Ultear gasped for breath, her lungs burning as she lay in the damp dirt.
It took several minutes before she could even begin to recover.
The "Titan Gravity" hadn't just been weight; it was a precise, surgical pressure that had reached into every fiber of her being.
Every joint, every muscle, and every nerve had been recklessly reshaped like soft clay under a potter's heavy hand.
It was an agonizing lesson in anatomy and dominance.
Wincing at the intense soreness that bloomed through her frame, Ultear struggled to prop herself up.
Her arms trembled, and her face was still dusted with earth, but she forced herself into a kneeling position.
She lowered her head, eyes fixed on the soil, silently awaiting the next wave of Ankh's judgment.
Ankh stared down at her, his expression unreadable.
Then, he suddenly crouched down.
With his right hand, he gripped her face harshly, his fingers digging into her jaw as he forced her head back up to meet his gaze.
Ultear's breath hitched.
She stared into those icy, blood-red eyes.
They were cold, reflecting none of the warmth he showed to the guild.
Though terror gripped her heart like a physical hand, she lacked the strength to resist.
She could only look at him pitifully, her lips trembling.
Unswayed by her pleading expression, Ankh tightened his grip, the pressure bruising her skin.
"Remember this," he said, his voice calm, which made it all the more terrifying. "No matter where you are, no matter who you serve—if you speak ill of Erza or the guild again, I will make you experience a fate that makes death seem like a mercy. Am I clear?"
Ultear's cheeks ached, her jaw pinned so tightly she couldn't speak.
She could only nod frantically, tears of pain pricking the corners of her eyes.
Suddenly, Ankh's eyes softened.
He released his grip and smiled, a transformation so complete that it was... jarring.
He reached out with a thumb and gently wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek, chuckling softly.
"Well, now," he said, his voice dropping into a gentle, melodic tenor. "Did it hurt that much?"
Ultear stared at him, bewildered by his unpredictability.
She swallowed hard, her heart still racing. "N-No, Master. It's... it's fine..."
Ankh nodded, stroking her sweat-drenched hair with the affection one might show a pet.
"Good. I let it pass this time. After all, you are my most capable subordinate. You are precious to me. But from now on, do not involve the guild's members in your petty words. Understand?"
Ultear looked at him as if he were a different person entirely.
The fear was still there, but it was now laced with a strange, hypnotic awe.
Ankh's soothing words and gentle touch acted like a balm on her shattered nerves, though the underlying threat remained.
"Thank you, Master," she replied in a low, respectful voice, her head bowing again. "This time... I truly spoke out of turn. It won't happen again."
Ankh watched her, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
Strike first, then offer a sweet reward.
It was a tactic he had thoroughly mastered.
Especially with someone like Ultear—a child who had been starved for affection and warped by betrayal from a young age.
To someone who had only known the cold indifference of the Bureau of Magic Development or the cruelty of Hades, this cycle of violence and tenderness was an effective means of psychological subdual.
Just look at her gaze now—a complex cocktail of fear, resentment, and a burgeoning, twisted delight.
After such a long period of "training," even without the use of coercive magic like Heart-Entangling Poison, Ultear was nearly submitted.
This operation on Galuna Island was the final piece of the puzzle.
As long as Ankh held the secret of Ur's life and death, her loyalty was sealed in ice.
Ankh reached out and massaged her sore shoulders, the casual intimacy of the gesture causing her to flinch slightly before she leaned into the touch.
"How are things with the Moon Drip?" he asked.
Overwhelmed by the sudden favor, Ultear hurried to answer.
"The ritual is ready. Lyon has gathered the acolytes. We only need to wait for him to make the final move tonight when the moon is at its peak."
As she spoke, Ultear couldn't help the confusion gnawing at her.
As a triple agent—pretending as Jellal's subordinate, serving Grimoire Heart, and in reality, answering to Ankh—the instructions from all sides were a tangled mess.
Yet the focus remained on Deliora.
She understood why Jellal wanted the demon for the R-System, and why Grimoire Heart coveted it for Zeref's legacy.
But Ankh? There was no strategic benefit for Fairy Tail in reviving a world-destroying demon.
Unless... she realized.
His target was never Deliora to begin with.
"Let's go," Ankh commanded, standing up. "Take me to see where the beast is frozen."
Ultear struggled to stand.
Her legs were weak, and a sharp soreness radiated from her back.
She dragged her body forward, each step a chore.
She walked with a slow, laborious shuffle that resembled an elderly woman carrying a heavy burden.
Ankh watched her with a faint, amused expression.
'Perhaps I did go a bit too hard', he thought. 'She can't even walk properly.'
The guild's honor was non-negotiable, but efficiency was also a priority. If she took an hour to reach the cavern, the ritual might start without them.
Quickly stepping behind her, Ankh reached out.
"Ah!" Ultear let out a small yelp of panic as Ankh's arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Before she could process the movement, his other hand swept under her knees.
With a sudden, effortless burst of strength, Ankh lifted her into the air, cradling her against his chest in a princess carry.
Ultear was stunned.
Her eyes went wide, and her face instantly turned a shade of red that rivaled a boiled crab.
From the moment of her traumatic childhood until now, Ultear had been a creature of cold calculation and distance.
She had never been this close to a man, especially not in a position so intimate and... ambiguous.
Compared to the tall, imposing Ankh, Ultear's frame felt petite, almost delicate in his arms.
He shifted her slightly to find a better balance.
"Lead the way," he said.
"I... I can walk on my own, Master..." she whispered, shrinking into his chest, her usual boldness replaced by a sudden, stuttering timidity.
Ankh glanced down at her, the movement bringing his face inches from hers.
"Too slow. I don't like waiting. Just point the way."
Holding her felt like holding a soft, silken cloud, and despite the grim surroundings, Ankh felt his spirits lifting.
Truthfully, he could have summoned a Ophiuchus to mend her condition instantly.
But why trouble a Celestial Spirit with such laborious tasks when he could handle the situation himself?
Carrying her while stepping lightly on miniature gravity arrays to increase his speed, Ankh navigated the rocky terrain with ease.
He followed her trembling gestures through a series of long, winding chaotic tunnels that smelled of ancient magic and sulfur.
Finally, they emerged into a vast, hidden cavern.
The air here was freezing, with frost coating the walls like white moss.
At the center of the cavern stood the legend that had haunted Ishgar for decades: Deliora.
The monster's form was terrifying.
It touched the high cave ceiling, its bulging muscles carved from dark, demonic wood, and fierce fangs protruding from a muzzle designed for slaughter.
The only strange thing about the imposing beast was its stillness.
The monster was encased in a gargantuan, shimmering block of solid ice.
It was the Ice Shell, Ur's final spell, a seal without a single crack or blemish, holding the nightmare in a timeless stasis.
Ankh lowered Ultear to her feet, though he kept a supporting hand on her arm.
He walked forward, breath puffing out in white clouds.
"So this is Deliora," Ankh murmured, placing a hand on the cold surface of the ice.
He wasn't looking at the demon. He was looking at the magic itself.
This was Ur.
This was the woman who had traded her existence to save her students, and the woman who held the key to Ultear's redemption—and her absolute loyalty.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he whispered, his red eyes reflecting the crystalline frost.
"A mother's eternal embrace."
Ultear stood behind him, silent, her breath hitching as she stared at the ice that contained the woman she hated—and the woman she was about to discover had never stopped loving her.