Time passed quickly.
The half-hour intermission that had been given to the audience and contestants should have been enough for the atmosphere to calm down.
It did not.
If anything, the break only gave everyone more time to get excited.
The entire stadium still sounded like it was sitting on top of a volcano of cheering, gossip, speculation, and unresolved gambling disputes. Even after thirty minutes, the crowd had not truly settled. People were still waving banners, shouting names, arguing over who deserved to make it into the Top 8, and replaying the preliminary battle royale in their heads with increasingly dramatic exaggerations.
The floating lacrima screens hovering above the stadium displayed highlights from the previous round.
Every time Erza appeared, the crowd roared.
Every time Erik's poison swept over an area, half the audience cheered while the other half shuddered.
Every time Adam's labyrinth swallowed another unlucky contestant, people laughed like they were watching a comedy performance rather than a public magical elimination event.
And it was not only the stadium.
Across Magnolia, more floating screens had been deployed above major plazas, taverns, rooftops, and market streets.
Townspeople crowded around them with snacks and drinks in hand, still talking excitedly about what they had just witnessed. Children climbed onto parents' shoulders. Shopkeepers leaned out of windows. Even several Rune Knights assigned to crowd control had been caught glancing upward more than once.
Fairy Tail had turned a guild festival into a citywide holiday.
And now, the real battles were about to begin.
High above the stadium, inside the elevated commentator booth, Krampus and Laxus sat side by side before a row of glowing broadcast lacrimas.
The booth itself was absurdly luxurious.
Wide windows overlooked the entire arena. Communication lacrimas floated around them like tiny moons. Projection screens displayed contestant data, battlefield options, betting odds, medical readiness, and magical barrier stability. A small snack table sat off to the side, mostly untouched by Krampus but constantly raided by Laxus.
Krampus adjusted the collar of his red coat, cleared his throat, and leaned toward the main broadcast crystal.
His massive frame filled one side of every floating screen across the stadium and Magnolia.
Beside him, Laxus leaned back with one arm over his chair, looking relaxed, smug, and entirely too comfortable for someone about to help announce battles that could flatten hills.
The crowd saw them appear and immediately exploded.
"WOOOOOO!"
"KRAMPUS!"
"LAXUS!"
"START THE MATCHES ALREADY!"
Krampus chuckled softly.
"Good evening once more, ladies, gentlemen, children, guildmates, and everyone watching from Magnolia," he said, his deep voice rolling across the stadium with smooth authority. "The intermission has concluded, the healing pods have done their work, the snack vendors have made unreasonable profits, and the Top 8 battles are now ready to begin."
The stadium erupted again.
Laxus smirked and leaned toward his own lacrima.
"For those who somehow missed the rules, here's how this part works. The eight finalists will fight in four one-on-one battles. The winners will advance to the semifinals. No killing, no permanent maiming, medical barriers stay active, and if you get knocked out, trapped, forced to surrender, or judged unable to continue, you're out."
He paused.
Then grinned wider.
"Simple enough for even Gildarts to understand."
Somewhere in the Fairy Tail booth, Gildarts loudly shouted, "I heard that!"
The audience laughed.
Krampus allowed himself a faint smile before raising one clawed hand.
"For the Top 8 battles, the pairings will not be manually chosen. A random shuffle will reveal who is fighting who. After that, a battlefield roulette will determine the terrain for each match. This means every contestant must adapt not only to their opponent, but also to the environment itself."
Laxus cracked his knuckles.
"Basically, no excuses. If the terrain sucks, deal with it."
On the largest floating screen above the stadium, the portraits of the eight finalists appeared.
Billy Herrington.
Erik.
Logan McGrath.
Erza Scarlet.
Bernard Brunstead.
Adam Champ.
Carlo Masi.
Matthew Rush.
The moment the portraits appeared, the crowd began chanting.
Some chanted names.
Some chanted predictions.
Some just screamed because everyone else was screaming.
Krampus lifted his hand higher.
"Begin the shuffle."
The portraits shot into motion.
On every screen in the stadium and across Magnolia, the eight faces blurred as they spun, crossed, split, and rearranged themselves at impossible speed. Magical drums boomed from the stadium speakers. The light around the screen pulsed brighter with every second.
