1-5

Chapter 1: The Child and the Dragon  

The quiet forest path was bathed in the fading light of dusk.  

Makarov let out a heavy sigh as he recalled the scene at the Magic Council.  

"Tch… They really laid into me this time. Don’t those guys know when to back off?"  

His face scrunched up like a dried orange peel, eyes burning with frustration.  

"When I get back, I’ll—"  

BOOM—  

Before he could finish, an overwhelming surge of magic erupted into the sky.  

The sheer pressure made the very air seem to freeze. Birds mid-flight dropped like stones, and beasts in the forest collapsed unconscious.  

"This magic… It’s insane!"  

Makarov’s pupils shrank to pinpricks as he whipped his head toward the source.  

There, standing boldly amidst the raging magic, was a being with massive wings, towering horns, and a body of immense scale.  

Its pristine white feathers shimmered with a sacred golden glow under the setting sun.  

Without a doubt—this was a creature lost to history, one that hadn’t been seen in four hundred years.  

"A… dragon!?"  

Even Makarov, a man weathered by countless storms, found himself momentarily stunned.  

But then he noticed something else.  

Atop the dragon’s head stood a small figure, their faint magical aura nearly drowned out by the dragon’s overwhelming presence.  

As if sensing his gaze, the white dragon slowly turned its head.  

Sapphire-like eyes, vast and piercing, locked onto Makarov.  

In that instant—  

The magical particles in the air grew restless.  

Flickers of golden lightning crackled around the dragon’s form.  

"Oh crap—!"  

Though he didn’t understand the situation, Makarov knew one thing: the dragon saw him as a threat.  

He opened his mouth to declare he meant no harm—  

But then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the dragon’s magic began to fade.  

Its massive body turned translucent, vanishing into the air like mist.  

The child, who should have plummeted from the sky, was instead caught in a soft pink bubble of magic, floating gently to the ground.  

"Summoning Magic…?"  

The realization struck Makarov.  

That’s why a dragon, missing for centuries, suddenly reappeared.  

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.  

The child was the priority.  

Without hesitation, Makarov sprinted toward where the bubble descended.  

When he arrived, he found a man already standing beside the unconscious boy.  

And beyond them—  

A village in ruins.  

Gaping fissures split the earth. Houses were charred black or torn apart as if by monstrous claws.  

Bodies littered the ground, staining the soil crimson.  

Survivors clutched their dead, weeping openly.  

Their occasional glances toward the boy were filled with unmistakable fear.  

"Did the dragon do this?"  

Makarov’s first thought was that the white beast had wreaked havoc.  

Hearing footsteps, the man jolted upright—only to relax slightly upon seeing Makarov’s short stature.  

That reaction made Makarov narrow his eyes.  

If the dragon had attacked, the man wouldn’t have been relieved to see me… So this wasn’t its doing.  

"I’m Makarov Dreyar, master of the Fairy Tail guild. What happened here?"  

"The master of Fairy Tail!?"  

The man’s eyes widened.  

Fairy Tail was one of Fiore’s most famous guilds—of course he’d heard of it.  

Nervous in the presence of such a renowned figure, the man hurriedly explained.  

"A Dark Guild attacked us."  

His voice cracked with grief as he spoke of the friends he’d lost.  

Makarov fell silent.  

Dark Guilds were a blight on the magical world, leaving chaos and suffering in their wake.  

Even the Magic Council struggled to eradicate them completely.  

"This boy’s parents died right in front of him… Then, out of nowhere, that huge monster appeared and slaughtered the Dark Guild members."  

Wiping his eyes, the man gestured to the child.  

He didn’t know anything about dragons—to him, it was just a monstrous savior.  

"A magical awakening…"  

Makarov murmured in understanding.  

Magic was born from the heart.  

Under extreme emotional stress, those with latent power could awaken their abilities spontaneously.  

But summoning a dragon? That’s unheard of.  

"I was friends with his parents. When I saw him fall, I came to check on him."  

The man hesitated, then looked at Makarov with desperate hope.  

"Sir… could you take him with you? You saw his magic—he’s strong!"  

"...I understand."  

Makarov didn’t need it spelled out.  

Even if the boy’s power had saved the village, humans feared what they couldn’t comprehend.  

He’d heard stories of people with Take Over magic being driven out as monsters.  

"Thank you."  

The man bowed deeply, relief washing over him.  

He’d been agonizing over what to do.  

This child was his friend’s son—he couldn’t abandon him, but keeping him here would only invite fear and conflict.  

