Chapter 62: The Blade and the Bond
Twenty-seven minutes.
The number echoed in Org's mind as he stared at the communication lacrima, watching the countdown timer tick relentlessly downward. Twenty-six minutes now. Twenty-five.
"We may have made a mistake," Org said quietly, his voice carrying across the council chamber. "Firing Etherion... this is not a decision to be made lightly. The lives at stake..."
Michello slammed his fist on the table, his small frame trembling with conviction. "Mistake or not, we must take full responsibility! That is our duty! Maintaining order in the Magic World means making impossible choices! We absolutely MUST NOT allow Zeref to be revived!"
Org looked at him, at the fire in his eyes, and nodded slowly. "You're right. Of course you're right. But that doesn't make it easier."
"Nothing about this job is easy," Michello replied. "That's why they pay us the big jewel."
A weak attempt at humor, but it landed. A few council members even smiled. The tension in the room eased, just slightly.
Twenty-four minutes.
---
In a shadowed corridor far from the council chamber, two figures stood facing each other. Jellal's projection, Siegrain, and the woman in purple who had cast the deciding vote.
Ultear.
Jellal studied her with those cold, calculating eyes, searching for any sign of weakness, any flicker of doubt. He found none. She stood before him like a blade waiting to be wielded, sharp and patient and utterly still.
"You voted with me," Jellal said. "Why?"
Ultear's lips curved into that same enigmatic smile. "Because I believe in your vision. Because the resurrection of Zeref serves my purposes as well as yours. Does it matter why, as long as we stand on the same side?"
Jellal was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"No. I suppose it doesn't matter." He paused, something shifting in his expression. "But know this, Ultear. If Etherion fails, if the tower survives, if Erza escapes... we will all die. The council will hunt us. The kingdom will hunt us. Fairy Tail will hunt us. There will be nowhere to hide."
Ultear's smile never wavered. "Then we must ensure Etherion does not fail."
Behind a stone pillar, hidden in shadow, Yajima pressed himself against the cold wall and held his breath.
'Etherion failing? They're planning for it to fail? Or... no. They WANT it to fire. They're counting on it. But why?'
He didn't have the answer. But he knew, with the certainty of a man who had spent decades reading lies and truths in equal measure, that something was very, very wrong.
---
In the throne room at the top of the tower, Jellal's fingers moved across the chess board. They passed over Millianna's fallen piece. Wally's. Simon's. Fukuro's.
He picked up Fukuro's piece. Examined it. Then, with a soft sigh, he knocked it over.
"Fukuro," he murmured. "Defeated. Consumed by the very fire he sought to steal. A fitting end, I suppose."
He looked at the remaining pieces. Sho. Ikaruga. Vidaldus. Erza. The Fairy Tail mages.
And one piece that should have fallen but somehow still stood. The pink-haired dragon. Natsu Dragneel.
"You continue to surprise me," Jellal said to the empty room. "But it doesn't matter. The game is nearly over."
He looked toward the window, toward the sky where Etherion's power was gathering.
"And now, it is time to say goodbye to Siegrain."
---
Sho ran through the corridors of the tower, his feet pounding against the stone, his heart hammering in his chest. In his hand, he clutched a single card. Trapped within its surface, a tiny image of Erza moved desperately, pounding against the invisible walls of her prison.
"Let me out, Sho!" Erza's voice came from the card, muffled but clear. "Please! I can help you! I can fight with you!"
Sho shook his head, his blond hair flying, the diamond earring catching what little light there was. "No, nee-san. I won't let you. Jellal wants you for his ceremony. If he can't have you, he can't complete it. I'm protecting you. I'm finally protecting you like I couldn't all those years ago."
"Sho, listen to me..."
"NO! You listen! I spent eight years believing you betrayed us. Eight years hating you for leaving. And now I know the truth. Jellal lied. He used us. He made us into monsters. But I won't let him use YOU. Not ever again."
He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt.
She stood in the center of the corridor, blocking his path. Long dark hair fell past her waist, straight and perfect as a blade. Her eyes, narrow and cold, held the promise of death. Traditional samurai armor covered her body, modified for maximum mobility, every plate polished to a mirror shine. At her hip rested a katana so sharp it seemed to drink the light around it, the blade singing a silent song of slaughter.
Ikaruga.
Sho's blood ran cold. "Move," he said, his voice steadier than he felt. "I don't want to fight you."
Ikaruga smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.
"You don't have a choice, little boy."
Sho attacked.
His cards flew from his hands, a storm of paper and magic, each one sharp as a razor, fast as thought. They shot toward Ikaruga from every angle, a hundred deadly projectiles that should have been impossible to dodge.
Ikaruga didn't dodge.
She moved. Just slightly. A fraction of an inch here, a hair's breadth there. The cards shot past her, missing by millimeters, by less, by nothing at all. She walked through the storm untouched, her sword still sheathed, her eyes never leaving Sho.
