On the shores of Galuna Island, chaos reigned for a brief, watery moment.
Lucy Heartfilia, having been backed into a corner by the love-obsessed Sherry Blendi, had played her trump card.
With a desperate swing of her arm, she had summoned the Water Bearer, Aquarius.
The result was less of a battle and more of a natural disaster.
In a display of perfect "coordination"—if one could call it that—Aquarius unleashed a tidal wave that washed away friend, foe, and landscape alike.
In less than half a minute, Sherry was utterly defeated, washed up on the beach like a piece of driftwood.
Of course, Lucy herself had been equally battered by her own spirit, but a win was a win.
This marked Lucy's first genuine victory against a mage stronger than herself since joining Fairy Tail.
It was a milestone.
In the brutal world of magic, she had proven she wasn't just a damsel in distress; she could hold her own against an executive of a hostile group.
However, as fate—or perhaps the cruel will of the narrative—would have it, Lucy would rarely achieve such a decisive, solo victory again in the near future.
As the female protagonist, her role often involved being the target of kidnappings or bizarre plots, rivaling the number of times Natsu felt the urge to destroy public property.
But right now, Lucy didn't have time to revel in her triumph or ponder her future win-loss ratio.
"You... you hurt my Sherry!"
A screeching roar tore through the air.
Sherry's pet, the gargantuan rat known as Angelica, had recovered from the wave.
Its eyes glowing with feral rage, the beast lunged at the exhausted Celestial Mage.
Lucy, drained of magic power and soaking wet, couldn't move.
She watched the massive claws descending, death inches away.
'This is it,' she thought, shutting her eyes. 'I'm going to be rat food.'
Sssss-THWACK!
Suddenly, a blur of crimson and silver shot from the treeline.
A sharp gleam of sword light flashed before Lucy's squeezed-shut eyes, accompanied by the sound of steel singing through the air.
The once-ferocious giant rat froze.
Then, a dense web of sword energy erupted across its body.
With a pitiful squeal, the massive beast was blasted backward as if hit by a cannonball, crashing into the distant jungle.
Lucy opened her eyes, staring in delight at her savior.
"Erza!" she exclaimed, relief washing over her. "You're here! You saved—"
Her voice died in her throat.
Lucy's smile froze, then slowly twisted into a strange, terrified grimace.
She had noticed Erza's eyes.
They weren't the warm eyes of a friend; they were the icy, hardened eyes of a executioner.
Lucy suddenly remembered the reality of her situation.
She and Natsu had stolen an S-Class quest!
They had broken the guild's most sacred rule. And Erza... Erza wasn't here as backup.
She was here as the Disciplinary Committee!
Lucy shrank back, trembling under the murderous glare of the Titania.
"Lucy! Are you okay?!"
Right then, a familiar voice called out from the sky.
Happy, the blue exceed, flew over, his face filled with genuine concern for his teammate.
"Happy!" Lucy cried out, touched.
But before Lucy could reach out, Happy froze in mid-air.
His feline instincts screamed at him.
He saw the terrifying, armored figure standing over Lucy, radiating an aura of pure doom. Every hair on his blue fur stood on end.
Danger! Code Red!
Well aware of Erza's terror, Happy's loyalty evaporated instantly.
He no longer give a shit about Lucy's safety!
"Aye!" he squeaked, executing a sharp U-turn. He flapped his wings frantically, desperate to escape the scene and leave Lucy to her fate.
'That damn cat!' Lucy fumed inwardly, watching the traitor fly away.
But no one escaped the Fairy Queen.
Without a word, Erza burst into action.
With a powerful leap that cracked the ground beneath her boots, she launched herself into the air.
She moved faster than a cat with wings.
BAM!
There was a dull thud, followed by a pitiful yowl.
Moments later, Erza landed gracefully. She was dragging a weeping Happy by his tail, while Lucy sat shivering on the ground.
Erza's expression remained frosty.
She sheathed her sword with a sharp click, fixing her stern gaze on the two guilty figures.
"Lucy. Happy," she said, her voice dropping three octaves. "You both know what awaits you back at the guild, don't you?"
Although Makarov and Ankh had privately agreed to a lenient punishment involving a cover-up, Erza knew she had to play her part.
To maintain order, she needed to strike the fear of god into them.
She needed to be the strict older sister.
"Now," Erza commanded, "we will find Natsu and Gray, and we will return to the guild immediately."
Upon hearing this, Lucy's conscience flared up, overriding her fear.
"But Erza!" she pleaded, standing up shakily. "We can't just leave! The residents of this island... they turn into demons! They are truly pitiful, and we already have clues about the Moon Drip! We can help them!"
Clang.
The steel sword in Erza's hand was drawn halfway out of its scabbard. It gleamed silently under the pale moonlight, casting a cold reflection onto Lucy's face.
Erza's voice became even colder than before. "The situation on this island is none of your business."
"This mission was taken privately by you, in violation of guild law," Erza stated, reciting the regulations.
"Therefore, this commission's actions will not be recognized by Fairy Tail. You are civilians here, not mages."
"But—"
"Come with me," Erza interrupted, her tone final.
"Or do I have to drag you while unconscious?"
'Erza-san is truly terrifying...'
Facing Erza's oppressive presence directly, Lucy once again understood why "Titania" was the most feared woman in the guild.
It wasn't just her strength; it was this innate dignity, this unshakeable will that ordinary people couldn't withstand.
Defeated, Lucy slumped her shoulders.
Erza wasted no time.
She dutifully tied up Lucy and Happy with magical suppression ropes, slinging them over her shoulder like sacks of potatoes before marching toward the village to hunt down the boys.
