The years melted into months, and the months into a new year. It was now March, X774.
A lot of time had passed, and the passage of those years was evident in Blake. Now eleven years of age, he was no longer the small child who had stumbled into Magnolia. He had shot up in height, reaching an impressive 5'9", giving him a lean, powerful, and deceptively mature look. He had even styled his black hair—now longer—to resemble the slicked-back look of Shanks, giving him an air of quiet confidence. His build was similar to Portgas D. Ace—lithe, muscled, and compact, a testament to his grueling training regimen.
Despite the physical leaps, his Haki progress had frustratingly stagnated. He had maximized the basic output of Observation Haki and Armament Haki—his awareness was constant, his black coating near-instantaneous—but he simply couldn't get past the basics. The ability to see fleeting seconds into the future vision remained locked, a constant, irritating blind spot. Likewise, the intricate application of Advanced Armament Haki, which was needed to cause internal destruction, eluded him entirely. He had a theory, one forged in the heat of countless spars: he needed to face a true monster, a life-or-death battle that would shatter his mental and physical limits. He needed a crucible.
On the other hand, his Anti-Magic Progress had increased dramatically. He had developed a few basic techniques—including a short-range Anti-Magic pulse and a persistent, focused Anti-Magic field he could maintain for extended periods. The ability was potent, but the true source of his power, Tensa Zangetsu, remained silent, the black blade still refusing to respond to anything beyond basic physical strikes.
His professional life had also escalated. He was now consistently taking A-Rank Quests—mostly dealing with groups of powerful bandits, rogue mages, and high-tier magical animal extermination. He was renowned in the guild for his speed and lack of collateral damage, a trait rare among Fairy Tail mages.
The guild was lively. Gildarts had surprised everyone by not going on a quest for about six months, genuinely doting on Cana. He showered her with gifts and affection to an extent that Cana, tired of being smothered, eventually had to tell him he could go on a few quests if he wished.
Seeing his daughter try to push him away made Gildarts wear a genuinely sad face, but he honored her wish and eventually left again.
During his time at home, he had started trying to teach Cana Crush Magic, a challenging path for a beginner. However, once he left, Cana became fascinated with the fortunes and fate read in Card Magic and was now practicing both types of magic, often to hilarious, destructive results.
Ivan was still the same sourpuss, occasionally drifting into the guild to see Laxus, invariably creating a bad mood. Everyone in the guild, respecting Makarov, simply steered clear of him.
Blake's battles with Laxus also intensified. Their spars were now epic clashes that usually ended with the entire backyard needing repairs. In an attempt to improve his friend's raw fighting skill, Blake had shown Laxus how to use Navy Six Styles (Rokushiki). Laxus, already possessing immense speed with his Lightning Magic, quickly started mastering the techniques, beginning with the aerial mobility of Geppo. Within months, Laxus could proficiently use five of the techniques, with Soru being the only one that he didn't learn, simply because his Lightning Body transformation already exceeded Soru's speed limit.
Today, Blake stood in front of the quest board. His eyes were focused on a particular request: a high A-Rank mission located in the desolate Land of Isvan concerning a terrifying monster rampaging through the northern ice fields. The payout was huge, but the danger was legendary.
Blake knew exactly what this was. This was the quest that eventually became an S-Class mission. This was Deliora, the colossal demon trapped in ice by Ur. This was the perfect, desperate, overwhelming threat he had been waiting for to push his Haki.
He moved fast, plucking the paper and taking it straight to Maria to get it stamped quickly, before its infamy pushed it up to S-Class quest status, which would be off-limits to him.
"Be safe, Blake," Maria warned, her expression serious as she saw the sheer danger of the posting.
Blake gave quick goodbyes to Cana, who was practicing a complicated card spread, and Laxus, who simply gave him a sharp nod. "Don't get yourself frozen, Blake. I want a rematch when you get back."
"I'll return in a week," Blake promised, securing his pack and the sheathed Tensa Zangetsu. "The quest location is far, but I need to be fast."
He took the fast train to the Land of Isvan. The journey was long and cold, but Blake spent the time meditating, calming his spirit, and honing his Observation Haki.
He reached the train station in the Land of Isvan, a cold, isolated outpost far north. The moment he stepped off, he was hit by a biting wind and the absolute silence of the frozen wilderness. He immediately started making his way north, towards the rumored last sighting of Deliora from the quest gossip.
His journey was silent, focused, and fast. He used Soru and Geppo to cover ground quickly, leaping over icy ridges and across patches of deep snow.
As he was pushing himself over a low, snow-covered hill, his Observation Haki gave a weak, distant alarm. It wasn't the powerful, chilling dread of a monster. It was a faint, frantic fear, accompanied by physical distress.
He slowed his pace, eyes scanning the white expanse. Then he saw her.
A little girl of perhaps eleven years old, trudging through the snow with great difficulty. Her breath was labored, misting heavily in the cold air. She was clearly alone, dressed in clothes that were far too thin for the environment, and pushing herself to the point of exhaustion.