The audience counted down without being prompted.
"Ten!"
"Nine!"
"Eight!"
"Seven!"
Inside the contestant waiting area, the eight finalists watched silently.
Some looked amused.
Some focused.
Some excited.
Some already had their hands on their weapons.
Billy rolled his shoulders and smiled with easy confidence.
Erik stood quietly, purple eyes narrowed, listening to the sound of the crowd.
Logan folded his arms like a wall given muscles and fur.
Erza stood straight-backed, calm, and intensely focused.
Bernard gave Adam a measured look.
Adam looked back with a polite smile that did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that his mind was already building three different battlefield plans.
Carlo twirled a seed between his fingers.
Matthew tapped out a rhythm against his thigh, sound magic quietly humming through his bones.
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!"
The screen stopped.
For one heartbeat, the entire stadium went silent.
Then the pairings appeared.
First Battle: Billy Herrington vs Erik
Second Battle: Logan McGrath vs Erza Scarlet
Third Battle: Bernard Brunstead vs Adam Champ
Fourth Battle: Carlo Masi vs Matthew Rush
The silence shattered.
The crowd went absolutely insane.
Billy versus Erik immediately drew a massive reaction. Soap and bubble magic against poison. Cleansing against corruption. An experienced Krampus-trained fighter against one of the most terrifying newcomers in the guild.
Logan versus Erza created a different kind of excitement. A huge werewolf lumberjack with brutal close-combat power against the red-haired prodigy who had shocked the entire guild by reaching the Top 8.
Bernard versus Adam sparked immediate tactical debate. A hunter and archer against a constructor who had turned the mountains into a labyrinth during the preliminaries.
Carlo versus Matthew promised chaos. Plants and terrain control against sound waves, rhythm, and explosive shock.
In the commentator booth, Laxus whistled.
"Not bad. First round's already spicy."
Krampus folded his hands in front of him, eyes gleaming with interest.
"Indeed. Each pairing has a clear contrast. Billy and Erik in particular will be a contest of concepts. Soap and poison. Cleaning and contamination."
Laxus nodded, his expression growing a little sharper.
"Erik's strong. Stronger than most people realized before the preliminaries. But Billy's a bad matchup for him."
"He is," Krampus agreed. "But a bad matchup does not mean a hopeless one. Fairy Tail members have a habit of turning terrible odds into memorable performances."
Across the stadium, the audience cheered again.
Krampus turned back to the broadcast.
"Billy Herrington. Erik. Please proceed to standby. Your battlefield will now be selected."
The two contestants stepped forward inside the waiting chamber.
A separate screen appeared above the stadium, displaying several possible battlefield options.
Forest Ruins.
Lava Basin.
Snowy Ridge.
Crystal Cavern.
Open Plains.
Urban Maze.
Rocky Wetland.
Storm Plateau.
The roulette began spinning.
The names blurred together, each one flashing with a different color.
Laxus leaned forward, interested despite himself.
"Come on, give us something messy."
The roulette slowed.
Forest Ruins passed by.
Snowy Ridge passed by.
Urban Maze almost stopped, then slipped away.
Finally, the marker landed.
Rocky Wetland Battlefield.
A new projection appeared.
The terrain was a wide slow-flowing river stretching across a massive flat basin. The water was only around thirty centimeters deep, shallow enough to run through but deep enough to slow footwork and hide traps. Countless rocks of different sizes rose from the water, some only large enough to step on, others broad enough to stand and fight atop.
The entire battlefield looked deceptively simple.
But anyone with experience understood the danger immediately.
Wet footing.
Limited traction.
Endless reflective surfaces.
Water everywhere.
For Billy, it was practically a playground.
For Erik, it was trouble.
Laxus's brows lifted.
"Well, damn."
Krampus hummed.
"That terrain favors Billy's Soap Magic significantly. But water can also carry poison if Erik manages to corrupt it first."
"Assuming Billy lets him."
"Exactly."
The battlefield projection faded.
A teleportation circle opened beneath Billy and Erik.
Billy stretched his neck one last time.
