6-10

Chapter 6: The Path of Training  

A domineering declaration, delivered in a magnetic, authoritative voice that oozed regal charm.  

Rayne was certain—if this were his past life, such a tone would’ve attracted legions of people with… particular tastes.  

"Good thing I’m not one of them."  

Shaking off the thought, he turned his attention back to Ddraig.  

"Do you know anything about this world?"  

"Some fragments, but only enough to confirm it’s not my original world."  

Her voice carried a subtle shift in tone.  

As one of the former Heavenly Dragons, she was well aware that multiple worlds existed.  

The realms of Heaven and the Underworld, for instance—places she’d frequented.  

And then there was the domain of the being who stood above even her, a space nestled within the crevices between worlds.  

So, being pulled into another world didn’t faze her.  

What did catch her off guard was the sheer audacity of the summoning—ripping her away from her destined host, severing that bond with unrelenting force.  

Yet she felt no anger.  

"Domination" was her creed. If fate itself had been overridden by a greater tyranny, then so be it.  

For now, she’d observe.  

She’d see if this little host of hers had the resolve to bear the hatred festering within the legacy of the Red Dragon Emperors.  

"You’ve asked your questions, brat. Now it’s my turn—tell me of this world’s strongest."  

Her low, smoldering voice simmered like a volcano on the brink of eruption. The emerald gem on the gauntlet pulsed rapidly, its crimson glow deepening.  

Rayne’s own blood surged in response.  

"I’m being influenced…"  

Noticing the shift in his emotions, he frowned.  

Even as a soul, a being of Ddraig’s caliber could unconsciously sway her wielder’s psyche—especially when her emotions ran high.  

Of course, his young body and underdeveloped magic resistance didn’t help.  

He didn’t mind the battle-lust—in combat, it’d be an asset.  

But in daily life?  

Hard pass. He had no interest in turning into a hotheaded idiot like Natsu.  

Still, he couldn’t blame her. Suppressing the rising fervor, he answered:  

"I know a little. Acnologia—a black dragon."  

Unlike with his guildmates, Rayne saw no reason to hide this from Ddraig.  

She’d be his partner in growth, after all. Some secrets were better shared early.  

"Oh? A black dragon?"  

Ddraig’s voice dripped with intrigue. She’d expected vague rumors, not a concrete lead.  

"Yes. The dragons here can devour magic and matter aligned with their element. That one… consumes all attributes."  

Rayne’s gaze sharpened as he studied the gauntlet.  

If they ever faced Acnologia, Ddraig might be their trump card.  

(Assuming, of course, he didn’t summon an even stronger dragon by then.)  

"Hmph! ‘Devours all attributes’? Sounds like the weaklings he fought just didn’t hit hard enough!"  

Ddraig’s scoff radiated disdain.  

As the embodiment of supremacy, she’d never concede defeat without a fight.  

In her mind, any "absorption" had limits—overwhelm it with sheer force, and the gimmick crumbled.  

"Maybe…"  

Rayne didn’t commit to an answer.  

If Acnologia’s immunity was purely physical, then yes, overwhelming power could break through.  

But if it was conceptual?  

Then brute strength alone wouldn’t cut it.  

Their exchange continued, with Ddraig gaining a clearer picture of this world and Rayne confirming that—aside from the gender-swap—her original realm remained largely unchanged.  

A decent first conversation, all things considered.  

But talking wasn’t enough. Rayne needed to test the Sacred Gear’s power.  

Theory paled next to firsthand experience.  

Slipping on his shoes, he stepped into the center of the room and clenched his draconic gauntlet.  

"BOOST!!!"  

Ddraig’s war cry erupted from the emerald gem, a declaration of battle that sent tremors through the air.  

Power surged from the gauntlet, flooding Rayne’s veins. Every muscle fiber ignited with newfound vitality, thrumming with raw energy.  

The rush was intoxicating.  

He ached for a fight—a worthy opponent to unleash this fury upon.  

"Stamina’s draining fast… and my body’s swelling to its limits."  

Suppressing the battle-high, he focused on analyzing the strain.  

"But the real issue is the mental pressure."  

At a single Boost, the effect was negligible.  

But he knew—with each multiplier, the hatred embedded in the gear would gnaw deeper.  

