"Oh... You managed to withstand my roar and still have the nerve to spout such arrogant words."
Cobra rode through the air on the back of the giant purple snake, Cubellios.
His coat had torn away, and his arms had burst through his sleeves to reveal dark red, scale-covered dragon-like limbs.
His face was filled with disdain and arrogance as he looked down at the battered mage below.
"For an 'Old-Era' Dragon Slayer Mage like you," Cobra laughed wildly, "reaching this level is quite impressive. But you are obsolete."
Happy, also bruised all over and emitting toxic purple smoke from his fur, lay panting on the ground.
Hearing Cobra's words, he tilted his head in confusion.
"Old-era Dragon Slayer Mage?" Happy murmured. "Could it be... you're not a true Dragon Slayer Mage either? Just like Laxus?"
"True Dragon Slayer Mage?"
Cobra's sharp eyes filled with mockery as he sneered: "In my view, it's ones like you who are the fake Dragon Slayer Mages. After all, in this world..."
He spread his clawed arms wide.
"There are no dragons at all!! They are myths! We are the perfection of the art!"
Fwoosh.
Flames surged upward from the ground.
However, these were different from Natsu's previous explosive bursts.
The fire now burning flowed slowly and heavily, like molten magma. It was dense and controlled.
Natsu stood up slowly.
He patted the indignant Happy's head gently. The flames covering his body moved fluidly, as if they were extensions of his own arms.
Though the loud sound waves and imposing explosive aura had diminished, anyone with magical senses could see the terrifying, compressed power contained within those quiet flames.
Cobra widened his eyes.
He stared in disbelief at the man he had just been beating helplessly in the air, who was now standing up as if nothing had happened.
Different from Cobra's own arms that had transformed to resemble snake scales, crimson dragon scales were gradually emerging all over Natsu's skin—around his eyes, on his arms, and across his chest.
His entire aura blazed with a steady heat like the scorching sun at its zenith.
"You say dragons don't exist?"
Natsu raised his head.
His face, which had been bruised and purple from poisoning just moments ago, was now restored to a healthy glow.
The high temperature of his magic was continuously evaporating the toxic gases from his body before they could harm him.
Hiss...
The poison turned to steam.
Cobra stood on Cubellios as if facing a formidable enemy, his face full of shock.
'The worst part was,' Cobra realized with a start, 'from just now... I can't hear this guy's thoughts at all!'
'Why? Had my magic failed?'
'No, that wasn't it,' Cobra realized in horror. 'The guy simply wasn't thinking about anything at all. His mind is empty. How could such a thing be possible? And how will he attack if he doesn't plan it?'
"By instinct."
Cobra's pupils contracted.
Natsu grinned, revealing his canines, as if guessing what Cobra was thinking.
He mimicked Cobra's earlier arrogant tone.
"I'll show you right now what True Dragon really is!"
As the words fell, Natsu pushed off the ground with both feet.
BOOM!
Explosively launching himself into the air without relying on Happy's wings, the flames covering his body instantly burst forth like a rocket, propelling him upward in a leap.
"Too fast!" Cobra gasped.
Before Cobra could react or read a move, he felt an astonishing heat rushing straight toward his face!
"Fire Dragon's Iron Fist!!"
Far surpassing the power of his previous attacks, the high-temperature flames enhanced his punch.
This aerial strike seemed to have found its explosive point—with Cobra's face at the center of impact.
CRASH!
Massive, scorching flames rolled outward like tidal waves, engulfing the sky.
"Urgh!!"
Cobra was sent flying off Cubellios, nearly knocked unconscious by Natsu's single punch.
He crashed into the ruins below.
Happy looked up joyfully at the fireworks blooming in the sky, his heart leaping with excitement.
He did it!
Only Happy knew how much Natsu had sacrificed to achieve this form.
Ever since Ankh gave Natsu that Dragon Gem necklace, Natsu had been encouraged by Igneel within his mind.
He spent every day studying with the necklace, striving to achieve that level of strength without relying on the item itself.
The previous "Fire Dragon King Mode" was powerful, but draining.
Natsu could use it for about a minute without the necklace, but he was far from satisfied.
Between the "Fire Dragon King Mode" and his "Normal State," Natsu found a middle ground—the "Dragon Force" Mode!
This mode significantly enhanced the quality of Natsu's Magic Power, covering key areas with Dragon Scales to boost defense and heat.
Although it wasn't as exaggerated as the Dragon King Mode—with weaker scales and no Dragon Claws, horns, or wings—its advantage lay in endurance!
Using his unparalleled combat intellect, Natsu continuously adjusted the Dragon Force mode.
In this form, he could fight normally for a full day and night without tiring!
"Go for it, Natsu!" Happy shook his head and cheered wildly from the ground. "Show him the power of a real dragon!"
Dodging stone pillars in the air nearby, Cobra was punched into a disadvantage.
Seeing this from the ground, Racer's expression darkened instantly.
Cobra is losing? Impossible.
"Don't get distracted, you bastard!"
Lyon's voice rang out.
"Ice-Make: Ape!"
A giant ice ape swung its fist, smashing down hard toward Racer's head.
Racer easily shifted his steps.
"Slow."
He dodged to the side like lightning, only to be met with a dense barrage of ice spears thrusting toward him from Gray.
"Ice-Make: Lance!"
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Amid the dense ice spears, Racer's body twisted and swayed continuously.
He looked like he was dancing, effortlessly breaking through the high-frequency rain of ice spears.
Then, growing somewhat impatient with the stalemate, Racer moved as if teleporting.
Bam!
He rushed before Gray and kicked him to the ground again.
"Gah!"
Gray rolled and quickly got up, panting heavily.
His gaze shifted to Natsu chasing Cobra in the distance, seeing the fire lighting up the sky.
His eyes grew complicated.
"That pyro bastard is almost done with his fight," Gray muttered to himself, wiping blood from his mouth.
"I can't fall behind."
He turned to Lyon and asked:
"What do you think, Lyon? It's time we finish this guy off too."
Lyon smiled confidently, looking at Racer, and said, "I've already seen through your Magic!"
"You must have realized it too, Gray."
Gray dusted himself off, his expression calm as he replied, "Yeah... it was really hard to observe. But we figured it out."
Racer was unsettled by their sudden confident stance.
With his companion Cobra getting beaten up in the distance, he grew increasingly flustered.
"Stop Bluffing!" Racer shouted. "Let's see how you handle high-speed attacks!"
Steeling himself, Racer charged at the two once more.
But soon, something happened that left Racer dumbfounded.
These two freaks suddenly tore off their upper garments.
Rip.
They tossed their shirts aside to reveal muscular physiques that would drive anyone wild (or confuse them).
Then, poised and ready, they lowered their stance and burst forth—
Sprinting away from Racer.
Racer: ...
Huh?
He stopped dead in his tracks.
'All that grand posture... just to run away?'
They were sprinting in the opposite direction, putting distance between them and him.
Then, Gray's voice drifted over from afar, shouting back at him.
"That guy's Magic is just child's play! A Mage who only uses fists and feet can't kill us! He has no finishing move!"
Lyon's mocking voice also reached Racer's ears, loud and clear:
"You're right, Gray. This guy's speed doesn't come with strength. Let's ignore this man who only knows how to run! He's nothing but a coward!"
Can't kill?
Only knows how to run?!
Their words completely enraged Racer.
Especially Lyon's cutting remark about "only knowing how to run."
Flashback.
Back in the Tower of Heaven... those cultists hunted them down mercilessly.
He was just a child.
Watching his companions die under magic attacks... what could the weak do?
Run.
They could only run.
Run fast.
Very fast.
...
This was Racer's wish, his pain, and the origin of his magic—to possess speed faster than anyone else, so he wouldn't be caught, so he wouldn't die...
With his childhood trauma torn open by the taunt, Racer could no longer suppress the rage in his heart.
"YOU BASTARDS!"
Racer abandoned his composure.
He charged toward Lyon at breakneck speed.
'Speed doesn't give me power? You think I'm weak?!'
"Let me show you—with this speed, I can do more than just run," Racer screamed, his eyes bloodshot behind his visor.
"I CAN KILL!!"
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