Erik exhaled slowly.
Then both vanished in pillars of light.
A moment later, they appeared in the Rocky Wetland Battlefield.
The stadium screens shifted instantly to follow them.
The audience leaned forward as one.
The battle began.
The wetland was vast enough that the stadium's spatial expansion magic had to stretch to properly contain it. From above, it looked like a silver-blue riverbed scattered with dark rocks, mist, and shallow currents. The water flowed slowly around the contestants' ankles, rippling with every step.
Billy stood on one side of the battlefield, towering, broad, and relaxed.
Erik stood opposite him, smaller but far from fragile.
For a brief moment, neither attacked.
They simply looked at each other.
Billy smiled first.
"Well, ain't this something."
His voice carried easily across the battlefield through the broadcast enchantments.
"Never thought my first Top 8 match would be against one of the new kids."
Erik's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I'm not that new."
Billy chuckled.
"Compared to me, you are."
There was no cruelty in his tone. If anything, he sounded warm. Almost apologetic.
Billy had been part of Fairy Tail for years now. One of Krampus's earlier personal disciples. One of the people who had learned not just magic from the Christmas beast, but philosophy. Discipline. Conceptual extension. Martial arts. The strange, terrifying logic of taking a simple idea and forcing reality to respect it.
Erik had talent. Terrifying talent.
But Billy had age, experience, and polish.
"Don't take it personal, kid," Billy continued, rotating his shoulder as his magic began to rise around him. "I regret I gotta fight against a newcomer like you. No matter how strong you are, this match ain't exactly fair."
Erik's lips tightened.
The words sounded confident.
Almost too confident.
But Billy's following actions told the truth.
He was not underestimating Erik at all.
A white-blue magic circle bloomed beneath Billy's feet. Glossy bubbles rose from the water around him, spinning in slow circles as his magic washed across his body. In a shimmer of light, his Spiritual Equipment appeared over him.
Billy's SE outfit manifested seamlessly over his body.
His combat suit looked almost painted onto him.
A streamlined blue-and-white latex singlet clung tightly to his body, its glossy surface highlighting his powerful build. The design combined opaque sections with transparent panels that revealed the definition of his muscles beneath, giving the outfit a striking, polished look. At his waist, a broad belt shaped like an anchor lock gleamed with pearly light.
And in his hand appeared his SE weapon.
A bubble blowing staff.
At first glance, it looked almost silly. A long staff tipped with a circular ring like a bubble wand, reinforced with runic metal and crystalline soap cores. But nobody who knew Billy would ever laugh at it.
That staff had beaten too many people into the ground.
Billy lowered the ringed end into the shallow river.
The moment it touched the water, the current began to foam.
Not naturally.
Magically.
Thick white bubbles spread outward from his side of the battlefield, multiplying rapidly as if the river itself had become a giant bath. The foam churned and expanded, creeping over rocks, covering ripples, and turning the entire area around Billy into a growing sea of soap water.
At the same time, an almost invisible film spread over Billy's body.
An ultra-thin layer of foam armor.
It clung to his skin and SE outfit without obscuring his movement, forming a protective membrane that constantly refreshed itself. Around his head, a bubble helmet formed, transparent and perfectly sealed.
The message was obvious.
Billy intended to isolate himself completely from Erik's poison.
Then he intended to make the entire wetland full of soap water.
In the commentator booth, Krampus's smile deepened.
"That is the correct response."
Laxus nodded, pride flickering in his eyes despite his support for Erik.
"Billy's not playing around. He talks casual, but he knows exactly how dangerous Erik is."
Krampus folded his arms.
"Good. Confidence without preparation is arrogance. Billy has the former, not the latter."
Across the battlefield, Erik watched the foam spread.
His expression remained calm, but his mind was moving quickly.
So that's how it is.
Billy wasn't bluffing.
He wasn't joking.
He wasn't just trying to intimidate him.
He was sealing himself off, converting the environment, and denying Erik's preferred conditions from the very beginning.
That's bad.
Erik lifted his hand, and dark red-purple magic pulsed from his body.
His own Spiritual Equipment activated.
The transformation spread over him like venom crawling beneath skin.
