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Dimensional Watch DXD Chapter 57 The Battle continues
🕑 Added 2025-08-03 04:05:15 +0000 UTCThe clash of steel echoed like thunder across the battlefield. Sparks flew as Karasuba’s gleaming blade met Totomaru’s sword again and again in a deadly ballet of speed, strength, and precision. Every movement was honed, every swing purposeful, two warriors fighting not just for victory, but for pride.
Karasuba’s blade moved with merciless precision, an extension of her will. Her every strike was clean, brutal, and deliberate. In contrast, Totomaru fought with increasing desperation, the sharp ring of his flaming sword drowned beneath the unrelenting tempo of her assault. Sparks erupted with each parry, but it was clear to anyone watching. The gap between Karasuba and Totomaru was too wide.
Totomaru gritted his teeth, his breaths coming in sharp gasps. Sweat trickled down his face, stinging the shallow cuts that Karasuba had already delivered with surgical grace. His eyes flitted across her stance, trying to find a single opening.He had never faced an opponent like this before. Not just strong—but utterly relentless.
“She’s… a monster.” He muttered under his breath. ‘How the hell is she so fast?! Her form is flawless, like she knows my next move before I do!’
Karasuba didn’t speak. Her red eyes locked onto him with a calm yet ruthless intensity, her blade singing through the air with such grace it was almost beautiful, if not for the very real danger it posed. Her movements were fluid, like a dancer’s, but each one held lethal intent. This was a woman who had no interest in playing games.
Totomaru lunged forward, his blade swung aiming for her neck, only to have his strike effortlessly parried. Karasuba twisted, her body moving like water, and delivered a counterstrike that nicked his cheek. Blood bloomed in the cut like crimson ink.
Totomaru stumbled back and growled. “I see now… pure swordplay won’t work on you.”
He flicked his hand, magic surging through his veins. A burst of pink fire swirled around him, sealing his wounds as he began to tap into his specialized elemental arsenal. Karasuba narrowed her eyes but remained silent, readying her stance.
“Let’s see how you handle this,” He hissed, slashing down his blade.
A burst of blue fire exploded at her feet, freezing the ground beneath her and locking her in place. He followed up with green fire, arcing through the air to stun her while she was immobile.
But Karasuba didn’t flinch.
With a swift flick of her wrist, her katana sliced through the frost encasing her legs. She ducked low, narrowly evading the green flame, and spun into a flurry of slashes that forced Totomaru onto the defensive.
“Shit!” He cursed, using red fire to conjure a wall between them and create distance.
Karasuba leapt through the fire without hesitation. Her katana cut the flames apart mid-air, dispersing them like wind through a campfire. She landed gracefully, not a single burn marring her skin.
"You're wasting your time," She said flatly, her voice devoid of emotion but filled with quiet finality. "Tricks don’t work on me."
Totomaru snarled, summoning purple fire, flames laced with dark curses designed to sap strength and dull reflexes. He lashed out, mixing the magic into a barrage of feints, jabs, and wild slashes. His flames lashed from every direction, twisting behind Karasuba, surging at her flanks, even raining from above.
But she was already moving.
Her blade moved faster than the eye could track, slicing apart every tendril of flame before it could reach her. Each motion of her katana seemed impossibly deliberate, as though she could read the magic itself and knew where it would strike next.
Totomaru’s breath caught as her sword slashed toward him again.
This one wasn’t a glancing cut.
Steel met skin, and blood sprayed from his side. He staggered, eyes wide in shock and pain.
All around them, both Phantom Lord and Fairy Tail mages had paused their battles to watch the duel unfold. On the edge of the ruined courtyard, Yuuka, Yashima, Cana, Loke and several others stood, awe in their eyes.
“Karasuba’s cutting through his fire like it’s nothing…” Yashima murmured.
“She’s insane.” Muttered Loke, ducking behind cover as a Shade soldier surged past. “No wonder Issei keeps her close.”
Even the Phantom Lord mages, many bloodied and battered, watched in disbelief as one of their top fighters was being methodically dismantled.
“This… this can’t be,” One whispered. “Totomaru’s an S-rank…”
“She’s not even using magic—just a damn sword,” Another muttered.
Some attempted to step in, hoping to tip the scale, clearly ready to intervene and help their S-Class member.
“They’re going to interfere!” Cana shouted.
“Like hell they are!” Alzack growled, firing a round of magically charged bullets into their path while Bisca covered him. “Let them fight it out one-on-one!”
“Let the swordswoman finish her duel,” Loke added, calmly knocking a Phantom Lord mage unconscious.
