicking in agitation. “I also share your sentiment.” Her golden eyes narrowing. “I don’t like that dragon-boy dragging my darling off to play games either.”
Miya, calm as ever, set down a tray of rice balls. “He will come back. Until then, perhaps let’s try not to burn down the house.”
From the corner, Totomaru had just entered the living room and heard the last bit of the conversation and snorted. “You people are unbelievable. He left for a few days. Big deal.”
All eyes turned to him.
Karasuba’s grin sharpened. “Care to repeat that?”
The ex-Phantom Lord mage paled, raising his hands. “…Uh, I mean— Damn that Salamander, hope he dies.”
Everyone nodded, satisfied. Totomaru sighed in defeat.
—-----------------------------------------
“Alright… deep breath, focus, and…”
Issei puffed out his chest, cheeks swelling as he forced air down. For a split second, he felt the warmth flicker in his lungs, like a candle catching flame—
Then came the coughing.
Smoke burst from his mouth in a pathetic wheeze, and a stray spark popped out of his mouth. The cloth then caught instantly on fire with smoke curling upward as Issei yelped and slapped frantically at himself.
“HOT, HOT, HOT!” He yowled, rolling on the ground to snuff it out.
When the last wisp of smoke faded, he sat up with soot smeared across his face, hair sticking up in burned tufts. He let out a long groan while coughing. “…Okay. Lesson learned. Prepare yourself for the smoke.”
Natsu roared with laughter, doubling over as he slapped Issei’s back so hard it nearly sent him back to the ground. “Not bad! You didn’t internally combust!”
Happy clapped his little paws, wings fluttering in excitement. “Aye, sir! And you didn’t burn your eyebrows this time!”
Issei rubbed his forehead and sighed, staring at his singed clothes. “Great. I’m halfway to becoming a cartoon gag.”
But as he sat there, chest still hot from the misfire, something pulsed deep inside him. ‘Can I really learn this…?’ Issei thought, doubt creeping in despite himself.
That was when a familiar, rumbling voice answered him from within.
(It is possible… Partner.)
Ddraig’s deep tones resonated through his soulscape, steady and reassuring. (But it will take more practice. Remember: create a small flare within your chest. Then intake air, let it fuel the flame. Finally, release it in one swift burst. Too little air, and the flame won’t be big enough. Too much, and you risk burning yourself inside out.)
Issei’s brow furrowed, trying to picture it. ‘A flare in my chest, then feed it with air… then release. Thanks, Ddraig. You’re really helping me out—unlike some people.’ He shot a pointed glare at Natsu, who was now juggling fireballs for Happy’s amusement. The man’s entire “teaching method” so far had been: show, grin, repeat louder.
(Do not be so harsh.) Ddraig’s voice rumbled again. (The boy’s method is crude, but true Dragons learn by instinct, by feeling. Not by lectures.)
Issei huffed. ‘Yeah, well, instinct sucks when you’re coughing up smoke like a busted chimney.’
That was when a lighter, chiming voice joined in.
“Master,” Sherri’s voice echoed softly, the watch glowed as the AI spoke. “if you wish, I can assist. I can calculate airflow, heat distribution, and the optimal lung expansion necessary to ignite a sustainable flame. It would simplify the process—”
(No.) Ddraig’s interruption was sharp, final. (He must learn this himself. If he leans too much on you or me, he will never understand the true nature of it.)
Sherri pulsed indignantly. “But why handicap him? Efficiency demands—”
(Because strength is not efficiency.) Ddraig’s eyes gleamed, emerald and proud. (Strength is will. Fire answers only to those who claim it as their own. If he cannot tame even this spark without being spoon-fed, then he is not yet ready to wield it.)
Sherri fell silent, though her glow dimmed as if sulking.
Issei hearing what Ddraig said got himself to his feet, brushing ash from his arms. His chest still ached, but his eyes burned with determination.
“…Alright,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s try this again.”
Natsu tilted his head, watching as Issei inhaled slowly, focusing on the heat rising inside him. He still looked clumsy, but there was a different kind of resolve in his stance now.
Happy whispered to Natsu, “Do you think he can do it?”
Natsu smirked. “He will. He’s too stubborn not to.”
Issei clenched his fists. ‘No shortcuts. No half-assing. Just me.’
He drew in a sharp breath—
And fire flickered in his throat.
Not smoke this time.
Not sparks.