"Is that all?" she asked.
Sho's eyes widened. He sent more cards, faster this time, more furious. She moved through them like water through rocks, impossible to catch, impossible to touch.
"Sho, RUN!" Erza screamed from the card. "You can't beat her! She's too fast! Too skilled! Just run!"
"I won't leave you!"
Ikaruga's hand moved.
Sho didn't see the blade leave its sheath. He didn't see the arc of its flight. He only saw the aftermath: his cards, every single one, sliced in half, fluttering to the floor like wounded birds.
And then she was in front of him.
Her sword rose. Fell.
Sho screamed and threw up his hands, expecting death.
The blade stopped an inch from his face.
Ikaruga looked at him with those cold, dead eyes. "Move aside, boy. I'm not here for you."
"I won't let you hurt her!"
"Hurt her?" Ikaruga's smile widened. "I'm going to KILL her. There's a difference."
Her blade shifted direction. Shot forward. Not at Sho, but at the card in his hand.
The tip pierced the paper.
Inside the card, Erza felt the impossible happen. Space ripped. Reality tore. The prison that had held her shattered, and she was falling, falling, falling into the cold air of the corridor.
She landed on her feet, sword already in hand, Heart Kreuz Armor gleaming in the dim light.
Ikaruga withdrew her blade and stepped back, examining her with genuine interest.
"So. The famous Titania. You look smaller in person."
Erza ignored her, turning to Sho. "Get out of here. Find Simon. Find my friends. Get them out of the tower."
"Nee-san, I can fight..."
"NO!" Erza's voice cracked like a whip. "This is not your fight anymore. This is between me and Jellal. And this woman. Go. NOW."
Sho hesitated, then nodded. He turned and ran, disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.
Erza faced Ikaruga.
"Move aside," Erza said. "I have no quarrel with you. My fight is with Jellal."
Ikaruga laughed. It was a cold sound, empty and beautiful.
"You don't understand, Titania. My quarrel IS with you. You're the sacrifice. The key. The reason we're all here. If I kill you, Jellal's ritual fails. If I kill you, I win."
"You won't kill me."
"We'll see."
Ikaruga moved.
Erza barely saw the attack. One moment Ikaruga was ten feet away. The next, her blade was passing through Erza's Heart Kreuz Armor like it was made of paper.
The armor shattered.
Not cracked. Not damaged. SHATTERED. Pieces of magical steel flew in every direction, dissolving into light before they hit the ground.
Erza stumbled back, staring at the remnants of her requip. 'Impossible. That armor should have...'
Ikaruga examined her blade, pleased. "You didn't even see it coming, did you? I'm almost disappointed. The famous Titania, reduced to this."
Sho, watching from the shadows where he had hidden instead of fleeing, pressed his hand to his mouth to stifle a gasp.
'She destroyed her armor in one hit. ONE hit. Nee-san is in trouble.'
Erza's eyes hardened. "REQUIP! HEAVEN'S WHEEL ARMOR!"
Light blazed around her. The celestial armor formed, dozens of spectral swords materializing in a halo of brilliant light. She raised her hand, and the swords shot forward, a storm of death aimed at Ikaruga.
Ikaruga smiled.
Her blade moved. Not fast. Not furious. Just... precise. Each swing met a spectral sword and turned it aside. Each movement flowed into the next, a dance of perfect defense. The storm of blades parted around her like water around a stone, and when the last sword had fallen, she stood untouched.
"Pretty," Ikaruga said. "But pretty doesn't kill."
She attacked again.
This time Erza saw it coming. She raised her sword to block. Their blades met.
And Erza's Heaven's Wheel Armor exploded.
She flew backward, hitting the wall hard, cracks spreading across the stone. Her armor was gone, dissolved into motes of fading light. Blood trickled from her mouth.
Ikaruga walked toward her, unhurried, inevitable.
"Your armors are impressive," Ikaruga said. "The speed with which you requip is remarkable. But it doesn't matter. No matter what you wear, my blade will cut through it."
Erza pushed herself up. 'She's right. She's cutting through everything I have. But I can't stop. I WON'T stop.'
"REQUIP! FLAME EMPRESS ARMOR!"
The fire-resistant armor formed around her, crimson and gold, designed to withstand the hottest flames. Ikaruga's blade came down.
The armor shattered.
"REQUIP! PURGATORY ARMOR!"
The black armor of flame and fury materialized. Ikaruga's blade passed through it like mist.
Erza fell to one knee, gasping. Four armors. Destroyed in seconds. She had never faced anything like this.
Ikaruga stood over her, blade raised.
"You wear armor because you're weak," Ikaruga said. "Because you're afraid. Because without it, you're just a woman with a sword. And I am so far beyond you that you can't even comprehend the distance."