Hearing Makarov’s title had given him an idea: entrust the boy to Fairy Tail.  

A reputable guild’s master wouldn’t mistreat a child.  

"His name is Rayne. I’ll bury his parents and talk to the villagers—we’ll keep his magic a secret."  

With one last bow, the man cast a final glance at the unconscious boy before turning back toward the ravaged village.  

There was still so much to do.  

"Sigh…"  

Makarov exhaled heavily, looking down at the child.  

Black hair, a soot-smudged face—almost comical, yet with delicate features beneath the grime.  

He draped his cloak over Rayne, then flexed his magic.  

His body swelled with power, muscles bulging as he grew to a towering size.  

Hoisting the boy onto his back, Makarov took off at a sprint—vanishing into the distance in seconds.  

Moving rubble wouldn’t help this village.  

His priority now was to alert the nearest garrison and send aid.  

Chapter 2: This Is Fairy Tail!  

Rayne slowly opened his eyes, greeted by an unfamiliar wooden ceiling.  

A strange, pungent odor hung in the air.  

"Ugh… it stinks…"  

His small face scrunched up like a sour orange, his voice thick with disgust.  

Still, beneath the foul smell, the throbbing pressure in his head—caused by absorbing his past-life memories—had eased somewhat.  

Sitting up, Rayne glanced around the room.  

It was simple and sparse, with two or three small wooden beds—one of which he’d been occupying. A long strip of white cloth was tied and draped in the middle.  

A gentle breeze carried fresh air through the window, and sunlight streamed in, illuminating specks of dust floating like tiny spirits.  

This was unmistakably a place for the wounded.  

Outside, muffled voices could be heard.  

Unable to stand the stench any longer, Rayne followed the sound toward the door. Sure, the smell helped with his post-memory-absorption headache, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable!  

As he neared the entrance, a woman’s voice grew clearer.  

"So, what happened over there?"  

"It’s… complicated," a man’s voice replied.  

"Then simplify it."  

"Those guys were part of the Dark Guild, the Black Magic Cult. A bunch of fanatics who worship the legendary dark mage, Zeref, and want to resurrect him."  

"Ugh, humans really are as disgusting as ever." The woman’s voice dripped with open disdain.  

"The R-System guys, huh?"  

Thanks to his awakened memories, Rayne immediately understood.  

No wonder they were kidnapping kids—they needed labor to build the Tower of Heaven.  

"The boy should be waking up soon. Take him with you when he does."  

Hearing this, Rayne didn’t bother pretending to still be asleep. He pushed the door open and stepped outside.  

Two figures stood before him.  

One was a short, bearded old man.  

The other was a middle-aged woman with long pink hair and a flowing cape.  

Thanks to his merged memories, Rayne recognized them instantly.  

His gaze settled on Makarov—he faintly remembered seeing him before passing out.  

Back then, the energy inside him had been completely dRayned, as if squeezed dry by some monstrous force. His body had been left hollow, his spirit sapped, and he’d lost consciousness.  

If not for their help, he might not have survived.  

"Thank you for saving me."  

His voice was sincere.  

"Don’t worry about it. You just overused your magic. A few days of rest, and you’ll be fine."  

Makarov waved it off casually, then hesitated before asking,  

"Do you remember what happened before you blacked out?"  

He looked slightly guilty—it wasn’t exactly a pleasant topic to bring up. But he needed to steer the conversation forward.  

"...Yeah."  

Rayne’s expression darkened, his tone heavy.  

Even with his past-life memories, he couldn’t just ignore the pain of this life’s experiences.  

Still, the shock of those memories had numbed him enough to keep from breaking down.  

That said, he’d definitely burned the Black Magic Cult’s name into his mind.  

The ones who’d attacked his village were already dead, true.  

But they weren’t the only ones in the world.  

If he didn’t wipe them all out, he’d feel like his memories had awakened for nothing.  

"I’m Makarov, master of the Fairy Tail guild."  

Relieved that Rayne wasn’t bursting into tears, Makarov continued,  

"If you’re okay with it, you can join our guild."  

Not wanting to seem like he was taking advantage, he quickly added,  

"Of course, you can visit first and decide later."  

"If you’ll have me, I’d be honored."  

To Makarov’s surprise, Rayne agreed immediately.  

The moment he’d woken up and realized where he was, Rayne had already guessed why he’d been brought here.  

If he refused, he’d likely end up in some church-run orphanage.  