But a thin, wavering jet of flame that burst forward in a cough-like roar before sputtering out against the dirt.
It wasn’t much. Barely anything compared to Natsu’s towering infernos.
But it was fire.
Issei stared at the faint scorch mark on the ground, chest heaving.
Then, slowly, a grin spread across his soot-smeared face. “…Heh. Not bad for my first success, huh?”
Natsu’s grin widened. “There ya go!”
Happy flew a loop in excitement. “He did it! He really did it!”
Inside, Ddraig’s voice rumbled like distant thunder, satisfied. (Yes… that’s it, Partner. A first flame is always small. But with time, it can burn the world.)
Issei clenched his fist, fire still tingling faintly in his chest.
Issei wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, a goofy grin still tugging at his lips as he stared at the faint scorch mark he’d just made.
But then… silence.
Issei turned his head and froze.
Natsu wasn’t celebrating anymore. He stood there with his arms crossed, brows furrowed, his usual manic energy subdued by something far more unusual: a serious thought.
Issei blinked. “…Oi. What’s with that face? You look like you’re doing math or something.”
Natsu’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing slightly. “…It’s not right.”
“Huh?”
“The fire you spat out.” Natsu stepped closer, crouching down near the scorch mark. He dragged his finger across the dirt, sniffing faintly at the blackened soil. “It was fire. But it didn’t feel like Dragon Slayer fire.”
Issei tilted his head. “What’s that supposed to mean? Fire’s fire, right?”
Natsu shook his head firmly. “No. Dragon Slayer fire isn’t just heat. It carries the essence of a dragon.”
Happy bobbed in agreement. “Aye! When Natsu breathes fire, it shakes the ground. Yours was more like… a campfire that burped.”
Issei deadpanned. “…Thanks for that glowing review, cat.”
But before he could get too defensive, a deep rumble filled his ears.
(The boy is correct, Partner.)
Ddraig’s voice vibrated through Issei’s soul, heavy and thoughtful. (What you produced was ordinary fire. Strong, yes, but no more than a parlor trick compared to true Dragon Slayer magic. It lacks the draconic essence, the unique properties that distinguish Natsu’s flames. They do not carry the might of a dragon.)
Issei’s grin faded, replaced by a long sigh. “…So what you’re saying is, all I did was turn into a cheap lighter?”
“Pretty much!” Happy chirped.
“Damn it…” Issei rubbed his temples. “I thought I was getting somewhere.”
Natsu stood tall again, his fists clenching, his eyes burning with the fire that always seemed to simmer behind them. “You are getting somewhere. Don’t get me wrong—spitting any kind of fire on the second day is good, I think. But if you want to breathe flames that can shatter mountains? Flames that dragons would respect? Then you’ve still got a long way to go.”
Ddraig’s chuckle echoed faintly. (He is right. Dragon Slayer magic cannot be learned in a day.)
Issei slumped to the ground, groaning. “Ugh… back to practice it is.”
He leaned back on his hands, staring at the sky. “…Guess I shouldn’t expect to level up soon, huh?”
Natsu smirked, a spark flickering in his mouth as he exhaled a stream of flames into the air, the heat washing over Issei like a tidal wave. “Nope. But don’t worry. I’ll beat the Dragon Slayer into you one way or another!”
Happy grinned toothily. “More training time, aye!”
Issei groaned again, slapping his palm over his face. “…I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”
Inside, Ddraig rumbled with faint amusement. (Perhaps. But if you survive… you will rise as something far greater.)
Issei clenched his fists, looking at the faint scorch on the dirt again.
“…Alright. Then let’s keep going.”
—-----------------------------------------------------
Hyoudou Mansion
Dinner descended into chaos. Sakura wanted to sit in Issei’s chair, Matsu unveiled a bizarre Lacrima-powered rice cooker that exploded halfway through, and Tamamo nearly set Totomaru’s hair on fire when he complained about “slave labor food.”
But despite the bickering, laughter filled the house.
Miya watched it all with a small smile, folding her hands. ‘This is what he wanted, isn’t it? A family, noisy and warm.’
The newly finished dining room echoed with laughter, clattering bowls, and bickering voices. But once dinner was over and the night grew quiet, a strange mood settled over the lakeside home.
But Sakura sat in her chair, legs kicking beneath the table, her cheeks puffed with rice as her grandparents, Miki and Gorou, tried to coax her into eating her vegetables. She chewed happily, her eyes sparkling as she glanced at her pile of new toys set aside in the corner of the room.
