"Arc of Embodiment?"
As Shane led the group into the dense fog swallowing London, the foul, murky air rushed over them. He turned his head, his gaze landing on the black-haired girl beside him, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"A Lost Magic from the same system as your Arc of Time?"
"That's right."
Ultear gave a small nod, her tone calm.
"It's one of the Lost Magics Hades taught as well. Put simply, it allows the caster to materialize anything they can imagine into reality."
"It demands extremely high levels of concentration and imagination, but in terms of practicality, it's absolutely on par with my Arc of Time."
As she said this, she studied the all-too-real red-brick walls around them with interest.
"So… what exactly is the principle behind this city of yours?"
It was precisely because she understood similar magic that she found this place even more unbelievable.
"You can think of it as a real projection of a fragment of history."
Shane let out a small laugh.
The two walked side by side, and the unspoken understanding that came from discussing magic instantly diluted the lingering awkwardness between them over Erza.
Unfortunately, for the two simpletons behind them, the atmosphere was pure torture.
"Ohhh!!"
The moment Natsu crossed the boundary, he looked like he'd been injected with adrenaline. He straightened up and immediately tried to charge forward.
"You idiot fire-breather! Calm down!"
Gray couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Natsu by the scarf and snapped,
"Who was the one panting like a dead dog with his tongue hanging out on the way here? Don't collapse before we even find the enemy!"
"Shut up! Even if I'm tired, I can still blast away every—"
Natsu started to argue, neck stiff with defiance.
Then he froze mid-sentence.
"Huh?"
The boy lowered his head, staring at his own palm in confusion.
Whoosh—
A hot orange-red flame burst into life there without warning.
"This is weird…"
Natsu clenched his fist hard, his knuckles cracking, confusion filling his eyes.
"My stamina… it feels like it suddenly came back?"
"Whatever! Doesn't matter!"
As expected, a single-celled organism was not built for complicated thinking.
Natsu grinned and slammed the flame at his feet.
"Since I've got energy again, I'm going on ahead!!"
Boom!
Fire exploded, and Natsu shot off into the depths of the fog like a cannonball.
"You bastard! Get back here! Don't try to cheat and get ahead!!"
The moment Gray saw Natsu shamelessly take off first, there was no way he could sit still. Cursing the whole time, he rushed after him.
In the blink of an eye, the two idiots—who hadn't even properly heard the exam rules—had vanished into the far end of the street.
…
…
"Not just me… even Natsu's condition improved?"
Shane narrowed his eyes, taking it all in.
What exactly existed in this illusion that could make a Dragon Slayer like Natsu react this way?
Considering what the two of them had in common…
"A dragon?"
A thought flashed through Shane's mind.
"Could it be… that there's some substance in this city that benefits dragons, or is highly compatible with dragon attributes?"
The moment that guess surfaced, his own body proved it for him.
"Lancer!"
Shane called the name in his heart.
In the next instant, the dagger at his waist—the one he used to suppress his aura—vanished into thin air.
A pale color spread rapidly from the roots of his hair, and in the blink of an eye, his black hair had turned snow-white.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Even without deliberately driving his magic, the heart in his chest began pounding violently of its own accord.
The heavy sound was like a war drum. With every beat, it greedily inhaled some drifting element in the air.
"It really is… exactly the same kind of dragon magic?"
Shane closed his eyes for a moment to feel it, and when he opened them again, they were full of astonished delight.
He was instantly fired up.
Based on his earlier deductions, Lancer's true name was made up of three parts.
Aside from the human side represented by "Lancelot," the "fairy" and "dragon" elements had remained completely shrouded in mystery.
And now, in Assassin's illusion, he had actually found a breakthrough.
That was an unexpected windfall!
"What's got you so excited all of a sudden?"
Ultear noticed the shift in his mood and couldn't help feeling puzzled.
The illusion could disappear at any time, yet all the composure Shane had been showing was suddenly gone. He looked like a hunter who had just discovered treasure.
He had to seize every second.