Erik had grown a lot in the past months. His body had filled out and strengthened under Laxus's Dragon Slayer training and Krampus's body cultivation regimen. For an eleven-year-old, he looked almost absurdly sturdy, already standing at five-foot-six and built like a brickhouse, with thick shoulders, strong arms, and a compact frame that looked made to endure punishment.
His SE outfit only made him look more dangerous.
A thick high-tech belt formed around his waist, glowing with ominous purple runes. Dark red cargo pants wrapped his legs, fused seamlessly with futuristic dark red metallic greaves. Across the pants, greaves, belt, and exposed skin ran neon purple bloodvein patterns, pulsing like toxic circuits beneath a cyberpunk nightmare.
His top was mostly bare, showing a chest and torso already hardened by training, the same purple bloodvein patterns crawling over his skin like living tattoos. A short sleeveless dark red open vest hung over his shoulders, leaving most of his front exposed. Dark red scaled gauntlets formed over his forearms, each clawed finger tipped with small needle-like points.
Overall, Erik looked like a poisonous drug junky gangster from the future with colorful purple tattoos.
It should have looked ridiculous.
Instead, it looked unsettlingly cool.
Then his weapon appeared.
A snakesword.
The handle was cyberpunk-looking, dark red and black with glowing purple grooves. From it extended a flexible segmented blade made not of metal, but of super concentrated crystallized poison. Each sharp segment was purple crystal threaded with blood-red veins, needle-like tips and serrated edges gleaming wickedly under the artificial sun.
The blade flexed and coiled like a living serpent.
More segments could be generated by feeding magic into the handle, extending the sword into a long whip-blade. The segments could also separate into floating daggers, each controlled by Erik's poison magic and killing intent.
But the most lethal part was not the edge.
It was the glitter.
The purple crystals constantly released sparkling purple particles into the air. They looked beautiful, like poisonous stardust, but each speck was a microscopic shard of crystallized toxin. The air around Erik became toxic almost instantly.
The water around his feet darkened.
Purple veins spread through the shallow current.
Small bubbles of corrupted gas rose and popped with faint hisses.
The rocks near him began to stain.
The river itself started becoming poisonous.
But then the spreading stopped.
Between Billy and Erik, the wetland became a battlefield of opposing concepts.
On one side, poison seeped outward.
On the other, soap foam expanded forward.
Where the two met, the water hissed, frothed, and cleared.
Erik's poison could not spread into Billy's area.
Billy's soap kept cleaning it away.
Erik felt it immediately.
His magic was being resisted.
No.
Not merely resisted.
Cleansed.
His jaw tightened.
So that's the difference.
Although Billy was only in his early twenties, he could already be considered an old hand of Krampus's sect.
Not an official sect, obviously.
Fairy Tail did not have sects.
But everyone knew what the phrase meant.
It referred to those who had truly received Krampus's deeper teachings. Not just body cultivation. Not just martial arts. Not just fancy runes or useful tools. The real teaching was conceptual magic: the ability to take the core meaning of one's own magic and expand it beyond technique.
Billy had done exactly that.
Soap Magic was not only bubbles, foam, and slippery tricks.
Soap cleaned.
Soap washed away.
Soap purified.
Soap separated filth from what was meant to remain.
Through Krampus's guidance, Billy had blended the concept of cleaning into his magic. His Soap Magic now carried an attribute of cleansing that was far above Erik's own poison concept in maturity and stability.
Erik's poison had become broad and eerie.
But Billy's cleaning was deeper.
Older.
Better refined.
A bad matchup.
A very bad matchup.
Erik's fingers tightened around his sword handle.
I'm probably not gonna win.
That thought passed through his mind clearly.
He did not deny it.
Billy was an S-Class candidate. One of the strongest younger adults in the guild. Tall, burly, hulking, experienced, and trained by Krampus for years. His magic was conceptually advantaged, his body was stronger, his technique was sharper, and the battlefield favored him.
Usually, in a situation where the enemy's magic was advantageous, Erik had been taught to rely on his body.
Big brother Laxus had drilled that lesson into him again and again.