Yashima’s hammer slammed into a Shade soldier, clearing the space. “She's got this.”
With a chorus of war cries, the Fairy Tail fighters pushed forward, forcing the rest of Phantom Lord’s grunts back to ensure the duel remained undisturbed.
Back in the center of the battlefield, Totomaru was bleeding heavily now. His clothing was in tatters, his magic waning. Every time he struck, Karasuba had an answer. Every strategy, every spell, every ambush had been neutralized.
“How… how are you this strong?” He gasped.
Karasuba tilted her head, her expression as still as the eye of a storm. “I fight because I enjoy the dance. But I will never allow myself to lose. Especially not to someone like you.”
Totomaru panting, blood dripping down his arms. “You're… you're insane…”
Karasuba tilted her head. “No. I’m just better.”
He roared, lifting his sword overhead, channeling every ounce of his power into it. Flames of every color coiled around the blade—a desperate final gambit. He brought it down with a scream of effort.
Clang!
Karasuba blocked it with one hand.
Totomaru’s eyes widened in terror. Her blade pulsed with energy—and with a single upward slash, she disarmed him, his sword spiraling through the air and clattering to the ground behind her.
Before he could react, she was in front of him. The flat of her blade struck his chest with immense force, sending him flying backward into a pile of rubble, groaning.
Then, a crackling voice filled the air—sharp, enthusiastic, and impossibly well-timed.
“Karasuba! Knock him out already and bring him with you!” Matsu’s voice rang behind her.
Karasuba blinked, then scowled. “Matsu? Why the hell are you here?”
Hiding in one of the bushes, Matsu peered out with her new glasses on her face and a massive grin, her notebook furiously flipping pages on its own beside her. Her grin was absolutely unrepentant.
“Are you kidding?! Don't tell me you didn’t see it! That cannon! That walking fortress!” Matsu gushed, practically bouncing on her heels. “I couldn’t just not come and see what powers something like that! Do you know what this means? If we reverse engineer it, we could build our own! Maybe a flying base? A mobile castle? Ohh! Maybe a walking house with flamethrower arms!”
Karasuba, flicking blood off her blade, huffed. “So you snuck here while everyone else was fighting?” She muttered, rolling her eyes. “But why do I have to deal with the cleanup?”
“Exactly!” Matsu chirped, unapologetic. “Also, can you not kill him? His magic is fascinating! I want to study it.”
“Why?”
“His magic!” Matsu squealed, flipping her notes. “Has multiple colored flames, each with different effects—healing, stunning, freezing, cursing—he must have insane elemental control to switch between them so fluidly. Imagine what I could learn from studying it or learn it!”
Karasuba's brow twitched.
Totomaru’s voice finally rose above a growl as he picked up his sword. “Hey! Are you two seriously just chatting?! While I’m right here?! Bleeding?!”
Karasuba exhaled slowly. “Yes,” She said plainly, raising her sword.
“Don’t look down on me!!” He screamed, fire erupting violently around him. “I’ll show you the true strength of Phantom Lord’s S-Class mage!”
Magic surged.
Totomaru’s body burst into flames—seven different hues dancing across his form like living fire spirits. Red for destruction. Blue for freezing. Green for stunning. Purple for curses. Pink for healing. Orange for shockwaves. And black for corrosion.
“Rainbow Fire Magic: Sevenfold Spiral Inferno!” He shouted, drawing his blade one final time, launching the multicolored blaze toward Karasuba. “Let’s see you ignore this!”
To his credit, it was beautiful. The seven fires twined and surged forward in a blazing spiral, illuminating the battlefield like a sun brought to earth.
Matsu’s eyes widened from behind. “Oh-ho! That’s new!”
But Karasuba’s eyes didn’t waver. “Hm,” she said, shifting her stance. “Pretty lights. So… this is your final trick?”
The firestorm howled toward her like a flaming tornado. But Karasuba didn’t move. With one smooth, clean motion, she raised her katana over her shoulder.
And swung.
The blade cut everything.
With a single, fluid motion, an upward slash that cuts everything in its path sliced through the roaring magic. The colors of the rainbow split like paper in a windstorm. The spiraling inferno collapsed inward, cleaved by the sheer force and precision of her strike. The air cracked with the vacuum left behind.
Totomaru’s eyes widened in disbelief. One moment he stood proud and defiant—his magic swirling in grandeur.
The next, he was on his knees, his sword broken, a fresh slash across his chest joining the others, barely missing his heart by inches. His body teetered, then collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
Behind the Sekirei of death, Matsu’s face went pale. “K-Karasuba! I said knock him out! Not to kill him!