She brought the blade down.
Erza rolled. The sword bit into the stone where she had been, carving a trench a foot deep. She came up on her feet, her hands empty, her body bare of armor.
Sho watched from the shadows, tears streaming down his face. 'Get up, nee-san. Please get up.'
Ikaruga raised her blade for the final strike.
Erza closed her eyes.
And in that moment, something shifted.
She thought of Fairy Tail. Of Makarov's warm smile. Of Mirajane's gentle kindness. Of Gray's stupid rivalry and Happy's endless love of fish. Of Lucy's determination and loyalty. Of Natsu's fire, his warmth, his vow to make Jellal pay for every tear she had ever cried.
She thought of home.
And she realized, with a clarity that cut through fear and doubt and everything else, that she had been wrong.
'I'm not weak,' she thought. 'I never was. The armor wasn't to make me strong. It was to keep the warmth in. To hold onto the feelings that made me human.'
She opened her eyes.
Light blazed around her, but not the light of requip. Something else. Something simpler.
When it faded, she stood in a sarashi, a long strip of white cloth wrapped tightly around her torso, and a hakama with flames dancing at the hem. No armor. No protection. Just cloth and skin and the fire in her heart.
Ikaruga stared. Sho stared.
"What... is that?" Ikaruga asked. "That's not armor. That's nothing."
"It's everything," Erza said quietly.
She looked at Ikaruga, and her eyes held no fear. No doubt. No hesitation.
"I wore armor because I was weak. Because I was afraid. Because I thought if I covered myself in steel, no one could hurt me." She took a step forward. "But I was wrong. The armor didn't protect me. It isolated me. It kept out the cold, yes, but it also kept out the warmth. The warmth of my friends. My family. My home."
Another step.
"I don't need armor anymore. Because I have Fairy Tail. I have people who love me. People who believe in me. People who came to this tower, knowing they might die, just to save me."
Another step. She was ten feet away now. Five.
"And that warmth? That love? No blade can cut through it. No sword can destroy it. No monster, no god, no madman can take it from me."
She stopped, face to face with Ikaruga, close enough to touch.
"So yes. I am weak. I have always been weak. But I am also strong. Because I am not alone. And I never will be again."
Ikaruga stared at her. For the first time, something flickered in those cold eyes. Doubt? Confusion? Fear?
It didn't matter.
Both women moved.
Their blades met in the center of the corridor, steel screaming against steel. The impact sent shockwaves through the stone, cracking the walls, shattering the torches, plunging them into darkness lit only by the sparks of their clashing swords.
Again and again they struck. Erza's sarashi whipped around her as she moved, her blade a blur of desperate, furious precision. Ikaruga countered with that same impossible grace, each move perfect, each strike lethal.
But Erza didn't stop.
She couldn't stop.
She had people counting on her. Lucy, who had become a sister. Gray, who was more brother than rival. Natsu, who had held her in the dark and promised to make Jellal pay. Happy, who had trusted her since the beginning.
They were waiting for her.
They believed in her.
And she would NOT let them down.
"AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!"
Her final strike came from somewhere deeper than muscle, deeper than magic, deeper than anything Ikaruga had ever faced. It was the scream of a woman who had found something worth fighting for.
Ikaruga's blade rose to meet it.
The swords crossed.
For one eternal moment, they hung suspended, two women frozen in the instant before death.
Then Ikaruga's blade shattered.
The pieces flew through the air, sparkling like falling stars, and Ikaruga herself crumpled to the floor, a single cut across her chest, blood seeping through her perfect armor.
She looked up at Erza, and for the first time, her eyes held something other than cold amusement. Respect.
"Fifteen minutes," Ikaruga whispered. "Until Etherion fires. You and Jellal... both of you will lose."
Then her eyes closed, and she was still.
Erza stood over her, breathing hard, her blade dripping crimson. The sarashi was torn. The hakama was stained. But she was alive. She had won.
She turned to the shadows. "Sho."
He emerged, his face wet with tears, his expression one of awe. "Nee-san... that was... I've never seen anything like..."
"Find Simon," Erza said, her voice steady despite her exhaustion. "Find my friends from Fairy Tail. Take them out of the tower. Now."
Sho nodded, then hesitated. "What about you?"
Erza looked up, toward the top of the tower, toward the throne room where Jellal waited.
"I'm going to settle things. Between me and Jellal. Once and for all."
Sho wanted to argue. She could see it in his eyes. But something in her expression stopped him. He nodded once, then turned and ran.
Erza walked toward the stairs. Toward the top. Toward the end.
Behind her, Ikaruga lay still, her blood pooling on the stone.
Fifteen minutes.
And somewhere in the tower, in a corridor stained with monster's blood and the aftermath of impossible survival, Natsu Dragneel was nowhere to be seen.