Chapter 338: As Long as It's You
Deep within the subterranean abyss of the Tartaros Headquarters, an eerie, sickly green luminescence bathed the cold stone walls.
Inside the cavernous laboratory, rows of towering, cylindrical glass vats bubbled with a viscous, amniotic fluid. Inside one of these massive chambers, Tempester floated in a state of suspended agony. His once-imposing demonic body was completely tattered and broken, missing chunks of flesh and bone. Slowly, agonizingly, his dark tissue was undergoing forced restoration, the unholy magic of the Underworld weaving his cursed fibers back together.
"I'll have to trouble you, Kyōka," Tempester's voice echoed, muffled through the thick glass and bubbling liquid.
He spoke to Kyōka, the sadistic yet fiercely loyal demoness who managed the intricate regeneration systems for the elite members of Tartaros. She stood before the vat, her sharp, avian-like helmet glinting in the dim light, her expression one of cold calculation.
"Don't worry, Tempester," Kyōka replied, her voice smooth but laced with an underlying cruelty. "The process is proceeding smoothly. Your vessel will be whole again soon."
Inside the vat, the demon's brow furrowed slightly. "Tempester... is that my name?"
Kyōka's eyes narrowed. "Ah. The side effects of a complete physical reconstruction. It seems your memory has grown fragmented once again."
Tempester closed his eyes, his half-formed face twitching as new muscles knitted together over his exposed jaw. "If obtaining a new body means I'll forget this name, then names are meaningless to me anyway. I only need to remember my purpose. How long will the regeneration take?"
"Normally, a standard reconstruction would only take a single day," Kyōka explained, trailing a sharp, clawed finger against the glass of his vat. "But other units are currently heavily engaged. It will take a bit longer for your core to stabilize."
Tempester's singular, functioning eye snapped open. "Other units? Is someone else among the Nine Demon Gates injured besides me?"
"No," Kyōka answered, a twisted, almost maternal smile curling her lips. She turned her gaze to the side, looking toward an adjacent, equally massive vat. "It is my child—a newborn demon."
Inside the neighboring chamber, Minerva Orland floated in the emerald fluid, her body convulsing as she underwent a horrifying, agonizing transformation. Demonic Ethernano was violently fusing with her human cells, rewriting her very DNA.
"Minerva possesses magnificent aptitude for Tartaros," Kyōka praised, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "Her darkness is profound. She will be a beautiful weapon."
"Gegegege!" A strange, grating cackle echoed through the damp stone corridor. Franmalth, the bizarre, cyclopean demon of Tartaros, waddled into the laboratory, leaning heavily on his cane. "I just hope she doesn't end up a miserable failure like Doriate!"
"Franmalth," Kyōka warned, her tone instantly dropping by several degrees.
The stout demon ignored her chilling glare, hobbling right up to Tempester's bubbling vat. "Do you have any idea how much this cost? How much, Mr. Tempester?! Regeneration isn't free, you know! It costs a fortune in souls! Don't go abusing your Bane Particles and blowing yourself up like that next time!"
Franmalth tapped the glass with his cane, teasing the regenerating demon with an obnoxious sneer.
[Akarin's Note: Tempester's Curse allows him to mimic natural disasters, but his ultimate move involves self-destructing his body to release a devastating, highly concentrated cloud of Magical Barrier Particles (Bane Particles) to wipe out his enemies.]
Tempester merely stared down at him, his voice distorted by the fluid. "Fairy Tail... if it weren't for their unexpected interference, this wouldn't have happened. Their mages are abnormally resilient."
"Fairy Tail?" Kyōka scoffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "That's the guild that managed to defeat the Oración Seis and Grimoire Heart. Interesting. Do those pathetic humans actually want to challenge us? Let them try!"
Kyōka possessed extensive intelligence regarding the surface world and its magical factions. Being able to defeat the Oración Seis and Grimoire Heart meant Fairy Tail wasn't exactly a guild of nobodies.
However, in her eyes, those two dark guilds were still far too green, far too human, compared to the absolute supremacy of Tartaros. In the Oración Seis, only their master, Brain, was somewhat formidable; the rest were nothing special.
As for Grimoire Heart, their master Hades was indeed a powerhouse of human magic, and their vice-master Bluenote Stinger was not weak either. But the so-called 'Seven Kin of Purgatory' were relatively average when compared to true demons.
Overall, the Balam Alliance was a farce. Tartaros was, and always had been, the strongest, most terrifying force in the criminal underworld. And soon, the entire continent of Ishgar would understand that reality.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, the air violently warped and distorted.
Ren manipulated the spatial fabric around him with flawless precision. He performed several consecutive Flying Thunder God Techniques, chaining the jumps together to instantly cross massive geographical distances.
He was teleporting strictly to the spatial coordinates he had previously left behind. During his various guild missions and travels, Ren had meticulously marked key locations across the continent with his custom formula. It was a habit born of convenience and tactical foresight.
