Chapitre 920: 13
Chapter Twelve – Say Your Prayers
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"Well, I guess that's us," Naruto said.
The trio proceeded down the side of the building, hoping that none of the occupants inside would be alerted to their presence. Not to appear as if they've sneaked off to the side, Naruto directed them to backtrack into the surrounding forest before reusing the dirt path leading to the mansion. It may have eaten away a few minutes, but he hoped that their timing wouldn't appear suspicious to their new comrades.
He wouldn't want them to think that his team had been doing anything untoward, like spying on them or something.
Which they did...
"You're late," the pink-haired harlot, whom Carla had lovingly named, said dolefully. That was even before their shadows, cast from the afternoon sun, could cross the threshold of the mansion's ornate doors.
Naruto's hand hovered in the middle of a greeting, but he balled it into a fist to cover his mouth and disguise a fake cough.
"Sorry," he said. "We got lost."
"That's rich."
An elegant snort escaped from the young woman. Her eyes rolled upwards and to her left as she regarded her stoic white-haired companion, pointedly awaiting his approval. When it appeared that she wasn't going to receive it, her lips puckered into a petulant pout.
"Lyon-sama..."
Her soft whine was largely ignored as the towering potato-head mage stepped forward, craning his neck down to regard the much shorter Naruto.
"You are the delegates from Cait Shelter, I presume?"
"Yeah, Naruto Uzumaki, and this is Wendy and Carla," he pointed out respectively. "Sorry about being late. We're uh, not really familiar with the area, so it was hard for us to find a way through these woods."
The man's eyes travelled away from his, glancing at Carla for a moment before resting it upon Wendy. Soft murmurs broke out among the group as the Sky Dragon Slayer was thrust into the spotlight. Naruto didn't need to eavesdrop on the hushed-toned conversations to know what they were insinuating. There was an inscrutable pause as Wendy struggled not to pull away from the odd staring contest, but just as it started, it ended.
"Jura Neekis," he offered simply, exchanging his own nod of assent with Naruto.
It was as if Wendy had passed some sort of test.
Naruto flashed Wendy a reassuring smile. "A Wizard Saint, huh? I never thought they'd take this so seriously." He chuckled, something that was not shared by the mage in front of him.
Jura raised an oddly-shaped brow. "It was deemed necessary." He turned back to face the rest. "The delegates from the four guilds have gathered. Now is the time for—"
"Wait!" Sherry said hurriedly, addressing Naruto and his team. "Now, I'm not sure how things are done in your guild, but don't you think you're being irresponsible by bringing her along? We're trying to exterminate one of the most powerful dark guilds in the kingdom here! Don't you think she's too young for a mission like this?"
"Sherry does have a point," Lyon, the incredibly apt Hyuuga impersonator, said.
Bolstered, Sherry Blendi (someone he could finally put a name to a face) was the most vocal opposition as she, among others, voiced their concerns. Naruto stood as an observer in the midst of the one-sided discussion. He was surprised that no one had bothered to ask his or Wendy's opinion.
The girl in question looked conflicted.
Naruto searched the hall, finding the only person he knew.
The redhead, oddly enough, was standing over a downed orange-haired individual, a slender leg casually pinning her victim on the floor. As peculiar as it was, Erza Scarlet was the only person he deigned to speak with right now. So, he waved at her, trying his best to ignore the strange circumstances.
Erza dealt another rigid kick to the man's midriff, causing him to release a breathless moan. She had her head bowed as she whispered a thinly-veiled threat that even he could barely hear. Erza then made her way to him, knowing full well that she had the undivided attention of those around her.
"Naruto-san," Erza said amicably. "I never thought we'd meet again so soon."
"Me neither."
Erza turned, smiling at the girl beside him. "I apologise, Wendy-san. The others were merely taken aback because of how young you are, but I can assure you that it was not their intention to belittle your ability."
Hastily, Wendy nodded, accepting the explanation without pause. She kept her head ducked down to hide her embarrassment.
"R-Right, you don't have to apologise."
It was clear that despite their previous awkward confrontation a few weeks back, Wendy still hadn't gotten over her starstruck awe at meeting the famous S-Class mage again.
"Great!" Naruto said, clapping his hands together for effect as he tried to alleviate the spotlight away from his charge.
He was thankful to Erza for her help. It was almost as if he could feel the sudden shift in the group's perception after her small vote of confidence for his teammate. Soon enough, he was pulled into a conversation with the redhead; helpless and partly amused to do anything as Wendy was dragged away to a sofa by the trio of hosts from the equally famous guild, Blue Pegasus.
From his earlier observations, they were... mostly harmless.
"Naruto-san," Erza called out, causing him to tear his eyes away from the entertaining little byplay of Carla and her new male suitor—the blue-furred tomcat whose name escaped him—as he trailed after her like an abashed schoolgirl.
The irony of it was lost on Naruto.
"By any chance have you—" the redhead made a show of clearing her throat, "—read the latest issue of the Weekly Sorcerer?"
"Er, no?"
The gossip rag, which shared polar opposite opinions in his household, with Wendy staunchly defending it and Carla bemoaning about why the girl would do so, had never been on his must-read list.
"They wrote about the time back when you visited Magnolia. They mentioned quite a bit about you, Gajeel and Mira." There was a hesitant pause. "And I as well..."
Naruto was well aware that the 'exclusive' about their assumed love triangle had caused quite a stir, especially in Diligeon where his team was well-known. It had first been brought to his attention after feeling the weight of the moody glares from some of the male, and even female, denizens during their frequent trips into town. That had driven him to gleam information from various sources who were 'in-the-know' about the on-goings in Fiore.
Basically, they were glorified gossip-mongers.
But it was clear that being thrust into the spotlight as one of Mirajane's lovers, the magazine's own famous cover girl—asides from Jenny Realight—had caused his stock to fall among her largely male fan-base. He was glad that Wendy and Carla had not caught wind of it yet, though he did hear Wendy saying something about buying the latest issue after the mission.
Naruto shook his head.
He would cross that bridge when he had to.