But then, as the chatter around the table lulled, her small voice rang out like a dagger into the silence.
“...When’s Papa coming back?”
The room froze.
Yuuka nearly dropped her chopsticks. Uzume stopped mid-sip of her drink. Akitsu blinked, chopsticks hovering just short of her mouth. Even Karasuba paused in the middle of gnawing on a skewer.
Tamamo’s tails twitched, her golden eyes narrowing faintly before softening. Miya, poised as always, folded her hands in her lap, though even she couldn’t quite mask the faint flicker of sadness in her eyes.
Sakura looked around expectantly, blinking at the sudden quiet. “He said he was just going to train with Natsu, right? That means he should be back soon?”
Her innocent tone made the silence feel all the heavier.
“Daddy’s strong already,” Sakura said firmly, pouting as she hugged her plush fox doll. “Why does he need more training?” Miki leaned over to stroke her granddaughter’s hair gently.
Miya then spoke. “Because even the strong ones still need to grow, sweetheart.”
Karasuba nodded, though her tone carried a bite. “Still doesn’t excuse that pink-haired brat for dragging him away without asking first.”
“Agreed,” Tamamo said sharply, her voice smooth but edged. “If that idiot so much as burns a single hair on him…” her tails swished, their tips glowing faintly, “...I’ll make him regret it.”
Sakura’s eyes widened at the dangerous tone. “But Natsu’s Daddy’s friend, right?”
That silenced the table again.
Miya finally spoke again, her calm voice cutting through the tension. “Yes. And sometimes… a friend pushes you where you need to go, even if others don’t see it yet.” She set her cup down gently, looking at Sakura with a soft smile. “Your father will come back. Stronger than before. Of that, I have no doubt.”
Sakura looked reassured, nodding slowly before returning to her food.
But the girls… their expressions told another story.
Yuuka folded her arms, muttering darkly. “When he comes back, he’s making it up to us.”
Uzume and Yashima raise their glass. “Amen.”
Karasuba smirked, crimson eyes gleaming. “Or we just tie him down and make sure he doesn’t leave again.”
“Vulgar,” Miya chided softly, though she didn’t disagree.
Matsu’s grin widened. “I like her idea.”
Tamamo rolled her eyes, sipping her tea. “He’ll have his hands full regardless.”
As laughter and teasing slowly returned, Sakura giggled along, still clutching her plush, her innocent question lingering in the back of everyone’s minds.
Yuuka then stared into her cup, lips pressed into a thin line. “I think it’s time to start my training again.”
Uzume smirked, stretching across her chair. “What, afraid you’ll fall behind, Yuuka?”
Yuuka snapped her gaze up, cheeks faintly pink. “I’m not afraid of anything! I just don’t want him thinking we’re dead weight!”
Tamamo tilted her head, her tails flicking thoughtfully. “She’s right, you know. If Issei is training, then maybe we should too. What kind of wives let their husband outshine them completely?”
Matsu perked up instantly, eyes flashing behind her glasses. “I second this! I’ve already been studying Lacrima-powered systems, but it would be far more efficient if we all boosted our magical capabilities. Imagine—our Ashikabi leading a harem of high-tier mages and fighters instead of a gaggle of squabbling beauties.”
Akitsu meanwhile puts on a thinking face as she knows just the person to teach her.
Karasuba leaned back against the wall, her hand resting lazily on the hilt of her blade. A wicked grin curved her lips. “I like the sound of that. Training means more fights. Count me in.”
Miya, standing quietly by the doorway, finally spoke. Her calm voice cut through the excitement. “It is wise. If you want to stand beside him, then you must be his equals. Or at least strong enough that he doesn’t always need to shield you.”
The room went silent for a beat. Sakura, sitting on her chair, tilted her head. “Does that mean I get to continue my lessons with Levy-sensei?”
Tamamo smiled and assured her. “You’re right dear we should go see if she can continue giving us lessons.”
“Which means yes!” Sakura cheered, clapping her hands.
—----------------------------------------------------
The Next Morning
The group assembled in the backyard clearing. Mist clung to the lake, birds chirped from the trees, and an atmosphere of anticipation buzzed through the air.
Yuuka adjusted the straps on her arm guards. “Alright. If Natsu’s teaching Issei dragon fire, then I want to master projectile magic. Something that matches my aim.”