"If your magic gets countered, punch harder. If punching doesn't work, kick harder. If that doesn't work, use your head. Literally if needed."
Boss Krampus had said something similar, though with more philosophy and more profanity.
"Magic is one weapon. Your body is another. Your will is the third. If the first gets suppressed, draw the second. If the second fails, sharpen the third."
So Erik had trained.
Dragon Slayer physique.
Martial arts.
Swordsmanship.
Whip arts.
Footwork.
Breathing.
Pain tolerance.
Against many enemies, that would be enough to power through.
But as Erik stared at Billy's towering figure, at the way the man's muscles shifted beneath glossy armor, at the ease with which he stood in the water like a battleship made of soap and confidence, Erik knew the truth.
His level of physical refinement was far below Billy.
Not just raw strength.
But the sharpness of technique, the efficiency of movement, and the completeness of his fighting body.
Billy's magic knew exactly what it was.
Erik's was still growing.
But even so...
Erik's expression hardened.
He raised his snakesword.
I don't wanna give up.
The thought settled inside him like a stone.
Even if I'm going down, I'm gonna go down fighting.
He took one step forward.
Then another.
His magic rose.
Purple glitter thickened in the air around him, swirling like a toxic galaxy.
Across the wetland, Billy saw the change.
The hesitation vanished from Erik's face.
The boy knew the odds.
He knew he was disadvantaged.
He knew Billy was stronger.
And he still chose to fight.
Billy's smile softened.
That's right.
His grip tightened around his staff.
A Fairy Tail member should have guts like this.
Billy had no intention of mocking that resolve.
No intention of casually crushing it.
If anything, seeing Erik's determination made him want to show proper respect.
The best way to honor a younger guildmate was not to pity him.
It was to fight him seriously.
Billy rolled his shoulders, planted his staff deeper into the water, and let his magic surge.
"Alright then, Erik."
His voice boomed across the wetland.
"Show me what you've got."
Erik's eyes sharpened.
"I was going to anyway."
Billy laughed.
Then attacked.
The water on Billy's side exploded upward.
A massive soap tsunami rose from the shallow river, absurdly huge compared to the actual depth of the water. It was a towering rolling wall of white foam, blue-white light gleaming within its churning body as it surged toward Erik with overwhelming pressure.
The crowd screamed.
Not in fear.
In excitement.
From the commentator booth, Laxus leaned forward.
"That's a big opener."
Krampus nodded.
"A cleansing wave. If that hits directly, Erik's poison coating will be stripped away immediately."
On the battlefield, Erik moved.
He swung his snakesword with both hands, feeding magic into the handle as the segmented blade extended violently. The whip-like sword lashed upward, purple crystals flashing as it carved through the oncoming foam.
"Poison Dragon's Cleaving Fang!"
The sword tore the soap tsunami in half.
For an instant, the giant wave split around Erik like a curtain.
But Billy was already watching.
The sword extended through the opening, its segmented body twisting in the air as it struck toward him like a serpent. At the same time, several blade segments detached, becoming floating dagger-like shards that shot around from difficult angles.
One came low.
One came high.
Two curved around from behind.
Another skimmed along the water surface, hidden beneath foam.
Billy's eyes gleamed.
"Nice."
He spun his staff.
The ringed end caught the main snakesword strike with a clear metallic-ceramic clang. Even though the blade was crystalized poison, Billy's staff did not corrode. Bubbles burst across the impact point, washing away the toxic residue before it could settle.
Billy shifted his weight, slapped aside a dagger segment with the lower half of the staff, then released a sharp bubble blast from the ring.
Pop.
The bubble struck one of the flying segments and burst into cleansing foam, knocking it off-course while dissolving the poison glitter surrounding it.
Another dagger came from behind.
Billy ducked.
The dagger skimmed over his shoulder.
He thrust his palm backward and fired a cluster of small bubbles that burst into strings of sticky foam, catching the dagger mid-flight.
Erik clicked his tongue and pulled.
The trapped segment shattered, then regenerated near his sword with fresh poison magic.
Good reaction speed.
Erik dashed across the rocks, moving low and fast.
His boots barely splashed.
