Chapter 18: Weapons Forged in Secrecy
The corridor outside Phantom Lord's library stretched long and unnervingly narrow, built less like a normal hallway and more like a controlled passage separating the guild's chaos from the silence of its archives.
The walls were made from massive blocks of dark stone, rough and uneven in texture, nearly black beneath the dim lighting.
Years of age and neglect had carved shallow cracks into the surface, while scattered gouges and scratches hinted at old fights and careless destruction.
Exposed pipes and arcane conduits crawled across the walls and ceiling in tangled, industrial patterns, vanishing into reinforced panels and ventilation shafts overhead.
The lighting was poor by design.
Only a few dim lamps hung from blackened chains overhead, each deliberately spaced far apart. Their pale, sickly glow barely reached the floor, leaving much of the corridor drowned in shadow.
Weak light reflected faintly against exposed metal and wet stone, producing dull glints that disappeared almost instantly.
Every so often, one of the lamps flickered.
And when it did, the shadows shifted unnaturally across the walls, as if something hidden was moving just beyond sight.
The floor was made of dark stone tiles reinforced with iron plating near the library entrance.
Time had worn parts of the stone smooth beneath countless footsteps, while the metal sections were scarred with dents, scratches, and old scorch marks left behind by reckless mages.
Several support beams had been violently torn from the walls.
Now they hung crookedly from broken mountings, while the detached pieces lay scattered across the flooded floor in twisted heaps of iron and snapped bolts.
Above them, exposed conduits sparked faintly, occasionally casting brief flashes of blue light through the darkness.
Water covered the floor entirely.
Not deep enough to swim through, but high enough to reach the knees of a child.
Amid the wreckage lay a boy beside a shattered section of wall.
One of his arms bled steadily, though the wound had been roughly wrapped with strips of torn cloth.
His hair was long, thick, and sharply spiked, reaching down to his upper back. Most of it was slicked backward, though several loose strands hung beside his face, partially covering his ears and softening the harshness of his outline.
His eyes were an unnatural crimson, slit pupils giving him an intense, almost inhuman stare.
He had no visible eyebrows.
Instead, metal studs decorated his face and body, giving him a cold, industrial appearance.
Three studs rested above each eye like artificial brows, while two more lined either side of his nose.
Another pair sat beneath his lower lip.
His ears were heavily pierced, each carrying multiple sets of earrings. Across his exposed skin, dark flame-like markings curled upward from his forearms.
Floating effortlessly in front of him was a girl.
She was tall for her age, with a slender frame that still carried a slight awkwardness to it.
Her midnight-blue hair was thick and gently wavy, tied into high pigtails with pale blue ribbons.
Soft, uneven bangs framed her face, making her appear younger and gentler than the seriousness in her expression suggested.
Her eyes were a vivid azure blue, large, calm, and strangely distant.
Combined with her snow-white complexion, she almost resembled a porcelain doll.
Her clothing was casual and slightly oversized. A varsity-style jacket hung loosely from her shoulders, deep navy with silver-white sleeves.
The cuffs and collar were lined with faded light-blue stripes worn down from repeated use.
Dark gray shorts rested just above her knees, while chunky navy sneakers with white soles grounded her appearance.
Small snowflake-shaped earrings shimmered faintly beside her face.
Clutched tightly in her arms was a plush seal colored soft gray, white, and pale blue—a quiet comfort object against the cold atmosphere surrounding her.
"The master has spoken about you several times," the girl, Juvia Greywater, said with hollow calm. "From what I understand, he holds your strength in very high regard."
"You mean José, right?" the boy, Gajeel Lionheart, replied.
"He's the kind of person who values strength above everything else." His red eyes narrowed slightly. "That's why Phantom Lord turned out the way it did."
"…There was something else he mentioned," Juvia continued. "Rumor says you're searching for a dragon with metal iron scales."
"You mean Metalicana." Gajeel's expression sharpened further.
"Yeah. I'm looking for him." His voice lowered slightly. "He was basically my old man."
"What do you know about him?"
Juvia slowly raised both hands in surrender. "Nothing," she admitted honestly. "Truthfully… I don't even believe dragons exist."
She lowered her hands again. "But there is something I'm searching for. Something very personal to me."
Her blue eyes met his. "I was thinking… Perhaps the two of us could help each other."
"Oh… so that's what this was." A subtle smile crossed Gajeel's face.
"You only acted like you didn't want to fight." He leaned back slightly against the ruined wall. "But really, you were showing off your power so I'd acknowledge your strength."
A rough chuckle escaped him. "That's pretty clever." He shrugged, clearly not offended.
"But it worked. You've got my respect, Juvia."
"I'm grateful," Juvia replied, showing a small but genuine smile.
Then her expression became serious again. "But allow me to ask you directly…"
"Have you ever heard of the Ebonveil Clan?"
