As Gray fought his own battle, the rest of the Fiore wizards weren't exactly taking a break either. In the massive room with a very high ceiling, everyone was engaged in their own fight. Especially, a lightning mage in a blue robe swung a crackling bolt of lightning at Ichiya, who was—unsurprisingly—too busy striking poses mid-fight to take things seriously.
"Wait, my handsome friend!" Ichiya said as he twisted out of the way, his hand dramatically brushing his hair back. "Perhaps we started on the wrong foot, Maybe we can talk things out like civilized gentlemen! Meen."
"Shut up and fight seriously, you toddler!" the lightning mage barked, his patience snapping as he launched another strike with his lightning bolt in his hand. Sparks danced wildly around him, but it was still not enough.
"Don't compare me to toddlers!" Ichiya gasped, scandalized as he dodged another slash, landing in a flamboyant crouch. "They're not nearly as handsome as I am. Meen!"
The lightning mage froze mid-swing, his mind conjuring the horrifying image of a chubby toddler with Ichiya's face and mustache. His expression darkened instantly. "No… no, no, no—ugh!"
"Ahhh!" he screamed, trying to erase the cursed image from his brain. His control faltered, and his magic went berserk—bolts of lightning erupted all around him. One massive spark shot upward, then came crashing down straight toward Ichiya.
"Men—!" was all Ichiya managed before the explosion hit. The blast filled the area with smoke and thunder, sending Ichiya flying backward. When the dust settled, Ichiya was lying on his back on the floor, his entire body charred black like a burnt cookie.
The lightning wizard stared at the burned cookie for a moment, pale and trembling, before muttering, "What kind of demon was I fighting…" and sprinted off in the opposite direction as fast as his legs could carry him.
But before he could rejoin the others, another attack came flying his way. He barely jumped aside, his eyes widening as five cards embedded themselves into the ground where he'd just been standing.
"Card Magic: Explosion Stars!"
The cards detonated all at once. The blasts weren't massive, but they were sharp and controlled—enough to completely incapacitate anyone hit directly.
Sparken wiped the sweat from his forehead, breathing in relief.
'Please be a normal person this time' he thought.
When he looked up, he saw a woman walking toward him—tan skin, confident stride, cards dancing between her fingers, and clothes that were… let's say, a little distracting. Still, to Sparken, it was like sunlight after a thunderstorm.
"Finally! Someone normal!" he shouted, practically on the verge of tears. "Thank you, lady, for attacking me. I thought I'd be haunted by nightmares after today if my only memory of battle was with that guy."
He shuddered as he glanced at Ichiya's charred, twitching body in the distance, quickly averting his eyes.
"Well, you're welcome… I guess?" Cana said, blinking in confusion. She looked at the man in front of her and wondered if she should fight or help him. Is it even okay to hit someone this mentally unstable?
"Yes! Thanks to you, I've been blessed with hope again!" he said, pounding his chest dramatically. "My Name is Sparken. What about you, lady?"
"Cana," she replied flatly, already fanning out a few cards. Polite or not, he was still the enemy. She needed to end this quickly.
Sparken sighed, shoulders slumping. "Miss Cana, I'll be honest—I hate fighting women. But if I don't, Miss Margrada will take both of my arms, or legs….or both. So, uh… here I go!"
He spread his arms wide, lightning crackling between his fingers.
"Lightning Arrows!"
Dozens of lightning bolts shot toward Cana in rapid succession. Cana, however, instead of retreating, rushed forward, ducking and weaving through the barrage with fluid steps.
"I am guessing that lightning magic just makes every user mentally unstable. Poor guy." Cana murmured as she tossed three cards high into the air, her magic flaring around her fingertips.
"Card Magic: Arcana Burst!"
The cards glowed and fused before bursting apart in a dazzling explosion. From the smoke, hundreds of glowing cards appeared—raining down toward Sparken like a storm of shooting stars.
Sparken clenched his fists. "Lightning Array!"
He slammed his palms together, and lightning surged outward in all directions. The shockwave cracked the floor beneath him, sparks swirling like serpents around his body. Each descending card that touched the lightning burned to ash in midair.
Then, with a fierce motion, the arcs of electricity shot outward—zigzagging toward Cana faster than the eye could follow.
The reflection of those lightning serpents flickered in Cana's eyes. She didn't flinch. Instead, she threw a cluster of cards forward with practiced precision.
"Card Magic: Thunderbolt's Fate!"