Laxus's martial training showed in every step. Erik was not just swinging wildly. He used the rocks to alter angles, the shallow water to mask footwork, and his floating dagger segments to pressure Billy's blind spots.
Billy met him steadily.
Staff against snakesword.
Foam against poison.
Cleansing bursts against toxic glitter.
Each exchange sent white and purple light flashing across the wetland.
The first minute became a storm of rapid attacks.
Erik lashed his sword in unpredictable arcs, its segments extending and contracting like a living whip. Sometimes the blade stayed whole, striking as one flexible weapon. Sometimes it split apart into a swarm of floating daggers, each trying to slip past Billy's defenses and deliver even a shallow cut.
Billy parried them all.
Not easily.
But cleanly.
His staff moved with smooth efficiency, backed by martial arts discipline and a dancer's rhythm. He never overcommitted. Never panicked. Never let poison touch his skin. Whenever purple glitter thickened, a pulse of bubbles washed it away. Whenever toxic water tried to spread, his foam swallowed it.
The crowd loved it.
Every clash drew cheers.
Every time Erik forced Billy to retreat a step, the younger members of Fairy Tail screamed in support.
Every time Billy casually erased a dangerous poison attack with soap foam, the older members roared.
In Magnolia, children watching from the plaza began waving sticks around like snakeswords while others blew bubbles into the air and pretended to be Billy.
Inside the battlefield, Erik's breathing grew heavier.
Billy's defense was serious.
That much was clear.
The man was not treating him like a joke.
But Erik noticed something else.
Billy wasn't actively attacking.
Not really.
The opening tsunami had been big and flashy, but since then Billy had mostly defended, countered, and neutralized. His movements were sharp, but restrained. He was giving Erik space to move. Giving him time to show his weapon. Giving the audience a chance to understand what he could do.
Erik's jaw tightened.
He's letting me showcase myself.
The realization annoyed him more than he expected.
He knew Billy meant well.
He could feel the respect behind it.
But that was not what he wanted.
He did not enter the Top 8 to be displayed like a promising junior.
He wanted to fight.
Properly.
Seriously.
Even if he lost.
Especially if he lost.
Erik drew his sword back and launched three dagger segments toward Billy's face. Billy deflected them with a casual staff spin and a burst of foam.
Erik used the moment to leap backward, landing on a large rock several meters away.
"Billy."
Billy paused.
"Yeah?"
Erik's eyes narrowed.
"Don't drag this out for my sake."
The wetland grew quieter.
Billy's brows lifted slightly.
Erik continued, voice firm.
"I know you're stronger. I know your magic counters mine. I know I'm probably not winning this. But don't fight me like you're helping me perform."
A few bubbles drifted silently between them.
Erik raised his snakesword, purple magic swelling.
"If I'm going down, I want to go down because you beat me properly."
For a moment, Billy said nothing.
Then his smile returned.
This time, it was sharper.
"Fair enough."
In the commentator booth, Laxus grinned proudly.
"That's my little bro."
Krampus's eyes softened with approval.
"Excellent spirit."
Billy planted his staff in the water and lowered his stance.
"Then come at me with everything."
Erik inhaled.
The air around him darkened.
His magic condensed violently into the cyberpunk handle of his snakesword. The purple crystal segments trembled, glowing brighter as blood-red veins pulsed through them. Toxic glitter stopped drifting randomly and began spiraling inward, gathering around the blade like a storm.
Billy felt the change immediately.
So did Krampus.
"He's preparing an ultimate spell," Krampus said.
Laxus's grin faded into focus.
"All his magic?"
"Most likely."
On the battlefield, Erik did not rush.
He fired a few more potshots first.
Three dagger segments launched toward Billy's legs.
Another curved toward his helmet.
A thin toxic slash skated across the water, trying to corrupt the foam layer near Billy's feet.
Billy erased them all, but the attacks bought Erik several more seconds.
Enough.
Erik jumped back again, putting distance between them. His boots splashed across the shallow river as he landed on a flat rock near the center of his poisoned territory.
His face was pale from the amount of magic he was gathering.
But his eyes remained fierce.
"Billy!"
Billy raised his staff.
Erik lifted his snakesword with both hands.
"Take my last move!"