And beyond that—if he wanted the power to fight the Black Magic Cult, he needed someone to teach him magic.  

Not every member of the Ten Wizard Saints was a powerhouse, but every one of them was a top-tier mage.  

Makarov, as one of the Saints, was not only strong but also kind-hearted—the best possible mentor.  

Plus, the man had saved his life.  

All things considered, Rayne had zero reason to refuse.  

"Wait, is my reputation that huge now? Kids just agree to join after hearing my name?!"  

Unaware of Rayne’s thoughts, Makarov puffed up with pride, a goofy grin spreading across his face.  

"Come here. Let me check you."  

Porlyusica, who’d been silent until now, grabbed Rayne by the collar and hauled him back inside.  

Rayne hated being carried like this, but his tiny body was no match for her. He hung limply as she dragged him off.  

After a quick examination, she confirmed that aside from magic exhaustion and fatigue, he was fine.  

"Take your medicine and rest. And once you’re done, get out of my house. Don’t bother me!"  

With that, Porlyusica pointed sharply at the door.  

"We’ll see you later, then."  

Makarov, long used to her attitude, just chuckled.  

"Don’t come back unless it’s urgent. Actually, don’t come back even if it is."  

Porlyusica scowled and turned back to her herbs.  

"Thank you."  

Ignoring her rudeness, Rayne bowed sincerely before hurrying after Makarov.  

Since Porlyusica hated humans, her home was quite a distance from Magnolia.  

Rayne’s small body—paired with an adult’s willpower—just barely got him through the trek.  

By the time they reached Magnolia, the sky was already painted gold by the setting sun.  

Inside the town, cobblestone paths replaced dirt roads, and rows of charming houses lined the streets.  

A canal cut through the town, its gentle burbling mixing with the cheerful chatter of passersby.  

People waved warmly at Makarov as he passed, their faces bright with familiarity.  

Finally, after what felt like forever, they stopped in front of a grand three-story building.  

A sign above the entrance read: [FAIRY TAIL].  

Bathed in the evening light, the guild’s yellow flag snapped in the wind, its white fairy emblem dancing—as if running, or perhaps flying toward the golden sun.  

"This… is Fairy Tail!"  

Makarov climbed the steps, then turned and stretched out a hand to the boy below, grinning widely.  

"And from now on… it’s your home too."  

Chapter 3: The Lively Guild  

Rayne had to admit—for just a fleeting moment—he actually thought this short-statured old man in front of him looked kind of cool.  

But the next instant…  

The tightly shut guild doors were suddenly flung open, and a figure came flying out.  

They crashed right into Makarov, who was standing at the top of the stairs.  

The two immediately tumbled down the steps like a pair of rolling snowballs.  

"Huh—?"  

Rayne’s initially enthusiastic response to Makarov’s grand speech stretched into a confused, drawn-out noise.  

"Wakaba, you still suck at this!!" 

"Hahaha!! Drinks are on Wakaba tonight!!" 

"Wooohooo!!"  

The boisterous energy inside the guild was so intense it felt like a physical force blasting through the doors. Even without stepping inside, Rayne could easily imagine the chaos within.  

His gaze shifted to the two who had finally stopped rolling.  

The man who had crashed into Makarov was young, now pinned beneath the guild master. The most baffling part? Despite the rough tumble, the guy’s eyes were dazed and spinning—yet the cigarette in his mouth hadn’t fallen out. A thin wisp of smoke even curled lazily upward.  

Makarov, now on top, opened his eyes, his pupils burning with palpable fury.  

Seeing this, Rayne silently took a few steps back, putting some distance between them—just in case blood started flying and ruined his only set of clothes.  

As expected…  

Makarov was this close to storming inside and giving those idiots a piece of his mind.  

He’d just delivered this grand, inspiring speech to the kid, only for his own guild to ruin the moment with their nonsense.  

If Rayne got the wrong idea and assumed Fairy Tail was some rowdy, unprofessional guild—and decided not to join—then they’d be losing a potential prodigy!  

(Not that Fairy Tail was particularly professional to begin with…)  

But still! They couldn’t just embarrass him like this!  

Glancing at Rayne’s quiet expression, Makarov forced down his irritation and plastered on a grandfatherly smile.  

"Sorry about that. The guild can get a little… loud." 

"It’s fine. I like the energy," Rayne replied, eyeing the throbbing vein on Makarov’s forehead and the still-pinned Wakaba beneath his foot. His smile was genuine.  

After all, Rayne already knew Fairy Tail had always been an overwhelmingly noisy guild, ever since its founding.  