The lingering grudges of past hosts, seeping into his psyche.  

Just as the next Boost loomed, Rayne deactivated the gauntlet.  

"Tch. You’ve got a long way to go, brat."  

Ddraig’s taunt was velvet-wrapped steel.  

Rayne didn’t argue.  

"I know. I’ll train my body and magic—neither can be neglected."  

No excuses. No blaming his childish physique.  

A stronger body = greater Boosts.  

Deeper magic reserves = longer summonings.  

And beyond that?  

Combat skills. Discipline. Willpower.  

The path ahead crystallized in his mind.  

Whether for vengeance against the Black Magic Cult or to never again watch loved ones die helplessly—  

He. Would. Improve.  

The fire in his eyes burned brighter than the room’s lamplight, resolve hardening like tempered steel.  

"Oh?"  

Ddraig, attuned to his spirit, smirked within the gauntlet’s abyss.  

"Not bad. Very well—I’ll look forward to seeing how far you go, my little host~"  

(Quietly, she mused: If he could summon her across worlds, others would surely follow.  

And with that power?  

Unless he fell to mediocrity—or an early grave—he’d become a force to reckon with.  

A conqueror spanning realms.)  

Chapter 7: Settling In  

The next morning, Rayne woke up early, washed up, and jogged toward the guild.  

Even in the early hours, the summer sun already carried a hint of heat. Golden light draped over Magnolia’s streets like a shimmering veil. The murmur of pedestrians filled the air as the city slowly stirred to life.  

A few passersby noticed the unfamiliar boy running under the sunlight. At first, they looked surprised—but then they spotted the emblem on the back of his hand.  

Ah. That explains it.  

People from that guild could do just about anything without it being strange.  

"Such stereotypes!" Rayne grumbled internally at their reactions.  

Still, he didn’t slow down. Following the route he’d memorized the night before, he soon arrived at the guildhall.  

The front door wasn’t fully closed, left slightly ajar. As Rayne approached, the pungent smell of alcohol hit his nose.  

"Did they all pass out drunk?"  

His expression turned wry—but considering who they were, it wasn’t exactly shocking.  

(He didn’t realize he had just stereotyped them the same way.)  

Pushing the door open, sunlight spilled into the dim interior, revealing the aftermath of last night’s chaos.  

Tables were overturned. Barrels lay on their sides. Empty mugs littered the surfaces, and sticky puddles of half-dried booze coated the floor.  

And then there were the bodies—a tangled heap of grown men piled atop each other like casualties of war.  

Laxus was among them, though he’d at least managed to curl up alone in a corner.  

Rayne didn’t need to have been there to guess what happened.  

"Knowing his personality, he probably got provoked into joining the drinking contest."  

"At least they don’t have a ‘naked wrestling’ habit."  

He shuddered at the mental image.  

His gaze shifted to Makarov, who was hugging a barrel like a teddy bear, one hand absently scratching his belly before he muttered something in his sleep.  

"Hey there, Rayne! You’re up early!"  

A cheerful voice came from behind him, followed by an exasperated sigh as the newcomer took in the scene.  

"I get that they were excited about a new member, but did they really have to go this hard...?"  

Rayne turned to see a young woman—one of the guild members from last night.  

"Oh right, I’m Caroline! Just call me by my name. Or ‘big sis’ if you’re feeling sweet~" She grinned, rubbing the back of her head.  

"Morning, Caroline." Rayne offered a small smile, politely sidestepping the "big sis" suggestion.  

"Aww, no fun." She pouted playfully. "Wait here for a sec—and cover your ears."  

"Huh?"  

Before he could ask why, Caroline expertly weaved through the wreckage, took a deep breath—  

—and Rayne felt the magic particles in the air surge.  

Realization struck. He immediately clamped his hands over his ears.  

"WAKE UUUUUUP!!!"  

The entire building shook. Dust rained from the ceiling as Caroline’s voice tore through the guild like a dragon’s roar.  

Even with his ears covered, Rayne’s skull vibrated from the sheer volume.  

"GYAAAAH!!" 

"CAROLINE, WHAT THE HELL?!" 

"Five more minutes…" 

"WHO STUCK THEIR FOOT IN MY MOUTH?!"  