Once he planned a route for a mission, he could bypass physical travel entirely, skipping train rides and mountain treks to save a massive amount of time. Right now, every second was absolutely vital.
Soon, the golden flash of his magic dissipated, and Ren materialized silently in the courtyard of a luxurious, secluded countryside estate. This was the peaceful retirement home of the former Magic Council Member, Michello.
Ren didn't bother knocking. He bypassed the intricate magical security wards as if they were made of wet paper and stepped directly into the old man's lavish study.
Michello, a small, stout man with distinct feline features and whiskers, nearly choked on his expensive tea as a young man suddenly appeared in his heavily guarded home.
Without missing a beat, Ren coolly and ruthlessly explained the dire situation to the retired politician.
"And that's the situation," Ren concluded, his crimson eyes locking onto the old man. "Your current position is incredibly dangerous. It won't be long before the executioners from Tartaros find their way here to silence you."
Michello wiped the spilled tea from his fine robes, his feline ears twitching in indignation. He puffed out his chest, trying to muster the authority he once wielded. "I appreciate the sentiment, young man, but to be perfectly honest, this brazen behavior of yours is quite troubling! Breaking into my home? Furthermore, how do you even know where I live?!"
"You don't need to worry about that," Ren dismissed instantly, his tone flat and utterly uncompromising.
"I know all about your guild's affairs!" Michello snapped, pointing a trembling, clawed finger at Ren. "Fairy Tail is a guild that does nothing but cause immense trouble and property damage! From where I stand, this whole story sounds like a farce. You just want to use me as bait for whatever incident you're wrapped up in, don't you?!"
Ren didn't blink. He didn't offer a reassuring smile or a heroic platitude. He just stared at the old man with a gaze so cold it made the room temperature plummet.
"Exactly. I am using you as bait."
Michello recoiled, his jaw dropping in shock.
"My companion was critically injured during an encounter with one of their demons," Ren continued, his voice void of any warmth. "Her body is shutting down, and I need to capture a high-ranking member of Tartaros alive to extract its blood and create a serum. You've already been targeted by their assassination squad. If I ignore you and leave right now, there is only one end for you: a very painful death."
At this point, Ren didn't plan on being polite, nor did he care about respecting former authority figures. Whether the stubborn old cat agreed or not wouldn't change a single thing about Ren's actions.
If the man cooperated peacefully, Ren wouldn't use force. If he threw a tantrum, Ren would simply knock him unconscious and prop him up by the window to lure the demons in.
"Are you joking?!" Michello shouted in a huff, his whiskers bristling with outrage. "What kind of absolute fool would stay in place after knowing a dark guild is coming to assassinate them?! I'm leaving this instant, and don't you dare try to follow me, you insolent brat!"
Michello turned toward the door, packing his pipe and aggressively adjusting his robes.
"Are you sure?" Ren asked softly, his voice cutting through the old man's bluster like a razor. "The enemy might be lying in wait right outside your front gate at this very moment. They're likely just waiting for you to step out of your magical wards so they can blow you to pieces. If you walk out that door, I won't lift a finger to help you."
"Ugh!!" Michello froze mid-step, thoroughly startled by the terrifying imagery Ren painted.
If the enemy really was a demon from the books of Zeref, and if they were truly waiting outside... things would be disastrous. His old, frail body wouldn't last a second against an elite assassin.
"Grandfather, please! He's come out of kindness. Don't be so rude to our guest!"
A sweet, bubbly voice interrupted the tense standoff. A young girl walked out from the adjoining hallway, carrying a tray of fresh pastries. She was Michelia, Michello's beloved granddaughter.
Ren recognized her instantly. She was famously known as one of Loke's many ex-girlfriends. Seven years ago, because the playboy Celestial Spirit had hooked up with a sitting Council Member's granddaughter, the entire Fairy Tail guild had to endure a massive scolding from the infuriated Magic Council.
"Michelia! Stay back!" Michello warned protectively.
"Besides, Grandfather, Mr. Ren is incredibly amazing!" Michelia ignored the old man entirely, her eyes sparkling with unmistakable admiration as she looked at Ren. "He's the undisputed winner of the Grand Magic Games! And not just that... he's the current First Seat of the Ten Wizard Saints! You're so incredibly lucky to have Mr. Ren here to protect you!"
Ignoring her grandfather's sputtering, Michelia eagerly pulled out a high-quality autograph board and a golden pen from her apron, rushing over to Ren.
"Mr. Ren, I'm a massive fan of yours! Could I please have your autograph?" she asked, bowing slightly, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
Ren sighed internally, though his outward expression remained neutral. "Sure."
He took the golden pen and swiftly signed his name with elegant strokes, handing the board back to the ecstatic girl.
Michello, however, was frozen in place. "The First Seat of the Ten Wizard Saints...?!!"
