The clash of fire and ice erupted once more. Just two days after Gray and Cana's battle, the arena witnessed another fiery showdown between blazing flames and frosty glaciers.
Boom!
A flaming blade sliced through the ice, while endless cold froze the flames in their tracks. The glacier slowly melted, and the fire began to flicker out. The tug-of-war between red and white lasted nearly a minute, but gradually, the flames weakened, unable to keep up. The icy white surged forward, taking control.
Sensing the shift, Mirajane didn't hold back. She poured more power into her magic, and a massive glacier roared forth, snuffing out Natsu's flames entirely, freezing the entire arena!
Feeling the biting chill in the air, Kira marveled, "That power—it's gotta be at least two or three of Gray's ultimate moves!"
Poor Gray, unknowingly reduced to a unit of magical measurement.
Crash!
With a loud thud, Natsu was sent flying by the icy onslaught. He couldn't defeat Mirajane after all, and his dream of "beating that demon Zeref to prove his strength" went up in smoke.
Sparring with a mage of an opposing element helps sharpen one's own magic, so ice mages are perfect training partners for Natsu's growth. Sure, he brawls with Gray all the time, but their strength is so close that it's not the most efficient. The demons from Zeref's crew, though? They're like the ultimate experience points for Natsu. Ever since that encounter, his power skyrocketed, and now he's even strong enough to challenge Mirajane. If she hadn't taken on Ace's power and switched to flame mode, Natsu might've actually pulled it off.
The battle ended, and Mirajane dropped her transformation, walking over to help Natsu up with her usual kindness. With that, the day's match concluded, leaving only the final showdown in the tournament. The audience, buzzing with anticipation, began to disperse.
---
Late Night, Fairy Tail Guild
The guild's tavern was dimly lit, with only a faint glow illuminating a rectangular table. A few shadowy figures sat around it, their whispered conversation hinting at something big tied to the tournament.
"Tomorrow's the final battle," said the man at the head of the table, his red hair striking and blue eyes icy. Twin swords hung at his waist, and his stunningly handsome face carried a chilling tone. "Get ready and settle all the bets you placed."
His casual words were enough to bankrupt half the guild.
The dozen or so figures across from him froze, murmuring among themselves. A few even tried to slip away quietly.
Thud!
A sharp sound drew their attention. To the man's left, a wheat-skinned girl slammed a half-empty wooden barrel of ale onto the table, her voice laced with menace. "Anyone who doesn't pay up knows what's coming, right?"
To the man's right, a tiny figure no bigger than a head floated onto the table. Candlelight flickered, revealing blue skin, a white belly, pointed ears, long whiskers, wings, and a tail—definitely not human. Folding his wings, he crossed his arms and said, "You made your bets, so deal with the consequences. I told you to bet on Natsu!"
His cold words sent a chill through the group. They exchanged glances, thinking, Who could've guessed Natsu would make it to the top four with his strength?
A gruff older man smoking a pipe squinted and slammed his fist on the table. "Damn it! Who'd have thought Erza, with her odds, would get knocked out in the round of sixteen? I'm furious!"
"Jeez…" came a sinister, garbled voice. "That just shows she's not all that!"
Everyone knew the speaker was munching on iron. It wasn't the first time they'd seen it, but the thought of someone chowing down on metal like it was fine dining still turned their stomachs.
"Now hold on," said an orange-haired man, fiddling with a ring on his finger. "Erza just had bad luck, that's all."
A shirtless weirdo chimed in, clearly annoyed. "Exactly! You didn't even make it past the preliminaries!"
"You wanna fight, punk?" the iron-eater shot back.
"Anytime!"
Meanwhile, the pipe-smoking man spoke up. "But closing the bets like this feels too hasty. I mean, Laxus didn't even make it past the prelims! This ranking doesn't add up!"
"Yeah, yeah!" another voice piped up. "My babies are not happy about this!"
"Not happy?" The red-haired man stood, half-drawing one of his swords. "Who here dares to disrespect me? Wanna test how sharp my blade is?"
