Shuurai
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[FT: O King of the Fairies] Chapter 46
🕑 Added 2025-03-26 07:11:50 +0000 UTCOne Year Later
The clearing behind my house had become more than just a training ground. It was our place—the space where we pushed each other past our limits, where we grew together. The once-pristine ground bore the scars of countless battles, proof of how much we had improved.
I rolled my shoulders, letting Enhancement Magic flow through me. Strength, speed, endurance—every aspect of my body surged to its peak. Across from me, Alma stood firm, her Archive Magic screens flickering in the air, analyzing everything. But more than that, her Rune Magic had advanced to a whole new level.
I smiled. “You ready?”
She met my gaze, her expression warm. “Always.”
I moved.
To anyone else, I would’ve been nothing but a blur, but Alma had been training for this. Runes flared to life around her, shifting in perfect response to my movement. A containment sigil appeared midair, locking my momentum for a split second—just long enough for a barrier to materialize between us. My fist stopped an inch away.
I stepped back, grinning. “Not bad.”
She smirked, placing a hand on her hip. “Just not bad?”
I chuckled. Of course, I was still holding back—a lot. Even now, I wasn’t using my full strength. If I did, she wouldn’t stand a chance. But that didn’t change the fact that her improvement was huge compared to a year ago. The Alma from back then wouldn’t have lasted a second against me.
And now? She was pushing me to actually think in a fight.
“You’re incredible," I admitted.
She raised an eyebrow. “You say that every time.”
“Because it’s true,” I said, my gaze lingering on her. “You’re not just keeping up—you’re surpassing every expectation.”
She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against mine. “You make it easy to keep pushing forward.”
I turned my hand over, intertwining our fingers for a moment. The warmth between us was undeniable.
Then, just as quickly, she pulled away, her lips curving into a small smile. “Again?”
I exhaled through my nose, amused. “Always.”
This time, she struck first. Runes shifted midair, altering gravity around me. My body felt heavy—she was trying to slow me down. Smart.
I countered instantly, pushing Enhancement Magic to override the effect. But Alma was already ahead of me. More runes flared to life, forming a complex web around me, cutting off my escape routes before I could react.
I grinned. She’s amazing.
I shattered a rune, closing the gap between us, but she was expecting it. At the last moment, she shifted her stance, turning my momentum against me.
I found myself inches from her, caught in her trap, and before I could react, she leaned in, her voice soft against my ear.
"Checkmate."
I chuckled, letting out a slow breath. "You win this round."
She reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "You’ll catch up."
I took her hand in mine, pressing a light kiss to her fingertips. "I don’t mind losing to you."
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. "Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you win anytime soon."
I laughed, pulling her close. "Then I guess we’ll just have to keep training."
—
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the clearing. A gentle breeze rustled the trees, carrying the scent of grass and lingering magic. The air was thick with energy—not just from our training but from us.
Alma stood across from me, breathing lightly, her lips curled in satisfaction. The past year had changed her. She was stronger, faster, more confident in her abilities. But beyond that, she had changed with me.
And I had changed too.
When I first arrived here, I still held back—keeping my distance, restraining my strength, never fully letting myself be part of something. I wasn't shy, just… hesitant. Uncertain. I fought because I was strong, because people expected it of me, because I had to. But now? Now I fought because I wanted to.
Because I wasn’t just some wandering force of destruction anymore.
I had something—someone—to ground me.
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us.
“You know,” I murmured, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “If you keep improving like this, I might actually have to start trying.”
Alma arched an eyebrow. “You should be trying.”
I smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She huffed, crossing her arms, but the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You’re infuriating.”
“And yet, you’re still here.” I tilted my head. “Almost like you enjoy it.”
Her gaze softened. “I do.”
That simple admission made my heart skip a beat.
I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
She smiled, squeezing my hand. “I like hearing you say it.”
“Good.” I pulled her a little closer, my voice dropping. “Because I’ll never stop.”
Alma let out a small laugh, but there was warmth in her eyes—something deeper than amusement, something real.
“You’re too charming for your own good,” she murmured.
I grinned. “I only have to be for you.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she reached up, her fingers brushing my jawline, tracing the curve of my face as if committing it to memory.
A year ago, she wouldn’t have done this. She was always reserved, careful, hesitant. But now? She touched me freely, without doubt.
I turned my head slightly, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I missed this.”
She frowned. “We train together almost every day.”
I chuckled. “Not training. This. You. Close to me.”
Alma’s expression softened, and she leaned in, resting her forehead against mine. “I know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I missed it too.”
For a long moment, we just stood there, wrapped in quiet warmth. The world could wait.