"You idiots! You wanna embarrass yourselves in front of the new kid?!" Hands on her hips, Caroline transformed into a full-on drill sergeant, her earlier cheerfulness nowhere to be seen.  

Bleary eyes turned toward the entrance—where Rayne stood, silently watching.  

"This is all YOUR fault!!" Laxus snarled, face burning at the thought of his rival seeing him like this.  

"Hmph. Quite the lively bunch," Dreyfus’s amused voice echoed in Rayne’s mind.  

If the rest of the world woke up gently, Fairy Tail’s awakening was more like a bomb going off.  

———  

Despite the hangovers, recovery was swift for a guild of mages. Within an hour, the hall was spotless again.  

"Ahem." Makarov cleared his throat, his pride still bruised from last night’s display.  

(He’d meant to discipline them, but somehow he ended up blackout drunk instead. So much for setting a good example.)  

"Rayne, you—" He paused, studying the boy with mild surprise.  

Sure, Rayne was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, but his face was fresh, his posture alert. More importantly—his eyes.  

That hollow look from before was gone, replaced by a sharp, determined glint.  

"You slept well, I take it?"  

"Yeah. Porlyusica’s medicine helped."  

Between the long walk, testing the Boosted Gear’s limits, and the mental strain, Rayne had collapsed into bed the second he took the gauntlet off.  

Maybe due to his enhanced physique, the lingering effects of the potion had accelerated his recovery. Not even a hint of soreness remained.  

"Good." Makarov nodded, though he knew no medicine worked that well.  

But everyone had secrets. As long as they didn’t harm the guild, he wouldn’t pry.  

"Rayne, you know our guild takes on jobs for pay. But you’re still too young, and your magic..." He trailed off, choosing his words carefully. "For now, you’ll assist with guild tasks."  

"Understood."  

Rayne wasn’t foolish enough to demand dangerous missions yet. Laying low was the priority.  

As for chores? No issue.  

He wasn’t shameless enough to freeload—not when Makarov was offering training too.  

"Good attitude." The guild master smiled. "Follow me."  

Leading Rayne through the back door, they emerged beside a wide, sunlit river. A crisp breeze ruffled Rayne’s hair as the water glittered under the morning light.  

Makarov stopped, turning to face him with a solemn expression.  

"Now… about your magic."  

——— 

Chapter 8: Magic Is a Miracle!  

"If you awakened that kind of magic, it means it’s the one most suited to you."  

Makarov’s pupils trembled slightly as he recalled the soaring white dragon. The sheer presence of it still shook him.  

"The more you resist it, the stronger its backlash will be. The only way to control it is to accept it first."  

His voice softened, shedding the usual mischief of a cheeky old man—or the drunken fool he sometimes played. Now, he spoke as a seasoned wizard, a scholar of magic.  

"But that comes later. First, you need to hone your fundamentals."  

He paced, hands clasped behind his back.  

"And… find another magic that aligns with your innate mana, one you can use as a cover."  

"I already have an idea," Rayne said, breaking his silence.  

Makarov stopped mid-step, eyebrows rising. "Oh? Let’s hear it."  

His gaze was warm. After everything—the village incident, Rayne’s sharp retort to Laxus, and the transformation overnight—he could no longer treat this child as naive.  

"Requip Magic."  

The words left Rayne’s lips calmly, though the idea had struck him like lightning.  

The Red Dragon Emperor’s Gauntlet. He couldn’t abandon it—not when it grew alongside him. But how to use it without exposing his secret?  

Then Makarov’s words had sparked the answer: Erza Scarlet’s magic.  

Requip: The Knight—storing weapons and armor in another dimension, summoning them instantly. On the surface, it resembled summoning magic. If Rayne mastered even a basic form of Requip, wielding the gauntlet would seem natural.  

"Requip?" Makarov’s eyes narrowed. It was a Holder-Type magic, technically fitting Rayne’s "summoning" claim from last night. But…  

"Your training will be brutal. Are you sure?"  

Most wizards focused purely on spells and mana. Requip demanded physical mastery—relentless conditioning of body and magic. For a child, it bordered on cruel.  

Rayne didn’t flinch. "Yes."  