Karasuba calmly sheathed her blade. “Relax, he's alive. I know what I’m doing. I didn’t cut deep enough to hit anything vital.”
Matsu appeared next to the bleeding Totomaru, frantically placing her hand over the wound and pulling out medical gauze from her storage space. “You call this not too deep?! What are you, a surgeon?!”
Karasuba shrugged. “I missed his vitals. He’ll live.”
Totomaru groaned weakly. “Y-you’re both insane…”
Once Matsu patched him up and bound his arms tightly in enchanted rope, she tucked him behind a tree.
Karasuba raised an eyebrow. “Is that going to keep him out of the way?”
“Until we can come back and interrogate him? Definitely,” Matsu confirmed, brushing her hands off. “Now come on, I want to poke around the ruins and maybe find some goodies they left behind.”
Karasuba rolled her neck, cracking the stiffness out. “Fine. So what are we looking for? Blueprints? Secret rooms filled with forbidden technology?”
Matsu grinned, her eyes practically glowing. “All of the above.”
With their quarry dealt with and the battlefield growing quieter in the distance, the two women vanished into the shadow of the ruined Phantom Lord stronghold—one seeking knowledge, the other simply indulging her partner’s eccentric curiosity.
Neither of them noticed the unconscious Totomaru twitch slightly, his final thoughts before blacking out being: ‘Never… mess with women from Fairy Tail.’
—---------------------------------------------------
The battle between Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord continued as Uzume was dealing with her own headache in the form of one Sol of the Earth, one of the Elemental 4.
Dust burst from the fractured stone as Uzume landed hard, her white veil snapping like a whip behind her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, eyes narrowed as she stared across the battlefield.
“Zut alors~! Mademoiselle, you must understand,” Sol crooned, his body melting seamlessly into the muddy terrain beneath him before Uzume’s veil sliced clean through where he had been standing a heartbeat ago. “You are tres beautiful, but your attempts to capture me? How you say?—tragic.”
“Ugh, will you shut up?!” Uzume snapped, her eye twitching in irritation as she twirled on her heel and lashed her veil behind her in a whip-like arc, only for it to cleave through a statue of Sol. Again.
“Tch. Another fake?” She muttered, yanking the veil back toward herself. The copy shattered into stone fragments, falling harmlessly to the floor.
Sol’s voice slithered from beneath the ground. “Oh, ma chérie, but I am quite real and completely out of your reach~! Your attacks, how you say... lack the finesse to match my elegance, non? No need to be ashamed, though—most people are beneath moi.”
"Slippery bastard," She said, gritting her teeth, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. The terrain here was uneven, broken by the battle and softened by Sol’s constant manipulation of the earth. Cracked rock floors shifted underfoot as if the ground itself were conspiring against her. Jagged spikes jutted out from walls, and small statues of Sol adorned the corners, mockingly posed.
To her side, Mirajane stood at a distance, arms half-raised but uncertain, a line of concern creasing her brow. “Uzume, do you want help? I can be a distraction for him.”
“No! Stay back!” Uzume barked, not looking at her. “He’s tricky, and if you get close, he’ll just use you against me.”
Mirajane hesitated, glancing at the battlefield around them. “But you’re having trouble. I know I can't fight but I can at least do something.”
“I know, but…” Uzume exhaled sharply, frustration mounting in her chest. “This guy’s not strong—he’s just slippery. It’s like trying to fight a bar of soap.”
Sol’s head popped up briefly from the ground, wearing a dazzling grin framed by long white curls. “Enfin! She understands! Slippery, yes, like the finest clay slipping through delicate fingers~!”
Uzume’s eye twitched. “Okay, that’s it.” She whirled her white veil around her like a ribbon dancer, each fold glowing faintly with her energy. “I don’t care how annoying you are. I’m done playing tag.”
She struck—fast.
Her Veil multiplied into multiple clothes and was shot in every direction, slamming into the ground, wrapping around the statues and yanking them into the air before slicing them apart mid-spin. She was a blur, a whirlwind of movement, like a spider weaving silk at blinding speed. Her strikes didn’t aim for Sol directly anymore—instead, she was reshaping the battlefield itself, denying him places to hide.
“Still useless!” Sol sang. “You cannot hit what you cannot find!”
“Don’t need to,” Uzume muttered, eyes narrowing. “Just need to box you in.”
She extended both hands, her veil twisting in a wide circle around her. The cloth hit the surrounding earth walls and then dove downward, piercing the soft earth. In moments, a wide dome of sharp veil strands formed—a trap.
“There,” she said, brow slick with sweat. “Try dancing out of this, dirtbag.”
