Chapter 10: The Siren of Rana
"Erza, come with me. I need to talk to you about something important… alone."
Laxus's voice cut through the warm hum of the guild hall like a blade. It wasn't laced with arrogance or sarcasm. No teasing. No challenge. Just… seriousness.
That was what made everyone freeze.
It wasn't his usual tone—the one he used when asking Erza to ditch the "weaklings" for a real mission. No, this was different.
Erza stood slowly from her seat, her scarlet hair shifting with the motion as she turned to him with a curious glance. The moment he got closer, she caught the scent clinging faintly to his coat.
Her eyes widened just slightly.
"Mr. Naruto…"
Why had she remembered his scent?
Erza's cheeks flushed without warning, and without another word, she grabbed Laxus by the arm and dragged him out the doors.
"Chill, woman!" Laxus winced. "My arm's gonna come off!"
They came to a quiet park not far from the guild. Wind rustled the trees gently. The distant sound of children laughing filtered through the air, but neither of them were paying attention.
Erza rounded on him. "You met him, didn't you?"
Laxus shoved his hands in his pockets and gave a curt nod. "Yeah. He talked to me. About leadership. Responsibility. Strength."
He looked off into the distance, remembering the weight of Naruto's words. "He didn't lecture me. He... showed me something. Made me realize things I've been ignoring."
Erza nodded, already expecting as much.
"So what is it you want to talk about?" she asked, folding her arms, her voice calm but cautious.
"I want to find him again," Laxus said plainly. "I thought maybe you knew more. Could help me look for clues."
Erza frowned. "I think we should let him move on his own. Chasing after him would only disturb whatever path he's walking."
Laxus didn't budge. "Maybe we should disturb him. He made us stronger, Erza. You feel it too, don't you? The change. The clarity. What if there's a reason he shared his power? What if there's an enemy out there even he needs help with?"
Erza hesitated.
She remembered Naruto's presence when they'd met in the public bath—separated by nothing but a thin barrier, exchanging words like two old souls briefly reunited. He hadn't flaunted his power, but he hadn't needed to. He was calm, composed, confident. Invincible.
"I doubt there's an enemy like that," she finally said. "He wasn't just strong—he was... complete. There was no hesitation in his eyes."
She looked down, her tone softening. "We will meet again. But if he seeks us out—or if fate crosses our paths. Running after him without reason feels wrong. It dishonors the grace he left us with."
Laxus exhaled slowly and dropped himself onto the swing behind them. It creaked under his weight.
"How troublesome," he muttered. "But fine. Let's train together. Help the others grow. Just in case."
Erza smiled gently. "Of course. I've already begun a new training regimen. Mr. Naruto gave me advice on it when we talked."
She blushed faintly, her mind flicking back to that oddly peaceful conversation across the steam-filled wall of the bathhouse. Naruto's voice had been calm, gentle—even as he spoke of battle.
From the shadows nearby, Makarov stood with his arms folded behind a thick oak tree, his face unusually serious. He'd been curious ever since the strange disturbance last week—and now he had names and a face.
"Naruto…"
The name lingered in his thoughts like a thorn.
His expression twisted.
'What kind of man enchants Erza... and now even Laxus? What did he do to them?'
A small vein pulsed in his forehead.
'This man seduced my grandson into loyalty. What kind of sorcery is this? I'm not losing Laxus to some smiling traveler with sweet words and mysterious power!'
Makarov clenched his tiny fists.
'I'll find this Naruto myself. And if he's a threat… I'll be the one to put him down. I've seen demons wear kind smiles before… and I'm not fooled that easily.'
He vanished into the wind, already making plans.
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While Makarov departed the guild with quiet resolve and rising suspicion, not everyone shared his cautious patience.
Natsu, Gray, and Lucy had overheard just enough of the whispers—about Laxus's sudden change, Erza's mysterious inspiration, and a stranger called "Naruto"—to feel their competitive fires reignite.
"Laxus and Mystogan are leveling up?!" Natsu yelled, practically bouncing on the spot.
"I'm not letting them leave me in the dust," Gray muttered, crossing his arms. "And I've already been left behind enough."
Lucy, ever the voice of reason (and concern), had tried to remind them that this was their first S-rank mission without permission.
But they were already gone.
Their target: Galuna Island—a land cursed by demons and darkness, the perfect place to prove themselves worthy of the spotlight.
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Far away, in the vast, open fields near the port city of Rana, the air shimmered with energy and wild motion.
A blur shot across the landscape—fiery footprints burning into the earth, not from destruction but sheer momentum.
