The continent of Giltena was a vast, untamed expanse of rugged beauty, separated from Fiore by a turbulent stretch of ocean. It was a land of towering redwoods, crystalline rivers, and mountains that pierced the clouds like jagged teeth.
For most mages, a journey here was a logistical nightmare involving weeks of travel, hired guides, and uncomfortable nights sleeping on rocks.
For Blake Corvus and Cana Alberona, it was a Tuesday.
"Faster!" Cana yelled over the wind, her feet propped up on the dashboard, a bottle of expensive Giltenan wine already open in her hand. She looked radiant, her brown hair whipping around her face, her usual bikini top replaced by a light, open flannel shirt over a tank top.
Blake, one hand casually on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center console, smirked behind his sunglasses. "We're already doing 180, Cana. If I go any faster, we'll launch into orbit when we hit a pothole."
"Coward!" she laughed, taking a swig. "The car can take it. You built it!"
"I built it to drive, not to fly. That's Happy's job."
This was the freedom they had craved. No guild brawls, no Council mandates, no looming threats of ancient dark magic. Just them, the machine, and the horizon.
---
The first hurdle of their quest wasn't a monster; it was a map.
They had stopped at a crossroads in a small, rustic village called Oakhaven. The locals were currently staring at the Urus with a mixture of terror and religious awe. Blake was ignoring them, frowning at a map that was placed on his car hood.
"Okay," Blake muttered, tracing a line. " The quest says the Moon-Bloom Orchid is in the 'Valley of Whispers,' located north of the twin peaks. But this map says the road north is washed out."
"Let me see," Cana said. She tapped it aggressively. "Maps are boring. I trust the cards."
She pulled her deck from her hip pouch. She shuffled with a flourish, her eyes closed in concentration. "Oh, spirits of guidance... tell us the quickest path to the booze—I mean, the flower!"
She pulled a card. The Chariot.
"See?" she grinned, pointing down the left fork, a dirt path that looked barely wide enough for a goat, let alone an SUV. " The Chariot. That means 'Go fast, go forward.' That's the way."
Blake looked at the goat path. He looked at his pristine, custom-painted car. He looked at Cana.
"Cana, that looks like a hiking trail."
"Trust the cards, Blake! Have they ever steered us wrong?"
"Yes. Last week. When they told you to bet on a sick horse."
"That horse had spirit!"
Against his better judgment, Blake turned the wheel. They rumbled down the dirt path. Ten minutes later, the "path" ended abruptly at the edge of a sheer cliff dropping into a river.
Blake slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a halt inches from the edge. Gravel tumbled down into the water far below.
Silence filled the car.
Blake slowly turned his head to look at Cana.
Cana was intensely studying the label on her wine bottle. "Huh. Vintage 752. Good year."
"The Chariot?" Blake asked dryly.
"It... uh... it meant we should stop like a Chariot?" she offered weakly.
Blake sighed, put the car in reverse, and began the arduous process of backing a wide-body SUV up a narrow goat trail. "Next time, we'll use the map. Or I fly."
---
The boredom of long-distance travel eventually sets in. And when two equivalent) mages get bored, things get dangerous.
It started innocently enough on the second day. Blake had pulled over at a scenic overlook to stretch his legs and check the engine rune. He was bending over the open hood, focused on the mana-flow regulator.
Cana, leaning against the passenger door, grinned wickedly. She slipped a card from her deck. The Fool: Illusion.
She flicked her wrist, and the card dissolved into golden dust that settled on Blake's back.
"Everything okay under there?" she called out sweetly.
"Yeah, just a loose connection," Blake said, slamming the hood. He turned around.
He was wearing his usual black outfit. Or at least, he thought he was.
To Cana (and the passing carriage of nuns that was slowly rolling by), Blake was currently wearing a neon-pink, frilly ballerina tutu over his pants.
The nuns gasped, covering their eyes (and peeking through their fingers).
"What?" Blake asked, seeing Cana convulsing with silent laughter. "Do I have oil on my face?"