A firm nod, eyes locked onto Makarov’s. The old man sighed, then grinned.  

"Fine. Don’t expect me to go easy."  

"Tell me, Rayne—what’s your first thought about magic?"  

Unlike Laxus, raised in the guild, Rayne was self-taught. Makarov had to start from zero.  

Understanding magic came before wielding it.  

Rayne paused, recalling the absurdities of this world’s magic: reversing time, devouring space, reshaping continents… Feats even his old world’s science couldn’t touch.  

It was…  

"…A miracle." The word slipped out unbidden.  

Makarov’s face lit up. "Exactly! Magic is a miracle!"  

He leaned in, voice thrumming with fervor.  

"Your Dragon Origin magic didn’t awaken by chance. It was inevitable."  

"Magic is born from our strongest emotions—desires, bonds, willpower. If that fire never dies, it defies logic and rewrites reality!"  

His finger jabbed toward Rayne’s chest.  

"Your magic answered when your heart screamed ‘I want to protect!’ loud enough to shake the world!"  

Rayne blinked.  

…Did I really do something that grand?  

A snort echoed in his mind—the Red Dragon Empress.  

"Hah! This old man’s dramatic. But… interesting. In my world, magic just is. Here, it’s felt?"  

Makarov continued, oblivious.  

"But miracles can burn you too. Like how you collapsed from overuse."  

"Master control, and you’ll stop before breaking. So—your first lesson!"  

He raised a finger.  

"Tame your mana. Make it obey your will. Do this, and you’re halfway there."  

One month later  

In Fairy Tail’s backyard, Rayne stood still, a sphere of light—no larger than a ping-pong ball—zipping around him like a comet.  

Then—it froze.  

The orb hovered perfectly above his palm, momentum vanishing in an instant. The shift from blinding speed to absolute stillness messed with the eyes.  

"Impressive. Just a month, and your mana control’s already this refined."  

Makarov didn’t hold back his praise. Most took half a year to reach this level.  

Rayne had trained relentlessly: dawn till dusk, mana drills and physical conditioning. His clothes often dripped with sweat, muscles aching—but his focus never wavered.  

Now, his control surpassed most guild mages.  

With a flick, Rayne dispersed the orb into motes of light. His gaze sharpened as he turned to Makarov.  

"Guild Master. Let me try it."  

Chapter 9: Kanna Kamui  

"Hmm... Given your current state, it should be safe to try."  

Makarov stroked his beard, pondering for a moment before nodding in approval.  

"But the moment you feel something's wrong, you stop immediately."  

His tone turned stern as he fixed Rayne with a serious look.  

From what he'd observed, Rayne wasn't the reckless type—if anything, the boy was too disciplined for his age.  

But summoning magic was no joke.  

Better to be safe than sorry.  

"Understood."  

Suppressing his excitement, Rayne nodded.  

Within him, Ddraig sharpened her senses, equally curious—both about the nature of this magic and which dragon would answer the call.  

As Rayne activated his magic again, he immediately noticed the difference from his first attempt in the dorm.  

Back then, it had been pure instinct—an unstoppable surge.  

Now, it felt like holding a remote control. Start. Stop. All at his will.  

Mana flowed smoothly under his command, and soon, he sensed a connection forming—  

An image of a white-scaled dragon, curled up peacefully, flickered in his mind.  

Kanna Kamui. In her true form.  

All he had to do was complete the summoning, and she'd cross into this world.  

But Rayne hesitated.  

"Kanna?"  

Instead of finalizing the spell, he reached out mentally.  

Over the past weeks, he hadn't just trained—he'd studied [Dragon’s Origin].  

One thought had nagged him:  

If summoning her full form drains my mana instantly... what if she came in a human shape instead?  

Now, with better control and Makarov as backup, it was time to test his theory.  

In the vision, the white dragon stirred, tilting her head in confusion when she found no one around.  

Then—  

"Rayne! Are we playing?"  

A bright, childlike voice echoed in his mind.  

Rayne’s lips curled into a grin. It worked.  

"Can you come in human form? My mana can’t sustain your true body for long."  

He kept his mental voice calm, but anticipation thrummed through him.  

If this succeeded, it would revolutionize how he used [Dragon’s Origin].  