However, even the sharp senses of Erza Scarlet failed to notice the observer in the darkness.
Behind a massive boulder on the edge of the battlefield, a short, hunchbacked man peeked out.
He wore a bizarre native mask covering the upper half of his face and a ragged cloak.
This was Zalty, the chaotic mage working for Lyon.
Or rather, that was the disguise.
"'Titania' Erza Scarlet..." the figure whispered, the voice dripping with mockery. "Is she only this capable? Relying on nothing but her words and intimidation to control her subordinates?"
Beneath the mask, Ultear Milkovich's lips curled into a disdainful sneer.
She had watched the entire exchange.
To her, Erza's adherence to rules and her "acting" were pathetic.
"Aside from Ankh," Ultear murmured, shaking her head, "everyone in this guild is just a low-level Mage. Trash playing family."
Ultear sneered, satisfied with her reconnaissance.
She prepared to turn away and report back to Lyon, intending to manipulate him further toward the resurrection of Deliora.
"What did you just say?"
A voice, cold as the deepest abyss, whispered directly into her ear.
Ultear froze. Her blood turned to ice.
Hearing this familiar voice, her legs instinctively went weak.
Her knees knocked together, and she nearly collapsed right there.
'Why?! Why didn't I sense him?!'
The short "man" turned around slowly, every movement creaking with terror.
A forced, strained smile plastered itself onto the disguise.
"You... You've come..." the disguised voice trembled, slipping unconsciously into a tone of deep respect.
Standing there, leaning casually against a tree, was Ankh.
But his posture wasn't relaxed.
His crimson eyes glowed in the shadows, revealing a cold, suffocating killing intent that made the air heavy to breathe.
"Return to your true form before speaking to me," Ankh commanded indifferently. "I hate looking at that mask."
The "man" gritted his teeth.
Part of her wanted to run, to fight, but the memory of his power kept her rooted.
"Yes..."
As the words fell, a shimmer of Time Arc magic flowed around the hunchbacked figure.
The disguise melted away like wax.
The short stature elongated, the ragged clothes shifted, and within seconds, the beautiful, dark-haired form of Ultear Milkovich was revealed.
She knelt on one knee before Ankh, lowering her head, her eyes anxiously staring at the tips of his boots.
She had a bad feeling.
A very bad feeling.
She knew she had said something wrong earlier, and Ankh's hearing was unnaturally sharp.
"You were saying..." Ankh took a step forward, the dry leaves crunching under his foot like thunder.
"What about Erza?"
Ultear's heart clenched violently in her chest.
He heard.
Ultear bowed her head even deeper, her forehead nearly touching the dirt.
Fine beads of sweat broke out on her pretty face. "Master, I—"
"What were you saying about the guild earlier?" Ankh interrupted, his voice devoid of emotion. "That they are trash? That Erza is incompetent?"
"I was merely—"
"Silence."
Ankh raised his hand.
A circular, black Magic Circle gradually manifested in his palm. The air began to vibrate with a low hum.
In the next moment, the world collapsed.
"Titan Gravity."
A terrifying, invisible weight suddenly slammed down onto Ultear's back.
It was as if a mountain had been dropped on her shoulders.
"Guh!"
Ultear, kneeling on one knee, struggled desperately to support herself.
Her magic flared, trying to resist, but it was useless against the sheer magnitude of Ankh's power.
She couldn't resist.
If she tried to fight back, what awaited her next would likely be death.
Ankh gradually increased the output.
Crack.
Ultear collapsed from her kneeling position, smashed flat against the ground.
Her limbs were splayed out, pinned by the invisible hand of gravity.
All the muscles in her body screamed in protest.
Her originally beautiful face was pressed into the dirt, distorted by the pressure, and her impressive chest was flattened against the earth.
But Ankh wasn't done.
"You have a loose tongue, Ultear. It needs training."
He altered the spell.
The originally singular direction of gravity—downward—abruptly shifted.
Terrifying forces surged densely from all directions.
Left, right, up, down, diagonal.
This was a technique taught to Ankh by Seram, during his hellish training.
It involved using frenzied, conflicting gravitational forces to continuously twist, pull, and hammer the body, thereby tempering the flesh like steel.
Though it offered numerous benefits for physical toughness, the pain endured during this process was beyond human comprehension.
It felt like being put into a meat grinder that was also a trash compactor.
Even Ankh, as powerful as he was now, shuddered to recall it.
"AHHHH!"
As if forged by the immense power of the void, Ultear's body felt like it was being wrung out like a wet towel.
Her bones creaked, her muscles tore and knitted instantly under the pressure.
She could no longer hold back.
A piercing scream tore from her throat, echoing through the silent forest.
"Master! No! Forgive me!" she shrieked, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the dirt. "I didn't mean it! I won't say it again!"
"Please! Spare me!!"
Sweat poured from her like a flood, soaking her clothes instantly.
Under the relentless assault of the multi-directional gravity, the fabric of her outfit began to tear and fray.
Yet she couldn't move a finger.
She could only lie there, straining her voice, pleading tearfully like a child.
Ankh watched her coldly.
He watched her contorted face, her trembling form, and the sheer terror in her eyes.
He waited for a full ten seconds—an eternity for her—before he finally clenched his fist, dismissing the magic circle.
The pressure vanished instantly.
Ultear gasped, sucking in air greedily, her body trembling uncontrollably as she lay in the dirt, broken and humbled.
Ankh stared down at her, his expression utterly unmoved.
"Remember this pain, Ultear," he whispered.
"You can scheme against the world, but you will speak of my sister with respect. Am I clear?"