"Well, I haven't read it yet, but I did hear about the uh, love triangle." Naruto felt his cheeks flush red at the admission. "T-They'd write anything just to sell their magazine, huh?" he ended it with a laugh, though it was forced.
Erza seemed happy to find another soul who agreed with her.
"You think so too?"
"Yeah, I've been getting some weird looks from people lately."
"It has been the same for me as well. There were some... unflattering things in the magazine about me—" Erza fumbled with her words, "—a-and my apparent dislike for children. I fear it has sullied my reputation in Magnolia. The children in town seem to run away screaming whenever they see me. Although, it could just be they're involving me in one of their hide-and-seek game."
"Y-Yeah, that could be it..."
He reached his hand up to the back of his head to rub at it. Seeing a way to avoid the awkwardness of their current topic, he gestured to the male cat who stood next to Carla, though his teammate was content with just ignoring him.
"It seems like we're not the only ones making nice."
"Yes, you aren't," a masculine voice agreed behind him, the tone dripping with suspicion. The orange-haired man stepped into view beside them, his black eyes narrowing. He swivelled his arms, ending it in some sort of rumba pose. "You must be wondering who I am, no?"
Unsure of what to do, Naruto inclined his head, making no mention of the fact that Erza had jumped back as if his mere presence was like lava.
"I am Ichiya Vandalay Kotobuki," the man said, pronouncing each syllable of his name deliberately. "And I—" he proceeded to wiggle his index finger in the air, face scrunched up as he if he caught onto something, "—have heard quite a bit about you, Naruto-san."
Naruto chose to remain silent, furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out this supposed dirt the man had on him. Slowly, the revelation dawned on him, his expression reversing from confusion to a tasteless grimace. It seemed that there was no escape from having to discuss that damned Weekly Sorcerer issue.
"Oh yeah," he grumbled. "That..."
Ichiya nodded, twisting his lips into a wicked, sleek smile. "That indeed, my boy. It takes a certain kind of man to pull off something like you did. Therefore, I must commend you on your... valour."
"You know it was fake, right? We fought because—"
The perfume mage tutted under his breath.
"Now, now," Ichiya said. "You don't have to hide your reasons for doing so." Placing his forefinger to his lips, he leaned in close and wiggled his brows playfully as he directed his attention towards Erza, who in the midst of their conversation found herself shying far away from them. "Being charming can only get you so far. In the end, one must be prepared to fight for the woman you love."
While Naruto remained silent, unwittingly pondering the man's profound philosophy, Ichiya smiled and patted his arm. "It takes a man to understand and decipher another man's actions, and it is only by doing so that we will take our first step and delve into that deep, uncharted abyss they call love."
A prolonged silence settled between the two as Naruto tried not to squirm.
"Uh, yeah."
Ichiya swept his hair back as he turned. "It has been fascinating to talk with you, Naruto-san. I only hope that we can continue to do so in the future." He walked, rather suspiciously in the general direction where Erza was, but stopped in mid-step, turning his body to offer a final parting pose. "There is a rather exotic aroma about you; something I quite can't place in my collection." Ichiya took an exaggerated whiff and closed his eyes as he basked in Naruto's supposed scent. "Spicy," he finally said. "You truly are a powerful individual."
Ichiya allowed no room for a rebuttal as he briskly headed towards where Erza and Jura were.
The blond had no qualms that he would be their topic of discussion considering the man's veiled assessment of him. For the time being, he'd give the trio a wide berth, his feet already bringing him towards more familiar faces, which in this case, was the under duress expression of one Wendy Marvell.
As it was, someone else stood in his way.
Judging from her tense body language as she tried to maintain the smile on her face, the other blonde must have been at her wits end to get his undivided attention.
"Naruto!"
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Lucy waited for that gleam of recognition to reach his eyes, the strained smile plastered across her face threatening to break with each passing second. When it didn't, Lucy released her smile and sighed heavily. She bowed her head, not wanting the man before her to see how flushed her cheeks were after failing to be recognised.
"You look familiar," he finally said.
In response, she lifted her fringe to show off her forehead, half-hoping that it would make a difference.
"We've met before, remember? Back at Hargeon? At the magic store? Lucy?"
Naruto sucked in a breath, eyes wide. "You're that girl who wanted to join our guild—"
"Yeah!"
"—but didn't," he finished, much to her dismay.
Lucy had the tact to cringe. She wasn't hoping to be remembered in such a negative light. But considering the way they parted in their last meeting and how she had all but dishonoured her agreement to join Cait Shelter, she wouldn't blame him for holding a grudge.
"You're not mad, are you?"
Naruto shrugged. "Nah, I just assumed you found another guild. So... Fairy Tail, huh?"
She rubbed at her guild mark without thinking, laughing weakly. "Well, after we met, one thing just led to another, and well, it just sort of happened."
Much to her relief, he smiled. "That's nice, but it is a shame that you didn't join us. You must be a pretty powerful mage to be chosen for a mission this important."
"I-I'm not," Lucy said. "Natsu and Gray are the ones who really do most of the work." She pointed to the duo in the distance; both of whom were locked in conversation. "And well, you know Erza."
She let him draw his own conclusions about the redhead. She was surprised to see that the two did apparently know each other—quite well too, it seemed.
Naruto looked unconvinced.
"It's not good to sell yourself short. I'm sure you're capable. Your teammates must think so if they brought you along."
The Celestial Spirit mage dismissed his claims with an erratic wave of her hand. "I-It's not like that! I'm just someone they dragged along to fill up the numbers."
He laughed, though it didn't sound judgemental. "Well, you could always quit and join us."
It spoke volumes of how Fairy Tail had endeared and wormed its way into her heart that even considering the offer was the farthest thing in her mind. It did leave for a momentary awkward instance where she was incapable to decide how to proceed.
Was his offer genuine?
It was obviously a joke, right? What if it wasn't? How could she be so cruel and inconsiderate to reject his offer a second time?
She could only imagine the look on his face if this didn't play out right. Lucy tensed at that thought. It was as if her perception of time had slowed into a crawl. The taller blond in front of her was looking at her strangely now, his mouth inching open ever so slowly as he tried to utter her name.