The magic had limits—his soul’s "vessel" could only bond with one dragon and one item at his current level.  

But the real prize wasn’t the summons themselves.  

It was the feedback.  

The deeper his bond with a dragon grew, the more their draconic essence would strengthen him—enhancing his mana, body, and soul.  

And this wasn’t a one-time deal.  

As his soul grew stronger, he could form new bonds, stacking the benefits.  

That was the true power of [Dragon’s Origin].  

Summons were tools.  

This was evolution.  

"Mm!"  

The dragon nodded eagerly. Light engulfed her massive form, shrinking it rapidly.  

Meanwhile, in the real world—  

"Why’s it taking so long?"  

Makarov frowned, watching Rayne stand motionless.  

The boy’s mana was stable, but the prolonged silence was unnerving. Just as he debated interrupting—  

Whoosh!  

Rayne’s magic flared abruptly.  

A pale magic circle—etched with that strange branching pattern—lit up beneath his feet.  

"Wait, is he summoning it HERE?!"  

Makarov’s eyes bulged. He’d assumed this was just a control exercise—not an actual summoning!  

Images of a giant dragon crashing through the guild hall flashed through his mind.  

"Damn kid’s as unpredictable as the others..."  

He groaned, glancing around. At least they were in the back courtyard, with the ocean behind them.  

Maybe no one would notice—  

Then the light faded.  

No towering beast. No chaos.  

Just... silence.  

"Huh?"  

Makarov blinked, scanning the skies. Nothing.  

"Human~ Should I beat him up?"  

A tiny, deadpan voice piped up from ground level.  

"What?"  

Makarov looked down.  

And met a pair of sapphire-blue eyes—deep, calm, and utterly inhuman.  

"Those eyes...?"  

A strange sense of déjà vu hit him. Where had he seen them before?  

Shaking it off, he finally took in the girl’s full appearance:  

Snow-white horns, curved like crescent moons.  

A long, swaying tail.  

And an outfit unlike anything in Fiore.  

"A Take Over mage?"  

That was his first thought. While Fiore had all sorts of oddities, physical traits like these usually meant monster-possession magic.  

"Kanna, the Master’s a friend."  

Rayne’s voice was lighter now, a faint smile on his lips.  

It worked.  

The mana drain was steady but manageable—nowhere near the catastrophic cost of summoning her true form.  

Now, all that remained was deepening their bond.  

"A hatchling? But her energy’s no joke."  

Ddraig’s voice purred with approval. Even as a juvenile, Kanna’s power was formidable—enough to rival high-tier beings in her world.  

"Pity I lack a body, and she’s still growing. Otherwise, I’d love a duel."  

There was a hint of regret in her tone—though she’d never actually fight a child.  

That’d just be embarrassing.  

"Rayne... IS SHE THAT DRAGON?!"  

Makarov’s shout tore through the courtyard, his jaw practically hitting the ground.  

The pieces had clicked.  

Those eyes. That presence.  

The white-scaled behemoth from the forest—now in the form of a small, horned girl.  

Rayne just smiled.  

"Meet Kanna Kamui."  

Chapter 10: Makarov Stands Frozen  

A child who’d appeared out of nowhere—with white horns and a tail.  

After the initial shock, Makarov’s mind immediately connected her to the white dragon he’d seen earlier.  

"Yeah, her name’s Kanna."  

Rayne kept a firm grip on the little fist of the restless dragon girl, who was practically vibrating with energy.  

Kanna herself didn’t find it strange that this human knew her name.  

After all, the moment she’d been summoned, she’d instinctively learned his name too.  

She just… wasn’t inclined to use it yet.  

"She’s a dragon whelp ?!"  

Makarov’s voice climbed an octave as he stared at the small girl, who was now squirming under Rayne’s hold, her head swiveling like an owl’s.  

"Well… by dragon standards, she’s a child. By human ones? She’s probably older than your entire bloodline."  

Rayne’s tone was light, almost teasing.  

In truth, he had no idea how to contextualize 14,000 years.  

He wasn’t even sure what this world had looked like that far back.  

"...Dragons, huh."  

The way Rayne dodged giving an exact number told Makarov all he needed to know.  

If a baby dragon has this much magic… what kind of monsters were the adults?  