[Akarin's Note: The 'Ten Wizard Saints' are officially recognized by the Magic Council as the ten most powerful and influential mages on the continent of Ishgar. The First Seat is widely considered the absolute strongest human mage on the continent.]
Michello knew all about the Grand Magic Games; it was an extravagant event held by the Kingdom of Fiore shortly after he stepped down from his position as a Council Member. He hadn't been interested in the theatrics of guilds fighting for sport and hadn't paid much attention to the results.
But the First Seat of the Ten Wizard Saints was an entirely different matter. When he was still in office, the monstrous mage who held that supreme position was God Serena.
God Serena was an anomaly, a monster possessing unparalleled talent and the power of eight different Dragon Slaying Lacrimas.
Later, God Serena shocked the world by betraying the continent of Ishgar, abandoning his post to join the distant Alvarez Empire. That devastating betrayal had left the First Seat of the Ten Wizard Saints completely vacant for years.
In recent times, Michello hadn't heard of the newly reformed Magic Council awarding the title to anyone. He never expected, not in his wildest dreams, that they would grant the absolute highest seat of magical authority to such a young, disrespectful man.
"You're the First Seat of the Ten Wizard Saints?!" Michello demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Where is your Ten Wizard Saints badge, then?!"
The old man was highly skeptical. Although he had heard rumors long ago that a rookie from Fairy Tail named Ren had defeated Jose Porla—a former member of the Ten Wizard Saints—he still wanted hard proof. The official badge of the Ten Wizard Saints was forged with unique, un-counterfeitable magic.
"I left that thing in a drawer at home," Ren replied casually, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Who walks around wearing a giant gold medal all the time? Besides, I don't like wearing random junk on my clothes."
He wasn't lying. He genuinely found the bulky, ornate badge completely impractical for combat, so he had literally tossed it into a random desk drawer in his bedroom. Status symbols meant absolutely nothing to him.
Hearing this nonchalant excuse, Michello immediately suspected that Ren was a total fraud. Being the First Seat of the Ten Wizard Saints was a supreme, god-like honor on the continent of Ishgar. How could anyone in their right mind just 'leave it in a drawer'?
"Listen here, you arrogant little—!"
Just as Michello was about to fiercely voice his doubts and demand Ren leave his property, Ren's crimson eyes suddenly dilated. His Observation Haki flared, detecting a massive, hyper-compressed spike of malicious magical energy right outside the window.
Ren's expression shifted instantly from bored indifference to icy hostility.
BOOM——!!
A catastrophic explosion violently erupted against the side of the estate. The sheer concussive force of the blast instantly atomized the reinforced magical wards. The entire right wing of the luxurious house was blown apart in a blinding flash of orange fire and shattering glass.
"Wha... what's happening?! An explosion?!!" Michello panicked, completely deafened by the roar of the blast.
Having spent his life safely behind a desk in the Council, he had never faced such raw, overwhelming destruction firsthand. His frail hands and feet flailed wildly as the floor beneath him disintegrated into a burning crater.
The heat of the fireball licked at their skin, but before the flames could consume them, a golden flash illuminated the collapsing study.
"Mr. Ren!" Michelia gasped.
When the blinding light faded, Michelia realized that she was no longer standing in the burning wreckage. Both she and her trembling grandfather were being casually carried by Ren, one under each arm. They were now standing safely on the manicured lawn of the courtyard, fifty feet away from the blazing inferno that used to be their home.
Clearly, Ren had reacted in a fraction of a millisecond, using his spatial magic to teleport them perfectly out of the blast zone.
Then, a cruel, mocking voice rang out from within the thick, black smoke pouring from the ruins.
"Oh? You actually dodged it?"
A silhouette stepped forward through the raging flames, entirely unbothered by the heat. It was a humanoid demon with distinctive canine features, wearing an open vest that revealed a heavily muscled chest. A long, prehensile tail whipped lazily behind him.
The demon tilted his head, a sadistic, feral grin spreading across his face. "I'm genuinely surprised. I thought for sure I'd blown everyone in that room to tiny little bits, just like I did to those pathetic current Council Members in Era."
Ren gently set the terrified grandfather and granddaughter down on the grass. He slowly stood to his full height, his eyes locking onto the smirking demon.
"You're the one who bombed the Magic Council Members?" Ren asked, his voice deathly quiet.
"That's right, it was me," the demon sneered, crossing his arms. He let out a harsh laugh, raw Curse power radiating from his claws in the form of sparking explosions. "The name's Jackal, one of the Nine Demon Gates. And who the hell are you, brat?"
Ren didn't bother giving his name. The air around him grew heavy, the atmospheric pressure visibly distorting as his immense, terrifying magic power began to leak from his body. He had come here looking for a demon of Tartaros to bleed dry.
"As long as it's you..." Ren whispered, his eyes glowing with unrestrained murderous intent. "...that's fine."
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