"Lucy."
As it happened, another voice called out to her; his familiar bored and boyish tone was a welcome surprise as the pink-haired Dragon Slayer greeted her. "Natsu!" she exclaimed loudly, thankful for the save her friend had presented her. She dragged him by the arm, hoping that his introduction would distract Naruto. "This is—"
Rather surprisingly, the Dragon Slayer cut her off:
"Naruto Uzumaki."
His tone left no room for pleasantries, not even bothering to hide his discretion as he sized up Naruto openly as if he were an opponent.
It was only then she remembered how Naruto had been on Natsu's 'Fight Me' list. Lucy was understandably worried about the consequences of a fight between the two, and before knowing the details to this particular mission, she knew the odds of them meeting were firmly against that, but now...
These two were standing in front of each other.
Natsu showed surprising restraint already by not jumping at Naruto with fists aflame. Lucy had to wonder whether it tied to the heated confrontation she saw between Erza, Master Makarov and him before they left for the mission.
In a move that surprised her once again, Natsu's hostililty shifted a total one-eighty as he took a hand to his chin, and in a rare moment, appeared pensive. "Hmm, I know I've heard the name Wendy before. That's why Gray told me to ask you." He paused, regarding Naruto fully now. "Could you help remember it for me?"
Naruto looked unsure for a moment. "I'm not sure how that works. Is it some kind of mind magic? I've never heard of it before."
The pink-haired boy nodded.
"Me too," he agreed.
Naruto looked to her for some assurance, confused. "Uh, well... I do know that Wendy has heard of you, and we did once go to your guild about two weeks ago trying to find you. Maybe someone told you about us?"
"No," Natsu said, bobbing his head from side to side. "That's not it..."
"You could try asking her for yourself. She's pretty excited about finally being able to meet a Dragon Slayer. Well, another one anyways. She probably wants to talk to you about—"
As if the world righted itself, Natsu stamped a fist into his open hand.
"That's it!"
He laughed gleefully, sparing Naruto a thankful glance before barrelling towards the young girl being tended to by the Trimens.
That was unexpected.
This would have been the third (or fourth if she counted Laxus) Dragon Slayer she had met in her short time at Fairy Tail. She was starting to have her misgivings about this supposed magic being rare. Or she could just blame it on her luck. Though, that didn't stop her from sharing Natsu's enthusiasm as she joined in his laughter.
Lucy ignored the fact that his presence had only served to agitate Hibiki and his cohorts further. Natsu had jumped atop the table, halting their discussion as he threw a slew of questions at Wendy. His boisterous nature didn't deter Wendy, who seemed equally happy to field his questions.
Lucy turned to Naruto. Seeing his frown showed what he thought of Natsu, though she wasn't exactly sure what was bothering him so much.
"They look happy," she said. "Natsu is... special that way."
Naruto resigned himself to a tired smile. "Yeah, they do. It's what she wanted anyway. I just hope she won't be too disappointed again."
"Disappointed?"
"Yeah, we already met this other Dragon Slayer, Gajeel, and it turned out to be a bust," Naruto explained. "She tried to hide it afterwards, but I knew she was upset. Even then, she didn't really want to talk about it."
"Oh."
Slowly, the excited chatter died down to a dull roar, as the duo bitterly concluded that they were no further to finding their foster parents than before.
Somehow, Lucy had missed seeing Naruto slip away in the midst of the byplay, finding him already at other end of the room, leaning against a corner close to where Wendy was, but not entirely intruding.
Inwardly, the heiress sighed.
She didn't want to question his team dynamics, but from where she stood, Naruto and the white-furred cat (whom Happy confessed to have a liking for) were extremely protective of their charge, almost to the point of suffocation.
Lucy couldn't help but feel a sliver of resentfulness at the attention the girl received. She smiled faintly, her train of thought inadvertently bringing her back to her wayward father.
She wondered how he was doing now...
0.0
The brown-haired man stared hard at the imposing cross-shaped coffin.
The dim lighting, given off by the scattered few candles in the dank and dark cave, didn't offer much in terms of brightness; not that he was dependent on his sight. His exceptional hearing had always been his prized asset.
So, as he leaned against a wall, he had to wonder why he had been pulled for this morbidly-depressing task when his services could be better applied elsewhere; like crushing the Light Alliance dead in its tracks, or trying to find Nirvana.
He heard the soft hiss of his partner and one true friend echo. Idly, he turned to where the snake was, coiled into itself in front of him.
"I think I get what you're saying, Cuberos."
If his exceptional hearing had ever failed him, it would be his inability to understand his large purple-winged snake; something even his rare Dragon Slayer magic could not overcome. Cuberos responded with a series of intermittent hisses. He narrowed his eyes, grimacing as he strained his ears as best as he could. Not soon after, he breathed a restless sigh.
"You've lost me there."
He stood straight, dusting the back of his white coat, as he walked towards the entrance to their temporary base of operations. He found the warm glow of the sun a much better companion than some half-dead idiot stuck in a damn coffin. Of course, opinions aside, that half-dead idiot was instrumental to activating Nirvana. Still, just because the guy was important didn't make him any less cranky about it.
Cobra stopped at the mouth of the cave, closing his eyes as he counted back from three.
Three...
Two..
One.
A blurry figure whooshed past his left, circling around him before stopping dead centre just an arm's length away.
"Got bored, Cobra?" the figure asked, smirking.
Cobra could have only guessed that smirk reached up to those beady eyes of his; right behind the dark-tinted goggles. Despite knowing the tall, gangly man for most of his life, he found his eyes inexplicably drawn to the yellow rooster-like comb that he called hair.
Racer had always been weird like that.
"Whatever," Cobra groused, pointing his head towards the tall coffin. "How long until he wakes up?"
Racer glided past him, getting close to examine the runes carved onto the coffin. As his hands brushed against a particular rune, it glowed a soft white, connecting the adjacent runes together, as it rapidly took the shape of a criss-crossing hexagon. It then slowly extinguished.
"A couple of hours from what Brain-sama told me," Racer explained, shrugging. "But he never would have brought this man here without a way to revive him. Give it time."