"Hmph!" A dark knight with green hair drew a rapier in response. "You challenge me with a sword? Mine's just as sharp!"
At the same time, a man and woman duo raised their guns. "What century is this? We're talking guns here, people!"
As tensions flared, an elderly voice cut through. "Enough! Stop this nonsense! Do you even realize where you are?"
The voice stunned everyone, and they stammered, "Y-You… why are you here?"
The old man chuckled. "You think there's anything in this guild I don't know about?"
Silence fell. This was someone they couldn't afford to cross.
"You mean… you're part of this bet too?" someone asked.
"Part of it?" The old man opened one eye, giving the speaker a sly glance. "You're too naive."
A realization hit them: No way…
"That's right," the red-haired man said. "This betting pool? It's not just the three of us running it. He's in on it too."
It was shocking but made sense. Aside from the woman chugging ale, everyone else at the table was a tournament judge! A rigged game! They'd clearly manipulated the rankings to cash in big, setting up unfair matchups. The more they thought about it, the more it added up!
The group exchanged silent glances but didn't dare speak out. If they called it out, life in the guild would get rough.
The betting pool was based on each person's final ranking: champion, runner-up, top four, top eight, top sixteen, top thirty in prelims, or failing the qualifiers. You could only bet on one outcome per person, and there were limits on how many could bet on the same spot. For example, betting on Kira for champion meant you couldn't bet on him for runner-up or anyone else for champion.
Naturally, most people bet on Kira and Laxus for champion and runner-up, Mystogan, Erza, and Mirajane for top four, and Natsu, Gray, Gajeel, Juvia, Elfman, Cana, Loki, and Freed for top eight. Some even bet on Lucy, though the odds were low. Better than nothing, right?
But now? Laxus, Gajeel, and Juvia crashed out in the prelims. Erza stopped at the top sixteen. Natsu made it to the top four, and Kira and Mirajane were fighting for the championship. The masterminds behind the bets were raking in a fortune.
A few wanted to protest, but then a round, ball-like figure burst in, shouting, "Trouble! That guy's coming!"
"What? Oh no!"
Panic ensued as everyone scrambled to gather their things. In the dark, they fumbled, tripping over chairs and bumping into each other, creating a chaotic mess.
Outside the guild, Kira, unable to sleep and out for a midnight stroll, heard the commotion. "Weird," he muttered. "Why's the tavern so dark at this hour?"
The Fairy Tail tavern was open 24/7 with rotating staff, so it shouldn't be pitch-black.
Just then, a familiar voice slurred from the roadside. "Drink… keep drinking…"
Kira turned to see Cana, slumped against a massive barrel of ale, looking half-dead.
Why was Cana out here, drunk like this?
He started toward her, but then she stirred. "Ugh… how embarrassing, passing out here… Wait, is that Kira?"
Kira froze, then slowly backed away. "Something's off. Way off."
He was sharp enough to sense trouble. A drunk woman spotting him in the middle of the night? He had to get out of there before she pinned something on him. Better check the guild first.
Cana seemed to catch his suspicion. The drunken act vanished, and she sprang up, charging at him with long strides, clutching her barrel but not throwing it. "You jerk, stop right there! Don't go in!"
She was faking it!
Kira bolted into the guild, crashing through the tavern doors.
Bang!
Under the moonlight, the dark tavern was eerily quiet, with only a swaying chandelier casting faint light. Scattered chairs, bits of iron, cigarette ash, and spilled ale littered the floor.
Kira touched the still-warm chandelier and glanced toward the second floor.
Cana caught up, blocking his view. "Why're you running?"
"You're acting weird tonight," Kira said bluntly. "Something just happened here, didn't it?"
Cana's heart skipped a beat. "Weird? What's weird about me? And what do you mean, 'just happened'?"
"Nothing. Why're you so nervous?"
"Nervous? Am I nervous?"
Kira nodded. "You were a little nervous just now."
"Hahaha…" Cana let out an awkward laugh, turning to sip her ale.
Her booze breath wasn't strong enough for someone who'd passed out drunk. She's hiding something, Kira thought. And not just her—others were here too.
---