Then, I smirked. “You sure you don’t want to celebrate your win properly?”
She narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”
I shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you could treat me to dinner? Or…” I leaned in, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “I could carry you home.”
Alma exhaled sharply, pushing against my chest. “You wish.”
I laughed, catching her wrist before she could pull away. “No, really. You did great today.”
She sighed but didn’t resist when I tugged her closer. “You’re just saying that to butter me up.”
“Maybe.” I kissed the top of her head. “Is it working?”
She shook her head but smiled. “You’re impossible.”
I tilted her chin up gently, meeting her gaze. “And you love me for it.”
She hesitated for just a second, then smiled. “I do.”
My breath caught. We’d never said it before. Not out loud. But hearing it—feeling the weight of those words settle between us—it made my chest tighten in the best way possible.
I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing over her skin. “Say it again.”
Alma exhaled softly. “I love you, Aiden.”
I didn’t give her the chance to say anything else. I closed the distance, pressing my lips against hers in a slow, lingering kiss.
The past year had changed everything. Our strength, our goals, our futures.
But this?
This was the best change of all.
–
Fairy Tail had always been a whirlwind of chaos, laughter, and the occasional structural damage. But in the past year, the guild had changed in ways I never expected. It wasn’t just me or Alma—everyone was growing, adjusting, settling into new roles.
For one, the guild had more kids running around than ever before.
It was still strange seeing so many of them running around. Erza, Jellal, Kagura, Simon, Sho, Wally, Milliana—the former Tower of Heaven slaves had become a part of the guild in their own way.
Some of them adjusted faster than others.
Erza, of course, wasted no time proving herself. She threw herself into training, determined to become stronger, though I could tell she was still figuring out why she wanted that strength. She wasn’t the only one. Jellal was more reserved, still carrying the weight of their past, but he didn’t hide from us. He watched, listened, tried to understand what a normal life was supposed to be.
And then there was Kagura.
“Erzaaa, fight me!!”
“No.”
“Why not?!”
Erza sighed, arms crossed. “Because you lost last time.”
“I’ll win this time!” Kagura puffed up her cheeks, glaring.
“No, you won’t,” I said, walking past.
She spun toward me, eyes full of childish fury. “Yes, I will!”
Alma smirked. “Do you even know how to use that sword?”
Kagura huffed, gripping the practice blade at her hip. “I’m learning!”
Milliana, meanwhile, was busy stacking chairs on top of each other in an increasingly unstable tower while Sho and Wally made bets on when it would collapse.
Simon stood beside me, shaking his head. “This is going to end badly.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
We didn’t stop it, though.
A second later, the entire thing tipped over, sending chairs crashing to the floor—and Milliana right into Sho’s arms.
“Ha! See? Perfect catch!” Sho grinned.
Milliana blinked. “You were trying to catch me?!”
Wally groaned. “That means I lose the bet.”
Alma covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “You were betting on whether Sho would fail?”
Simon sighed again. “Every day is like this.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You’ll get used to it.”
Of course, if anyone had changed the most, it was Laxus.
He had always been strong for his age, but now? He was a storm given form. The Rumble-Rumble Fruit and the Lightning Dragon God Lacrima had turned him into a force. His lightning was sharper, faster, deadlier. He wasn’t just strong for an eleven-year-old—he was strong. Period.
And he knew it.
I watched as he took aim at another training dummy, his fists crackling with power.
BOOM.
The poor dummy exploded into splinters.
“…That’s the third one this week,” I noted.
Laxus shrugged. “They need to make better dummies.”
Alma sighed. “That was Sir Dummiesworth the Third.”
Laxus scoffed. “Then maybe Sir Dummiesworth the Fourth should be stronger.”
Before I could say anything, Wakaba and Macao ran by, covered in soot.
“I told you not to use that spell indoors!” Wakaba yelled.
“I was testing it!” Macao shot back.
Master Makarov groaned from his seat at the bar. “Do I even want to know?”
“No,” I said.
He sighed, taking a long drink from his mug. “Why do I even try?”
Meanwhile, Sho and Wally were still arguing over their bet, while Erza tried to maintain some semblance of order among the younger kids.
Laxus, watching all of this, rolled his eyes. “Idiots.”
“You say that like you’re not part of it,” I said.
He scoffed. “I’m not.”
“Really?” I reached over and ruffled his hair before he could dodge.
“Oi—stop that!” He swatted at my hand, sparking with electricity.
Alma smirked. “Still just a kid.”
Laxus glared. “I’m not a kid.”
“Oh?” I grinned. “Want me to carry you around like one?”