Ark, the mythical beast, was running free.
His body blazed with controlled heat, each stride a rhythm of power. The heavy magical weights on his limbs slowed him just enough to keep the land intact beneath him. Otherwise, he'd be vaporizing the wind itself.
Upon Ark's back sat Naruto, long golden hair dancing behind him, robes flapping wildly like the banner of a war god descending from heaven.
He looked relaxed, serene even, his eyes half-lidded as the razor wind cut against his skin.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"This isn't so bad," he mused. "Sometimes I forget I can cancel the barrier and just… feel."
He let his fingers slice through the rushing air, feeling every whip of it like a child sticking their hand out a carriage window.
The sun gleamed high above. Ark's fire didn't wane, and the earth itself seemed to sing under each impact of his paws.
Naruto was in no rush. He could've arrived at Galuna in seconds if he wanted—but that would be missing the point.
"Timing is everything," he said softly, eyes twinkling. "And there's always something unexpected waiting when you move just slow enough to notice it."
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Naruto had seen many cities in his life—some with sky-piercing towers, others carved into mountains, and one or two that didn't technically sit on land at all—but the port city of Rana still managed to surprise him.
From the crest of the grassy hill where he stood, the city rolled out below like a child's haphazard painting: wooden and stone buildings packed too close together, slanted roofs stacked like puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit, and smoke curling lazily from chimneys as if it, too, wasn't in a particular hurry.
There was the unmistakable tang of salt and fish in the air, mixed with something far less poetic—probably tobacco and unwashed socks—and down at the docks, ships bobbed like lazy ducks, their sails snapping in the wind.
"Charming," Naruto murmured, his lips quirking in amusement. "Smells like an old sock drawer at sea."
He tilted his head and gave the place a proper once-over. There were no tall spires or orderly cobblestones here. The houses had personality—if personality meant wonky doors, seaweed-covered signs, and an abundance of laundry flapping shamelessly from windows.
"Maybe we'll meet some pirates," he added to himself with a grin.
Just as he leapt effortlessly down the hill, landing with the ease of a feather on the wind, a thundering set of hooves clattered past him on the gravel path. A young woman in mismatched armor reined in her horse just long enough to shout—
"Oi, old man! Don't curse the city with your jinxing tongue. We don't need the Beast Pirates showing up again!"
Her companion—a skinny fellow who looked like he'd lost a fight with a wardrobe—nodded in frantic agreement before the pair disappeared around the bend.
Naruto paused, blinking in bemusement.
"Old man?" he echoed, then chuckled as Ark snorted beside him. "That's new."
It had been quite a while since anyone had spoken to him like that. Usually, people bowed, ran away, or tried to challenge him (with varying degrees of success and hospital bills). But here? In this disheveled, noisy port city? He was just another traveler with dusty boots.
And he liked it.
Rana, unlike the pristine towns Naruto had passed through, wore its wildness proudly. It had no protective walls like Oshibana, no guards glaring at everyone with suspicion. Instead, it had alleys full of half-suspicious merchants, hawkers with questionable wares, and musicians who hadn't bathed in recent memory but could charm the rust off a nail with a fiddle.
People milled about in every direction—some half-dressed for a beach party, others bundled like they expected a snowstorm. Naruto passed a man arguing with a parrot, a woman selling "lucky" sea urchins, and a trio of children who attempted (badly) to pick his pocket and then ran away laughing when he ruffled their hair instead.
It was chaotic, noisy, slightly smelly, and Naruto found it all thoroughly delightful.
"Reminds me of those early days," he muttered, patting Ark's head. "When everything was loud, unpredictable… and smelled like questionable stew."
And speaking of stew—
His stomach gave a long, theatrical growl.
Food.
After sniffing the air like a bloodhound on a mission, Naruto followed the wafting scent of something rich and savory. He bypassed a tavern that looked like it doubled as a fight club, avoided a stall selling what appeared to be deep-fried octopus eyeballs, and finally came to a stop in front of a modest wooden building with a crooked sign that read:
The Siren
The paint was peeling, and the windows were fogged with the promise of steam and warmth. A single, chipped bell above the door gave a merry jingle as he stepped inside.
Inside was better than he'd hoped.
The Siren was small but cozy—wooden beams overhead, mismatched chairs, a fireplace roaring at the back, and the thick aroma of something meaty simmering in a pot. A bard in the corner strummed a lute and sang a song about a lovesick kraken who'd fallen for a lighthouse.