Cobra snorted. "Obviously."
To him, that had to be the very definition of irony. For someone known for his unhealthy obsession with speed, here he was, telling someone to be patient.
"Oi," Racer called out. "Isn't Midnight supposed to be with you?"
Cobra turned towards the rear of the cave, which was even more sparsely lit by the flickering candles. The vaguest outline of Midnight peered through the darkness, accentuated by the oddity of his hovering magic carpet as he dozed blissfully while seated cross-legged atop it. He levelled a sharp glare at the only other conscious member of his guild, signalling to remain silent.
Racer had the cheek to scoff at him. "Paranoid much?"
Cobra had indeed given the androgynous man a wide berth, but he was far from afraid of Midnight; he was simply unnerved by the other boy's presence, and it wasn't because of his striking make-up or even the elaborate clothes. The simple fact was that the two rarely spent time alone in the company of each other, even during missions.
Their traumatic experience at the Tower of Heaven may have brought them together to serve a higher purpose, but he would never deign to call any of them his friends, even Racer, whom he found to be the most agreeable.
Cuberos was the only friend he could ever count on.
As if hearing his thoughts, his companion snaked its head up towards him, its forked tongue flickering in what he believed to be a show of gratitude, to which he returned with an appreciative grin.
"You are just so weird," Racer said.
Cobra scowled, intending to shove Racer aside, but only to come upon thin air. His scowl deepened as he found Racer leaning near the entrance, grinning. He chose not to act on his rash impulses, as shadows loomed behind Racer.
It wasn't long before the new entrants revealed themselves and entered their makeshift base.
Brain was at the fore, leading the way.
His dark skin was a sharp contrast to the silver hair that reached down to his shoulders. The man bore the insignia of Oración Seis with pride; the large black crest noticeable due to the opening in his vest. Brain cast his eyes around their base, drawing attention to the strange markings in the form of linear black lines that ran across his features.
"Has there been any changes with the subject?" Brain asked briskly, not even deigning to look at the Poison Dragon Slayer as the man swept past him.
"No," Cobra replied in an equal tone that belied his aggravation.
How the hell was he supposed to know if there were any changes? It wasn't like he could see through the damn thing.
Brain drew closer towards the coffin.
The tall man's daunting wooden staff clanked with every step he took. Cobra had always wondered whose body their leader had defiled in order to make that skull ornament for his staff.
Of course, he held his tongue.
Even he wasn't that much of an idiot.
Brain's hands travelled across the width of the coffin, and there was a faint click that Cobra assumed only he could hear. As runes danced across the surface, continuing the process that he had seen Racer perform just earlier, their leader seemed to share his earlier frustrations as the same conclusion dawned on him.
"This is a setback, right?" the second entrant said.
Hoteye was a large man, easily the largest amongst the Oración Seis. His clothes resembled something one would expect from a priest, as was the way he carried himself. The prayer beads slung around his neck and the strange tome that he carried around at all times (the contents of which he guarded to the point of obsession) certainly added to the image.
"Inconsequential," Brain said simply. "The wheels are already in motion. Our plans will proceed one way or the other."
Hoteye launched into a sermon-like diatribe, expounding on the pitfalls of such inconsequential setbacks and how it would affect his profits margins. Such occurrences were so common that hardly anyone paid Hoteye attention.
"So what do we do now?" Cobra asked.
Brain drew his eyes towards him, and even Cobra couldn't help but feel the leader was looking through him as if he was transparent. The dark-skinned man was an anomaly—a freak of nature—that even with his exceptional hearing, could not pierce the man's thoughts.
"We will proceed with our initial plan of finding Nirvana by ourselves. His recovery will take slightly longer than I anticipated, but it is all in due time," Brain answered before turning to Racer. "In the meantime, have you done what was instructed?"
Racer nodded curtly. "The other guilds have already settled in the fringes of the area. They were most vocal of their gratitude to be able to... support our cause."
His subsequent smirk was infectious; one which Cobra mirrored with relish.
The power they had amassed since their meteoric rise to the top of the Balam Alliance had afforded them a number of willing followers. It was ridiculous how fanatical their devotion was to Oración Seis.
"Good," Brain said. "We've already received word from Angel that the mages from the legal guilds have gathered."
Cobra clenched his fists in anticipation; the promise of an impending battle sent shivers down his spine. If there was one thing Brain wasn't going to take from him, it was this. Like hell he was going to sit here and babysit the coffin.
"Yes." Brain's lips curved up into a thin smile. "It won't be long before we crush those maggots who would dare to stand in our way."
As their leader fell quiet once again, only the soft snores of Midnight punctured the permeating silence in the cave. Once more, the spiky-haired man battled against his impulses to snort, not wanting to catch the ire of his adopted father.
Cheh, that was so corny...
0.0
The plan that the Light Alliance had devised was so simple that even Naruto could have thought of it by himself, and he was no master tactician.
Sadly, it appeared that none of them were either.
Ichiya had taken the mantle upon himself; a fact he had explained after scampering off to the restroom. Naruto wouldn't begrudge the man for doing so, seeing that the Trimens had taken the initiative to scope out their targets and pre-emptively outlay their 'six-point plan':
Locate their base of operations and bomb the stuffing out of the Oración Seis.
It was on paper, a low-risk gamble with a chance of success, but his instincts had screamed otherwise. Even if their plan were to succeed, he wasn't sure that his separate objective to destroy Nirvana and the alliance's objective to stop Oración Seis were mutually exclusive.
Sadly, Natsu—whose eagerness far outstripped his sensibility—was already set on his ways even before the strategy meeting could be concluded. He had barrelled out the mansion, hollering at his unseen enemies to show themselves. In that short space of time where Naruto couldn't even muster the strength to blink, the rest of the alliance had somehow acknowledged Natsu's charge as a challenge and chased after him.
"They do realise that enemies won't show up just because you shout at them to, right...? Well, most of them anyway," Naruto said. He was far too versed in the matter after a string of similar failed attempts back when he was younger. He glanced at Jura, whose stern face was amplified by a small frown.
"Maybe not, Naruto-dono."