Laxus’ eye twitched. “Try it and I’ll fry you.”
“Promise?”
Before he could react, I did lift him up, throwing him over my shoulder.
“PUT ME DOWN!!”
I ignored the sparks zapping against my back. “Nah, I think this is nice.”
Alma snorted. “I don’t know. You do look like a kid right now.”
Laxus growled. “You two are the worst.”
“And you love us for it,” I said, finally setting him down.
Laxus opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment, Wakaba and Macao ran by, both covered in soot.
“I told you not to use that spell indoors!” Wakaba shouted.
“I was testing it!” Macao shot back.
Master Makarov groaned from his seat at the bar. “Do I even want to know?”
“No,” I said.
The old man sighed, taking a long drink from his mug. “Why do I even try?”
The guild had always been like this—loud, unpredictable, full of life. But now, with even more people added into the mix, the energy had shifted. It wasn’t just a place for rowdy mages looking for jobs. It had become a home for people who had nowhere else to go.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Cana, now a permanent fixture in the guild, had settled in well. She was still young, still quiet compared to the rest, but she wasn’t as shy anymore. Ever since she told Gildarts the truth—that she was his daughter—there was a weight lifted off her shoulders. Gildarts, for all his flaws, had taken it in stride, though I could tell he was still adjusting. He tried to be there for her, even if he wasn’t the most responsible parent in the world.
But Cana didn’t need him to be perfect. She just needed him there.
And he was.
That was enough.
Cana had changed too.
Ever since she told Gildarts the truth—that he was her father—there was a weight lifted off her shoulders. She was still quiet, still hesitant in some ways, but she wasn’t as shy anymore. She had found her place, little by little.
And Gildarts?
He was trying.
He wasn’t perfect—not even close. Half the time, I wasn’t sure he even knew how to be a dad. But he was there. And that was enough.
I watched as he sat with Cana near the bar, awkwardly trying to teach her how to shuffle a deck of cards.
“Like this,” he said, demonstrating.
Cana tried. Cards spilled everywhere.
“…That was terrible,” Gildarts said bluntly.
Cana pouted. “I’m learning.”
“Yeah, well, learn faster.”
I shook my head. “You’re awful at this.”
“I’m trying, alright?” Gildarts shot back.
Cana grumbled, picking up the cards. “This is why I drink.”
“You’re six,” I deadpanned.
“And?”
Alma leaned over. “She is Gildarts’ kid.”
Fair point.
I took a sip from my drink, watching the chaos unfold. Erza trying to keep the kids in line. Laxus sparking with electricity, eager for a challenge. Macao and Wakaba being, well, Macao and Wakaba. Master Makarov grumbling about property damage, knowing full well he’d let it slide.
Alma leaned against me, her presence grounding me in a way that nothing else could.
“This place is insane,” she murmured.
I chuckled. “Yeah. But it’s home.”
She smiled. “Yeah. It is.”
I looked around, taking it all in.
One year ago, Fairy Tail had been strong. Now?
Now, we were unstoppable.
Anyways
The guild hall was packed. Not that it was unusual, but today was different. The air buzzed with energy, voices mixing together in conversation and speculation. Everyone had been called in for an announcement, and when Master Makarov called for a meeting, you knew it was important.
I leaned against a table, arms crossed, with Alma beside me. Laxus sat nearby, fidgeting in his seat. The kid was pretending to be disinterested, but I could tell he was just as curious as everyone else.
Master Makarov stood on the bar, arms crossed, looking over the guild like a king addressing his court. He let the chatter die down on its own before speaking, his voice firm and steady.
“This year, we will be holding the S-Class Promotion Trial.”
That got everyone’s attention.
The murmuring started, but not with surprise—more like, finally.
Master Makarov continued, scanning the room.
“And this year, only one mage has been nominated.”
That got a reaction.
Not shock. Not disbelief.
Just a lot of people nodding like, Yeah, that makes sense.
Master Makarov barely paused before saying the name that everyone was already expecting.
“Aiden.”
There wasn’t a single gasp or outcry—just a collective feeling of it’s about damn time.
“Wait, we’re just doing this now?” Macao raised a brow. “Why did it take so long?”
“Yeah, what gives?” Wakaba added. “The guy’s been S-Class since after the war.”
Master Makarov sighed, rubbing his temples. “I wanted to make it official a year ago, but someone—” He shot me a look. “—kept dodging it.”
Alma smirked. “Sounds like you dragged this out, Aiden.”
I shrugged. “I was busy.”
