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[FT: O King of the Fairies] Chapter 69
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 11:29:39 +0000 UTCChapter 69
The ship shook under the weight of Hades’ magic. His presence alone felt like a black hole, pulling at the very air around us. But just as the pressure settled, a new one emerged—multiple, actually.
I felt them before I saw them.
Then—
Footsteps.
Seven figures stepped forward, emerging from the shadows behind Hades.
Their auras flared, each unique, yet unified by the same overwhelming presence of darkness.
The Seven Kin of Purgatory.
Except… not the ones I knew.
This timeline was too early for the ones I remembered—no Rustyrose, no Zancrow, no Meredy. Instead, standing at Hades’ side were new faces.
Well, not all of them were new.
My eyes locked onto two in particular.
A large, round man with short, black hair and a disturbing grin stretched across his face. His beady eyes darted across us like we were playthings.
Kain Hikaru.
An absolute freak with a magic so dumb it looped back to being terrifying.
Next to him stood a tall, imposing man with long, wild brown hair. His piercing green eyes gleamed with amusement, and the way he carried himself… relaxed, yet assured—like someone who had already won.
Azuma.
The monster who could turn entire battlefields into his personal domain.
The rest?
Unknown variables.
A lithe woman with sleek black hair tied into a ponytail stood with arms crossed, a sharp dagger-like smile playing on her lips. Snake-like eyes. Unreadable.
To her left, a hulking brute of a man stood with his arms folded, body covered in ritualistic markings. His presence alone screamed raw, untamed power.
Another figure, shorter than the others, carried a staff, their face hidden beneath a hood.
A slender man with an elegant air, spinning a coin between his fingers, looking at us like we were nothing more than gambling odds.
And finally, a masked warrior, clad in jet-black armor, standing silent yet coiled like a blade ready to strike.
They weren’t the ones I expected.
But that didn’t matter.
Because at the end of the day, it wouldn’t change the outcome.
I wasn’t nervous. I wasn’t tense. I wasn’t even remotely worried.
They were strong. Maybe some of the strongest mages in Grimoire Heart.
But I am Aiden Leonhart.
And I am the strongest.
Hades extended a hand, gesturing toward them like a proud father.
"Allow me to introduce my Seven Kin of Purgatory." His voice was rich with amusement. "Each one of them a testament to the true power of magic—untainted by the foolish ideals of Fairy Tail."
Gildarts rolled his shoulders. "Huh. Seven, huh?" He grinned. "Guess we’re in for some fun."
Ur’s eyes didn’t leave Ultear, but her magic flared—ice spreading across the floor beneath her. "Fun isn’t the word I’d use."
I just exhaled.
Kain grinned wider as he cracked his knuckles. "Hehehe… Look at you guys. Think you’re so tough, huh?"
Azuma’s voice was smooth, measured. "A clash of ideals… How intriguing. Let’s see whose beliefs crumble first."
I didn’t react.
My gaze flickered to Ultear—who still hadn’t moved.
She was watching. Waiting.
And so was I.
—
I stepped forward, letting my magic pulse just enough to make a statement. The air crackled, the ship groaning under the weight of my power pressing against it.
Precht—Hades—watched me with amusement. He thought he held all the cards. That he was the one dictating how this would go.
He was wrong.
I turned to Ur and Gildarts, my voice steady. Commanding.
"You two handle the Seven Kin."
Ur frowned. "What?"
Gildarts arched a brow. "You sure about that, kid?"
I rolled my shoulders, eyes locking onto Precht. "Yeah. I’ll take care of him."
Silence.
Then, laughter.
Not from my side.
From him.
Deep, mocking.
"Take care of me?" Precht stroked his beard, shaking his head in amusement. "You are bold, I’ll give you that. But tell me, boy, do you truly understand the weight of those words?"
Ur’s fists clenched at her sides. Gildarts’ grin faded.
I met Precht’s gaze without hesitation. "I understand perfectly."
His amusement didn’t waver. "I was the Second Master of Fairy Tail. The one who led that guild to prosperity after Mavis. The one who unlocked the secrets of magic itself. You stand before the culmination of true knowledge. And you believe you can stand against me?"
I tilted my head. "You talk a lot for an old man who’s about to lose."
Something shifted.
The air grew heavier. Darker. Magic coiled around Precht like a living force, an overwhelming, suffocating abyss that promised destruction.
Ur braced herself.
Gildarts tensed.
The Seven Kin smirked, their own auras rising in anticipation.
And me?
I didn’t flinch.
Because unlike them—unlike everyone here—I wasn’t afraid.
I didn’t need to be.
I was Aiden Leonhart.
And today, I’d remind Precht exactly what that meant.
The moment Aiden stepped forward to confront Precht, the tension in the air snapped like a pulled wire.