For a moment, there was silence. Then, with an indignant pop, Sol erupted from the ground, looking notably less amused.
“You vile woman!” He spat, wiping mud from his brown coat. “How dare you destroy my creation with your crude tactics?! This was a clean suit!”
“You pop out of the ground and you’re mad about mud?” Uzume deadpanned.
Sol stomped a foot, and the earth beneath him rippled like liquid. “I shall crush you with elegance!”
“Bring it, Frenchy!” Uzume charged, veil snapping like a whip.
Sol raised both arms, summoning a torrent of sand and pebbles into a spinning cyclone between them—a miniature sandstorm imbued with Earth Magic. Uzume leapt back, shielding her eyes with her veil as sharp bits of stone slashed through the air.
“Uzume!” Mirajane called from behind a broken column. “Are you okay?!”
“Fine!” Uzume shouted over the storm. “Just stay back, I’ve got this!”
The veil shimmered around her, forming a dense cocoon as the sand whipped against it. The storm battered her shield for several seconds before Sol’s voice rang out again.
“You see?! Resistance is meaningless! Against the earth, you are but a leaf in the wind!”
“Then let’s change the weather,” Uzume growled.
She extended both arms, her veil surging outward in a burst of force. The cocoon spun, shredding the storm apart in every direction with a sharp whoosh that sent dust flying.
Before Sol could react, her veil wrapped tightly around his midsection. His eyes widened comically. “H-How did you—?!”
“Just a guess.” She said coldly.
With a powerful twist of her body, Uzume hurled Sol overhead and slammed him into the ground with a suplex. The earth cracked.
Mirajane gasped. “Oof…”
Unfortunately this wasn’t enough as Sol was able to turn the ground into sand, softening the blow.
He gritted his teeth, his eyes twitching in irritation as another of his statues crumbled under Uzume’s relentless assault. He emerged from a crumbling stone pillar, fingers twitching, his once-playful tone hardening beneath his mocking French accent.
“You… are becoming tres ennuyant~. I had hoped to finish this quickly, but you insist on being—how you say—a barbarian with ribbons!”
“Keep talking, mud-face,” Uzume snapped, her white veil lashing through another animated puppet with a sharp crack. “Eventually you’ll say something clever.”
But even as her voice stayed confident, her body was beginning to wear down. Her breaths were shallower, her movements slightly slower. The battle had dragged on longer than she expected, and Sol’s constant slipping into the ground, creating clones, and flinging earth magic had taken its toll.
Then, Sol’s golden eyes shifted—just a flicker.
Uzume caught it. He wasn’t looking at her anymore.
Her heart skipped a beat. She turned sharply to see Mirajane, still standing at a distance, watching the fight intently.
Sol's hand disappeared into the ground—and the earth trembled.
“Oh no you don’t—!” Uzume lunged forward.
But Sol was already moving.
“Let us see how your friend handles a taste of true pressure, mademoiselle~!”
The stone beneath Mirajane’s feet exploded upward, pillars rising like jagged spears, threatening to impale or trap her. A sandstorm twisted around her form in a violent cyclone of stinging shards and crushing pressure.
“Mira!” Uzume shouted, her veil snapping toward her friend to yank her out—but at that very moment, a wall of dense mud surged behind her, slamming downward like a curtain and blocking her attack.
He played her.
“Dammit!” Uzume hissed, spinning to defend herself, slashing through the encroaching earth magic—but she was now cut off from helping Mirajane.
“Voilà!” Sol smirked, arms raised triumphantly. “Split you apart, and now—your precious friend falls! A tragic duet, non?”
The sandstorm intensified, and Mirajane winced, shielding her eyes.
But then—
BOOM.
A thunderous impact ripped through the courtyard as the stone and sand blast meant for Mirajane was smashed aside in a single, overwhelming blow.
A figure stood between her and the magic, arms raised in a cross block. Thick, scaled muscles and clawed fingers. “—Don’t you dare touch my sister!!”
Elfman Strauss stood tall, his eyes blazing with protective fury. His arms were covered in dark scaly hide, transformed through his Takeover Magic: Beast Arm. The blast dispersed around him, completely absorbed by his monstrous limbs.
Mirajane’s eyes widened. “Elfman…”
Uzume blinked in disbelief. “Where the hell did you come from?”
Elfman didn’t look back. He kept his stance between Mirajane and Sol, smoke rising off his transformed arms.
“I was going to fight Jose myself, like a man! But then I saw Phantom Lord targeting this side,” He growled, his voice a deep rumble. “Then I saw him attack her.”