All her cards merged, forming a radiant sigil before releasing a massive bolt of blue lightning that collided with Sparken's yellow one. The two forces met in the air with a deafening crack, blue and gold light clashing like dueling storms.
Stray bolts ripped through the ground around them, leaving deep scorch marks and splitting the stone tiles.
Cana's grin widened as the shockwaves settled. "You know," she said casually, brushing her hair back, "if you're gonna call yourself a lightning mage, you might wanna step it up. I've grown up watching lightning that's way faster—and a lot scarier—than yours."
But before Sparken could argue, a sudden shout interrupted both of them.
"Mud Wave!"
A black-robed wizard on the side slammed his palms into the ground, summoning a massive torrent of mud that surged toward her. Cana immediately switched the cards in her hand, ready to defend—
—but she didn't have to.
"White Wave!"
A shimmering current of snow burst forth from the other direction, colliding head-on with the mud. The two waves clashed, but the snow quickly overwhelmed the mud, freezing it solid mid-motion.
The black-robed wizard froze as well, realizing too late what was happening. "Wait, wait, I surrender! I gi—" His voice was cut off as the icy wave buried him completely, sealing him in a frozen mound.
Cana blinked, turning to see her savior: a blond-haired boy, no older than fourteen, standing with his palm raised.
"How dare you sneak-attack the beautiful big sister! You should be ashamed," Eve declared in outrage, his tone more of a pout than a threat.
A sorry could barely be heard from under the snow, making Eve lower his palm.
Cana laughed, her usual grin returning. "Thank you, little brother. I'll buy you a beer later."
Eve puffed out his chest, pleased, though neither considered that Eve was still too young to drink beer.
Their lighthearted moment was cut short as a familiar buzzing filled the air. The lightning mage from before—Sparken—gathered a huge amount of magic around him; his entire body was coated in crackling yellow energy. His black hair stood straight up, and veins of light pulsed through his arms.
"Lightning Crush!" he shouted, dashing forward at blinding speed.
But he didn't get far, or he could not get far.
A massive hand grabbed his leg mid-charge, yanking him upside down.
"Now, now," came a charming voice, making Sparken Shudder. "We were having such a heartfelt conversation, Mister Sparken. It's very rude to run away in the middle of a fight between gentlemen."
Sparken's eyes widened in horror. He looked behind as he turned his head mechanically—and instantly wished he hadn't.
The orange-haired man who'd been a charred mess minutes ago was now back. And not only is he back, but Ichiya's muscles have ballooned and still expanding, ripping his clothes at the seams.
"Power Perfume."
Ichiya soon stood taller, broader, and far more terrifying.
"T-there's nothing gentlemanly about you!" Sparken squeaked, his voice rising several octaves in terror.
Ichiya grinned, his teeth gleaming. "It seems you are in need of a lesson before we continue our discussion, meen."
Before Sparken could react, Ichiya swung him by the leg and slammed him into the ground like a ragdoll. The castle floor shook. Then he did it again. And again. And again.
By the fifth slam, Sparken had gone limp, his eyes spinning.
When Ichiya finally stopped, he carefully set the unconscious lightning wizard down, patting him gently on the head. "A true gentleman never overdoes it. Meen."
Cana stood frozen, her mouth slightly open. As for Eve, he looked at Ichiya with eyes full of stars.
"That's our master Ichiya!".
"…Well," Cana said after a moment, pressing her palms together in mock prayer, "I hope every lightning wizard in Earthland meets the same fate."
But her wish was interrupted by another shout.
"Flame Fist!"
A gigantic fire-formed fist shot toward her and Eve, smashing into the ground and cracking the tiles. They both jumped aside effortlessly, landing a few meters away.
"I have to admit," Cana said, brushing some dust off her arm, "the royal castle's floors are more durable than I thought."
But Cana did not waste time as she tossed two glowing cards toward the fire wizard who had attacked. The cards exploded in front of him, blasting him backward.
"Ichiya, Eve!" she shouted, pointing toward the ongoing battle where Hibiki, Ren, and Shawn were fighting a cluster of black-robed wizards. "Let's go! We don't have time to waste—we have to take care to them before they can cause more problems."
Eve nodded sharply, and Ichiya—still hulking and terrifying—gave a dramatic thumbs-up. Together, the three of them charged toward the fray.
As for Totomaru, he stood locked in battle against a puppet wizard draped in a blue robe. The area around them was already half-burned, the floor cracked and scorched from their previous exchanges.
