Chapter 3: A Dance Beneath the Scarlet Sky
Erza Scarlet was no ordinary mage. An S-rank prodigy from Fairy Tail, she was as formidable as she was fiercely devoted. Her burning scarlet hair and sharp brown eyes were framed by silver armor that gleamed faintly in the morning light, paired with a crisp blue skirt and sturdy black boots—battle-ready and effortlessly elegant.
Yet, beneath the tough exterior lay a girl whose heart beat with a singular wish: to protect her friends, no matter the cost.
Now, here she was, thoroughly exasperated after being dragged through the town for hours by a peculiar man who looked much too youthful to be called "old," yet carried an aura of age-old wisdom about him. White hair, a statuesque, battle-scarred body, and the kind of calm confidence that suggested he had seen wars far beyond her reckoning.
"You tricked me!" Erza snapped, her voice sharp as she drew her sword with a dramatic flourish. "I will not forgive you for this."
Naruto just smiled, clearly amused by her indignation. "Ark, watch and learn," he said, nodding towards his companion who lounged on a floating boulder nearby, looking equally curious and eager.
Turning back to Erza, Naruto's eyes gleamed with a friendly challenge. "I'm sorry if I made you angry. Hopefully, this will be a learning experience."
Inwardly, Naruto's gaze scanned Erza's form — assessing her stance, the grace in her attack, and the resolve behind those sharp eyes. Stats equalize, he mused quietly.
"I won't take unfair advantage," Naruto said, peeling off his robe with a casual stretch that showed the strength beneath his skin. With a flick of his wrist, a sword materialized in his hand—simple, yet elegant, with a fox etched delicately at the hilt.
Erza's fierce scowl deepened. "Don't underestimate me. I am Erza Scarlet!" she roared, dashing forward like a fiery storm.
Swift as a striking snake, she closed the distance, her sword slashing down from above. Naruto smiled serenely, adopting a relaxed stance. At the last moment, he sidestepped effortlessly and swung his blade close enough to whisper dead near her face—stopping mere inches before contact.
Leaping back just in time, Naruto watched as Erza summoned another sword, floating beside her like a loyal sentinel.
She paused, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. If he was truly serious, she could have been finished.
Not an enemy... then why is he fighting?
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Erza Scarlet stood at one end of the arena, her gaze steely, her breath steady. At the other end, the man they now called "Old Man Naruto"—his golden hair faded with time but his presence undiminished—stood with the serene confidence of someone who had already walked through eternity and come back for tea.
He smiled gently, hands tucked in his cloak sleeves.
"Don't be confused," Naruto said, his voice smooth and calm like a sage's whisper. "Clear your mind and fight without worry. This is a dance—enjoy it and forget the worries of the world."
Something stirred within Erza, like a forgotten lullaby heard again. But she quickly crushed the feeling, her armor flaring into being.
Heaven's Wheel Armor.
Hundreds of swords circled her like the rings of a celestial storm. With a cry, she launched them all at once—like a supernova of steel and fury.
Naruto didn't move at first.
Then—
He moved.
Not a blur, not a jolt, but a smooth, flowing motion, as if the wind itself obeyed his will. He danced through the barrage with eyes half-lidded and hands behind his back. His chakra pulsed, unseen but undeniable. Then, with a flick of his finger—
His own swords—dozens of glowing blades forged from earth and wind chakra—rose and met hers in midair, clashing like a symphony of war.
CLANG—TING—CRACK!
Steel met steel, then shattered. And then—he was there, in front of her, smiling.
"You rely too much on numbers," he said, parrying a sword slash effortlessly. "Try rhythm instead."
Erza gritted her teeth and vanished in a blur.
Flight Armor. Speed incarnate. She zigzagged around him like lightning, striking from above, below, behind—
And he kept up.
Not through speed, but intuition.
He blocked every strike, every jab, every feint—not by outpacing her, but by reading her. His movements were precise, minimal, and terrifyingly efficient. He was not faster—he was simply better.
"Why…?" she growled, panting. "Why do you match me every time?!"
Naruto tilted his head. "Because you're trying to win with numbers. With speed. With stats. But you've forgotten yourself. Focus. Breathe."
She didn't want to hear it. She couldn't. Not yet. So she changed again.
Black Wing Armor.
Adamantine Armor.
Sea Empress Armor.
Each one a masterpiece of magic and craftsmanship. And each one failed.
She flew, struck, roared—and Naruto danced, flowed, and smiled like a patient teacher letting a student fall again and again so they might learn to walk.
Finally, Erza stopped.