He turned slowly toward Sol, glaring. “That’s unforgivable.”
Sol took a step back, lips curling. “And who might you be? Another sibling here to interrupt my fun?”
“I’m Elfman Strauss,” he said, cracking his neck. “And what you just did… trying to hurt my sister? That makes this personal.”
Sol scoffed. “Personal? Mon dieu~ you believe this is a play for vengeance? I assure you, it was simply strategy. A little pressure on a weak link—”
CRACK.
Elfman’s fist smashed into the ground, leaving a crater beneath him as dust exploded outward.
“I don’t care what you call it. You're done.”
Uzume stepped forward, her expression serious. “Hey, Elfman, let’s team up. We’ll finish him faster.”
But Elfman shook his head. “No. This one’s mine. I want to beat this guy myself like a man should. Can you protect my sister?”
Uzume blinked. She tilted her head, studying his expression—the clenched jaw, the trembling fists, the way he placed himself like a shield without hesitation.
For a second, she almost wanted to tell him that it was a stupid idea. But instead…
She gave a soft smirk. “Fine. I get it. You want your dramatic solo moment. Just don’t get yourself killed, tough guy.”
“I won’t,” He replied simply. “I’m doing this for my family, like a man!”
Uzume turned and stood protectively next to Mirajane, veil coiling around her arm again. “Guess I’m stuck playing bodyguard now.”
Mirajane smiled faintly. “Thanks. Elfman is the strongest when it really counts.”
Sol narrowed his eyes, cracking his knuckles. “Very well. Then let us dance, Monsieur Strauss. Show me if your brutality can match my elegance~”
Elfman didn't reply. He simply charged, his arms covered in black scales from his Beast Arm Takeover. Both beast arms slamming into the ground as he propelled himself like a missile toward Sol. His fists flew, raw and unrelenting, the ground shattering beneath his blows.
But every time—Sol vanished.
He would melt into the ground, rise from a column, or slip sideways through a wall of sand like water through cracks.
“Too slow, my savage friend,” Sol’s voice rang out, always from somewhere just out of reach. “You fight like a man who carries weight far heavier than his fists.”
Elfman growled, spinning mid-air and slamming his foot down—but it crushed only stone and dust.
Uzume, watching from beside Mirajane, narrowed her eyes. “He’s playing the same game with Elfman as he did with me. Hiding, baiting, and dodging.”
Mirajane said nothing. Her hands were clenched into trembling fists. Her gaze never left her brother.
Sol rose again from the shifting ground, his body sliding up from the earth. But this time, his smirk had changed. Sharper. Calculating.
“Ahh… I remember now,” He said softly, almost to himself. “Elfman Strauss. Beast Take-over user. Impulsive. Stubborn. Loyal to a fault…”
He tilted his head, golden eyes glinting. “With an utterly tragic story.”
Elfman paused, fists raised. “What… did you say?”
Sol gave a mock sigh, like an actor lamenting a sad tale on stage. “You are one of three, non? The famous Strauss siblings. Middle child Elfman. Big sister Mirajane. And then… the baby of the family.”
His voice dropped, venom now laced beneath the sugar.
“Lisanna.”
Mirajane gasped audibly. Uzume stiffened. The name hit like a thunderclap.
Elfman’s eyes widened.
Sol’s voice purred. “Oh yes… I read about her. She died, didn’t she? During a quest was it? How awful. But what’s worse is… she died because of you, didn’t she?”
“Shut up.” Elfman’s voice came low, dangerous.
“You lost control. Tried a full body Takeover to protect your sisters. But instead, you turned into a rampaging monster.” Sol stepped closer, slow, deliberate. “And your sweet little sister… tried to calm you down.”
“Shut up.”
“But you couldn’t hear her, could you?” Sol sneered. “Not over your roars and rampage You killed her.”
“SHUT UP!” Elfman lunged again, a furious roar erupting from his throat—but Sol was gone once more, slithering into the earth. From behind, his voice echoed, amused and cruel.
“No wonder you hesitate to use your full power. You’re terrified you’ll do it again.”
Uzume turned to Mirajane in shock. “Is that true?”
Mirajane was trembling, her knees weak, her voice barely a whisper. “It was… years ago. We don’t talk about it. He never forgave himself.”
Elfman’s fists slammed into the ground again and again, missing their target each time. Sol danced around him with martial grace, combining Earth Magic and martial arts, striking back with precise kicks and hard stone spikes to the ribs and arms.
“Power without control is useless,” Sol mocked, landing a blow that sent Elfman staggering. “You’re no beast. Just a scared little boy.”