The puppet wizard smirked, his fingers twitching slightly as two rings glowed on his hands. "You seem very angry, fire mage. Is it because I killed your guildmates? I have to say they were quite disappointing. Wizards of a top guild of a kingdom? What a joke. " His grin twisted cruelly.
"Red Flame!"
Totomaru didn't even reply with words—he just hurled a massive red fireball straight at the man's face. "Shut up. I don't care about those losers. I'm just here to get revenge for daring to imprison me. You might have caught me off guard back then..But now I'm going to burn you and your damn puppets to ash!"
The puppet wizard laughed loudly, unfazed by the incoming inferno. Both of his rings flared, summoning two life-sized wooden puppets in front of him—each one carrying half of a massive shield.
"Puppet Show: Castle Defense!"
The puppets combined their shields just in time to block the fireball. Flames surged against the barrier, but when the smoke cleared, the puppets were still standing. Their shields were on fire—but that's all. The fire was not damaging the puppets at all.
Totomaru's eyes widened. "What the—? How could wood not catch fire?"
The puppet wizard chuckled smugly. "Did you really think I'd be such an easy target? Of course, I knew my puppets would be weak against flame. So, I made quite a few puppets from a special type of wood that takes a very long time to burn to ash. You're not the first fire wizard I've fought after all."
He twitched his fingers again, and the two puppets lunged forward, spears pointed toward Totomaru.
But before they could strike, their movements froze.
"What? Why aren't they moving?" The puppet wizard's grin faltered. He wiggled his fingers again—nothing. The puppets twitched once, then turned around, their empty eyes locking onto him instead.
"Wait—no! Stop!"
Both puppets swung their spears at their own master, forcing him to leap back in panic. He barely dodged as one spear sliced through the air where his chest had been a second earlier.
"What's happening?! Why aren't they listening to me!?" he yelled.
Totomaru stepped forward, his body outlined in red light, both hands blazing with fire. His expression was calm—but there was clear anger in his eyes.
"Your mistake," Totomaru said, voice low and steady, "was thinking that I can only cast fire magic. I don't just create flames—I can also control them. Every bit of fire around me, I can control it, and your puppets might be immune to burning fast, but they still are on fire now."
The flames burning on the puppets flared brighter as if answering his call. "As long as your ugly dolls are burning, I can control them however I please. Seems my connection to fire is stronger than your connection to your toys."
The puppet wizard stumbled back, disbelief etched on his face.
"Shut up!" he screamed. "Puppets are perfect beings! They can never betray me! They're better than you ugly people!"
Ironically, he had to dive aside again as one of his own puppets swung at him like an executioner.
Totomaru's twisted grin sharpened as he raised one flaming hand. "Looks like your perfect friends disagree then."
"It's you who's wrong. How dare you turn such beautiful things to your bidding?" the puppet wizard screamed, clenching his fingers until the rings on his hands flared and then collapsed in a bright, painful snap.
At his command, hundreds of puppets poured from a shimmering rift—puppets of every size, some barely the height of a cat, others three times the size of a man. They spilled behind him like an army of carved nightmares.
"I will destroy you," the puppet wizard howled. "I will rip out your organs and make you my puppet. Yes, that's right—your punishment. It is to be a puppet for eternity! The ugliest puppet in Earthland." His voice rang with madness as he pushed every strand of his control into the horde. The puppets surged forward, their wooden limbs and iron joints creaking in unison.
But Totomaru did not flinch. He walked forward through the flames. He might have looked calm, but anyone who looked closely could see the rage burning behind his eyes.
A few days earlier, Totomaru remembered being in a train carriage with his followers from Phantom Lord, heading for Joya for a mission. Laughter had floated through the cabin, light and careless in a way that made the memory sting all the more.
"Hey, Totomaru," a middle-aged man had said, glancing up from his newspaper. "Think we'll run into Fairy Tail this time?"
"If they show up, they better be ready," a cute-looking girl, barely twenty, had answered, pouting as she stared at a magazine featuring a long white-haired model dressed in a very beautiful swimsuit..
"Hah, Lyra, you're just jealous because Mirajane gets all the attention, aren't you?" a boy around Lyra's age teased, merciless in his laughter.
"Shut up, Niko," Lyra had snapped, launching a playful barrage of punches at him. "I saw you staring at that cover a dozen times. Do you think she's prettier than me?"
"No," Niko said, tilting his head in confusion. "I was actually looking at someone more beautiful."
Lyra stopped and, although she knew she didn't actually stand above the model on the cover, a faint blush warmed her cheeks. "Hmph. If you want to date me, some third-rate compliments won't cut it," she said, folding her arms—but the smile at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.
