Fairy Tail Destiny

The magic four-wheeler raced along the railway track. (This sure is a long track... if Natsu ends up destroying it while fighting with Erigor, it would probably be quite the spectacular scene.)

A strange thought flashed through Noel's mind. He shook his head to clear it. (Now's not the time to be thinking about that. Even though I've already pushed the magic four-wheeler to its maximum speed, it still might not be fast enough. We'll have to count on Natsu to stall or defeat Erigor.)

"Natsu, if it's you, I believe you can do it," Noel murmured softly to himself.

"Fire Dragon's Sword Horn!" Suddenly, a voice echoed into Noel's ears.

He looked up and saw a pillar of flame surging into the sky, ravaging the surrounding whirlwind.

"Natsu!" Noel shouted toward the direction of the flames and gradually brought the magic four-wheeler to a stop.

As the dust settled, the scene before him became clear—Erigor lay unconscious on the ground, seemingly defeated, while Natsu and Happy were arguing about something.

"Oh, you guys are late. It's already over," Natsu said, hands behind his head, grinning widely at Noel and the others.

"Natsu, well done! You really lived up to expectations," Noel praised with a smile.

The group disembarked from the vehicle, and as usual, Gray immediately started bickering with Natsu. "A guy like that forced you into a tough fight?"

"Tough fight? It was an overwhelming victory! Overwhelming!"

"And what's with that scarf? You look like some kind of pervert," Gray teased.

"You think you're qualified to talk?" Natsu retorted, sweat-dropping as he glanced at the shirtless Gray.

Turning toward Lucy, he said, "Lucy, lend me your clothes."

"Why mine?!" Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Heh," Noel and Erza chuckled at the scene.

"Anyway, great job, Natsu. Now the guild master and the others will be safe," Noel said, handing his jacket to Natsu.

"Next, let's head to the guild masters' council and report this incident. We also need to seek instructions on how to handle the flute," Erza suggested.

Happy was the first to agree enthusiastically, "Kuroba is just up ahead!"

Focused on their discussion, Noel and the group failed to notice that behind them, Kageyama was staring at the Lullaby flute on the ground, a sinister smile creeping onto his face.

Vroom! The roar of the magic four-wheeler's engine suddenly caught Noel's attention.

"What?" Noel turned his head to see Kageyama seated on the magic four-wheeler, holding the cursed flute Lullaby in his hand.

"I'll be taking Lullaby! You were far too careless, you little flies!" Kageyama snarled viciously at the group before speeding off along the railway on the magic four-wheeler.

The group was instantly dumbfounded, frozen in place.

Even Noel's lips twitched uncontrollably.

"That bastard!"

"What the heck?! We saved him!"

"Quick, let's chase after him!"

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Meanwhile, riding the magic vehicle, Kageyama had already reached the vicinity of the Kuroba conference venue.

Gazing at the building in the distance, he muttered to himself, "Alright, at this distance, the sound of Lullaby should spread perfectly. Finally, finally, the moment has come."

The wounds on his body, just recently healed, had reopened from the ride, and blood flowed down his body.

Ignoring his injuries, Kageyama picked up Lullaby and was about to use its cursed song to kill all the guild masters at the conference when sudden laughter echoed from behind him.

Startled, Kageyama stiffened and turned around, only to see Makarov, the master of Fairy Tail, engrossed in reading a risque magazine.

He laughed lecherously as he read, flipping through the pages with delight.

Suddenly, Makarov seemed to realize something and snapped the book shut, talking to himself, "No, no, this isn't the time for this sort of thing. I need to find those guys quickly..."

Halfway through his monologue, he turned around and spotted Kageyama.

Makarov, like a child caught doing something mischievous, let out a surprised yelp, "Eh!"

"No, no, it's not what it looks like! This is educational reading—there's nothing embarrassing about it at all." Makarov waved his arms frantically, cold sweat dripping down his face as he offered a flimsy excuse.

"Huh? Oh, you're injured." Noticing the bandages and blood flowing from Kageyama, Makarov tilted his head. "What are you doing wandering around in a place like this?"

"Uh, um..." Caught off guard, Kageyama stammered nervously. (Isn't this Makarov, the master of Fairy Tail? I seem to be running into Fairy Tail members a lot today...)

"Uh..." Kageyama suddenly lifted Lullaby with a forced smile. "Would you like to hear me play a tune? The hospital forbids playing instruments, and I've been dying to perform for someone."

"That flute gives off an awfully unpleasant vibe."

"Don't judge it by its appearance. Its sound is amazing!"

Makarov gave Kageyama a meaningful look. "I have urgent business, but listening to just one song shouldn't hurt."

"Of course." (Victory is mine.) Kageyama thought to himself. "Please listen carefully." He lifted Lullaby to his lips. (The moment has finally come.)

As he prepared to blow the flute, the hateful words from his guildmates toward legitimate guilds echoed in his mind.

Taking a deep breath, just as he was about to play, sudden images flashed through his thoughts.

"Try living a bit more positively, won't you?" The dark-haired boy from the magic vehicle had said dismissively. (Live positively? Easy for him to say. Could someone like me, who's lost all hope, really do that?)

"Aren't you guildmates?" The pink-haired boy had shouted furiously when Kageyama was struck down by a member of his own guild. (What a fool. I'm his enemy, right? Sticking up for an enemy—what else but foolishness is that?)

"Leave it to me." The blond boy, without hesitation, had healed Kageyama's wounds with warm white light. His blue eyes held no hatred or disgust, only comfort and compassion. (Why did you save me? Why did you look at me with those eyes? Aren't I your enemy? What are you people even thinking, idiots.)

(What should I do?)

Kageyama's hand froze, hesitation filling his eyes.

His heart felt as though it was blocked by some unfamiliar warmth—uncomfortable, yet not unpleasant.

The flute in his hand suddenly seemed much heavier.

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