"Good! Then let’s head inside." Relieved that Rayne wasn’t put off, Makarov hopped off Wakaba.  

"Get up already! You’re making us look bad in front of the new kid!" He shot Wakaba a stern look, his tone dripping with exasperation.  

"Ah, sorry about that, newbie. Didn’t mean to scare ya." Wakaba sprang to his feet, casually dusting off his shirt before catching up to them with an easygoing grin.  

As a mage, a little tumble down the stairs wasn’t enough to faze him—he’d just stayed down because he knew Makarov was pissed.  

"No worries. It was kinda fun to watch," Rayne said, studying Wakaba’s composed demeanor. It was hard to connect this guy with the one who’d just been ragdolled moments ago.  

"Hah! That’s the spirit! Our guild’s all about fun and excitement!" Wakaba’s pride practically radiated from him, his grin widening.  

"Heyyy, Master! You’re back!" 

"Master, come grab a drink! Wakaba lost the bet—he’s treating everyone tonight!" 

"Yeah, yeah! Don’t let him weasel out of it!"  

The moment Makarov stepped inside, the already-deafening noise level skyrocketed.  

Hearing the shouts, Wakaba’s expression faltered, and he instinctively patted his pockets.  

"Tch! Whatever! We’ve got a new member today, so I’ll gracefully cover the drinks!" He puffed out his chest, suddenly regaining his confidence.  

"New member?" 

"The Master brought back a rookie?" 

"Wait, that’s just a kid!"  

At Wakaba’s declaration, dozens of curious eyes locked onto Rayne, scrutinizing him.  

For a split second, Rayne suppressed a shiver. Goosebumps prickled under his clothes.  

Sure, these people might seem like reckless idiots, but they were still mages who lived dangerous lives. Even without malice, the weight of their collective gaze was enough to make anyone nervous.  

Gritting his teeth, Rayne straightened his back. He refused to show weakness—knowing this bunch, they’d never let him live it down if he did.  

Beside him, Makarov nodded approvingly. This kid had walked all the way from Porlyusica’s place without a single complaint, and now he was holding his own under the guild’s intense scrutiny.  

A natural-born mage, through and through.  

"That’s right. This is our newest member," Makarov announced, pulling Rayne forward to ease the pressure.  

"Everyone, I’m Rayne." With Makarov’s support, the introduction went smoothly.  

"Heya, Rayne! How old are ya?" A female mage raised her hand excitedly.  

Rayne glanced at her—she wasn’t someone he recognized from the original story, but that made sense. This was reality, after all, and there were bound to be differences. Plus, this was years before Natsu’s generation. For all he knew, she might’ve retired to start a family by then.  

"Nine," he answered.  

"Ooh! So what kind of magic do you use?" This time, a male mage chimed in, sparking even more curiosity.  

Magic was, after all, the heart of a mage’s identity.  

"Summoning Magic," Rayne replied calmly.  

That answer had been Makarov’s suggestion on their way to Magnolia. His reasoning was simple: unless Rayne planned to never leave the guild, revealing a magic that could summon a dragon would draw too much attention.  

After all, a creature that had vanished for 400 years suddenly reappearing? That would stir up more trouble than it was worth.  

The name Fairy Tail carried weight, sure—but the rats lurking in the shadows wouldn’t care.  

"Alright, that’s enough for now. The kid’s had a long day—let’s get him some food first," Makarov cut in before the questions could continue.  

Seeing the Master step in, the guild backed off. They’d have plenty of time to grill the newbie later.  

"Tch. Wonder where Gramps dug up this brat."  

Just as the interrogation seemed over, a scornful voice cut through the chatter.  

The guild members’ eyes lit up, drinks still in hand, their expressions shifting to pure amusement.  

Ohhh, this’ll be good.  

Makarov’s face twisted into a mix of annoyance and resignation.  

Chapter 4: The Three Rules of Fairy Tail  

Rayne turned toward the voice—a boy sitting in the corner, arms crossed, his spiky golden hair standing on end like a hedgehog’s. His chin was slightly raised, his eyes sharp with scrutiny.  

When Rayne met his gaze, the boy smirked, oozing disdain.  

"Hey, newbie! Listen up—this is Fairy Tail, the strongest guild in Fiore!"  

"Laxus!"  

Makarov’s voice boomed, his brow furrowed in warning. But Laxus ignored him, speaking faster now, spurred on by his grandfather’s interruption.  