A kid of fourteen piped up from the corner. "But is Fairy Tail really going to be our enemy, Totomaru-bro?"
"I like them a lot," the boy went on. "They're always doing stupid things, but they seem to have a lot of fun too. Also, our master started this whole mess when he pissed off Fairy Tail's master."
Totomaru, who had led the team for several years already, opened his eyes slowly and looked at his teammates. "Rex, they're getting way too arrogant. If such a guild managed to become number one, then people would lose confidence in the rest of the Fiore guild as well," Totomaru said seriously. "So, a fight between us is inevitable. Either now or in the distant future.
Silence fell over the carriage. Everyone stared at one another, thinking the same bitter thought.
Finally, Garron—the gruff, middle-aged wizard—spoke up. "If it comes to that," he said, grinning, "we'll fight for you, boss. We don't hate master Jose, but compared to his wishes, we like following your orders. So if you want us to, we'll do it." His smile was rough but true.
Everyone else nodded, with a smiling face.. But Totomaru harshly said, "If you want to keep following me, then you have to show more fighting spirit than that, you bastards." But nobody noticed, as he turned his head to look out the window, a small, almost tender smile had creased his face. The memory of that train—of the jokes, the petty jealousies, the small warmth—arrived as a knife rubbing in his bone now.
Back in the present, Totomaru's pupils narrowed as his vision was filled with the clattering rhythm of hundreds of wooden feet. The massive array of puppets had everyone's attention.
Totomaru used to love being the center of attention, loved the envy that came with it. Today, though, there was no thrill.
All Totomaru could think of was that scene — the moment his followers died.
Lyra, bloodied and broken, was crawling across the ground, reaching desperately for Niko's lifeless hand. Just as her trembling fingers brushed his, a puppet descended from behind and drove its sword through her back. The blade pinned her to the floor, her final cry echoing through the burning air.
"Those idiots…" Totomaru murmured now, voice trembling. "Why did they follow me?"
The flames in his right hand flared brighter, the colors shifting wildly — crimson, blue, violet — each hue flickering with his rage and grief.
He remembered Garron, throwing himself in front of Rex to block a fatal strike. But the blast took his life instead.
And then the final moment — the reason Totomaru had survived. He remembered Rex's small hands shoving him out of the way just before a stone spear was going to hit Totomaru. When Totomaru had looked back, Rex was already lying still — but his eyes, those bright, young eyes, held no hatred or regret. They were calm, almost peaceful, as if he was content with the choice he'd made.
"Those damned idiots… What were they thinking!?" Totomaru roared.
An explosion of magic burst around him, shaking the ground beneath his feet. Cracks spidered across the floor as his aura flared, the heat distorting the very air. He stepped forward, one leg ahead of the other.
He clenched his flaming hand and threw a punch furiously toward the incoming wall of puppets.
"Rainbow Flame!"
The massive fireball that erupted from his fist wasn't just red or any single color— it was a storm of colors, seven shades blending into one. It tore through the air, a roaring inferno that devoured everything in its path. The blast swept across the chamber, burning every puppet into ash in an instant.
The flames reflected in the puppet wizard's eyes — wide, trembling, and filled with disbelief. He couldn't move. He couldn't even scream.
He had never imagined all of his puppets could be obliterated so easily.
Across the battlefield, Kairon — the space wizard fighting Gray now— teleported far away from Gray in an instant. He raised his palm towards the puppet wizard, panic flickering in his voice.
"Swi—"
But before he could finish the spell, three glowing yellow holograms appeared in front of him, flashing with exclamation marks. His eyes widened.
"Wait—what—?"
"Explode!" Hibiki's voice rang out from across the chamber. He knew Kairon would try to save the puppet wizard, so he was ready for it.
The holograms detonated. The blast knocked Kairon backward, his body flung through the air like a rag doll. He could only watch helplessly as the puppet wizard screamed — and then vanished in the blaze of Totomaru's fire. When the flames finally died, not even ashes remained.
Silence followed. The air was hot and heavy with smoke. Everyone in the massive room stared, wide-eyed, at the place where the puppet wizard had stood.
As for Totomaru, he swayed once, then collapsed forward onto the floor, drained completely. His vision blurred, but the images in his mind remained sharp — the faces of his friends, their laughter, their promise to follow him everywhere.
"You damned liars…" he whispered weakly. "Now what do I do alone…?"
A single tear slipped from his right eye as darkness claimed him, and Totomaru drifted into unconsciousness from overusing magic.