Uzume’s jaw clenched as she took a step forward, but Mirajane suddenly tried to rush past her. “Elfman!”
Uzume stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t.”
“But he’s—he’s going to get hurt!”
“He’s already hurt,” Uzume said softly. “Let's take you somewhere safer then I’ll come back and help him.”
Meanwhile Sol circled Elfman, raising both arms. “Once I’m done with you, I think I’ll visit your big sister. After all, she’s helpless right now. I wonder how loud she screams when I bury her alive?”
That was it.
Something inside Elfman snapped.
His battered form stilled. His muscles tensed. His breathing slowed. The image of Lisanna, smiling. The sight of Mirajane, crying and the shame. The guilt. The fear. All of it coalesced and burned.
“No…” Elfman growled, voice rising. “You won’t… touch her.”
His magic exploded outward, a pulse of raw power bursting from his chest. His beast arms shimmered—and his entire body began to change.
Claws extended. Fur bloomed. Horns curled from his forehead like a ram. His height surged. His shoulders bulged. Fangs tore from his mouth. His eyes glowed with wild light.
“Full Body Takeover… Beast Soul: Weretiger!!”
The ground shattered beneath him.
Mirajane covered her mouth in shock. “H-He did it… after all this time…”
Uzume’s eyes widened. “That’s a Takeover?! Damn.”
Sol’s eyes bulged. “M-Mon dieu—what—?!”
Before he could dive into the ground again, Elfman was on him.
A massive fist crashed into Sol’s gut like a cannonball, sending him skidding across the battlefield. Sol tried to rise—but the second punch hit him in the face, followed by a third, fourth, and fifth.
Elfman didn’t let up.
He roared with fury, every strike landing with the force of a falling boulder. Sol tried to summon earth magic—stone walls, spikes, sand shields—but they shattered with every blow.
“YOU WON’T HURT HER!”
CRACK!
“YOU WON’T INSULT HER!”
BOOM!
“YOU WON’T TAKE ANYTHING FROM ME EVER AGAIN!!”
SMASH!
Dust and debris exploded upward as Elfman’s final punch drove Sol into the crater so hard the ground split beneath them. The flamboyant mage’s eyes rolled back as he crumpled into unconsciousness, his body battered and half-buried in his own element.
The battlefield fell silent.
Elfman stood in the center, panting, his monstrous form towering above. Then, slowly, the beast faded—his form returning to normal. He staggered slightly.
Mirajane rushed to him, arms wrapping around his chest. “You idiot,” she whispered, sobbing into his shirt. “You could’ve died.”
Elfman didn’t speak for a moment. Then, quietly said. “But I didn’t. Not this time. Because I did it… like a man.”
Uzume stood a few feet away, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “…Not bad, Beast Boy.”
—---------------------------------------------
The air trembled with raw energy as Jose Porla, master of Phantom Lord, stood tall above his ruined Guild, cloaked in a swirling mass of obsidian-black magic. His eyes glowed with an eerie pale blue light, cold and calculating, unbothered by the ruin surrounding him. Shadows writhed at his feet like living serpents, tendrils of Darkness lashing through the ruined halls with no regard for friend or foe.
Boost
Issei Hyoudou gasped, his feet skidding against fractured stone as a black tendril of magic surged past his face, missing him by a hair. The corrupted energy scorched the earth, leaving a sizzling crater in its wake.
Above him, Kuromaru let out a sharp roar, beating his wings to stay in the air. Electricity crackled around his sleek, draconic frame—his black scales pulsing with each surge of internal voltage.
The air around Jose shimmered with dark energy. Shadows coiled like living things at his feet, tendrils writhing like snakes hungry for flesh. His eyes gleamed with cold amusement.
“You’re tenacious,” Jose said, lips curling in a smug grin. “I’ll give you that, boy.”
Issei clenched his fist, the red gauntlet of the Boosted Gear pulsing with life. His breathing was ragged, his body bruised from near-misses and glancing hits—but he refused to back down.
“You talk too much,” Issei spat. “Why don’t you shut up and fight?”
Jose’s grin widened. “Very well.”
In an instant, jagged spikes of darkness erupted from the ground, homing in on Issei and Kuromaru with terrifying precision.
“Kuromaru—now!” The dragon dove, wings snapping downward with a thunderous crack. Issei leapt onto his back mid-air, gripping tightly as they soared upward.
The shadows twisted and followed.
Everything the darkness touched was consumed. The stone crumbled. Trees disintegrated. Even the air seemed to grow thinner in its presence.
From above, Ddraig’s sharp voice rang in Issei’s mind. (That magic—it’s corrosive. Don’t let it touch you. Even a graze could eat through your aura.)