"Don’t think just because Gramps brought you here, you can coast by. If you’re some weakling who’ll just cry and hold us back, get lost now!"  

Rayne’s lips curled slightly, his eyes narrowing.  

"...Hey, kid. You know something?"  

Though he owed Makarov a debt, that didn’t mean Rayne would just take Laxus’s insults lying down.  

"Only people who lack confidence feel the need to keep yapping about ‘strong’ and ‘weak.’"  

Silence fell over the guild.  

Makarov, who’d been about to rein in his grandson, froze mid-step, staring at Rayne in surprise. Laxus, too, was caught off guard—no one usually talked back to him.  

The onlookers gawked. Rayne had seemed quiet, almost meek. Yet here he was, standing his ground against Laxus despite being smaller and younger. The dynamic had flipped, and it felt… off.  

"Whoa~ Rayne’s got a point!"  

"Laxus was way cuter before he hit puberty."  

"Right? He used to call me ‘big sister’ so sweetly~"  

The teasing made Laxus stiffen, his face flushing red. Nothing ruins a tough-guy act faster than childhood embarrassment.  

"SHUT UP, YOU IDIOTS!!!" He slammed his hands on the table, glaring at the hecklers before turning his fury back on Rayne—only for Makarov’s giant hand to smush him into the wood.  

"Enough!" The old man’s voice brooked no argument. Laxus clenched his jaw but stayed silent.  

With the situation defused, Makarov led Rayne to the guild’s counter, his usual playfulness gone.  

"Rayne, Fairy Tail has only three rules. Remember them well."  

The guild fell silent again as Makarov stood tall, his voice solemn:  

First: Never reveal information that could harm Fairy Tail—no matter what. 

Second: Never exploit past clients for personal gain. 

Third: No matter the path you walk, live strong. Never throw your life away… and never forget the friends who matter.  

His words carried weight, his eyes sharp with conviction.  

"Can you abide by these, Rayne?"  

"I can." Rayne met his gaze firmly.  

Makarov smiled. "Good. Now—what color for your guild mark?"  

Rayne hesitated. "Black—no, white. Here." He placed his right hand on the counter, recalling the white dragon from his memories.  

With a stamp, the emblem bloomed on his skin—a white Fairy Tail insignia.  

As Rayne studied it, Makarov spoke again, his voice softer:  

"Does a fairy even have a tail? Do fairies exist at all?"  

"That mystery is what makes the journey worthwhile."  

"I can’t give you the answer, Rayne. You’ll have to seek it yourself—through adventures, through the bonds you forge. That’s what it means to be part of Fairy Tail."  

The guild erupted in cheers, drinks raised. Rayne, too young to join, simply watched, murmuring:  

"I’ll find my own answer."  

Later, Makarov escorted Rayne to the guild’s male dorms—a standalone building with private rooms (thank gods).  

"Sorry about Laxus," Makarov sighed, suddenly looking every bit his age. "I spoiled him."  

Rayne shook his head. "You don’t need to apologize for him."  

A faint smirk tugged at his lips.  

"Let us handle it. It’ll keep things… interesting."  

Makarov paled. Oh no. This kid’s gonna be trouble too, isn’t he?  

But hey—he’d been a hellion in his youth too. As long as they didn’t burn the guild down (again), he’d allow it.  

Exhausted but restless, Rayne sat on his bed, eyes closed, mind already turning toward magic.  

This was just the beginning.  

Chapter 5: The Red Dragon Emperor's Gauntlet!  

While unconscious, Rayne had not only merged the memories of his two lives—he’d also gained a rough understanding of the magic he’d awakened.  

[Dragon’s Origin]  

That was the name of his magic.  

Perhaps due to his Raynecarnation, it allowed him to summon dragon-attribute creatures and items from other worlds.  

In essence, though it was a single magic, it had two functions.  

Dragon-attribute creatures were self-explanatory.  

The white dragon Makarov had witnessed was none other than Kanna Kamui from Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid—a 10,000-year-old loli dragon (legally, of course).  

Despite her childish appearance, Kanna’s strength was formidable. Even in this world, she’d rank among the elite.  

But such power came at a cost.  

Rayne vividly remembered the moment Kanna, after slaughtering the Dark Guild members, noticed Makarov’s presence. Mistaking him for another target, she prepared to unleash her breath attack—  

And Rayne’s mana was drained dry in an instant.  

The sensation of being utterly emptied, not a single drop left, still made him shudder.  

Of course, Rayne wasn’t planning to summon Kanna now.  