Naruto chose not to question the suffix the bald man had added to his name, chalking it up to one of those things that he shouldn't be bothered to ask in the first place. Turning, he exchanged a quizzical look with his teammates, both of whom were waiting for him to make a decision. Only their team, Jura, and the strange man known as Ichiya were the ones who had remained behind.
"Should we go after them?" Wendy asked.
"Hmm, I see no reason why we shouldn't stick to the original plan," Ichiya said. "Naruto-san, perhaps it would be best for you and your team to pursue them while Jura-san and I prepare the airship."
The Wizard Saint held up a hand to interrupt him. "If I may, Ichiya-dono? Why don't the four of us help to prepare the airship together? It would certainly help to speed things up."
"Are you sure, Jura-san? Despite the unlikely probability, I wouldn't count against Oración Seis coming out in the open to confront us. Having Naruto-san and his team there would certainly even the odds should the unthinkable happen."
Naruto had to stifle a laugh. "I doubt they'd be that dumb."
It was indiscernible but he missed the flash of indignation that Ichiya directed his way at the slight.
"While I dislike underestimating my opponents, I would have to agree with Naruto-dono. However, time is of the essence and every minute we waste, Oración Seis steps closer to unsealing Nirvana. The faster we proceed, the sooner we will be able to gather our forces and stop them." Jura stepped forward, features set in conviction. "Shall we?"
Ichiya looked hesitant, but in the end, he consented with a firm nod. "Of course, this way," he said, striding ahead of the group as he led the way out of the mansion. "But I must ask you to be mindful once you're aboard. My Christina is a... fragile young thing."
"Really now! Is that an appropriate choice of words to use in front of a young girl?"
Ichiya mumbled something inaudible as he ignored the feline, before turning to the tall man once again. "Jura-san, you never did finish explaining your status as a Wizard Saint."
The bald mage looked abashed. "Please, my title is superficial at best."
"Oh? How so?"
"Even though I share the same title with a mage as renowned as Makarov-dono, my abilities pale in comparison to his," Jura said. "Why, I'm sure there are other mages who are much stronger than me, but were passed over for the title."
"Nonetheless," Ichiya said. "It is a relief to know that we have someone of your calibre on our side. Our enemies would surely think twice before confronting us, especially with the both of you present."
"The both of us?" Naruto voiced out in confusion.
"You give yourself far too little credit, Naruto-san. You've accomplished something very few mages have ever done in their lifetime. Overcoming a Dragon Slayer, someone as infamous as Gajeel Redfox, is a feat to be proud of, especially with the exposure surrounding your fight." Ichiya snapped his fingers. "Despite what you think, that face of yours has been causing quite a wave in the community."
"Huh, you don't say..."
For some reason, Naruto was unable to shake off the sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
0.0
Unknown to the small group, back at the mansion, a figure—partially hidden in the shadows—stepped forward into the main hall. The white-haired woman swept her black eyes over the high-ceiling room and breathed a restless sigh, hugging her arms around her body.
Having remained out of sight for the duration of the strategy meeting, Angel couldn't resist the small bubble of hysterics that escaped her. The risk of taking down Jura was far too great to jeopardize Gemini's cover as Ichiya, especially in front of that other boy and his team. She may have failed in taking down only one of her original targets, but fate had given her an alternative.
A better one at that.
The chance to take down the alliance in one fell swoop would surely repent for her failure to Brain-sama. She only hoped that her magical capacity would be enough to sustain her Celestial Spirit's transformation ability until the end of its infiltration.
Being the first Zodiac Key to come into her possession, Angel knew the capabilities of the twins inside and out.
Gemi and Mini's Achilles' heel to maintain its mimicry for a limited period of time was a definite liability and would surely be tested to its limits here, but she held faith in her own abilities. After all, a Celestial Spirit mage shouldn't simply rest on their laurels once they found a key. There was a lot more to it than just understanding the dynamics of their spirits; it was also tied to the summoner's potential to grow.
A weak summoner meant a weak spirit.
It was as simple as that.
And Angel was, by no means, weak.
Even if her chances of success were against the odds, Angel held hope that her prayers would be answered. One simply couldn't fade into the sky like her namesake without accomplishing her guild's, or more accurately, Brain-sama's ultimate vision first.
"It's only a matter of time now."
0.0
Switching with a clone to take his place aboard the airship was reasonably simple, though keeping Wendy and Carla off his trail was another thing altogether.
Naruto did have his doubts about leaving his team in the hands of his clone, but the sooner he found a way to destroy this Nirvana thing, the sooner he'd be able to get back to them. Although it did leave him with the tricky task of finding it first. Chief Roubaul may have outlined its general location, but the man had confessed that it had been close to four hundred years since then.
The landscape was certainly different now.
That was what brought him to the present, skipping from one tree branch to another as he scoured the large forested area of Worth Woodsea.
The immediate thing that set off the alarm klaxons in his head was that his sensor ability had been nullified the moment he entered Sage Mode. The rank, oppressive energy that he could only assume to be caused by Nirvana had handicapped him to a limited range of ten metres, at best. It was only by following the slightest change in concentration of the oppressive energy that he had been able to have a broad sense of where to go.
As it was, his natural inclination for persistence paid off.
Naruto leapt off a tree branch and landed in a small crouch. Righting himself, he stared at the state of the surrounding forest.
It was dying.
The forest was devoid of its natural earthly colour; now replaced with dreary black tones one would associate with plague and death. Right before his eyes, the trees were decaying. He stepped up to one and examined it, feeling the brittle bark crumble under his touch. The large patch of undergrowth had thickened with the sheer number of dead, crusty leaves dropping off the now visible thin branches.
Grumbling, Naruto held back a curse as he felt the natural energy fade from his person, his yellow-slitted eyes reverting back to their original blue hue. Too absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't begin the process of gathering it again.
He really should have pressed Roubaul for more information then. The vague and cryptic answers he received didn't help him at all. He had to wonder whether Roubaul really wanted him to destroy Nirvana in the first place.
The soft rustle of leaves snapped him back to attention.