And why did such beings vanish from the world?  

Questions swirled in his mind—  

—before being unceremoniously tossed aside.  

Because right now?  

There was a far more pressing matter.  

Namely, the round-cheeked, horned child in front of him.  

"Hey there, little one. Your name’s Kanna, right?"  

Makarov’s face crinkled into a grandfatherly smile.  

Most of his guild was made up of rowdy brutes. A tiny, actually tiny girl?  

That was precious.  

Never mind that this "little girl" was an ancient dragon who could outlive them all.  

Her sheer adorableness overwrote any logical concerns.  

Kanna’s wandering gaze finally settled on Makarov.  

Her blue, gem-like eyes were unreadable.  

Then—  

She wriggled her hand free from Rayne’s grip and toddled toward the guild master.  

No hostility radiated from the dragon’s core, so Rayne let her go.  

Kanna stopped just in front of Makarov, who was now grinning like a delighted prune.  

"I’m—"  

Before he could finish, Kanna raised her hand.  

Touched one of her horns.  

Then, with solemn precision, held her palm flat above Makarov’s head—  

—before sliding it horizontally to her own height, just a centimeter higher than his.  

The message was unmistakable.  

Makarov’s words died in his throat.  

He stood frozen, as if petrified.  

"You’re the little one."  

Kanna’s voice was soft but triumphant.  

Satisfied, she lowered her hand and marched toward the river, her tail swaying behind her like a self-satisfied cat’s.  

Her face might’ve been blank, but Rayne could feel her glee.  

Whether it was from "winning" the height contest or simply enjoying this new world’s novelty, he couldn’t tell.  

Glancing at the still-paralyzed guild master, Rayne pressed his lips into a thin line.  

"Ahem."  

Makarov coughed awkwardly, eyes darting anywhere but at Rayne.  

"This form doesn’t consume much magic. She can maintain it for long periods."  

Rayne mercifully steered the conversation onward.  

"In that case, you can summon her often."  

Regaining his composure, Makarov nodded sagely.  

"Fighting alongside your summons requires familiarity. The better you sync, the deadlier you’ll be."  

To him, summoning magic wasn’t so different from Holder-Type Magic—knowing your "weapon’s" quirks was key to mastery.  

Even if this particular "weapon" was a tiny, horned girl.  

Rayne had already been considering how to keep Kanna around. Makarov’s approval gave him an opening.  

"But how do we explain her… existence?"  

Horns and tail could be handwaved as Take Over magic.  

But her identity?  

That needed a cover story.  

Both of them stared at the small figure now crouched by the riverbank, deep in thought—  

—when WHOOSH.  

Kanna’s hand blurred into the water.  

When she pulled it back, she was clutching a thrashing fish nearly the size of her arm.  

The water hadn’t even rippled yet.  

The fish flailed wildly—until Kanna chomped down with an audible "Om-nom."  

Then she went right back to stalking the river, like a bear waiting for salmon.  

"...Let’s just say we found her floating down the river in a basket."  

Rayne’s voice was flat.  

Even knowing what Kanna was, seeing it in action was… something.  

"That works."  

Makarov didn’t hesitate.  

The image fit alarmingly well—a child with "Take Over" traits, abandoned and left to drift.  

"Great. The rest is up to you, then."  

As Kanna prepared for Round Two of fish hunting, Rayne strode over.  

"Kanna. Want to go eat real food?"  

Crouching beside her, he tilted his head.  

A month of training—plus three daily meals at the guild—meant his first paycheck was still untouched.  

He could afford to be generous.  

"YES."  

No hesitation. Her tiny hand shot up, eyes sparkling like she’d been offered the moon.  

"Heh. Let’s go."  

Standing, Rayne took her hand and led her toward town.  

"Wait! I haven’t figured out the details yet!"  

Makarov’s shout followed them.  

"Just wing it~"  

Rayne’s reply was sing-song, his back already turned.  

"That damn brat…"  

Makarov chuckled, watching the two walk away—one tall, one small, looking for all the world like siblings.  

Shaking his head, he followed.  

Rayne was right.  

No one would pry too hard.  

Probably.  

But when the trio stepped into the guild hall—  

—the entire room fell silent.  

Every eye locked onto them, brimming with questions.