The Seven Kin of Purgatory moved.
Ur exhaled sharply, eyes locking onto the Seven Kin of Purgatory as the battlefield erupted into chaos. The ship trembled under the weight of their magic—vines surged, the ground cracked, and the air itself thickened with overwhelming pressure.
Gildarts grinned, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, who's first?"
Azuma answered with a swing of his arm. The very wood and metal of the ship twisted to his will, thick vines bursting from the ground, coiling like serpents ready to strike. "Fairy Tail’s Ace… I’ve always wanted to test myself against true power."
Gildarts barely spared him a glance before stepping forward— BOOM. The moment his foot touched the floor, the sheer force shattered the oncoming vines, reducing them to dust. "You don’t wanna test yourself against me, pal." His grin widened. "You wanna survive me."
Azuma’s eyes narrowed, but there was no hesitation as he lunged.
At the same time, Kain Hikaru cackled, patting his creepy little doll. "Oho~! Now, which one of you gets the pleasure of being my plaything?" His fingers twitched toward the doll— but ice speared toward his hand.
Kain yelped, jerking back just in time to avoid losing fingers. "HEY! That’s rude!"
Ur didn’t answer. She had already moved, ice ripping through the battlefield as she forced the others to spread out.
Gildarts glanced her way, chuckling. "Finally warmed up?"
Ur didn’t look at him, but her stance spoke volumes. Magic roared around her, colder than the void of the northern seas. "Shut up and fight."
Gildarts laughed. This was more like it.
Kain pouted, clutching his little doll like a lifeline. "You know, you’re really mean, lady!" He waggled a finger at Ur. "But no worries! With my Mr. Cursey, I can—"
CRACK.
A chunk of ice slammed into his face, cutting him off mid-monologue. Kain stumbled back with a yelp, rubbing his nose. "Hey! That actually hurt!"
Ur exhaled, mist curling from her lips. "I’m aiming to do worse than that."
Before Kain could respond, BOOM!
Gildarts’ fist met Azuma’s wooden tendrils, shattering them effortlessly. The sheer shockwave from the impact sent debris flying. Azuma skidded back, but his expression remained steady—calculating.
"Impressive," Azuma admitted. "Your strength is undeniable." His hands glowed as the very walls and floor of the ship twisted under his will. "But let’s see how long you can keep up when the battlefield itself is your enemy."
The ship groaned, entire sections of metal and wood coming to life. The battlefield was no longer just a space—it was a weapon.
Gildarts clicked his tongue. "That’s cute."
Then he moved.
BOOM.
In an instant, everything around him exploded—wood, steel, vines, even the very air seemed to disintegrate as his raw power tore through Azuma’s magic.
Azuma barely leaped back in time, eyes widening. "Impossible…"
Gildarts smirked. "Sorry, but you picked the wrong opponent."
Ur, meanwhile, was already moving, ducking under an incoming attack from another member of the Seven Kin. She didn’t have time for games. Ice magic surged from her, ripping across the battlefield like a frozen storm.
She saw Gildarts out of the corner of her eye, tearing through enemies like a force of nature. He was the strongest mage here, no doubt about it.
But she wasn’t about to let him carry all the weight.
Ur’s breath misted in the air as her power surged. "I’m done playing."
And with that, she unleashed hell.
—-
Precht’s magic pulsed, a heavy, oppressive force that seemed to warp the very air around us. His grin never wavered, his posture relaxed—his arrogance was very clear.
I stood there, unbothered. I wasn’t afraid.
Because I was the strongest.
"You’re awfully quiet," Precht mused, watching me with those dark, knowing eyes. "Not trembling? Not questioning your odds?"
I cracked my neck. "I just don’t see a reason to entertain your delusions."
Precht chuckled. "Delusions? My boy, I was Fairy Tail’s Second Guild Master. I built the foundation that made your precious guild what it is today." His eyes gleamed. "Do you truly think you can stand against me?"
I smirked. "Nah."
Precht’s brows rose.
"I don’t think I can." My magic flared, the space around us vibrating under my sheer presence. "I know I can."
The room shuddered.
Precht’s amusement flickered—just for a moment. Then he laughed, deep and full of something almost… delighted.
"Interesting," he murmured, raising a hand. Dark magic swirled at his fingertips, crackling like a living shadow. "Then allow me to test that confidence."
He struck first.
A pulse of darkness shot toward me, consuming the air, twisting and writhing like a void ready to devour everything in its path.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t need to.
A golden rift split open before me, and from its depths, a blade emerged.
One swing.
The darkness tore apart.
Precht’s grin faltered.
I exhaled, resting the sword on my shoulder. "Your move, old man."
Precht’s expression shifted. No more amusement. No more words. Just action.
He moved, and the world twisted.