Unconsciously, he yanked his body sideways as his gaze trailed after the bulky projectile that flew in an arc towards him. His eyes widened at the lacrima orb, knowing full well what it was. Across from him, a noticeable muzzle flash was the last thing he saw before it all went to hell.
Boom!
0.0
A heavily-armoured individual stilled as the resultant shockwave from the explosion swept over his person.
Armed to the teeth, the man was fully suited in a dull-toned combat armour, equipped with a face-concealing rebreather; one that systematically recycled the air they exhale to avoid coming in contact with the airborne agents they frequently used. The only marked difference that set him apart from the rest of his similarly suited comrades was the small personalised name engraved on his chest plate.
Tango rested on his stomach, his position carefully hidden in a clump of bushes, as he observed the area with a trained eye, augmented by the sinister red glow emitting from the visor of his mask.
He had been far too accustomed to the scratchy feedback, as a result of the detonation, ringing in his ears to miscalculate the next approach. Holding two fingers in the air, he then gestured to his mouth to his similarly hidden comrades.
Two gas canisters were chucked towards the blast radius, hissing a thick, purple paralysing agent upon making contact with the ground. With another small gesture, he and the rest of his twelve-man squad—whose positions had covered for optimal angles of fire—stood to a crouch, unleashing a relentless assault of intermittent gunfire. The display of strength wasn't only flashy, but the damage was further augmented by their magically-compressed rounds.
It had been their ruthless efficiency that had garnered their less-than-wholesome reputation as an assassination squad in Fiore. It didn't matter that their guild only consisted of a modest number of twelve; their stellar performance record spoke volumes of strength and deadliness born from teamwork.
The Flying Hellfish was a guild to be feared, but that was until a lone member from Oración Seis showed up at their metaphorical doorstep. In a swift, decisive battle, the large mage known as Hoteye had single-handedly brought them to their knees.
Their egos crushed from the humiliating defeat, the group had reached upon a consensus to become an arm of the fearsome Oración Seis lest the eccentric mage made true with his threat to slaughter them all for a tidy profit. Now, they were nothing more than faithful lapdogs that catered to the whims of the powerful guild.
It was at the behest of their masters to intercept and stop unknown elements, should they come across any in the large forest, with extreme prejudice. Sadly, they knew that they weren't the only ones roped in on this.
Tango held up a hand once more to give the command for a cease fire as they waited for a visual confirmation. Slowly, the cloud of debilitation subsided, but what was alarming was that their target was nowhere in sight.
Wary of the unknown abilities of this particular mage, Tango ordered for a change.
His squad mates were alert but cagey as they requipped their bulky rifles for a more suitable close-quarter combat gear.
With a combat knife and side-armside-arm in tow, Zulu, Charlie and Lima abandoned their post and converged on the target's last location with carefully-measured steps. The follow-up sweep was fast and precise before the rest of the squad loosely regrouped around the area.
"Clear," Zulu called out. His voice was heavily distorted by the rebreather, causing the drab monotone as he spoke, "You think he ran away?"
In the blink of an eye, he found himself staring down the barrel sights of the rest of his comrades as the assassination squad trained their firearms at him; fingers poised on the triggers.
"Wait! What are you—"
It was Lima who broke the deadlock.
Without hesitation, he pumped a single point-blank round at the structurally delicate slit of the mask. A small spatter of blood gushed from the fatal wound as Zulu's body jerked backwards. Before his slowly-cooling body could even touch the ground, Zulu burst into a cloud of smoke. Their relief was momentarily foregone as they swivelled around wildly, hoping to spot any sign of their assailant.
Tango grimaced, which remained unseen under his mask.
The infiltrator must have been extremely competent (combined with whatever strange magic he employed) if he had been able to neutralise the real Zulu and supplant him so swiftly, but he obviously had little to no knowledge of their standard combat protocol.
It had been their first rule of engagement: to maintain silence at all times.
Even if the infiltration was impressive, it was hard to fool the squad otherwise. Having spent countless hours together and having their wills tried and tested, their small guild was a close-knit group. It was actually surprising that they didn't notice the switch in the first place.
More to the point, the spy must have had no idea that Zulu was a mute.
Tango spared a thought for Zulu's current condition, but remained focused on more distressing matters. For one thing, he couldn't rule out the possibility that other members of his squad had been compromised. With a quick gesture, the twelve-man team separated from each other, maintaining a fixed distance between them.
Strapping his combat knife back in its sheath, his free hand twitched to the front of his mask, struggling with the pros and cons of ordering his squad to remove the gear to fully ascertain their identity. It wasn't like he could tell if someone was lying through the mask, but doing so would leave their identities exposed.
In the end, it could turn out to do more harm than good.
Across from him, Sierra held his fist up, proceeding to throw a sequence of signals to ask what their next step was. He was barely able to finish before a metallic glint flew towards him, the projectile easily piercing through his open palm.
The drab monotonous scream that escaped from his lips served as the opening to their assailant's counter-attack.
Tango had been right to be wary of their enemy's strange abilities. Immediately following the attack, Alpha and Foxtrot broke rank, running at speeds that disregarded their bulky combat armour as they engaged those nearest to them. Sucking in a breath, Tango took aim at his rogue squad mates before firing a rapid burst from his side-arm. A round managed to tag his target's shoulder.
It was enough to dispel one of the rogues, but not before incapacitating one of their own.
Foxtrot, the only surviving rogue left, made quick work of his opponent despite the handicap of having to manoeuvre around a hail of bullets directed his way. It wasn't long before he was taken down after a well-executed flanking move. It was unfortunate that one of their stray bullets had clipped Delta in the process, effectively rendering him useless.
There was a momentary lull, punctually broken by the heavy wheezing from the stooped form of Sierra. Still, it gave Tango enough time to do a quick head count and gather what was left of his squad.
They had been caught with their pants around their ankles; too stunned and skills comparably inadequate to deal with this unknown's abilities, but he had to give his opponent credit when it was due. Using such crude guerrilla tactics to weed and thin out their numbers was as effective as it was crippling.
The fact that only half his team was left standing was a testament to it.