“Great,” Issei muttered, adjusting his stance. “So don’t get hit. Classic plan.”
More tendrils chased them. Issei could feel them snap at his heels. He looked down. Jose was still standing in the same spot, hands raised, channeling spell after spell with effortless cruelty.
“We need to hit him. Hard,” Issei muttered. “Kuromaru, take me above him.”
(Are you serious? What are you planning, Partner?) The dragon asked but Issei didn’t have time to explain.
Kuromaru didn’t question him. With a spin of his wings, he soared high, lightning gathering in his throat as he prepared for a barrage.
And then Issei jumped. Freefalling down.
Boost!
Wind howled past his ears. The battlefield spun around him in a blur. But all he saw was Jose—standing beneath him like the eye of a storm.
Issei’s fist glowed with red light, the gauntlet growing hotter with every passing second.
The voice of Ddraig echoed in his mind, each boost compounding power upon power.
Boost!
He crashed downward.
But Jose simply stepped aside. “Predictable.”
Issei’s punch shattered the stone at Jose’s feet, causing a shockwave—but the guild master remained untouched.
From above, Kuromaru fired a concentrated bolt of electric breath, aiming directly at the distracted Jose.
A dark shield shimmered to life above the Phantom Lord master, absorbing the lightning in a dome of black energy.
Issei grit his teeth. “But you forgot something.”
He twisted mid-crouch and launched himself upward again, catching the underside of Jose’s shield—his foot slamming into the base with a crack, disrupting the balance.
Jose’s eyes flicked down too late.
Issei flipped overhead, twisting to land behind him, gauntlet ready.
But Jose turned with unnatural speed—his own fist colliding with Issei’s.
The shockwave cracked the air.
Issei was launched back, gritting his teeth as he flipped and landed in a crouch, skidding several feet across shattered ground. Blood trickled down his lip, but his eyes were sharp.
Jose remained unmoved. “You’re fast,” Jose mused. “Stronger than expected. That gauntlet of yours is curious. But let me be clear—” He raised his hand.
Tendrils of shadow exploded upward from the ground, slamming toward Issei like spiked chains.
Issei sprang back, but barely—one of the tendrils grazed his arm, burning his jacket and singing the skin beneath.
“Gh—!”
Kuromaru roared at seeing his master get hurt as he swooped low. Lightning rained down from the sky, Kuromaru unleashing a barrage to keep Jose pinned.
The strikes landed—but Jose remained standing.
His barrier flickered with each impact, but never broke.
Issei growled. “Damn it… nothing works.”
He ran forward again, dodging the next barrage of dark magic, leaping across cracked platforms, using rubble as cover.
BOOST!
His speed surged. Each breath burned. But still he charged.
Jose raised both arms, and this time—pillars of shadow erupted from the earth like towers, trying to crush him between them.
Issei ducked, slid, then leapt—
Only for Jose to appear directly in front of him.
“Got you.” A shadow-covered hand slammed into Issei’s chest, flinging him backward. He hit the ground hard, coughing from the impact.
Reset!
Kuromaru unleashed a primal roar and dove, firing another arc of lightning. Jose barely flicked his wrist—deflecting the bolt into the sky.
“You are persistent,” Jose said, walking toward Issei’s downed form. “But in the end… you're just a bug buzzing at a storm.” Darkness gathered around Jose again. “You cannot win.”
Issei groaned, rising to one knee. His heart pounded and breath hitched. But in his mind… the voice of his partner, calm and proud, echoed through the chaos.
(Partner. Get up! You're not done yet.)
Issei’s eyes burned red for a brief moment. “You’re right.” He stood, aura flaring.
Issei’s aura blazed around him in red hues, steam rising from his skin as the Boosted Gear pulsed with energy. He stared down Jose Porla, teeth gritted, barely standing. Kuromaru circled above, arcs of lightning coiling across his wings like a brewing storm.
BOOST!
The gauntlet glowed again. His body was screaming, but he refused to fall.
That’s when it happened. A whisper of wind. A presence behind him.
He didn’t react fast enough.
“Wind Cutter: Blade Fan.”
A concussive blast of slicing air screamed toward Issei’s back. “Crap—!”
But before the wind could connect—
CLANG!
A crimson blur dropped between him and the attack, twin swords flashing in a cross block. The force of the wind exploded outward, sending dust and fragments scattering.
“Are you alright, Issei?” Came a calm, sharp voice.
Issei’s eyes widened. “Erza?!”
