Noah did not even bother turning around.
He simply released a pulse of magic, and a thick stone wall erupted from the ground behind him in an instant, stopping the charging ice dragon head-on.
Then he flicked two fingers.
“Rock Barrage!”
The stone wall shattered into dozens of evenly cut blocks.
They spread into an irregular formation in midair before launching forward like cannon shells, smashing the ice dragon into hundreds of fragments.
As the name implied, Word Magic drew its power from the words Noah invoked.
Gesturing like this did not actually make his spells faster or stronger.
He was simply doing it because it looked cool.
Only then did Noah glance back toward Gray’s fight.
Gray was already covered in wounds and lying facedown on the ground, while Lyon looked only slightly worse for wear.
Noah stared.
‘Seriously?
You lost that fast?’
‘Gray, that’s pathetic.
Do you really have to get beaten half to death before you power up?’
Noah did care about his guildmates, so despite having his own opponent to deal with, he had been keeping an eye on both of the other battles.
Cana and Loke’s opponents were troublesome, but the two of them had Magic Items made by Noah, so he had never been particularly worried.
They could win, and they could probably make the fight look good while doing it.
Gray and Lyon’s battle, on the other hand, had been much more traditional.
In simple terms, the two of them had started by recreating the sparring matches they used to have as fellow disciples years ago.
That naturally led into a lengthy argument about casting Ice-Make with one hand versus two, after which Lyon finally revealed his goal and blamed Gray for Ur’s death, leaving Gray crushed by guilt.
If Noah had to summarize the entire exchange, it went something like this:
“Long time no see. Let’s see how much you’ve improved.”
“I can’t fight you!”
“What, guilt stopping you? Then quit getting in my way while I revive Deliora.”
“No! That ice is all Ur left behind!”
“You’re still using both hands to cast after all these years?”
“One-handed Ice-Make is unstable. Ur taught us that.”
“I can cast with one hand, which means I’m stronger than you. My dream is to surpass Ur!”
“You’ll never surpass her!”
“If I revive Deliora and defeat it, I’ll prove I’m stronger than Ur!”
“Stop! That’s impossible!”
“Ur died because you challenged Deliora! Die!”
“Ur isn’t dead! That ice is Ur, and you still want to continue this ritual?”
“I already knew that!”
And then—
Stab.
Lyon drove the point home.
Gray went down.
The actual battle had naturally included far more magic, shouting, emotional baggage, expensive-looking effects, flashbacks, and dramatic revelations.
By the end of it, Gray was badly injured while Lyon had suffered only minor wounds.
It sounded like a lot when summarized afterward, but the whole thing had taken maybe ten minutes.
Even Noah was surprised.
He had only spent a short while dealing with Ultear, and Gray had already lost?
‘Weren’t you bragging about how strong you were?’
‘This is useless.’
After two seconds of silence, Noah finally spoke.
“Gray.”
Gray twitched.
“I seem to remember telling you that if you lost, I’d help them finish the Moon Drip ritual.”
Gray froze.
“???”
Then his eyes widened.
“!!!”
How could the deuteragonist of the original story possibly stay defeated here?
Pure stubbornness dragged Gray back to his feet.
“I know…”
He swayed, but still raised his hands.
“Lyon! This fight isn’t over yet!”
Then he snapped toward Noah.
“And don’t interfere! I can handle him myself!”
Lyon looked back at him, and for the briefest moment, something almost like pride appeared in his eyes.
“You can still stand? Fine. I take back what I said earlier.”
A faint smile crossed his face.
“You’ve improved quite a bit too, Gray.”
Gray gritted his teeth.
“Then wake the hell up already!”
Lyon’s expression immediately hardened again.
“No one is going to stop me from achieving my dream!”
Noah shook his head.
‘What a shame.’
This was a hot-blooded shonen world.
Unless you were the protagonist, dreams had a terrible survival rate.
Gray and Lyon clashed again.
This time, their fight moved from a brutal exchange of punches into a full contest between their respective forms of Ice-Make.
Weapons against beasts.
One creation after another tore across the ruins.
A great bow fired into a flock of ice falcons.
A giant ape smashed apart an enormous hammer.
An ice cage trapped a charging tiger.
A wolf king tore into a battle axe.