Several sailors, merchants, and a suspicious number of cloaked individuals glanced up as Naruto entered but then looked away when they saw his smile (and perhaps also because Ark, sitting outside, let out a low growl of disapproval at the glares).
A cheerful woman with hair the color of burnt toast appeared from the back, holding a tray of steaming bowls.
"Welcome to The Siren! Sit wherever you like, love. Today's special is seared kraken rump with lemon butter and roasted tubers!"
Naruto blinked. "Kraken rump?"
"Caught just this morning! Swam too close to shore and got stuck under a fishing boat. Poor thing never had a chance."
Naruto gave her a dazzling grin. "I'll take two."
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Music, laughter, and the warm scent of grilled fish, spiced rum, and something unidentifiably sweet flooded his senses. It was a whirl of color and chaos. Waiters darted between tables with the grace of dancers—probably were dancers in their off hours. Patrons of all shapes, sizes, and degrees of sobriety leaned back in mismatched chairs, raising their mugs in unison to a haunting melody.
At the far end of the room, shrouded by amber light and velvet curtains, was the singer. Or rather—the Siren.
Her voice wasn't just sound. It was liquid heat, poured into the ears and straight down to the spine. Naruto couldn't even understand the language, but he didn't need to. The song wasn't made to be understood. It was made to be felt.
He took a step forward, then another, and before he knew it—
"Hey! Watch it, Grandpa!" someone laughed.
Naruto looked down just in time to realize he was being swept—literally—into the crowd that had formed a dancing circle around the stage. Feet moved of their own accord, pulled by the music's gravitational force, and then—
She appeared.
The girl.
Tall, golden-skinned, and radiating the carefree wildness of a storm barely leashed. She wore a bikini top and a miniskirt made from animal skin, with a long white cape draped over her shoulders like she was cosplaying a pirate admiral who had gotten lost at a beach party. Her short blond hair flared out with each sway of her hips. She looked equal parts dangerous and delightful.
"Hey there, handsome," she said, eyes half-lidded from drink but glinting with mischief. "Not what I expected from an old man. You got moves?"
Naruto gave a crooked grin. "I've got more than moves, sweetheart. But we'll let the dance decide."
Without another word, he took her hand.
They started slow, letting the rhythm seep into their bones. Their bodies moved in time to the music, undulating like waves lapping at a midnight shore. Her hands rested easily on his shoulders, his on her slim waist, guiding her in smooth, lazy circles around the floor.
And then the beat shifted.
Faster. Hotter.
Naruto raised her hand, twirled her once—twice—and pulled her close again. The tension between them coiled, snapping and crackling like summer lightning. He dipped her low, nearly to the floor, and she came back up laughing, breathless.
People stopped to watch.
They couldn't help it. The pair moved with a fluid grace that was hard to look away from—like fire and smoke locked in a hypnotic chase. They circled, approached, retreated, spun like constellations dancing on the edge of collision.
Naruto, who had once tangoed with gods and demons, now tangoed with a stranger whose eyes promised mischief and maybe a bit of madness.
Then the music swelled.
A new voice—the voice—cut through the room like silk wrapped in heat:
Zara Zara Behekta Hain, Mehekta Hain Aaj To Mera Tan Badan...
The Siren had returned, her song sweeping through the tavern like incense. Sensual, but not vulgar. Intimate, but not crude. It was a song of yearning, of bodies aching to be held and hearts afraid to be alone.
Naruto's partner visibly shivered. Her eyes softened, her movements slowed. He caught her by the waist again, their foreheads brushing now, breaths mingling.
Main Pyaasi Hoon Mujhe Bhar Le Apni Baahon Mein…
The song whispered through the floorboards and into their blood.
The dance changed.
Their steps slowed, became more deliberate. A gentle stroke here. A touch of fingertips there. A slide of palms over skin and cloth. It wasn't dancing anymore. It was... something older. Something primal.
They broke apart, barely.
Spun.
Met again.
When they stopped, the girl clung to him, eyes half-lidded, drunk not on alcohol, but on the dance, the music, and something else that couldn't be named.
Her voice was a whisper.
"I don't usually do this. But tonight…" She leaned in closer. "Let's not pretend we're strangers anymore."
Naruto blinked.
And then laughed.
Not out of mockery or surprise, but because—genuinely—it had been so long since he had met someone so beautifully unfiltered.
"You're something else," he murmured, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. "Let's see where this night takes us."
The Siren's final note rang out like a kiss blown to sea.
And the night rolled on, drunk on rhythm, wild with promise.