Erza Scarlet, clad in her standard Heart Kreuz armor, stood tall and fierce before him. Her red hair whipped around her shoulders, eyes narrowed at the new threat.
“You picked a bad time to turn your back,” She said sternly.
Issei chuckled breathlessly. “Yeah… thanks. You saved my butt.”
Erza nodded once. “You’re welcome.”
A few meters away stood Aria of the Element Four, his blindfold still on, his body serene despite the sudden clash. His hair fluttered in the breeze as he calmly floated toward Jose and knelt.
“My apologies, Master Jose,” Aria said with a reverent bow. “I failed to eliminate the boy.”
Jose merely chuckled and clapped his hands once, slowly. “Not at all. On the contrary… this is far more entertaining than I had hoped. It is an honor, truly, to meet one of Makarov’s most promising children in the flesh.”
His gaze shifted to Erza, eyes glinting with dark pleasure. “Erza Scarlet, Titania of Fairy Tail. Your name precedes you.”
Erza’s jaw clenched. She took a step forward, blades lowering to her sides. “You speak of Makarov so casually,” She growled. “As if he wasn’t the one you nearly killed!”
Jose raised a hand in mock surrender. “Oh? But that wasn’t me.” He tilted his head. “No… That honour belongs to Aria, he was the one who struck him down.”
A cold wind passed through the battlefield as the words sank in.
Issei blinked. “Wait. What…?”
Erza’s eyes widened, the fire behind them suddenly roaring to life.
“…You?”
Aria did not flinch. “He was simply in the way.”
A deep, shaking breath escaped Erza’s lips. Then silence.
She didn’t speak.
She moved.
A golden light shimmered across her form as armor erupted in a flash—
Black Wing Armor.
Dark, draconic wings formed from her back, and her sword changed into a wicked, jagged blade. Her magic spiked violently, warping the wind around her.
“I’m going to make you pay for what you did to our master.”
Aria removed his blindfold slowly.
The moment the cloth left his eyes, the pressure doubled.
Wind screamed across the courtyard. The very sky seemed to quiver. His exposed eyes radiated deadly magic—no pupils, just endless white glow.
“You’re welcome to try,” Aria said.
The battle erupted.
—-----------------------------------
Issei dashed forward again as Kuromaru dove low, launching arcs of thunder toward Jose to keep him from casting freely. The battlefield was alive with chaos—lightning and darkness crashing like titans.
Erza flew in low, clashing with Aria in a blinding spiral of steel and pressure. His wind howled. Her blade roared. Every strike between them shattered the ground, tearing craters into the earth.
“Requip: Flight Edge!” Erza’s sword changed mid-swing to a massive cleaver of wind-resistant steel. She tore through Aria’s gusts with a brutal overhand strike that carved a trench through the battlefield.
Meanwhile, Issei pushed forward with a sharp growl.
Boost!
He lashed out with a punch. Jose met it with his palm, stopping it—but this time his expression twisted.
Crack.
His barrier flickered as lightning rained down.
“You’re starting to crack,” Issei smirked.
“Annoying brat,” Jose spat. “You’re like a mosquito that keeps dodging the swatter.”
—-----------------------------------
Deep within Issei’s soul
A storm brewed as a debate was raging.
Ddraig, the massive red dragon, grunted irritably, tail flicking as he looked down at the spectral form of Sherri—the manifestation of the watch's AI.
“No,” Ddraig growled. “It’s not time. He doesn’t need that power yet.”
Sherri, arms crossed, narrowed her eyes. “He’s barely standing, Ddraig. He needs everything he can get.”
Ddraig’s claws clenched. “That power is… different. I’ve told you, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Issei didn’t even mean to—”
“But Issei was able to activate it, right?” Sherri said pointedly, smirking.
The dragon growled deeper. “That moment was… embarrassing.”
“Who cares? It’s power. It’s HIS. And if he dies because you’re too proud to let him use it. It will be on you.”
Ddraig glared at her, steam snorting from his nostrils. Then sighed. “…Fine.”
—------------------------
Back in the real world
Issei’s body jerked mid-slide, as a surge of power burned through him in a red light.
Jose narrowed his eyes. “What… is that?”
The red dragon's voice echoed in Issei’s mind. (Partner… There’s something I haven't told you and I don't have time to explain. Just don't waste the time you have.)
“What?!” Suddenly Issei’s aura changed.
Done with the chapter. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes. Just saying it now, I won’t be doing Natsu vs Gajeel and Grey vs Juvia as it will mostly be the same.
Comments
Francisco Diego
That's it! The F*CKING BxB
TwistedGamingZ65
Sherri giving ddraig the "izuku speech to shoto"