A massive ominous red-purple magic circle appeared in front of Erik.
The air groaned.
The water beneath him hissed and boiled.
The magic circle spun once, then locked into place like an execution gate.
Erik thrust his snakesword forward with all his remaining magic.
"Viral Ray Lancer!"
The blade plunged into the magic circle.
Instantly, the solid crystallized toxin of the sword converted into toxic plasma.
The reaction was violent.
Purple-red energy erupted forward in a straight line, expanding exponentially as it became a super toxic energy laser beam shaped like a lance. The beam screamed across the wetland, corroding everything in its path. Rocks dissolved. Water vaporized into poisonous mist. Foam burned away where the outer edges grazed it.
The attack was terrifying.
It was not merely poison.
It was poison accelerated into energy.
A viral lance of toxic plasma.
The audience went wild.
Some screamed.
Some cheered.
Some simply stared with open mouths.
In the commentator booth, Laxus's eyes widened with pride.
"Damn, Erik."
Krampus's halo glowed brighter.
"Impressive. The conversion of crystallized poison into plasma-based toxin is crude but powerful. He compressed his entire offensive concept into one direct-line attack."
Laxus glanced at him.
"Can Billy take it?"
Krampus smiled.
"Watch."
On the battlefield, Billy's grin widened.
Fighting spirit surged through him.
There it is.
That was the kind of attack he had wanted to see from Erik.
Desperate.
Bold.
Dangerous.
All or nothing.
Billy raised his bubble blowing staff and aimed the ring directly at the oncoming ray.
A huge blue-white magic circle opened in front of him.
The circle spun in the opposite direction of Erik's, its runes clean, bright, and almost comically gentle compared to the toxic menace flying toward it.
Billy inhaled deeply.
Then shouted.
"Foam Bath Geyser!"
The river beneath Billy exploded.
A huge deluge of white foam shot out from the magic circle at a speed even faster than the toxic laser. It roared forward like a pressurized bathhouse volcano, dense and radiant, carrying the full cleansing attribute of Billy's Soap Magic.
The two attacks collided.
Purple-red poison plasma met blue-white cleansing foam.
For one moment, the wetland split into two colors.
The impact sent shockwaves across the shallow river, throwing water, bubbles, and toxic mist into the air. The barrier around the battlefield flashed as it filtered out dangerous residue before it could reach the spectators.
Erik pushed with everything he had.
His arms trembled.
His teeth clenched.
The Viral Ray Lancer drilled forward inch by inch, trying to pierce through the foam.
Billy stood firm.
His staff did not move.
His muscles tightened.
His magic surged.
"Come on, kid," Billy muttered, not mockingly but with genuine respect. "Show me all of it."
Erik roared and poured the last of his magic into the spell.
The beam brightened.
For a single heartbeat, it looked like it might punch through.
Then Billy's magic answered.
The foam grew brighter.
Cleaner.
Denser.
The white deluge swallowed the purple-red laser.
Not blocked.
Not deflected.
Washed.
The toxic plasma broke apart inside the foam, its poison particles stripped, neutralized, dissolved, and purified until nothing remained but harmless steam and a faint medicinal smell.
Erik's eyes widened.
The Foam Bath Geyser reached him.
He barely dodged.
With the last bit of strength in his legs, Erik threw himself sideways, rolling across a rock as the massive foam torrent blasted past him and carved a clean white path through his poisoned territory.
He landed hard in the shallow water, coughing.
For one second, he actually allowed himself to feel relieved.
He had dodged.
Barely, but he had dodged.
He forced a weak laugh.
"Soap Magic's cleansing attribute is simply too cheating for me..."
Then he heard Billy's voice.
"Bath Bomb Wash Vortex."
Erik's eyes snapped open.
A beach ball-sized bubble was already flying toward him.
It looked harmless.
That was the worst part.
Inside the transparent sphere, twisting foam churned violently like a miniature storm. The bubble spun as it moved, drawing in nearby water and leftover soap residue.
Erik tried to lift his sword.
Nothing happened.
His magic was nearly empty.
His body was slow.
His legs refused to push off properly.
The bubble reached him.
Then expanded.
