Chapter 98: Battle for Fairy Tail X - The Dragon's Tears
Levy's words hung in the air like a death sentence. The cathedral was silent. The storm outside had begun to fade, its rage spent, its purpose unfinished. Laxus stood at the center of the destruction, his body crackling with residual lightning, his eyes fixed on the small blue haired woman who had dared to interrupt his moment of triumph.
"Your grandfather," Levy said again, her voice steady despite her fear. "Master Makarov. He is dying. The strain of the barrier, the stress of watching his children tear each other apart, the illness he has been hiding for months. It is all catching up to him."
Laxus stared at her. For a moment, something flickered across his face. Something that might have been concern or might have been doubt or might have been something else entirely.
Then he smiled.
It was not a kind smile. It was the smile of a man who had been pushed to the edge and had decided to stop caring about what waited below.
"Then his death is convenient," Laxus said. His voice was calm, almost conversational. "With the old man gone, there will be no one to stop me from becoming Master. No one to stand in my way. I will rebuild Fairy Tail from the ground up. I will purge the weak. I will make it strong."
Levy's face went pale. "You cannot mean that. He is your grandfather."
"He is a relic. A weak, sentimental old man who let this guild rot from the inside." Laxus raised his hands above his head. The lightning gathered between them, building and building, a sphere of yellow energy that hummed with the power to end everything. "Fairy Law."
Natsu pushed himself up from the rubble. His body was broken. His magic was spent. His Dragon Force had faded, leaving him weak and shaking. But he watched. He watched as the light grew brighter, hotter, more terrible. He watched as Laxus poured everything he had into the spell that would destroy them all.
The light exploded outward.
It washed over the cathedral, over the square, over the city beyond. It was warm and golden and terrible, the light of judgment, the light of annihilation. Natsu closed his eyes. Gajeel turned his face away. Levy braced herself against the stone.
The light faded.
They were still standing.
Natsu opened his eyes. His body was untouched. His skin was unburned. His heart was still beating. Around him, Gajeel was pushing himself to his feet, his iron scales cracked but intact. Levy was still standing, her hands pressed against her chest, her eyes wide.
The spell had done nothing.
"No," Laxus said. His voice was raw, desperate. "No, that is impossible. Fairy Law destroys my enemies. It destroys anyone I consider a threat. You should be dead. All of you should be dead."
A figure emerged from the shadows at the edge of the cathedral. Fried limped toward them, his body covered in burns and bruises, his sword dragging on the stone behind him. His face was pale, his eyes were wet, and his voice was barely a whisper.
"Because you do not see them as enemies," Fried said. "Not really. Not in your heart."
Laxus turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"
Fried stopped a few feet away. He looked at Laxus, at the man he had followed into hell, at the man he had been willing to die for. His voice cracked.
"Fairy Law only hurts those the caster truly believes are enemies. It reads the heart. It knows the truth." He paused. "And in your heart, Laxus, you still consider them comrades. You always have. You always will."
Laxus's face twisted. His hands clenched at his sides. The lightning around him flickered, dimmed, flared again.
"That is not true," he said. "I do not care about any of them. I have never cared about any of them. They are weak. They are worthless. They are..."
"Stop lying," Natsu said.
Laxus turned to face him. The dragon slayer was standing now, his body battered, his face bloody, his eyes clear. He was not smiling. He was not laughing. He was simply there, a wall of flesh and bone and stubborn refusal to fall.
"You care," Natsu said. "You have always cared. That is why this hurts so much. That is why you are doing this. Because you love this guild, and you hate that it is not what you want it to be."
Laxus roared. Lightning exploded from his body, a storm of yellow energy that shattered the remaining windows and cracked the walls of the cathedral. He launched himself at Natsu, his fist crackling with power, his eyes blazing with rage.
Natsu met him.
Their fists collided. The impact sent shockwaves across the cathedral, knocking Levy off her feet, sending Fried stumbling back. Natsu held his ground. Laxus held his. They stood there, fist against fist, flame against lightning, two dragon slayers who had nothing left but each other.