Uzume twirled her veil, eyes gleaming. “I’ll learn some combat spells. Binding magic, illusions, maybe even elemental extensions to my veil.”
Akitsu stood silently, frost already forming on her hands. “I… wish to learn more. To be useful.”
Karasuba cracked her knuckles, grinning like a wolf. “I’ll just hit harder.”
Matsu stood in front of them with a slate and chalk, already acting like an instructor. “I’ve prepared several regimens based on each of your affinities. Think of it as… magical curriculum 101. By the time Issei comes back, we’ll surprise him with our progress.”
Totomaru, who had been sulking at the edge of the yard, nearly fell over. “Wait—hold on—are you people serious? You actually want to train like lunatics?!”
“Yes,” Karasuba said flatly.
“No choice,” Tamamo added sweetly, a dangerous smile curving her lips. “It’s about time you become useful and teach us.”
Totomaru paled. “Wha—now?!”
Matsu adjusted her glasses with a predatory glint. “You’re a fire mage, part of the Elemental Four. Your knowledge is useful. And thanks to Tamamo’s Geas, you can’t exactly say no.”
Totomaru let out a strangled groan. “…This is evil. You people are evil.”
Yuuka smirked, pointing her weapon at him. “Shut up and start teaching, torch-boy.”
—------------------------------------
Meanwhile – Issei with Natsu
The sound of fists colliding echoed like thunder through the forest.
“RAHHHH!”
Natsu’s punch came wreathed in fire, the heat so intense it warped the air. Issei met it head-on with his forearm. The impact bursted in every direction.
“Ghhhhh—DAMN it!” Issei gritted his teeth, shoving Natsu back before he could collapse. His skin smoked and burned, already blistered, and every nerve screamed at him to stop.
But Issei didn’t. “Again!” he barked, fists clenching.
Natsu grinned like a demon, flames licking his knuckles. “Now you’re talking!”
Happy sat off to the side, paws covering his face. “He’s insane! He’s gonna get roasted alive, aye!”
They clashed again.
Natsu’s foot came blazing down in an overhead kick. Issei crossed his arms, blocking it. Fire exploded across his guard, searing his skin. The shockwave cracked the dirt under his feet.
“Ghh—!” Issei stumbled back, his arms red and raw. But his eyes didn’t waver.
This was the drill.
No Boosted Gear. No Balance Breaker. No Reinforcement or magic shielding. Just him—his flesh, his will, and the fire.
Natsu wasn’t holding back. Each punch, each kick carried Dragon Slayer fire, hotter and heavier than any normal flame.
Inside his head, Ddraig’s rumbling voice echoed with grim approval.
(You're doing good, Partner. First, we must build a resistance. Dragon Slayer fire cuts deeper against you because of the draconic nature of the Boosted Gear. It recognizes you as a dragon and burns you more fiercely. The pain will be greater. The scars, sharper. But if you survive, you will adapt. Your body will remember.)
Another punch slammed into Issei’s ribs, flames searing his side. He cried out, spit flying, but twisted his body to retaliate with a desperate kick into Natsu’s stomach.
Natsu skidded back, laughing through the smoke. “That’s the spirit! Don’t roll over—fight it!”
Issei coughed, chest heaving. “Easy… for you to say… you don’t feel like you’re barbecuing alive!”
Happy winced. “He’s literally smoking…”
(Second, Partner,) Ddraig continued, (is memory. To produce the flames yourself, you must know them. Your lungs, your chest, your heart, you must be able to recognize the essence of Dragon Slayer fire. Every strike you take carves it deeper into you. When you finally breathe out, it will not be mimicry—it will be real.)
Issei snarled, forcing himself upright again, flames licking along his arm from the last punch.
Natsu dashed forward, his fist blazing. “FIRE DRAGON IRON FIST!”
The punch slammed into Issei’s shoulder. Fire engulfed him.
He screamed—raw, guttural—but his feet stayed planted. His own fist shot out, smashing into Natsu’s cheek.
The dragon slayer skidded across the dirt, blood on his lip… and he smiled.
“Not bad.”
Issei collapsed to one knee, smoke rising from his body, his chest heaving like a bellows. Every part of him hurt. His muscles screamed, his skin burned, even his bones felt scorched.
But behind the pain… there was something else.
A flicker in his lungs. A memory of the fire.
“…I felt it,” he wheezed. His lips cracked into a weak grin. “That heat… it’s sticking.”
Natsu smirked, wiping blood from his mouth. “Good. Then let’s go again.”