A spear pierced through a leopard.
A flying dragon crashed into a cannon.
The whole thing began to resemble some bizarre magical version of Sun Wukong trading transformations with Erlang Shen.
Twenty minutes later, after an exhausting series of Ice-Make exchanges and a generous helping of Fairy Tail’s usual protagonist-grade determination, Lyon finally made a mistake.
One-handed Ice-Make was inherently less stable.
And when a technique lacked stability, sooner or later it would fail at the worst possible moment.
As if the universe itself wanted to prove the point, Lyon’s ice construct faltered at a critical instant.
One mistake was all Gray needed.
He seized the opening.
An enormous ice cannon formed before him and fired point-blank.
The blast struck Lyon cleanly.
The fight was over.
By then, Loke and Cana had already finished their own battle and joined the others.
Every one of Lyon’s followers had been defeated.
At least under normal circumstances, the Moon Drip ritual should no longer have been able to continue.
“Hah… hah…”
Lyon dropped to his knees.
His body was covered in wounds, and blood stained much of his exposed skin, but the frustration and bitterness in his expression seemed to hurt him more than any physical injury.
“I never thought… I’d lose to you.”
“Give it up, Lyon,” Gray said.
His voice had softened now that the fighting was over.
“Stop the ritual. Ur… wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
Even after everything Lyon had done, Gray still could not bring himself to truly hate him.
If possible, he genuinely wanted his senior disciple to find a way out of the obsession that had trapped him for so many years.
Lyon lowered his head.
“You won’t convince me.”
Gray frowned.
“Even if the plan fails this time… even if it takes another three years, I’ll keep performing Moon Drip.”
He clenched one fist against the ground.
“I will defeat Deliora.”
“And I will surpass Ur.” Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Gray’s gaze shifted toward Ultear, who stood some distance away.
“Then who is that person? Another one of your allies?”
“Hmph.”
Lyon turned his head away and refused to answer.
Noah watched from the side and nearly sighed.
‘You really have no idea who you’re looking at, do you?’
‘That’s your master’s daughter, idiot.’
Ultear was still perfectly committed to her eccentric role as Zalty.
“Hehehe… I already knew you couldn’t complete the plan by yourself.”
She glanced at Lyon.
“But I must admit, I didn’t expect you to lose to that boy.”
Lyon remained silent.
Gray turned toward her.
“You want Deliora revived too?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Ultear replied lightly.
“Such a powerful demon has been sealed away all this time. Isn’t that a terrible waste?”
Gray grabbed at his hair in frustration.
“Seriously, do any of you even understand what you’re doing?! What exactly do you gain from bringing Deliora back?”
He pointed around at the defeated Mages.
“Lyon lost. Everyone helping with the ritual is down. You’re the only one left, so Moon Drip can’t continue anymore!”
Ultear’s smile widened.
“Lost?”
She chuckled.
“What are you talking about?”
“The ritual never stopped.”
Gray’s head snapped upward.
Only then did he notice the violet light still pouring down from the sky.
The Moon Drip was continuing.
Gray stared at it in disbelief.
The ritual had never stopped.
Which meant that while he had been fighting Lyon…
His eyes slowly shifted toward Noah.
‘What the hell were you doing this whole time?’
‘Watching the scenery?’
“How?” Gray demanded.
“There’s nobody left maintaining the ritual! Why is the conversion still happening?”
He glared at Ultear.
“Is this your doing?”
Realizing what was happening, Gray immediately tried to rush forward and stop it himself.
A blast of ice struck him from behind before he could move more than a few steps.
Gray crashed back to the ground.
Lyon forced himself upright, raising one hand toward him despite the condition of his body.
“Well done, Zalty!”
His voice was strained, but triumphant.
“Keep the ritual going!”
He still had not fallen.
Gray tried to stand again, but his body had finally reached its limit.
After the repeated exchanges with Lyon, he had almost no stamina left.
What little magic power remained inside him was nowhere near enough for another serious fight.
If Lyon had been his only opponent, Gray might still have found some way to force himself onward.
But Zalty’s strength was completely unknown, and unlike Gray and Lyon, he appeared to have plenty of stamina and magic power left.
At this point, fighting was no longer an option.
Gray could only try one thing.
Talk.
End of Chapter 15