'Ebonveil…? Why does that sound familiar?' Gajeel thought for a moment.
Then a memory surfaced.
[My name is Albion Ebonveil. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.]
'Oh, right… that's Albion's last name.'
"Never heard of them," Gajeel replied. "Am I supposed to?"
Juvia shook her head lightly. "No. I'm not surprised you don't know them." Her expression remained calm. "Allow me to explain."
'The Ebonveil Clan is an ancient and merciless bloodline. They rule over a hidden shinobi village somewhere within this country."
"Shinobi?" Gajeel raised an eyebrow. "So… like soldiers or something?"
"Not exactly." Juvia shook her head again. "Shinobi are not soldiers who serve kingdoms, nor are they protectors of innocent people."
Her voice became quieter. "They are weapons forged in secrecy."
"Their value is not measured through honor or recognition… but through lethality. Through results."
"Results from what?"
"Many things," Juvia answered. "Assassinations. Espionage. Sabotage."
Gajeel frowned slightly. "So they're basically criminals."
"In a way… yes." Juvia gave a small nod.
"I see…" Gajeel nodded slowly as well before pausing. "Wait. Aren't they just ninjas?"
Juvia stared at him for a second. "That is an incredibly childish way of describing them…"
A small sigh escaped her. "But yes. They are essentially ninjas."
"So what's the big deal?" Gajeel shrugged. "I'm not scared of some stupid ninjas."
While Gajeel understood what assassination meant, he didn't really care.
He had never killed anyone before. Not because he lacked the ability, but because it simply wasn't who he was.
There was a difference between fighting to survive… and fighting because you enjoyed the challenge.
Juvia slowly raised both hands. The water flooding the corridor began to rise with her movement.
"Well… allow me to show you something."
The water twisted upward before taking shape.
A circular crest formed in the air.
Inside it rested three identical circles arranged in a triangular formation—one at the top, two beneath it.
All three connected at the center.
Around them sat a thick outer ring that curved inward between each circle, creating three sharp triangular gaps pointing toward the middle.
Every angle was perfectly even, perfectly symmetrical.
"This," Juvia said quietly, "is the Ebonveil Clan crest."
Gajeel's expression changed immediately. "…Wait."
"You're telling me—"
"Yes." Juvia lowered one hand before pointing toward the left side of her neck. There, stamped against her pale skin, was Phantom Lord's guild mark.
A deep indigo-blue symbol.
At the top sat a solid circular core held between two upward-curving crescent shapes that ended in sharp points.
Beneath it, two jagged triangular spikes flared downward, while the bottom extended into a thick spiral-like tail that curled inward before tapering into a detached fragment.
"Just like every guild member bears a guild mark…" Juvia said, "…the Ebonveil Clan possesses their own crest as well."
"But that doesn't make sense." Gajeel frowned deeply.
His hand moved toward his own guild mark on the upper part of his shoulder, a dark metallic black-gray insignia.
"If they've got marks like that… then that means they're organized like a guild."
Guild marks were more than decorations.
Every guild possessed its own insignia, a crest tied directly to its name and identity. Most magic guilds branded those marks somewhere onto the bodies of their members.
They acted as identification, proof of legitimacy.
Proof that someone belonged somewhere.
After all, a person was not officially recognized as a wizard until they joined a guild.
"But criminals can't just make guilds," Gajeel continued. "Nobody would allow that."
"To that…" Juvia hesitated slightly.."I don't know."
The water crest dissolved slowly back into the flooded floor.
"I don't know how they possess marks… or why they were even allowed to exist in the first place."
Her gaze lowered slightly. "I simply know that they do."
Gajeel nodded slightly before rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if the Council knows about this…"
"The Council?" Juvia looked up, her azure-blue eyes meeting Gajeel's crimson stare.
"You're telling me you don't know?" A smug grin slowly stretched across Gajeel's face. "Geez. Read a book, your stupid is showing."
"Yeah, yeah." Juvia pouted slightly. "Just shut up and explain it already."
Gajeel let out a short chuckle before speaking.
"Heh. The Magic Council is basically the group sitting at the top of the entire magic world."
"A bunch of old geezers, politicians, and powerful mages deciding what's allowed and what isn't."
"They watch over all the guilds, make sure nobody steps too far outta line, and whenever some idiot mage causes trouble, they're the ones cleaning up the mess afterward."
"If a mage breaks the law, the Council's got full authority to punish them however they see fit."
There was a noticeable amount of pride in his tone.
For once, Juvia was the confused one.
"They basically act like the rulers of the magic world," Gajeel continued. "Half politicians, half mages."
"And strength doesn't matter much if they decide you're dangerous. Once the Council marks you as a problem…"
His grin sharpened slightly. "They come after you."
"I see…" Juvia nodded slowly in understanding. "Thank you for the explanation."