“Busy, huh?” Gildarts chuckled, stepping forward with his usual lazy grin. “Guess that’s true. Hard to make time for a trial when you’re out wrecking dark guilds and making everyone else look bad.”
“Hey, I don’t try to make you look bad,” I said, smirking. “It just happens.”
Laughter rippled through the guild, and even Master Makarov rolled his eyes.
Rijion, an older guild member, crossed his arms. “At this point, isn’t it just a formality? He’s already stronger than most of us.”
“Yeah,” Bisu added. “He could’ve been S-Class ages ago.”
Master Makarov exhaled. “Regardless, it is happening now. The trial will be held in two weeks.”
Tono, another veteran, raised his mug. “I say we start celebrating early. Everyone already knows he’s passing.”
A cheer rose from the crowd.
And just like that, the announcement turned into a party.
I raised an eyebrow, pushing off the table with a smirk. “Alright, alright. So, what’s the trial? Some kind of monster fight? A dungeon crawl? Test of endurance?”
The guild grew quiet, the usual buzz of conversation slowing to a halt as they all turned their attention to Master Makarov, who had that sly grin on his face.
“You’ll be fighting Gildarts,” Master Makarov said, his tone almost teasing, like he was relishing the moment.
The room fell completely still for a second.
I leaned back, giving him a look of disbelief. “Wait, Gildarts?”
“Yep,” Master Makarov replied, still smirking. “The trial is a fight with Gildarts."
There was a subtle chuckle from the guild members, and a few of the older ones exchanged knowing looks. Over the years, the question had often come up—Who’s stronger, Aiden or Gildarts? Most of the guild assumed Gildarts, but in reality? It wasn’t even close.
I walked toward Gildarts, giving him a smug grin. “No offense, but I’ll be honest—this feels like a waste of time. I could end this in seconds.”
Gildarts looked at me with that signature carefree smile of his, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “You may be strong, Aiden. I won’t deny that. But don’t let that arrogance blind you.”
I laughed, crossing my arms. “Arrogance? No, no, Gildarts. It’s just the truth. You’re strong, sure, but I’m in a different class entirely.”
I leaned back in my chair again, a cocky grin spreading across my face. “This is too easy.”
The kids exchanged glances, their wide eyes glued to the older members of the guild as if waiting for some sort of confirmation. Laxus, looking like a miniature version of his future self, gave me a challenging smirk.
“You sure about this, Aiden?” Laxus asked, almost testing me.
“Is that even a question?” I shot back. “I’m the strongest one here. Gildarts isn’t on my level.”
The guild members all shared looks, some raising their eyebrows, others smirking at my confidence. The question of who was stronger—Aiden or Gildarts—had been around for a long time, and it was clear that the guild had their money on me.
“Don’t get too cocky,” Gildarts spoke up, his tone calm but with a hint of amusement. “You might be strong, but I have experience on my side.”
I chuckled. “Experience doesn’t matter when you’re outclassed.”
“Well, this’ll be interesting,”Master Makarov said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’ll be watching closely.”
Gildarts crossed his arms, his usual casual demeanor not faltering. “Alright, Aiden. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The kids stared at us with wide eyes. Laxus gave me a challenging grin, already eager to see how things would unfold. Meanwhile, little Kagura's face was full of curiosity, as though she couldn’t quite grasp the magnitude of what was about to happen.
"Do you think Aiden can beat him?" Kagura whispered to Laxus, her voice barely audible.
Laxus gave a sly smile, his usual mischievous energy bubbling up. “I dunno, but if anyone can do it, it’s Aiden.”
I flashed a grin back at them. “You’ll see soon enough, little one.”
The air was thick with anticipation now, everyone eagerly talking amongst themselves, wondering just how the hell this was going to play out.
I felt the excitement too—though not for the trial itself. No, I was more excited for the fight. Gildarts was strong, no doubt about it. He was one of the few who had survived and thrived in countless battles, and I respected that. But as I looked around at the guild members, I couldn't help but feel the rush of anticipation building in my chest.
This was it. This was the fight that would prove I was the strongest.
The thought of taking on Gildarts without holding back, of showing everyone just what I could really do—it sent a thrill through me. The idea of finally facing off against him, no holds barred, made me grin wider.
“Two weeks, right?” I asked, looking back at Master Makarov, already planning what to do next.
“Two weeks,” Master Makarov confirmed, his smirk still present.
“Well, let’s make it a good show,” I said, the arrogance clear in my voice. “I’ll make sure Gildarts puts on his best performance.”
Comments
Joshy Vindicta
But.. gravity doesn’t affect him. Like, we learned that from the Fallen. Y’know, when he tried to crush him and then explode him.
