Fairy Tail: The Pokemon Summoner

Outside the Silver Thread Company, Noir stood patiently, his eyes fixed on the translucent screen hovering before him. As he waited for Levy, he reviewed the moveset of his newly acquired Pokémon.

Rowlet: Peck, Shadow Sneak.

Metang: Bullet Punch, Meteor Mash, Flash Cannon, Zen Headbutt.

'Huh, Rowlet doesn't have a Grass-type move, but I do,' Noir mused, a quiet chuckle escaping him. 'Metang's moves are solid, though. He's going to be a great asset to the team.'

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention. Closing his system interface, he glanced up to see Levy making her way toward him, a friendly smile on her face.

"Are you ready?" Noir asked as she came to a stop beside him.

Levy nodded, patting the crossbody bag at her waist. "Everything's set."

"Good. Let's head inside."

The two stepped into the Silver Thread Company's office, where they exchanged pleasantries with their employer before getting down to business. Their task was straightforward and simple: Escort a caravan to Oak Town, ensuring both the goods and the people arrived safely, and then accompany them back to Magnolia.

Once they had confirmed the details and agreed to the terms, both parties signed the contract, sealing the deal. With that, their journey to Oak Town officially began.

******

A day and a half had passed since Noir, Levy, and the Silver Thread Company's convoy departed from Magnolia. Now, they were making their way through a dense forest.

Ordinarily, the journey to Oak Town took roughly around sixty hours, but with the convoy in tow, their pace had slowed. Factoring in scheduled breaks, the trip would take an additional six to eight hours. Despite the delay, the group traveled at a relaxed pace, ensuring both the goods and people arrived safely.

Noir took advantage of the unhurried journey to interact with Levy, using the time to get to know her better. After spending a day and a half in her company, he came to a solid conclusion—Levy was sweet, kind, and endlessly cheerful. Her upbeat personality made her easy to talk to, and her passion for books and learning bordered on obsession. If there was something new to discover, she wanted to know everything about it.

Of course, just because Noir was chatting didn't mean he was slacking off. Since leaving Magnolia, he had been keeping a constant watch on their surroundings. Every so often, he sent Rowlet into the air to scout from above, while Metang hovered at his side, its psychic abilities scanning for any disturbances. So far, everything had been quiet. Almost too quiet.

Because, like any true protagonist, just when he thought their journey might actually go smoothly—trouble came looking for him.

******

As they walked, Metang suddenly halted midair, its metallic body tensing as its psychic field expanded. Noir immediately took notice. Through the enhanced perception of Six Eyes, he sensed them—twenty individuals closing in on them.

"Levy, we've got company," Noir muttered, his voice calm despite the tension that thickened the air.

Levy didn't hesitate. She shifted into a defensive stance, fingers poised to write in the air, ready to conjure her magic at a moment's notice. "How many?" she asked, already aware of Noir's heightened perception from their past conversations.

Noir exhaled. "Twenty. Surrounding us." His gaze swept the area, assessing the situation.

The next moment, the convoy came to a slow, uneasy stop. The merchants and travelers huddled closer to their carts as fear settled in. Figures emerged from behind the trees, encircling the convoy. 

Noir stepped forward with an easy confidence. "Defend the convoy," he instructed, his voice steady but firm. "I'll handle most of them."

Levy gave a sharp nod and took position near the carts, her eyes scanning the attackers with unwavering focus. Meanwhile, Noir let a smirk tug at the corner of his lips as he faced the would-be assailants.

A burly man with a jagged scar running along his chin stepped forward, cracking his knuckles with deliberate menace. "Well, well," he sneered. "Look what we have here—a couple of brats who think they can stop us."

Noir arched an eyebrow. "Oh no, scary bandits. I'm shaking in my boots." He smirked, tilting his head. "Look, let's just get this over with. We've got places to be, and you're in the way."

Scar-Chin's smirk twisted into a scowl. "You'll regret that." With a sharp glare, he barked out, "Get 'em!"

One of the bandits—a fire mage—thrust his hands forward, sending a torrent of flames roaring toward Noir. But before the fire could reach him, Noir shifted smoothly to the side, the heat licking at the air where he had stood a split second ago. His hand flicked up, summoning a sphere of swirling water—Water Pulse. He hurled it with pinpoint accuracy, the water crashing into the flames with a hiss of steam before striking the mage square in the chest. The impact sent him flying into a tree, where he slumped, unconscious.

Before Noir could so much as exhale, another enemy—a wind mage—stepped up, whipping his arms through the air. Razor-sharp wind blades tore toward him, their edges slicing through branches and foliage.

Noir's eyes narrowed. Double Team.