"No," Cana wheezed, tears streaming down her face. "You look... beautiful, Blake. Truly a fashion Icon."
Blake frowned. He looked down. He saw his black pants. He didn't see the illusion. He looked back at the nuns, who were giggling.
Then his Haki flared. He sensed the faint magical signature clinging to his back.
"Cana..." he growled.
"Gotcha!" she shrieked, diving into the car and locking the door.
Blake dispelled the illusion with a pulse of Anti-Magic. He smirked. Oh, it's on.
Two hours later, Cana woke up from a nap in the passenger seat. She reached for her trusty bottle of wine in the cup holder. She took a massive swig.
And immediately spat it out, sputtering.
It wasn't wine. It was... milk. Warm milk.
"BLAKE!" she yelled, wiping her mouth.
Blake kept his eyes on the road, his face a mask of perfect innocence. "Problem?"
"You... you replaced my wine?!"
"What is wrong with milk?" he said calmly. "Calcium is good for your bones, Cana. You're getting old."
"I'm eighteen!" she roared, throwing a grape at him. "You are a dead man!"
The war escalated.
When they stopped for lunch, Cana used The Magician to make Blake's sandwich taste like spicy wasabi every third bite. He ate it without flinching, staring her directly in the eyes to assert dominance.
That night, while setting up camp, Blake used his Conqueror's Haki with surgical precision to knock out only the mosquitoes in a ten-mile radius, but left exactly one buzzing around Cana's ear that she couldn't catch. She spent an hour swatting at empty air while he watched, amused.
It broke the tension of the journey, filling the empty miles with laughter and petty, magical vengeance.
---
By the evening of the third day, they reached the foothills of the Giltenan Mountains. The roads had vanished, replaced by dense, ancient forest.
They set up camp in a small clearing. Blake didn't need a tent; he built a shelter in minutes using fallen logs and his sheer physical strength. Cana started a fire with her magic.
Night fell, and the sky above Giltena was a breathtaking tapestry of stars, free from the light pollution of Magnolia. The "Moon-Bloom" phase was tonight. The moon hung huge and silver in the sky.
They sat by the fire, roasting skewers of meat Blake had hunted earlier. The prank war had called a truce.
Cana leaned against Blake, her head on his shoulder, staring into the flames.
"It's quiet," she whispered.
"Too quiet?" Blake asked, wrapping an arm around her.
"No," she smiled. "Just right. Back at the guild... it's always loud. Always fighting. Always something. Even my dad... he's loud even when he's not there. His shadow is loud."
Blake tightened his grip on her. "You stepped out of that shadow a long time ago, Cana. Beating the Thunder Legion? Holding your own against Mira? You're not just Gildarts's daughter anymore. You're Cana Alberona. The Ace."
She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "You really think so?"
"I know so," he said. "Why do you think I'm sitting here?"
She smiled, a soft, genuine expression that made his heart ache. She reached up, tracing the line of his jaw. "You know, for a guy who solves problems by punching them, you say the right things sometimes."
"I have my moments."
She pulled him down for a kiss. It wasn't frantic or hungry; it was slow, sweet, and tasted of campfire smoke and wine. It was a kiss of belonging. Under the alien stars of a foreign continent, they weren't mages. They were just two people who had found their home in each other.
---
The next morning, the real work began.
"The Moon-Bloom Orchid blooms at the peak of the lunar cycle, in the deepest part of the valley," Blake recited the quest parameters, checking his compass. "That means we have to hike."
"Walking?" Cana groaned. "Ugh. Fine. But you're carrying the loot."
They trekked through the dense forest for hours. The vegetation here was oversized; ferns as big as houses, mushrooms the size of tables. The air was thick with magical spores.
Finally, they reached the Valley of Whispers. It was a stunning, bowl-shaped depression filled with glowing blue moss. And there, in the center, bathed in a single shaft of sunlight filtering through the canopy, was a patch of delicate, silver-blue flowers.
The Moon-Bloom Orchids.
"Jackpot," Cana whispered. "That's 2.5 million Jewels right there."