Tango glanced at Sierra, inwardly hoping that the man would be able to pull himself together and help bolster their half-depleted firepower.
"Sierra!" he hissed, foregoing any inclination of proper protocol. There was a time and place for everything and this wasn't it, not when they were out here like sitting ducks. "Man up and yank that thing out or so help me, I'll do it myself!"
There was a brief moment when it looked like the man was hesitant to do so, but Sierra gingerly brought his injured palm closer to him. Hands shaking in trepidation, Sierra pulled the odd projectile from the wound in one swift motion, wasting no time in tossing it as far away from his person. A noticeable shudder racked through his body as the man pressed it against his chest.
Sierra swayed to his feet.
Sierra took a deep breath to steel himself, and with a bent knee, the soldier reached down for his side-arm that remained just out of his reach. Unfortunately, he barely had enough time to register the pain as a similar knife punctured his previously uninjured hand.
Another agonizing scream tore from his rebreather.
It was quickly drowned out by deafening blisters of gunfire as the rest of the squad laid down suppressing fire at the general direction where their hidden assailant was thought to be.
Tango had to bite back a curse as he continued to spray the surrounding trees with a vicious burst. He never thought he'd find himself in this predicament; throwing away the element of surprise and the better vantage point was unlike them.
The tables were turned.
The target was now their predator and he couldn't help but feel like he was prolonging the inevitable.
The rustle of leaves just to the right of his position drew the entire squad's attention as they let loose another careless volley. It had caught him off balance as he unloaded yet another magazine before the simplistic trap of misdirection dawned on him.
"Contact left!" he barked.
But the counter-offensive didn't merely flank them on the left, it had swarmed the whole area as dozens of mirror look-alike soldiers converged on them. They were like a mindless hive, charging with reckless abandon as they dodged and dipped graciously from the line of fire, taking some of the members by surprise as they were soundly besieged by the horde. It was another thing he had not accounted for: their scattered positioning around the forest had been a major disadvantage to them.
Heart pounding frantically in his ear, Tango tried to slow his racing heartbeat. His eyes stung like crazy, but he forced himself not to blink.
Suddenly, it changed.
The purest form of adrenaline coursed through his veins, jolting the synapses in his brain to life. His already sharp vision magnified, straining the veins around his eyes as his vision clouded in a bloody red haze. The Rush—as he'd like to call it—wasn't an ability he'd classify as a caster-type magic; it was just an incredibly useful tool which he had honed to perfection.
Time slowed to a crawl before his eyes.
Making full use of the brief window afforded by his ability, pure instinct guided his body as he methodically brought down clone after clone. The hazy shrouds brought about by their destruction were not nearly dissipating fast enough as it began to obstruct his vision. At least, he was buying enough time to prepare for their next move.
"Kilo!" he shouted over his shoulder, hoping against hope that the only capable caster mage in their squad was ready.
Kilo didn't need to be told twice.
Clutching his side-arm, he brought his arms to bear a cross before him as he started to fuel the necessary potency behind the attack. Gradually, a translucent silver intensity danced down the length of his sleeves, pooling it around his fists.
"Down!" Kilo yelled over the din of gunfire, thrusting his arms to the side as he expelled the energy just a fraction of a second after his comrades scattered and dived to the ground.
The pulse of compressed energy burst forth from his person in a full rotation. The height of the attack was isolated to a paper-thin arc originating from his hands, but the impact was instantaneous as the pulse slammed into the horde, destroying the magical creations as far as it could reach.
As a thick, billowing cloud descended onto their position, Tango realised that even this attack had been a ploy of misdirection. The smokescreen was a similar make to the gas canisters they employed; he could even hear the familiar hiss of smoke escaping from the nozzle.
He cursed.
Their assailant must have snagged their smokescreen canisters from the downed squad members. Still, he was relieved that the man hadn't used the more dangerous armaments. Tango shuddered to think if their combined concussive and chemical canisters got in their enemy's hands.
"Scatter and regroup outside the perimeter!" he ordered shakily to the encompassing smoke, inwardly hoping that any conscious members of his squad would heed his orders.
It was a tactical retreat.
He was sure that those clones would soon be closing in on the group. Despite knowing there was strength in numbers, he was far too paranoid to deal with the idea of a squad member being replaced in the confusion.
There was nothing worse than a traitor covering their back.
Thumbing a quick reload of his side-arm, Tango trembled as the adrenaline rush withdrew from his system. With a hesitant step forward, he delved into the blackened forest, eyes peeling around his blind spot for a sudden ambush. Fear and anxiety heightened his other senses—as incapable as they were—to the point of pushing him close to the edge. It was barely there, but he kept imagining the rustles of leaves crinkling under footsteps that were not his own.
It wasn't long before the faint but discernible gurgle of someone being choked to submission reached his ears. It sounded distant, but the sensation of hearing it stop suddenly, followed by a heavy body dropping to the ground, was as morbid as it was foreboding.
Against his better judgement, he fired a round at the noise, shifting his position to take cover behind a tree.
A distorted scream filled the forest.
"Don't shoot! It's me, Echo! Do—"
Echo promptly fell silent as another faint thud accompanied the unnatural silence.
Tango froze, his breaths coming in laboured and heavy from exhaustion. An ungodly pressure crushed his chest as guilt and uncertainty consumed him. He was unwilling to believe that he had inadvertently caused Echo's demise. Throwing caution to the wind, Tango stood to his full height and requipped out of his bulky combat armour for a less restrictive outfit that favoured mobility; a simple attire of matching black clothing.
The air felt cool against his shaved head, revealing the modest amount of scars and blemishes that tarnished his skin. He swept his brown eyes over his surroundings once more before sprinting as fast as he could away from the area.
"T-Tango?"
With practised ease, he turned, side-arm in one hand and a knife in the other, as he trained it on the armoured individual—sans face mask.
Undaunted, Bravo adopted a similar stance before lowering his weapon.
"This is what he's trying to do, Tango. Make us turn against each another!" Bravo said. "Listen, I think we're the only two left and it won't make things any better if we're falling right into his trap!"