Dark chains erupted from the ground, writhing like serpents, closing in with relentless speed. I barely tilted my head—a dozen golden rifts split open. Blades, spears, axes—each sharper than the last—shot forward, carving through the oncoming restraints like paper.
Precht was already gone. Above.
A massive sphere of black magic descended, its gravitational pull warping the metal beneath us. The pressure alone could crush lesser mages.
I swung.
The air split.
A shockwave ripped through the darkness, cutting it in half before it could fully collapse. The remnants scattered, dissolving into harmless wisps.
A flicker—behind me.
I twisted, blade meeting fingertips.
BOOM.
The impact sent us both skidding back.
Precht’s magic flared. An entire void opened beneath me.
I stepped forward—golden rifts igniting at my feet—and vanished just before the abyss could swallow me whole.
He barely had time to react before I reappeared above him, blade flashing down.
He caught it.
Barehanded.
Magic howled between us as the entire ship groaned under the force of our clash.
Neither of us moved.
Then—
Everything exploded
The battlefield became chaos—collapsing metal, flickering lights, the ship itself groaning under the strain of our battle. But I didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver.
I was the strongest.
Precht’s presence was suffocating. His magic twisted the air, warping reality itself. The space around him bent unnaturally, shadows curling and stretching like living things. His Demon’s Eye glowed beneath his eyepatch, leaking raw, unfiltered power.
I kept my gaze locked onto him, steady. Calculating.
Then—I moved.
Golden rifts tore through reality in an instant.
One. Two. Five. Ten—dozens.
Each portal shimmered, revealing an arsenal of devastation.
A spear crackling with divine lightning. A sword wreathed in an eternal, ghostly flame. A cannon humming with enough force to erase a mountain. Blades of every shape and form, floating behind me like celestial sentinels.
The Celestial Inventory unleashed.
Precht’s single visible eye narrowed.
I didn’t give him time to react.
A flick of my wrist—
Precht didn’t retreat. He didn’t dodge.
Instead—his magic surged.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand.
Amaterasu.
Dark chains erupted from the void, twisting through the air like living serpents. They didn’t just block my weapons—they devoured them. Each blade that made contact with the chains was swallowed by the abyss, vanishing into nothingness.
But I wasn’t done.
The moment my weapons were consumed, I willed more into existence. Hundreds. Thousands. An unrelenting storm of steel, energy, and destruction.
Precht’s fingers twitched.
A pulse—and suddenly, the chains multiplied, covering the battlefield in a writhing web of darkness.
My attacks were halted midair. Suspended. Crushed. Erased.
Tch. Annoying.
I shifted tactics.
In an instant, I swapped weapons—reaching into my Celestial Inventory for something heavier. Something that couldn’t be swallowed so easily.
A hammer the size of a boulder materialized in my grip, crackling with divine lightning.
Mjolnir
I lunged.
Precht reacted immediately, his other hand flicking outward and this time, I felt the air warp.
Requip.
His body shimmered as armor materialized over him in an instant—dark, ancient, cursed. The metal pulsed with an aura I recognized. Living Magic.
He wasn’t just wearing armor.
He was fusing with it.
The battlefield shrieked as my hammer came crashing down.
Precht didn’t move.
He didn’t try to dodge.
He let it hit him.
BOOM.
The force of the impact shattered the ground beneath us, a crater forming as my hammer crashed down with all the weight of a dying star. The shockwave rippled outward, tearing through the airship’s hull like paper.
But when the dust cleared—
He was still standing.
Not just standing—untouched.
My hammer—an artifact capable of cratering mountains—hadn’t even left a scratch.
Precht exhaled, brushing nonexistent dust from his cursed armor. His red eyes gleamed beneath his hood.
"Is that it?" he mused. "For someone called King of the Fairies, I expected more."
I didn’t reply.
Precht tilted his head, his voice dripping with amusement. "Or perhaps you overestimate yourself. Strength means nothing if it can’t reach me."
He was baiting me. Testing me.
But I didn’t rise to it.
Instead, I met his gaze, my voice steady.
"So this is the power of the Devil’s Heart?"
And for the first time—he hesitated.
It was barely a flicker. A shadow across his expression. A momentary pause before his smile returned, sharp and unreadable.
But I saw it.
Fear.
I pressed forward. "What’s wrong, Precht? You didn’t expect me to know?" I took another step, my hammer dissolving as I summoned it back into my Celestial Inventory. "Did you think your little secret was safe?"
The amusement in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something colder. Calculating.
"...I see." His voice was quieter now, the mockery stripped away.
I smirked. "Yeah. I see, too."
He wasn’t invincible.
He just thought he was.
Precht’s silence stretched between us, the weight of my words pressing down like a storm about to break.
Then—his expression twisted.