They approached carefully.
"Wait," Blake said, stopping her with an arm across her chest. "The quest said 'Environmental Hazards.' Usually, that means a guardian."
"I don't see anything," Cana said, looking around. "Just flowers and..."
CRACK. BOOM.
The ground shook. The trees at the far end of the valley snapped like twigs.
A massive shadow fell over them.
Stepping out of the treeline was a Ancient Forest Wyvern. It was colossal, easily fifty feet tall, with scales like mossy stone and breath that smelled of acid. It roared, a sound that shook the leaves off the trees, and glared at the intruders daring to touch its garden.
Cana reached for her cards. "Okay, big guy. I'll take the left, you take the—"
"Hold on," Blake said calmly. He didn't draw his sword. He didn't take a fighting stance. He just walked forward.
"Blake? What are you doing?"
Blake kept walking until he was standing directly in the Wyvern's shadow. The beast roared again, opening a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth, preparing to incinerate him with acid breath.
Blake looked up. He took off his sunglasses.
He released a focused pulse of Conqueror's Haki.
It wasn't a blast. It was a suggestion. A primal message sent from an apex predator to a lesser one. The message was simple: Sit.
The Wyvern froze mid-roar. Its reptilian pupils contracted to pinpricks. It looked at the small human, and it felt a fear deeper than instinct. It felt the presence of a King.
The massive beast whimpered.
Slowly, comically, the fifty-foot Wyvern lowered its head. It tucked its wings in. It sat down on its haunches, looking for all the world like a scolded puppy. It let out a small, apologetic chirp.
Blake nodded. "Good boy."
He turned back to Cana, who was standing with her mouth open, her card half-drawn.
"Coast is clear," Blake said, putting his sunglasses back on. "Get the flowers."
Cana stared at the terrified dragon, then at Blake. She burst out laughing. "You... you bullied a dragon!"
Blake just shrugged.
They harvested the orchids quickly, taking care not to damage the roots. Blake packed them into the stasis box.
"Job done," he said.
As they walked away, the Wyvern watched them go, not daring to move a muscle until the terrifying man in the black coat was completely out of sight.
---
The drive back to the coast felt shorter. The mission was a success, the money was secured, and they were buzzing with the satisfaction of a job well done.
But more than that, the air between them had changed. The prank war had settled into a comfortable, easy rhythm. The silence wasn't heavy; it was shared.
They reached the ferry port just as the sun was setting on the fifth day.
They stood on the deck, watching the continent of Giltena recede into the distance.
"That was... fun," Cana said, leaning on the railing, the sea breeze tangling her hair.
"It was," Blake agreed, standing beside her.
"We should do it again," she said. "Next month? Maybe the desert continent? I hear they have cactus tequila."
"I'm in," Blake said.
Cana turned to him. Her expression turned mischievous again. She reached into her pocket.
"Hey, Blake?"
"Yeah?"
"I think you have something on your face."
Blake frowned. "Did I get oil on me again?"
He leaned in.
Cana grinned. She slapped a sticker onto his forehead. It was a bright, magical sticker that read: "PROPERTY OF CANA ALBERONA."
"There," she said, patting his cheek. "Now everyone knows."
Blake peeled the sticker off, looking at it. He laughed, a genuine, open sound. He didn't throw it away. He folded it and put it in his pocket.
"I think they already knew, Cana."
He pulled her in, kissing her as the sun dipped below the horizon, the ship carrying them back to Fiore, back to Fairy Tail, and back to the chaos that waited. But for now, in the middle of the ocean, with the quest finished and his girl in his arms, Blake had everything he needed.
They finally arrived back in Magnolia two days later. They walked into the guild hall, hand in hand, looking refreshed and happy.
"We're back!" Cana announced, slapping the quest reward on the counter.
"Welcome home!" Mira smiled. "How was the trip?"
"Uneventful," Blake lied smoothly.
"Boring," Cana lied with a wink.
Behind them, Natsu and Gray were fighting. Erza was eating cake. Wendy was laughing.