A flash of orange struck out just behind Bravo's blind spot. The seemingly long appendage, attached to an open-toed sandal, was hidden in the shadows of the forest. The blow swiped the man hard against the side of his head. The damage was done as Bravo was thrown off balance, blood spurting from his lips as the impact forced him sideways. A pair of hands became visible as they followed up with a rapid thrust to the man's back, finally putting him to the ground.
If that first strike didn't do him in, then the second one obviously did.
Tango wasted no time in unloading his magazine at the rapidly-approaching enemy. Once again, he chastised his luck at the lengthy downtime for his Rush ability to recover. His blond assailant had somehow managed to duck and weave through his assault, easing in the distance to a metre. Desperation got the better of him. He released his side-arm and opted for a more intimate approach.
Grasping his serrated knife in a reverse grip, he too rushed the short gap to meet his opponent head-on. Tango sliced the air threateningly, trying to create an opening as he aimed the knife at the jugular, intent on misdirecting Blondie's attention with a counter to the solar plexus.
As expected, his knife thrust was parried, but Tango's narrow-minded focus had caught him unaware. Expecting his opponent to block it with a hand to the inside of his wrist, Blondie swiftly met the attack with his own hidden blade.
The sudden clash of steel threw him off before his aggressor started to force his knife down with brute force. It caused him to prematurely ditch his plan as he valiantly tried to stall for another opening. Tango stepped back, the serrated edge of his combat knife screeching against his opponent's black tipped blade as it was dragged upwards. Immediately, he snapped a front kick to his opponent's abdomen, afforded by his taller frame.
Blondie grunted as the kick connected, but Tango was a fraction of a second too slow in pulling back as the boy latched onto his ankle in an underarm lock.
Judging by the ghost of a smile that flashed across his enemy's face, it was pre-planned.
Tango didn't notice his hands move, but the thrown projectile that slipped from Blondie's fingers was close to hitting a vital spot had he not parried it away with his knife. Aware that his opponent was defenceless and he himself immobilised, Tango too flung his combat knife at him—aimed for a decisive kill.
It was insane how fast Blondie reacted.
Tango barely had the chance to scream as his assailant dislocated the joint in his ankle with a hard tug, releasing it before side-stepping around his desperate ranged attack. With a quick blur of yellow and orange, Blondie had moved inside his guard before his injured leg had the chance to hit the ground. Tango was equally unprepared for a vice-like grip to wrap itself around his wrist.
Blondie then carried through the fluid motion as a knee battered through his guard and collided against his midsection.
The crushing attack caused his diaphragm to spasm, leaving him winded as he instinctively tried to suck in a breath. His listless body was like a rag-doll being toyed with as his opponent turned on his heel and flipped him over the shoulder.
Another agonising moan escaped him.
Wincing again, Blondie knelt, using his body weight as leverage, and locked his wrist in submission, painfully close to dislocating the joint like he had done with his ankle.
Tango peered up, steeling himself to appear resolute before the unnerving blue eyes of his assailant.
"Care to tell me where Nirvana is?"
0.0
Naruto was careful to apply just the right amount of pressure as he leaned in, distractedly taking a moment to survey his surroundings amidst the pained hisses of his captive.
The blanketing smoke from the gas canisters he had used earlier had long since dissipated, revealing the other two shadow clones off in the distance. Both of whom gave him a quick thumbs up as they stood over the unconscious bodies of his enemies. The ruthless take-down he had employed would ensure that their enemies stayed down for the count, even if he had not been so crude with disabling their ability to fight, like he had done with the man underneath him.
"I... I don't k-know anything," the man forced out quietly, suppressing a hiss as Naruto increased the pressure on his wrist. "Look, we were just o-ordered to stall anyone who comes through the f-forest. That's all! I. Swear."
Naruto silently debated the man's words.
It was highly likely that their little squad was merely cannon fodder to Oración Seis. From what little he understood, the powerful dark guild wasn't one to share their grand ambitions with their underlings.
"P-Please," the man pleaded, not bothering to hide his pained grimace. "Let go!"
Naruto spared him a glance before he nodded, his unoccupied hand was already freeing up a kunai from the weapons pouch on his thigh.
"W-Wait, I told you everything I—"
Without fanfare, Naruto twirled the kunai around its ring before slamming the butt of the weapon against the man's temple, knocking him out cold.
Ah, it looks like he was telling the truth then. People were always more willing to do so when staring death in the eyes.
Naruto released the death grip on his captive's wrist as he stood up, dusting off the speckle of dirt on his pants in the process. His clones, who were trying to conserve what little equipment he had left, had started to drag and bind their unconscious enemies to the thick trunk of a blackened tree.
It seemed that he was no closer to Nirvana than before, leaving him with the only option of using his sensor abilities to slowly weed out its location. With an unenthusiastic sigh, he ambled over to them, leaving a noticeable drag mark on the forest floor as he lugged the prone body of his captive along with him.
He blinked owlishly as Hibiki's panicked voice intruded his conscience.
:We have a situation. There's an imposter aboard—:
It suddenly disconnected, and he was unprepared for what happened next.
The instant the clone's memories from aboard the ship were relayed back to him, his features froze in equal parts shock and dread.
Naruto ran up to the nearest tree to gain a better vantage point, his eyes searching the skies for any sign of the airship. He spotted it off in the distance, but from where he was, it looked like a speck of dirt against the blue backdrop.
Suddenly, the stillness of the large expanse of towering trees was punctuated by a much larger, far deadlier explosion than the one he had been privy to earlier.
Stunned, Naruto saw the billowing smoke that was starting to rise far off in the distance. Whatever hope that he held onto in his chest for Wendy and Carla's safety was unreservedly crushed.
"Oh, fu—"
Side Note: Yo, thanks for the support.
Celestial Spirit Summons: I know the limitations of Gemini's transformations ability, which is said to last only for five , an obscure reference in the wiki stated that a summon's powers is not entirely fixed, so I kind of ran with it by tying their power level to the summoner's.
Oracion Seis Arc: There has been some worries that I would follow canon step by step. Oh ye o' little faith, have 'some' faith that I can keep it fresh for your reading pleasure.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone