Before the light had even faded, August swung his staff and fired a golden beam that punched clean through a large tree to the left, detonating whatever was behind it.
Precht came out of the explosion before it had finished, sword raised.
"Amaterasu: Formula 100!"
Layers of purple magic circles closed around August and detonated simultaneously. The entire stretch of forest shook. August's figure disappeared inside the blast, swallowed by flame and dust. The sound rolled through the city.
Precht was confident the strike had landed. He felt no relief. He was already pulling back.
He didn't get far before he recognized the pattern assembling around him. His own magic circle. The exact design, forming in the air at his position.
"What?!"
He clasped his hands together and forced up his defensive magic. The circle activated at the same moment. The explosion it produced was equal to his own Formula 100 in every measurable way.
The two blasts merged and died almost simultaneously, leaving two craters of roughly the same size side by side.
Precht wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, pulled off what remained of his cloak, and looked across at August.
The old man stood in the settling dust, leaning on his staff, his body now suffused with deep crimson, pale yellow lines running across his face and arms. His outer robes were gone, revealing a frame that looked nothing like that of a man approaching a hundred years old.
What stopped Precht cold was that August was completely uninjured.
"Impossible."
He was certain August had not used a single defensive spell. Was there anyone alive who could absorb a Formula 100 direct hit without a scratch? Something about this state had to be the explanation. But this was enemy territory and there was no time to investigate.
Precht pushed both hands forward. Two dark purple chains shot out, one wrapping around August, the other driving toward his chest. Without waiting to see the result, he turned and moved.
August's voice carried after him, mildly curious.
"Interestingly enough. I know this magic as well."
Precht looked back.
The chains he had fired were disintegrating on contact with August's body. And from the tip of August's staff, two dark purple chains identical to his own were already in motion.
Could it be.
A copied magic circle was one thing. That alone didn't constitute proof of anything unique. But these chains, combined with the concealment technique from before, and the Formula 100.
Precht pushed the thought aside and moved, pulling left and right to avoid the pursuing chains. When it became clear that August's control over them was equivalent to his own, he had no choice but to meet force with force. He launched identical chains to counter.
Four dark chains collided and tangled, their struggle generating a rolling whirlwind before they cancelled each other out.
From somewhere nearby, Ajeel's voice burst through the settling dust, full of delight.
"Ahaha! The old man always says I make too much noise. Look who's making more noise now!"
"Troublesome."
Precht swept his gaze around the area. He wasn't looking toward the laughter. He was looking somewhere else entirely, somewhere very quiet, from which a cold pressure was moving steadily toward him.
Invel Yura approached at a measured pace, adjusting his glasses.
"Be serious, Ajeel. Allowing a spy to escape without difficulty reflects poorly on the Twelve."
Precht's mind was running hard through escape options. Given the current situation, breaking through the two younger members was clearly the better path. And between the two, the one using sand was probably the less dangerous choice.
He felt a faint pressure at his neck.
Invel Yura's entire body seemed to relax, as though a conclusion had already been reached.
"You've arrived, Dimaria."
Dimaria.
Precht's pupils contracted.
A blonde female knight was standing directly in front of him, sword in hand, the tip of the blade resting against his throat.
When?
He had no idea how she had gotten there. She had simply appeared.
No spatial distortion. Nothing.
"Space magic?"
His first thought was of the boy named Mest back in Ishgar. But this woman's magical output was in a completely different category. Even if they were using the same principle, the effect was far beyond what Mest could produce.
And yet, there were no spatial fluctuations at all. What he was sensing was something else. Something familiar from a different angle entirely.
"Stop struggling, old man." Dimaria smiled pleasantly. "Killing you takes seconds."
Precht threw himself backward and fired a purple magic bullet from his palm as he moved.
Before he landed, Dimaria was simply gone. The bullet passed through empty air.
No spatial fluctuation. Not even a trace.
He didn't have time to follow the thought further before a sharp pain drove through his back. A blade tip emerged from his chest.
"This is... " He coughed blood. "This isn't space. It's time."
Different from Ultear's Arc of Time, but unmistakably the same family of magic. The sensation was distinct and he knew it the moment it touched him.
Precht endured the pain and swung a chain backward.
It missed.
Dimaria reappeared in front of him, longsword driving into his stomach from the opposite direction.
Another cough. "Time magic..."
He couldn't finish the sentence. A blast of freezing air encased him completely, locking him solid.
"Hey, Invel. I wasn't finished yet." Dimaria looked over with clear disapproval. "You're really no fun at all."
"Invel acted correctly."
August landed beside the ice sculpture and added another layer of frost, then turned to Dimaria.
"He saw through your magic."
"What?"
She was genuinely surprised. She had only used it three times. How had he read it that quickly?
"So what if he did?" Ajeel said, sounding mildly irritated. "Even if I knew exactly how Dimaria's magic worked, I couldn't do anything about it."
"Don't underestimate him." August tapped the ice sculpture lightly with his staff, then turned and began walking back toward the city. The frozen block drifted along behind him.
"This man is considered one of His Majesty's disciples in terms of magical knowledge. What he understands about magic is far beyond what any of you would expect."
Dimaria frowned and fell into step beside him.
Could this old man actually break free of her magic?
...
Magnolia. The Fairy Tail guild hall.
Rhodes went upstairs first. Natsu followed behind him with a torch in his left hand and a brazier in the other, muttering as he walked.
"Why are you calling me up now? I wasn't even done eating."
Rhodes looked at him. "There's something I need to tell you. And it's time."
Natsu caught something in his expression and pulled his attention together.
"What is it?"
"It concerns END."