"Interesting," he murmured, more to himself than to me. His fingers curled at his sides, dark energy crackling around his form. "So you are more than just a brute with an endless armory. You are… informed."
I rolled my shoulders, golden rifts igniting at my back once more. "And you’re stalling."
The ship groaned beneath us, the weight of our power distorting the air. Distant echoes of battle thundered in the halls—Gildarts and Ur were cutting through the Seven Kin. But I didn’t need to look.
My focus was here.
On him.
I had him.
Not in strength—he hadn’t even tried yet.
But in mind.
"You act untouchable, Precht, but the moment I mentioned the Devil’s Heart, you flinched," I said, circling him. "That means you fear for it. And if you fear for it…" My grin sharpened. "It means I can break it."
His magic flared in response, shadows twisting violently as the space around us contorted.
"You truly believe that, don’t you?" His voice had lost its amusement, replaced with something colder. "That you, a mere child, can stand before me and dictate the terms of this battle."
The air shook.
Darkness spread behind him, swallowing light, bending reality itself as an unseen force pressed down on my soul.
"I am not just a man," he whispered. "I am a force far beyond your comprehension."
I exhaled. Magic?
I wasn’t magic.
I was more.
Golden rifts burned at my back, the hum of my Celestial Inventory filling the void between us.
I met his gaze.
His eyes burned.
And the world collapsed into chaos.
I moved.
The Celestial Inventory roared to life.
A hundred weapons—no, a thousand—ignited in golden rifts around me, hanging in the air like stars before a supernova. I willed them forward, and the void between us shattered under the sheer force of my assault.
Precht met it head-on.
Darkness pulsed from his body, swallowing the storm of blades, reducing enchanted steel to dust as the abyss itself ate away my arsenal.
But it didn’t matter.
Because I was already in front of him.
A single blade in hand.
Rule Breaker
An iridescent and jagged dagger —but cursed beyond all reason.
Precht’s eyes widened.
I drove it forward.
A pulse of black fire erupted from his chest, his Demon’s Eye flaring to life in a desperate attempt to stop me.
Too late.
The moment the sword touched his body, his magic severed.
Not just cut off—disconnected.
Like an entire limb torn from his soul.
Precht staggered back, choking. The darkness surrounding him faltered, flickering like a dying flame. His fingers trembled, clutching his chest as though trying to reach for something—but it was gone.
The Devil’s Heart.
His connection was gone.
I stood over him, the cursed sword humming in my grip. "You feel that?" I murmured. "That emptiness? That hollowness in your soul?"
He looked up at me, eyes filled with something I never thought I’d see.
Fear.
He staggered, his breath ragged, his fingers twitching as if trying to reclaim the power that had been ripped away. His Demon’s Eye flickered, but its glow was weaker—unstable.
I didn’t press the attack.
Instead, I reached into the Celestial Inventory.
Golden rifts swirled around my hand as I pulled forth an object.
Simple. Unassuming.
A crystal sphere.
Its surface was smooth, but within it, something shifted. A swirling, infinite expanse—a window into the truth.
Precht’s gaze locked onto it immediately.
And then—his breath hitched.
I smirked. "You recognize it, don’t you?"
His fingers twitched. His entire body went rigid.
I turned the sphere in my hand, watching the swirling void within react to my presence, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"All that research… all that time you spent chasing the abyss… and yet, here it is." I lifted the crystal slightly, letting it catch the dim light. "The truth about magic. The real truth. Not the half-baked doctrine you convinced yourself was real."
Precht’s hands clenched into fists. "Where did you get that?" His voice was hoarse.
I laughed. "Where do you think?"
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
Because he knew.
Everything he had built, everything he thought he understood about magic—it was flawed.
And I was rubbing it in his face.
"You preached about the abyss, about true magic lying in darkness," I continued. "But this?" I tapped the crystal. "This says otherwise."
His eyes burned with rage, but behind it—fear.
"You’re lying," he growled. "That artifact—"
"—shows the truth," I finished for him. "And the truth?" I tilted my head. "You’re nothing more than a fool grasping at shadows."
Precht’s magic surged.
Precht lurched forward—or at least, he tried to.
His body staggered, trembling violently, like a puppet with its strings cut. He reached out, but his magic—his very essence—was slipping away.
The connection was gone.
His Demon’s Eye dimmed. His aura flickered. The immense, crushing weight of his presence was no more.
I watched as realization dawned on his face.
“No…” His voice was barely a whisper. His fingers twitched uselessly, reaching for power that would never return. “This… this isn’t…”
I didn’t speak.
There was no need.
His knees buckled. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.
For the first time in decades… Precht was powerless.
He looked at his hands, at the sheer emptiness where his magic had once been. His entire body shook.
Then—he spoke.
A single word.
A name
"Mavis."
His voice cracked—raw, broken.
And then—he fell.