"There's something important I need to confirm!"
"You—"
Before Ultear could question him further, Shane threw out that line and vanished, sprinting straight toward the place where the dragon magic in the air was strongest.
"He'll be fine."
Watching his retreating figure, Makarov said lazily,
"That kid knows what he's doing."
"I wasn't worried about him."
Ultear folded her arms and replied coldly.
Any trace of the good mood she'd had earlier was now completely gone, thanks to how abruptly he'd run off.
…
…
As time passed, the night grew deeper.
The fog in the city seemed to come alive, growing thicker and heavier until visibility was crushed down to almost nothing.
The East End—a maze-like slum of tangled alleys.
The low laughter of men, the cheap scent of powder on women, and the sickening sounds of transactions in the shadows all multiplied unchecked beneath the cover of that fog.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Ur was walking alone through the muddy, slick alleys of the East End.
She had already tossed aside the coat that had been getting in her way, and her brow was tightly furrowed.
Even with all her years of experience traveling, it had taken her a while just to barely adjust to the oppressive atmosphere here.
"Was the world in the past… really like this?"
Ur muttered to herself, watching those underdressed street women force bright smiles onto their faces. A strange frustration rose in her chest.
And besides…
"I've been wandering around forever. Why haven't I seen this so-called murderer at all?"
Ur stopped, rubbing her neat short hair in frustration.
"Didn't Shane say… that if we searched seriously, we were bound to run into it?"
She was starting to feel discouraged.
"If Tia were here… with how smart that child is, she'd probably find a clue easily."
Even though Ultear wasn't actually skilled in magic meant for tracking or investigation, Ur still had that blind confidence only a mother could have.
Like mothers everywhere, who simply believe their child is the best.
Perhaps it was precisely that pure yet slightly misplaced emotion that, on this night steeped in malice, drew the wrong sort of thing to her.
"Hm?"
Just as Ur was about to turn and try another path, something strange caught the corner of her eye through the fog ahead.
In a blind spot where the dim yellow streetlamps couldn't reach, a small, skinny shadow stood alone, swaying faintly with the movement of the mist.
"A child?"
Ur froze.
At this hour, in a place like this, what was a child doing wandering the streets alone?
Though the situation felt strange, she was confident enough in her own strength that she didn't think too deeply about it. Instinctively, she was about to go over and tell the child to hurry home.
But in that short moment of hesitation, someone moved before she did.
It was a woman who had been crouched beneath a streetlamp in the shadows.
Her figure was thick and misshapen, her face slathered in cheap makeup so thick it looked like plaster, and the gaudy red dress she wore had been rubbed shiny from overuse.
Clearly, she was a bottom-rung streetwalker who had spent most of the night freezing and starving without getting a single customer, and had already been driven to the edge.
The moment she spotted the lone "child," she couldn't care about anything else. Twisting her waist, she hurried over.
"She's actually trying to do business with a child?!"
Seeing the figures in the fog start to exchange words, Ur's brows instantly knotted into a deep frown. Anger flared in her chest.
She stopped hesitating and strode over.
And then—
a conversation drifting through the wind reached her ears with chilling clarity.
"…Mama?"
It was a timid child's voice. In this alley overflowing with filth, it sounded painfully pure—and painfully out of place.
"Hah?!"
The fat woman, who had been getting ready to solicit, reacted like someone had stomped on an open wound. The fake smile plastered on her face instantly collapsed into disgust and irritation.
"What bastard brat is this? Don't call me that!!"
"Who the hell is your mother?"
"Damn bad luck! No business all night, and now I run into some freak kid… get lost!"
All the bitterness from a miserable life found an outlet in that instant.
The woman raised her hand, ready to slap the strange child hard across the face.
The next second—
Slash—!!
That raised hand never fell.
There was no magical light. No ringing of drawn steel.
Only a heavy, ugly sound, like wet cloth being torn apart.
And then—
warm liquid burst forth like a fountain, instantly staining the pale white fog around them…
a vivid, glaring crimson.
~~~
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