"Your master seriously never told you any of this?" Gajeel asked curiously.
"Master?" Juvia blinked once. "I never had one."
"After I underwent an Awakening, I simply learned my innate magic naturally."
"You see, Gajeel…" She raised one of her hands slightly. "My magic is a specialized form of Water Magic."
"It doesn't create water from nothing."
Moisture from the flooded corridor began gathering around her fingertips.
"It pulls moisture from the air, surrounding surfaces, plants, and the environment itself… condensing it into liquid form before manipulating it as water."
The droplets slowly rotated around her hand.
"So while it appears as though I'm creating water…"
The water spiraled once more before falling back into the flooded floor.
"I'm actually harvesting and concentrating the moisture already around me."
Her explanation caused something unpleasant to stir within Gajeel's mind.
Old memories resurfaced. Memories he would have rather left buried.
[With me as your teacher, and with you inheriting my magic… there's no doubt you'll become one of the strongest wizards of your generation.]
His mood noticeably soured.
The relaxed amusement faded from his expression, replaced by the familiar aggressive bravado he defaulted to whenever something bothered him.
"I've got a few questions of my own," Gajeel said abruptly. "And since I answered yours…"
His sharp red eyes locked onto her. "It's only fair if you answer mine too."
Juvia had no reason to refuse, so she simply nodded.
"First off," Gajeel said, his tone sharpening, "I wanna know how exactly you know so much about this ninja clan."
"Earlier, you made it sound like me not knowing anything about them wasn't surprising. But here you are, giving me a full overview on them."
His red eyes narrowed slightly.
"Make me think otherwise, Juvia."
Juvia looked away for a moment.
"…Sorry, but I can't tell you that."
"What do you mean, can't?"
Her gaze returned to his. This time, there was something deeper in it.
"Sorry… I meant I won't tell you. I always mix those two up."
Gajeel stared at her for a few seconds, then clicked his teeth. "Tch. Fine. Next question."
"I want you to tell me how you underwent your Ethernal Awakening. Don't leave anything out."
Ethernal Awakening was the moment a person's magic first manifests.
At that instant, the nature of their power is etched directly into their mind: its behavior, its limitations, and its most basic form of use.
It becomes Innate Magic..A singular ability, engraved into the body from birth.
While every mage possesses only one, its shape is influenced by personality, mental state, and lived experience.
Gajeel knew this much already, but he had never experienced it himself.
Unlike Juvia.
He had been forced to train everything from scratch—his body, his mind, his understanding—building his Iron Dragon Slayer Magic through effort rather than instinct.
What he didn't understand was what actually triggered an Awakening.
Whether Metalicana, his foster father, even knew the answer… he didn't know.
"I'm afraid… I won't tell you that either," Juvia said quietly. "It's personal. And besides… we've only just met. Do you really expect me to share my entire life story?"
"So I answer all your questions," Gajeel said, frustration rising, "and the moment I ask one of mine, you shut down?"
"Please understand…" Juvia bowed her head slightly.
Gajeel exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down. "Fine."
"But since you're dodging those answers… then answer this instead."
At that moment, Albion's appearance flashed through his mind. "If there's someone in this guild with the last name Ebonveil…"
His eyes sharpened. "…what would you do to them?"
"...."
Juvia didn't respond immediately.
The silence was so long, in fact, that Gajeel almost thought she hadn't heard him.
"…That's strange," she finally said. Her voice had changed.
It became heavier and more focused. "I never asked you that."
She slowly drifted backward through the water, as if putting distance between them without even realizing it.
"What are you talking about?" Gajeel frowned. "You just—"
"I remember exactly what I asked," Juvia interrupted. Her calm tone now carried weight.
"I asked if you had ever heard of the Ebonveil clan."
"Not whether someone with that name is in this guild."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "…Which means you lied earlier."
'Carp. I messed up.'
Juvia raised one hand. Small droplets of water lifted from the flooded floor, hovering beside her fingers.
The moisture trembled, then began to compress under immense pressure.
"So tell me, Gajeel," she said quietly. Her gaze locked onto him.
"Because your answer will decide what I do next."
The air in the corridor shifted. Juvia Greywater's azure eyes were no longer calm.
They were steady and cold. Yet filled with a quiet, controlled hatred.
"Do you… or do you not know someone with the last name Ebonveil?"
Creator note.
Tomorrow's my birthday, so I won't really be working on the story much. At most, I might do a small draft, but aside from that, I'm taking the day to relax.
Also, below is a link to the redesigned visuals for Albion, Juvia, Gajeel, and White. I ended up changing the art style a bit, and honestly, I think this newer style fits the atmosphere and tone of the story a lot better. This will most likely be the art style I stick with moving forward.
[Chapter Visuals]
Remove spaces:
imgur . com / gallery / f4pFzxX