For one, they were in the guild dorm—summoning a massive dragon would leave him homeless tonight.  

And his still-recovering mana reserves couldn’t handle it anyway.  

"Dragon-attribute items, though… I wonder how those work?"  

Curious, he channeled his magic.  

A single point of light appeared on the floor before him, rapidly expanding into a circular magic circle.  

But unlike the standard geometric arrays used by most mages, Rayne’s was composed of interlocking ancient runes resembling dragon scales.  

The symbols pulsed with a deep, primordial aura.  

A white line extended from Rayne’s chest to the base of the circle, then branched upward like a growing tree.  

Some branches split into two, others into multiple paths—until the entire array resembled a luminous fractal tree, its trunk rooted in Rayne’s own magic.  

Rayne didn’t see this, though.  

The moment the array activated, his consciousness was pulled into a void of absolute darkness.  

Before he could react, a white line shot forward from his feet, weaving into the same tree-like pattern he’d unconsciously drawn outside.  

Each branch glowed with a different hue, transforming the abyss into a dazzling cosmos of light.  

"Did Ea just get unleashed or something?"  

The sight reminded him of Gilgamesh’s Noble Phantasm from Fate.  

But he quickly grasped the truth—each glowing branch represented a dragon-attribute item.  

"Problem is… how do I choose?"  

Squinting at the overwhelming display, Rayne realized he had no way to discern what each branch led to.  

"Guess I’ll pick at random."  

He rubbed his strained eyes. The childish desire to "take them all" was tempting, but reality had limits.  

Summoning items required more than mana—his body had to bear their power.  

At his current level, one was his limit.  

Focusing, he mentally selected a white branch.  

Instantly, the other lights retracted, merging back into the "trunk" until only his chosen path remained.  

The branch condensed into a radiant fruit-like orb before him.  

As the light faded—  

A crimson gauntlet embedded with an emerald gem materialized.  

"ROAR—!"  

A phantom red dragon erupted from it, its tyrannical presence crashing into Rayne’s mind like a tidal wave.  

"Hah… hah…!"  

Gasping, Rayne snapped back to reality. The magic circle dissolved into motes of light.  

The mana cost for summoning the item was manageable—but the sheer arrogance of the gauntlet’s aura had battered his psyche.  

Yet as he recalled its design, a grin spread across his face.  

Sitting up, he raised his hand. Mana surged, and the armament manifested—  

A blood-red gauntlet sheathing his arm from fingertips to bicep.  

Its surface wasn’t smooth metal, but overlapping dragon scales, each one hardened like volcanic rock and gleaming with a sinister luster.  

"Interesting. Very interesting!"  

A voice—dominant, magnetic, unmistakably female—echoed in his mind. The emerald gem pulsed in sync.  

"A woman?"  

Rayne blinked.  

He wasn’t surprised the gauntlet could speak. The moment he saw it, he’d recognized it as something monumental.  

[Boosted Gear]  

Also known as the *"Red Dragon Emperor’s Gauntlet"*—from High School DxD.  

A Divine Dividing-class Sacred Gear, sealed with the soul of the Heavenly Dragon Ddraig.  

Its power? Doubling the user’s strength every 10 seconds. At its peak, it could slay gods.  

But in the original work, Ddraig was male.  

Why was his version female?  

"Oi, brat. You got a problem with me being a woman?"  

The voice dripped with irritation.  

"A little," Rayne admitted inwardly.  

Then again, he’d already met mages who shouldn’t exist in Fairy Tail’s timeline. A gender-bent Ddraig wasn’t the weirdest thing.  

Actually, better this way.  

He’d rather not have a dude’s soul lingering in his body. Things could get… awkward later.  

"Hah! You’ve got guts, kid!"  

Instead of anger, the voice laughed—a thunderous, approving sound.  

As a Heavenly Dragon who embodied "Domination", she despised weakness. Rayne’s bluntness amused her.  

"Fine. For our first meeting, I’ll let that slide."  

"I’m Rayne. Your name?"  

He studied the gauntlet. If even its spirit’s gender had changed, the name might differ too.  

"Ddraig. Ye Ddraig Goch!"  

Her declaration was ferocious, regal, utterly unshaken by mortal concepts like gender.  

She wasn’t male or female—she was Ddraig, the Red Dragon Emperor.  

And that was all that mattered.  

(Note: "Ye Ddraig Goch" is Welsh for "The Red Dragon," tying into the mythological roots of Ddraig’s name.)