Blake frowned. This was a death march. He immediately made his way towards her.
As he closed the distance, he finally saw her face: pale, strained, and framed by short, dark hair. And the deep, knowing look in her eyes. Blake's mind, drawing on his canon knowledge, made a startling, immediate identification.
This is Ultear. The girl who would grow up to be one of the most tragic and dangerous villains in the future. She looked about the same age as him, perhaps a bit younger, but utterly terrified.
He pushed the final fifty yards, moving at top speed. Just as he reached her, her strength gave out. Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted, collapsing into the snow.
Blake caught her before she hit the ground. She was ice cold, her pulse weak and thready. He lifted her easily onto his back, securing her with one arm. He instantly activated Geppo and shot up into the air, leaping from snowdrift to snowdrift, using the altitude to look for a place—a shelter, a cave, anything—where he could safely rest her and bring her temperature back up.
What Blake, entirely focused on survival, didn't know was the dark consequence of his timing.
Less than sixty seconds after he vanished with Ultear on his back, a black, ominous flying ship bearing the Grimoire Heart symbol descended slowly into the clearing he had just left. The powerful Dark Guild was searching for her.
A figure in the ship's doorway scanned the footprints in the snow—a faint trail of small, collapsing steps, quickly erased by a set of impossibly clean, fast, long leaps that disappeared into the air.
"She was just here," a muffled voice aboard the ship growled. "She ran. And someone took her."
Unable to track Blake's unique aerial movements and seeing the footprints vanish, the Grimoire Heart ship could only curse their luck. They ascended and continued scouting the surrounding area, determined to recapture their prized test subject.
Meanwhile, Blake spent ten frantic minutes using Geppo, scanning the mountains. He finally spotted a recessed crevice—a small, dark cave. He dropped down and hurried inside.
The cave was empty, cold, and shielded from the wind. Perfect. He quickly dropped his backpack, pulled out a thick, thermal blanket (a necessary item for the north), and spread it on the floor. He gently laid Ultear down, covering her fully.
He quickly went back outside, using his sword to cut and gather wood from some nearby deadfalls. Returning quickly, he used a magic lighter to start a fire in the center of the cave, expertly banking the flames to generate maximum, smokeless heat. The temperature inside the small shelter began to rise almost instantly.
His next priority was food and hydration. From his backpack, he pulled out a collapsible pot, a thermos of melted snow, dried vegetables, and chunks of cured small meat pieces. He started preparing a nutrient-rich soup for Ultear—something light and easy to digest. At the same time, he skewered some of the larger, tougher meat cuts on a stick and placed them over the fire, cooking his own meal.
As he was eating, tearing into the first, hot chunk of meat, Ultear woke up. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the firelight. She looked around, her mind cloudy. When her gaze landed on Blake—a tall boy with sharp eyes, sitting beside a fire, eating cooked meat with a long black sword leaning against the wall—she instantly became wary. She didn't know where she was or who this stranger was.
Blake, sensing her awakening through his Haki, didn't startle. He turned his head and gave her a simple, non-threatening look.
"Hope you had a nice sleep," he said, his voice calm and low. "You were very tired, and your body was dangerously cold. Sit by the fire for a bit, get warm. When you feel up to it, you can drink some of this soup."
Ultear, though intensely wary, understood the immediate danger of the cold. She slowly, stiffly, moved towards the fire, positioning herself carefully to absorb the radiating heat.
Blake didn't press her. He quietly poured some soup for her into a spare bowl and placed it within her reach.
Ultear, driven by a deep, hollow hunger and the chill in her bones, took the bowl hesitantly. The warmth and smell were intoxicating. She began drinking her soup, savoring the liquid heat.
Blake, watching her out of the corner of his eye, continued eating his meat.
As Ultear drank, her eyes kept drifting from the soup to the sizzling meat Blake was enjoying. She hadn't eaten anything solid or warm in days. A thin string of drool was slipping from her mouth, her survival instincts overwhelming her fear.
Blake, sensing her longing glance, tore off a small, tender piece of his cooked meat—the best cut. He held it out to her.
"Here," he said simply. "It's good protein. Eat it."
Ultear hesitated for a long moment, studying his face for any sign of trickery or malice. Finding none, she took it hesitantly and ate the meat. The taste was heavenly.
Blake reached into his backpack again and pulled out a small, tightly wrapped piece of dried bread. He gave it to her. "Dunk some of it in the soup and eat. It's easier on the stomach."
After finishing the soup and the shared piece of meat, they sat in silence, the only sound the crackle of the fire. Ultear was no longer shaking, and the color had returned to her lips. She was still guarded, but the simple act of shared food and warmth had begun to chip away at her deep-seated fear. They both sat by the fire, two eleven-year-olds on the run, one chasing a demon and one running from one, in a small cave in the frozen wilderness.