In an instant, his form flickered, splitting into multiple identical copies that scattered in different directions. The wind mage hesitated, his gaze darting between illusions, his hands twitching as he tried to pinpoint the real one.

That hesitation was all Noir needed.

With a fluid motion, he channeled Plant Magic into his arm, his forearm elongating into a razor-sharp Leaf Blade. He slashed through the mage's defenses, striking him down before he could react.

A trio of water mages attempted to overwhelm him, summoning torrents of water that surged toward him in crashing waves. Metang hovered beside him, its eyes glowing with psychic energy as it intercepted the attacks.

"Bullet Punch!" Noir commanded.

Metang blurred forward, its metal fists moving at lightning speed as it hammered into the closest mage, sending him sprawling. Before the second could retaliate, Metang twisted midair and unleashed a devastating Meteor Mash, slamming its opponent into the dirt with enough force to leave an imprint.

The third mage recoiled, eyes widening in fear—but Metang was already moving. Its body glowed with psychic energy as it launched forward. Zen Headbutt. The sheer force of the impact sent the final water mage hurtling back, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

Noir chuckled, dusting off his sleeve as he surveyed the scene. "At this rate, you guys are just giving me a warm-up."

Meanwhile, Levy was holding her own against four attackers, her sharp eyes scanning their movements as they closed in. With a swift flourish of her fingers, she traced glowing letters in the air, magic crackling at her fingertips.

"Solid Script: Fire!"

The word FIRE materialized before her in brilliant, burning letters before shooting forward like a blazing projectile. One of the mages barely managed to conjure a water barrier, the flames hissing violently as they collided—but Levy was already moving.

Her fingers danced through the air. "Solid Script: Iron!"

The word IRON solidified into a massive chunk of metal and shot forward like a battering ram. The water mage had no time to react before the impact slammed into him with bone-rattling force, sending him sprawling to the ground, unconscious.

A second enemy tried to take advantage of the chaos, darting around her flank with a jagged dagger in hand. But Levy's reflexes were sharp.

"Solid Script: Shield!"

A translucent barrier shimmered into existence just in time, absorbing the force of an earthen spike meant to impale her. The spell held firm, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface, but it was enough. Levy wasted no time retaliating.

"Solid Script: Wind!"

The letters glowed bright green before erupting into a howling tempest. The sudden gust of wind slammed into the attacker, sending him tumbling backward into the dense undergrowth with a startled yell.

That left two opponents still standing. Levy's heart pounded, but she didn't falter.

She planted her feet, magic swirling around her fingertips once more. "Come on, then," she murmured, a determined glint in her eyes. "Let's see if you can keep up."

Back in the fray, Noir continued his assault with effortless precision. A lightning mage, seizing an opening, thrust his hands forward, sending arcs of crackling electricity surging toward him. But Noir's Six Eyes tracked every movement, each spark and shift in the mage's stance laid bare to his heightened perception.

He smirked. Double Team.

His form flickered and split into multiple identical copies, scattering in different directions. The mage's lightning streaked harmlessly through an illusion, his real target already gone. Before he could react, Noir dashed forward in a blur, closing the distance in an instant.

With a swift, fluid motion, he drove a Water Pulse straight into the mage's gut. The sphere of swirling water struck with enough force to send the attacker skidding across the forest floor, crashing into a tree with a dull thud.

Noir didn't stop. Pivoting mid-step, he leapt into the air, summoning another Water Pulse between his palms. Twisting his body, he hurled it downward. The moment it impacted the ground, the water burst apart in a concussive shockwave, knocking another enemy off their feet.

From above, Rowlet swooped in, its keen eyes locking onto an unsuspecting opponent attempting to regroup.

Sensing the opportunity, Noir mentally commanded, 'Shadow Sneak.'

Rowlet's shadow stretched unnaturally, slithering across the battlefield before striking from behind. The mage barely had time to gasp before the attack landed, his body stiffening as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. The little owl let out a triumphant hoot before flapping its wings, soaring back toward Noir's side.

By now, only a handful of attackers remained. Their confidence, once unwavering, had begun to falter. They exchanged uneasy glances, the brutal efficiency of Noir and Levy's response sinking in.

Scar-chin, who had been watching from the sidelines, clenched his fists, fury burning in his eyes. "Enough! I'll take care of this myself!"

Noir smirked, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. "Finally. I was starting to think you were just here for decoration."

With a roar, Scar-chin raised his hands, summoning a surge of fire magic. Flames erupted around him, twisting into the shape of a massive dragon, its molten form crackling with intense heat. The makeshift beast roared, its fiery maw opening wide as it surged forward to consume Noir.

But Noir didn't flinch. If anything, his smirk widened.

"Metang," he called, voice steady. "Flash Cannon."