Happy stared in horror. “AGAIN? He’s gonna die!”
Issei forced himself back up, wobbling on his legs. “No… I can take it.” His eyes blazed with stubborn fire. “If this is what it takes… I’ll do it.”
And so they clashed again. Punch after punch.
Each one carved deeper into Issei, branding the lesson onto his very soul.
Until one day soon… those flames would be his.
—---------------------------
Back at the House – Training Begins
The air crackled with tension, fire, and magic.
“Ghhhhh—!!”
Totomaru dove face-first into the dirt as another bolt of compressed flame magic whistled past his ear, scorching the wall behind him. The ex-Phantom Lord mage lifted his head weakly, coughing on smoke. “You’re gonna kill me before you learn anything, woman!”
Yuuka stood with both hands raised, crimson flames spiraling in her palms. Her sharp grin said it all. “Stop whining. If I can hit you, that means I’m improving.” She flicked her wrist, another bolt tearing through the air.
“Too close!” Totomaru yelped, tumbling out of the way with all the grace of a panicked dog. “I swear, you’re enjoying this!”
“I am.” Yuuka’s eyes gleamed.
—-------------------
Across the yard, Karasuba’s sword sang as her crimson blade cleaved through a stone golem that Tamamo had conjured. Sparks and flames scattered as she swung, her laughter sharp and wild.
“Hahaha! Make more, fox! I’ll slice every last one!”
Tamamo’s tails swishing elegantly. “Fine I’ll try making some stronger ones.” She snapped her fingers, three more golems appeared, this time with spears manifesting.
Karasuba’s grin widened. “Perfect.”
She darted forward, each strike a flash of heat and steel.
—---------------------------------
Uzume twirled her burning veil, the white cloth glowing with a fiery shimmer as it wove through the air like a living serpent. With a sharp crack, it lashed forward, snapping shut around Totomaru’s waist.
“Got you~,” she purred, pulling him toward her.
Totomaru flailed, his hair singed, his pride in tatters. “Can you not use me as a test dummy?!”
Uzume smirked, tugging tighter before letting the veil slip free. “You’re surprisingly durable for a punching bag. I’m impressed.”
“I hate this family,” Totomaru muttered darkly, stumbling back to his feet.
—-------------------------------
On the far side of the yard, Matsu adjusted her glasses, sparks of blue electricity crawling across her fingertips. “Almost… almost…” she murmured, focusing her energy. The arcs built in intensity, until with a crackling snap! they burst into a contained orb of lightning hovering above her palm.
She smiled, satisfied. “Perfect! Portable taser grenade, version one.”
“Don’t throw that near the house,” Miya called calmly as she walked by.
“Aw, c’mon, Miya, live a little!” Matsu chirped.
—------------------------
Yashima, flushed with exertion, gripped her hammer tight. Her magic pulsed, and the weapon swelled, doubling, tripling, until it towered over her like a pillar of iron. She swung once—sending a shockwave through the yard that nearly knocked Totomaru flat.
“Too much!” he cried, clutching his ears.
The hammer shrank abruptly in her hands until it was barely the size of a mallet. She blinked, staring. “…Or too little…”
She looked at her hands, embarrassed. “I-I’ll get it right.”
—------------------------------
Akitsu knelt in silence, frost creeping across the ground at her fingertips. Jagged spikes erupted being at least 50 meters long, catching the sunlight, shimmering sharp and cold. The air grew frigid, her breath misting.
She froze, staring at the ice with wide eyes. “…Too much?” she asked softly.
Tamamo glanced over, tails curling. “No, dear. Just enough to make our enemies nervous.”
Akitsu looked down, her cheeks dusted pink.
—------------------
Miya stood calmly by the veranda, her expression serene. With a wave of her hand, she pulled a table into the shimmering void of her hammer space, then released it back onto the ground with a gentle thud. A chair followed, then a stack of plates. Her control was precise, graceful.
Uzume watched, eyes wide. “Magic sure makes everything convenient."
Miya smiled faintly. “It has its uses. Especially for keeping the house neat… unlike some of you.”
All eyes turned to Karasuba, who was already glaring back. “What?!”
—-------------------
At the center of it all, Tamamo knelt beside Sakura. The little girl’s eyes sparkled as she held out her tiny hands, palms glowing faintly with red. A flicker of heat danced there—small, weak, but real.
Sakura squealed. “I did it! I made fire!”