Her armor shattered. Her swords vanished into nothingness. She stood there, sweating, trembling, bare save for her heart and the pride she held so tightly. She looked up at him.
Naruto stood still, his sword lowered.
"I see it now," she whispered. "This isn't a test of power… is it?"
He smiled. "No. It never was."
Erza closed her eyes—and let go.
No armor. No tricks. Just her sword, her hands, her heartbeat.
She charged. He met her blade with his own, and the arena pulsed with the purity of their clash. No flying swords now. No clones. No magic.
Just two warriors.
Steel on steel.
Flesh against will.
Their duel stretched on into the night, past pain, past thought. The stars blinked above like curious children. The moon bathed the arena in silver.
And finally—
Erza fell to her knees, smiling through her sweat and tears.
She looked up at him, exhausted but glowing.
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Erza shattered many of her own armors in the heat of battle, but instead of despair, she was flooded with pure joy. This moment was magical—like a memory of childhood, as if she was being taught by a loving father.
Is this the feeling of family? she wondered as exhaustion forced her to the ground, gazing at Naruto's kind, wise face.
Hours passed, and the night wrapped the arena in a soft, starry blanket.
"You did well, Erza," Naruto said gently, sitting beside her and brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "I'm pleased with your progress."
"But I lost so many times," she said, voice quiet.
"And you learned from every mistake instead of repeating them. Now, about your reward... hmm, let me think," Naruto muttered, scratching his head in mock confusion.
He scratched his head, the way a forgetful grandfather might before finding candy behind your ear.
Erza's face burned a little brighter. There's no need, she wanted to say. I've already received something valuable...
"Nonsense!" Naruto declared, grinning. With a snap of his fingers, chakra spiraled in the air—and with it, something marvelous materialized.
A suit of futuristic, ethereal armor shimmered into existence, accompanied by a sleek, slender sword. The armor gleamed with a white and violet sheen, etched with delicate glowing lines that pulsed like veins of energy. Behind it floated eight sleek blades, suspended in the air in a wing-like arc. The blades radiated an eerie but graceful power, like stars forged into steel.
Erza's breath caught. "W-What is this…?"
"A gift," Naruto said simply. "Armor and weaponry belonging to another world—Nu-13. Her spirit lingers in the design. Now it belongs to you."
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the armor. It was unlike anything she had ever felt—lighter than air, yet humming with boundless potential. A slim visor formed across her eyes as the armor fused with her magic, accompanied by horns curving slightly back from the sides of her head. She looked almost alien... almost divine.
"Try it on," Naruto encouraged. "See what it can do."
As she equipped the armor, something shifted.
Her wounds vanished. A cool hum surrounded her. Her senses sharpened, her limbs felt effortless—fluid. She lifted her hand, and the eight floating blades responded like loyal familiars.
A thought, and she flew.
A breath, and a rift opened behind her, skipping her across the battlefield like light through a prism.
With a mere gesture, dozens of blades spiraled into existence, firing in choreographed arcs, then vanishing before the echoes faded.
"It's… it's perfect," she whispered, overwhelmed. "I've never felt like this. This power—it's not overwhelming, it's…"
"Balanced," Naruto said. "As it should be. This armor will heal you when you're close to falling, distort gravity around your enemies, and open space itself when you need to vanish or strike."
Erza landed gently, her blades slowly folding behind her back like mechanical wings, and removed the visor with reverence.
"Thank you," she murmured, eyes shining—not with battle lust or pride, but something gentler. Something warmer.
Naruto chuckled, reaching forward and pinching her cheek gently.
"You're welcome. You look adorable—reminds me of my own children."
She stared at him, eyes wide, then laughed—softly, shyly. There was something absurdly comforting about hearing such words from a man whose power dwarfed mountains, who spoke to time like an old friend.
Erza blinked, surprised, but before she could respond, Naruto lifted her gently, carrying her off the ground.
"The one who purified that demon? A fairy, something like this," Naruto said, showing her a small, glowing image. It was a petite woman with delicate green wings, a white dress, and a shining golden halo.
"I saw her by pure chance, camping in the forest," Naruto added, his tone turning serious, awed—as if sharing a secret too incredible for words.
Erza's usual skepticism melted away. In this moment, she accepted the tale with wide-eyed wonder.
"Is that so? Thank you for your help," she said softly.
"No problem. Now, how about a relaxing bath followed by a nice dinner?" Naruto suggested cheerfully, leaping down as the arena vanished, replaced by the peaceful normalcy of the town.
Unbeknownst to the townsfolk, a subtle illusion had shielded the spectacle from prying eyes—Naruto's way of keeping the spotlight away from himself.
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