Metang's eyes gleamed with silver light. A brilliant sphere of condensed energy coalesced before it, humming with raw power before launching forward. The Flash Cannon shot through the air, colliding with the fiery dragon mid-flight. The explosion that followed sent a wave of heat and embers surging outward, momentarily obscuring the battlefield in a cloud of smoke and cinders.

But Noir was already moving.

He dashed through the dissipating haze, his body shimmering as Leaf Blade activated. His forearm pulsed with emerald energy, elongating into a razor-sharp blade.

Scar-chin barely had time to register his approach before Noir closed the distance. With a single, decisive strike, he slashed downward, cutting through the man's defenses with ease.

Scar-chin gasped, his body seizing up as the magic sustaining his flames flickered out. He staggered, knees buckling beneath him before collapsing onto the forest floor, defeated.

Noir exhaled, dusting off his coat as he glanced down at the fallen bandit. "Looks like you should've picked an easier target."

Without missing a beat, he turned his attention to the remaining attackers—those still conscious but clearly shaken. It took only moments for him to incapacitate them, knocking them out cold before binding them with makeshift restraints. He left Metang hovering nearby, giving it free rein to use whatever means necessary to keep the prisoners in check.

With that, the battle was finally over.

Noir rolled his shoulders, letting out a slow breath as he surveyed the battlefield. The once-noisy forest had fallen eerily silent, save for the hushed murmurs of the astonished merchants and travelers behind them. The relief on their faces was unmistakable, their eyes flickering between Noir and Levy, struggling to process just how easily the two had dismantled the ambush.

Speaking of Levy—he turned, spotting her standing tall amidst the wreckage of battle. The glowing letters of Solid Script flickered before fading into the air as she lowered her hands, a victorious glint in her gaze.

She exhaled, shaking off the lingering tension before offering him a small, breathless grin. "Well," she said, "that was fun."

Noir smirked. "For us, maybe. Not so much for them."

A cautious shuffling drew their attention back to the convoy. The merchants and travelers had begun peering out from behind their carts, their initial fear giving way to relief as they realized the danger had truly passed.

Noir adjusted his coat with a casual flick of his wrist. "Let's move. No point in sticking around. More might come."

Levy nodded, falling into step beside him as they resumed their journey. The convoy, still in awe, quickly gathered themselves and followed.

With the path ahead clear and the forest once again quiet, they pressed onward toward Oak Town.

******

By noon the next day, Noir, Levy, and the Silver Thread Company's convoy finally rolled into Oak Town under a relentless downpour.

Levy peered out from the carriage window, watching the rain cascade over the rooftops. "Rain?" she mused aloud, tilting her head. "That's strange."

Noir, who had been absentmindedly poking one of the captured thieves with a stick, glanced up. "Huh? Why's that?"

The bound man glared at him in irritation but wisely remained silent—Metang was still hovering nearby, its glowing red eyes fixed menacingly on the prisoners.

Levy pulled back from the window, brow furrowing slightly. "You don't usually get rain this time of year—let alone a full-blown downpour like this."

"Hmm… is that so?" Noir murmured, an amused smile playing on his lips as he recalled as a certain blue-haired storm-bringer came to mind. 'Looks like someone's in a bad mood.'

He shook the thought away for now, turning to the convoy leader instead. "Anyway, can we drop this trash off at the city guards first?" He flicked his stick away, clearly losing interest in the prisoners after confirming they weren't part of some larger scheme. They had simply been opportunistic fools who mistook the convoy for easy pickings.

The middle-aged leader nodded without hesitation. "Of course. I'll have the driver take us to the nearest guard post."

A short while later, they arrived at a small garrison on the eastern side of town. The guards, already drenched from the weather, were more than happy to take the criminals off their hands.

Once the prisoners were secured, the convoy resumed its journey through the rain-slicked streets, making its way to the Silver Thread Company's Oak Town branch. The drop-off process went smoothly, with clerks and workers swiftly unloading the cargo despite the poor weather.

"Guess that means we're free for the rest of the day," Levy said, stretching her arms. "What now?"

"First, let's not stand here getting drenched," Noir replied dryly, shaking the excess water from his sleeves. "Let's grab some umbrellas."

A quick stop at the company's shop later, both were equipped with sturdy, well-crafted umbrellas to shield them from the relentless rain.

Levy twirled hers experimentally before flashing him a grin. "I think I'll explore the town for a bit. Rain or not, Oak Town's got a lot of charm."

Noir adjusted his coat, his own plans already forming in his mind. "You do that. I've got something to take care of."

And with that, the two parted ways—Levy set off in search of interesting books, while Noir…

'If I were a depressed and moody girl, where would I be?'

With that thought, he began wandering through Oak Town.

To be continued...