Rapidly.
In an instant, it became a giant sphere of churning foam that swallowed Erik whole.
From the outside, the image was ridiculous.
Erik looked like a piece of clothing thrown into a washing machine.
His body spun inside the bubble in an omnidirectional way, flipping sideways, upside down, backward, forward, and somehow all directions at once. His limbs flailed helplessly as foam battered him from every angle, washing away poison, draining residual magic, and scrubbing him with merciless thoroughness.
The audience froze for half a second.
Then burst into laughter and cheers.
Inside the sphere, Erik's thoughts became a dizzy spiral.
Up is down.
Down is left.
Left smells like lavender.
Why does it smell like lavender?
Is this jasmine?
Boss Krampus, why did you let him make this spell?
Big brother Laxus, I regret everything.
The spinning continued.
Billy rested his staff over one shoulder and watched calmly.
The vortex was not cruel.
It was not damaging.
But it was incredibly effective.
It stripped away poison residue, disrupted Erik's breathing rhythm, drained his remaining magic, and overwhelmed his sense of balance. Against someone already exhausted from an ultimate attack, it was a perfect finishing move.
Finally, the giant sphere burst.
A deluge of foam splashed across the wetland.
Erik dropped into the shallow river with a soft splash, lying flat on his back in a pool of soapy water.
He was completely knocked out.
Drained of all strength.
Drained of all magic.
And cleaner than he had ever been in his entire life.
A faint scent of lavender and jasmine drifted from him.
For a moment, the battlefield was silent.
Then the medical detection lacrima flashed.
Erik unable to continue.
The crowd exploded.
"WOOOOOOOO!"
"BILLY WINS!"
"THAT WAS AMAZING!"
"HE GOT LAUNDERED!"
In the commentator booth, Laxus covered his face with one hand.
He was laughing.
He tried not to.
Failed immediately.
"My little bro just got turned into laundry."
Krampus, meanwhile, raised the broadcast crystal with admirable professionalism despite the obvious amusement tugging at his mouth.
"Winner of the first Top 8 battle: Billy Herrington!"
The screens flashed with Billy's portrait.
The stadium shook with applause.
Billy walked over to Erik first.
Before posing, before celebrating, before acknowledging the crowd, he crouched and checked on the boy.
"Good fight, kid."
Erik did not respond, because he was unconscious and smelled like expensive bath products.
Billy chuckled.
"You've got guts. Keep training."
The medical teleportation circle activated beneath Erik, sending him safely to the healing pods.
Only then did Billy turn toward the nearest broadcast lacrima.
The crowd cheered louder.
Billy grinned.
Then posed.
He planted his staff against one shoulder, twisted his torso, flexed his arm, and gave the camera a confident wink.
Unfortunately, the camera angle chosen by the automatic broadcast lacrima was terrible.
Or excellent.
Depending on who was asked.
Because from that angle, the resulting image looked less like a heroic victory pose and more like an erotic shot of Billy's shiny latex-covered bubble butt as the centerpiece.
The entire stadium went silent for half a second.
Then a wave of noise hit so hard the broadcast lacrimas crackled.
Some people cheered.
Some screamed.
Several women fainted.
Several men pretended not to stare and failed completely.
Inside the Fairy Tail booth, the eliminated members howled with laughter.
Cana nearly fell out of her chair.
Ultear covered her mouth, face red.
Gildarts spat his drink across the table.
Makarov quietly turned away and muttered something about youth being dangerous.
In the commentator booth, Laxus stared at the screen.
Then slowly looked at Krampus.
Krampus stared back.
His golden eyes narrowed at the broadcast monitor.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he spoke very softly.
"...Should this footage still be aired?"
Laxus burst out laughing.
The first Top 8 battle had ended.
Billy Herrington advanced to the semifinals.
Erik had lost, but not without showing the entire city exactly why he had reached the Top 8.
And as the crowd continued roaring, laughing, cheering, and possibly questioning their own preferences, Fairy Tail's first official tournament match concluded in the most Fairy Tail way possible.
With power.
With respect.
With absurd spectacle.
And with a camera angle that would haunt Sorcery Magazine for weeks.