"You are wrong," Laxus said. "I am not like you. I am not like any of you. I am stronger. I am better. I am..."
"You are Laxus Dreyar," Natsu said. "Grandson of Makarov. Member of Fairy Tail. And you are not alone. You never were."
Laxus's fist trembled. His lightning flickered. Something in his eyes cracked.
He swung again.
Natsu dodged. He ducked under Laxus's arm and drove his fist into Laxus's side. Laxus grunted, stumbled, recovered. He swung again, and again, and again. Natsu blocked, dodged, countered. They were fighting now, really fighting, not for the guild or the city or the future. They were fighting because they did not know what else to do.
Laxus's fist connected with Natsu's jaw. Natsu's head snapped to the side. Blood flew from his lip. He turned back, his eyes still clear, and drove his knee into Laxus's stomach.
Laxus doubled over. Natsu followed with an elbow to the back, then a punch to the ribs, then a kick to the knee. Laxus staggered, fell to one knee, pushed himself up.
"Lightning Dragon's Heavenward Halberd," Laxus said.
Lightning gathered in his hand, condensing, sharpening, becoming a spear of yellow energy that crackled with the power to pierce anything. He raised it above his head, aimed it at Natsu's chest, and prepared to throw.
Gajeel moved.
He crossed the space between them in a blur of iron and desperation. His body shifted, his skin darkening, his arms thickening, his whole form becoming a rod of black steel. He planted himself between Laxus and Natsu, his arms spread wide, his chest exposed.
"Do it," Gajeel said. "Hit me. I can take it."
Laxus threw the spear.
The lightning struck Gajeel in the center of his chest. The impact was deafening, a crack of thunder that shook the cathedral walls. Gajeel's body convulsed, his iron scales cracking, his skin burning, his blood boiling. He screamed. He did not fall.
He stood there, a lightning rod of flesh and iron, absorbing the attack meant for Natsu. The spear dissipated, its energy spent, its purpose failed. Gajeel collapsed to his knees, his body smoking, his chest a ruin of burns and blood.
"Gajeel," Levy screamed. She ran toward him, her hands reaching, her tears falling. She dropped to her knees beside him and pressed her hands against his wounds.
Gajeel looked at her. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, but he was alive. "I am fine," he said. "It takes more than that to kill me."
Laxus stared at them. At Gajeel, who had taken a blow meant for his enemy. At Levy, who was crying over a man who had once been her tormentor. At Natsu, who was still standing, still fighting, still refusing to fall.
He did not understand. He had never understood.
Natsu walked toward him. His steps were slow, deliberate, the steps of a man who had nothing left to prove and nothing left to lose. He stopped in front of Laxus, close enough to touch, close enough to kill.
"You are out of magic," Natsu said. "I can see it. You have nothing left."
Laxus raised his hand. Lightning flickered at his fingertips, weak and sporadic. He could not summon more. He could not fight. He could only stand there, empty and broken, and watch as Natsu raised his own hand.
Flames gathered around Natsu's fingers. Not the wild, desperate flames of before. Something quieter. Something deeper. Something that had been waiting for this moment since the beginning.
"Fire Dragon Secret Art," Natsu said. "Exploding Flame Blade."
The flames condensed, sharpened, became a blade of orange light that hummed with the heat of a dying star. Natsu looked at Laxus, at the man who had tried to destroy everything he loved, and he did not hesitate.
He swung.
The blade struck Laxus in the chest. The impact was not an explosion. It was a release, a torrent of fire that poured into Laxus's body and lifted him off his feet. He flew across the cathedral, crashed through the doors, and landed on the steps outside. He did not move. He did not breathe. He lay there, broken and burning, and the storm above him finally fell silent.
Natsu stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his flames fading. He looked at Laxus, at the ruin of the man who had been his enemy, his rival, his family. He felt no triumph. He felt no joy. He only felt the weight of what he had done.
"It is over," he said.
The battle for Fairy Tail was finished.