Tamamo’s smile softened as she patted her head. “Well done, little one. When Papa comes back, he won’t even recognize you.”
Sakura grinned, clutching the flame before it sputtered out. “I’ll show him! I’ll be strong too!”
Miki and Gorou, watching from the steps, shared a look. Pride and worry mixed in their eyes.
—--------------------------------------
Back to Issei and Natsu
Issei sat cross-legged in the dirt, his eyes closed, his burned arms resting loosely on his knees. His breathing was slow, steady, each exhale releasing the pain and tension of the day.
Natsu paced back and forth, hands behind his head, clearly restless. “I don’t get it. How’s sittin’ around like a rock supposed to help? You can’t breathe fire if you’re just… breathing air.”
Issei didn’t respond. His focus was turned inward, reaching deeper than his aching muscles or the sting of burns on his skin. He could feel it—his energy, his heartbeat echoing faintly, the pulsing rhythm of the Boosted Gear slumbering like a dragon within him.
Slowly Sherri also started the process to heal her Master as she used his magic to speed up his body's natural healing.
Ddraig’s voice rumbled through his mind, calm and ancient. (Ignore him, Partner. Meditation has many uses. This is not wasted time. Think of it as recharging the furnace. Your body has been battered, your stamina drained. By sitting still and focusing inward, you recover faster… and you may even discover power that lies dormant within you.)
Issei’s brow furrowed as he focused harder, visualizing a spark igniting in his chest. “…So you’re saying this is like plugging in my phone overnight.”
(If comparing your soul to a child’s toy gives you understanding… then yes.)
—-------------------------------
Natsu finally groaned, throwing his arms up. “Arghhh, this is boring! I’m not built for sitting still!”
Happy, perched on a tree stump with a fish in his mouth, tilted his head. “Maybe you should try it, Natsu.”
“Me?” Natsu pointed at himself. “What’s the point? I already know my fire!”
From Issei’s left arm, Ddraig’s voice carried outward, his tone firm. (You should try it, boy. All you must do is sit. Still your body. Close your eyes. Feel your own energy and breath.)
Natsu blinked, scratching the back of his head. “...Feel my energy, huh? Doesn’t sound like my kind of thing, but… alright.”
He flopped down across from Issei, mirroring his posture.
For the first few minutes, he peeked from one eye, tapping his foot impatiently. But as the minutes stretched, the forest grew quiet, and even his restless heart began to slow.
He closed both eyes. Tried to feel.
Nothing.
At first, all he noticed was the smell of smoke in his nose and the faint ache in his arms from earlier sparring.
But then… something shifted.
He couldn’t describe it. A faint warmth flickered somewhere deep, deeper than his stomach, deeper than his lungs. A place he hadn’t paid attention to before.
Natsu frowned. ‘Weird…’
After a while.
Issei opened one eye, glancing at him. “You feel anything?”
Natsu shook his head. “Nah. Just feels empty.”
Happy piped up, chewing noisily. “But you look calmer.”
Ddraig’s chuckle rumbled. (Even emptiness is a step forward. What he does not realize is that even now, his magic is recovering faster than it would if he were jumping around like a fool.)
Natsu cracked one eye open, scowling. “Hey, I heard that!”
Issei smirked, closing his eyes again. “He’s right though. Look at you, actually sitting still. Miracles happen.”
“Shut it.” Natsu growled, though his voice lacked heat.
Still, he kept sitting and breathing. The fire within his body pulsed stronger, like a slumbering beast stirring. Unknown to him, something long-buried deep inside his soul twitched awake, faint as a heartbeat.
A dragon’s whisper. A fragment of power waiting for the right moment.
Issei meanwhile felt the warmth of his own inner flame, mingling with the steady beat of his eternal energy. A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘If even Natsu can sit still long enough to find something… maybe I’m not as hopeless as I thought.’
Finally locked in and I am done. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes. For now I’m going to sleep.
Comments
gabriel barboza
I find it really interesting, especially the fact that Igneel was inside Natsu trying to prevent the Dragon Slayer seed from fully forming, just like the E.N.D. Regarding Issei, I honestly think Issei's flames would be very, very devastating, on a level Natsu can't reach. We're talking about a guy who has Boosted Gear, and especially Ddraig's flames and the ability that I consider the craziest, Penetrate.
Francisco Diego
I hope Natsu can talk to Igneel after this meditation training. Would it be possible for Issei to gain some scales permanently?
