Fairy Tail: My Magic is a Yu-Gi-Oh! Deck — Chapter 81

Chapter 81: Questioning Reality

A sharp, stinging recoil shot up Gajeel’s arm, vibrating straight to his shoulder. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he quickly retracted his fist, the dense iron-molded limb reverting to flesh. He kicked off the cracked cobblestones, rolling backward a few times to put a safe distance between himself and the man who had just effortlessly blocked his strike.

Finding his footing, Gajeel shook out his numb hand. He locked eyes with his target, a wide, jagged grin splitting his face. “Gehihihi… Looks like a real monster decided to show up.”

He was genuinely surprised to see Chase here, especially since the oppressive weight radiating off the man was in a completely different league compared to the three pieces of trash he had been playing with. Yet, despite the obvious danger, Gajeel maintained an incredibly arrogant, almost euphoric posture.

They were both S-Class Mages from Fiore’s strongest guilds. He had been itching to spar with established heavyweights like Chase and Erza for a long time. Deep down, he was a Dragon Slayer, just as hot-headed and battle-hungry as Natsu. If Jose hadn’t repeatedly hammered the importance of sticking to the plan into his skull, he would have ignored the guild war entirely just to attack Chase’s house.

“T-That man… That’s Chase! Fairy Tail’s Chase!”

In stark contrast to the Iron Dragon’s excitement, the accompanying Sabertooth fodder panicked. Their eyes widened in sheer terror, boots scraping against the dirt as a desperate urge to flee overtook them. For Sabertooth, which was little more than a third-rate guild at this point in time, an S-Class Mage like Chase was a walking legend—a natural disaster in human form.

“Useless trash.” Gajeel’s expression darkened. “It’s just one guy, and you’re pissing yourselves!”

Without even looking, he swung his arm back. His flesh transformed into a massive steel pillar—Iron Dragon’s Club—and slammed directly into the trembling Sabertooth mage, sending him flying into a nearby wall with a sickening crunch. Influenced by Phantom Lord’s ruthless atmosphere, Gajeel had no qualms about brutally striking down his own guildmates, let alone cannon fodder from a borrowed guild.

Chase narrowed his eyes, ignoring the display of cruelty to study the unconscious mage slumped against the rubble.

‘A guy who didn’t appear in the original timeline? And that emblem…’Relying on the faint moonlight filtering through the clouds, Chase clearly made out the shape of the crest branded on the fallen man’s chest.’Sabertooth. How did they end up colluding with Phantom Lord?’ Chase mused.

The answer surfaced almost immediately. This deviation from the original timeline was undoubtedly his own doing—a direct consequence of him beating Sabertooth’s Guild Master, Jiemma, half to death during the last regular meeting.

Before Chase could dwell on the political fallout, a dark shadow blotted out the moon. Gajeel, unable to hold back his bloodlust a second longer, launched himself forward with a wild, grating laugh.

“Gehihihi! Since you came all the way out here just to die, I’ll start with you, Chase!”

Mid-charge, Gajeel vaulted into the air. A brilliant cyan magic circle flared to life in front of him, and his right arm elongated, transforming into a high-speed, rotating serrated greatsword.

“Iron Dragon’s Sword!”

A cold, metallic gleam plummeted from the sky, hacking straight down toward Chase’s head. The fierce slash and the resulting shockwave exploded simultaneously, carving the street into massive jagged trenches and kicking up a blinding cloud of pulverized stone and dust.

Two figures darted out from the thick of the debris.

Chase landed gracefully on a pristine stretch of pavement, holding Levy securely around the waist with one arm as if carrying a light child. He set her down gently.

“Chase! Jet, he…” Droy scrambled over, his face pale and slick with sweat, frantically searching for his missing teammate.

“He’s fine,” Chase replied, his tone calm and unhurried. “I used a card to swap his position. He’s regrouping with Natsu and Erza right now.”

Hearing this, the suffocating tension gripping Levy and Droy finally broke. They both let out heavy, shuddering exhales.

“You two stay back,” Chase instructed, his gaze drifting toward the settling dust cloud. “I’m going to play with this scrap metal for a bit.”

Through the haze, Gajeel stood amidst the ruined street. He tilted his head back, his chest expanding as his cheeks puffed out. A chaotic storm of cyan Magic Power whipped around him, pulling the surrounding air into a violent vortex that compressed directly in front of his mouth.

When the gathered energy reached its absolute peak, Gajeel threw his arms wide and unleashed it all.

“Iron Dragon’s… Roar!!”

A devastating cyclone of breath, heavily laced with high-density black iron sand, erupted forward. It was a localized hurricane of destruction. Wherever it passed, the street was annihilated—cobblestones were ripped from the earth, ground into fine powder, and erased from existence.

“T-The same… the same magic as Natsu?!” Levy stammered, her knees locking up. Both she and Droy were paralyzed by the sheer scale of the attack, their minds blanking in the face of certain death.

Chase simply took a slow, measured breath. He didn’t rush. He didn’t brace for impact. He just took a single step forward into the tearing winds, raising his hand as a spectral, bronze-colored gauntlet materialized over it—the Right Arm of the Forbidden One.

“Magnolia is our home,” Chase murmured, his voice cutting through the roaring gale. “It’s not your place as an outsider to tear it apart.”

The massive bronze arm, wrapped in heavy, broken chains, let out a resounding metallic clank. In the fraction of a second before the iron sand breath could swallow him whole, Chase threw a simple, unadorned punch.

The air itself shattered.

A concussive shockwave of pure kinetic force exploded from his knuckles. The seemingly unstoppable Iron Dragon’s Roar collided with the punch and was instantly obliterated, the dense iron sand scattering harmlessly into the night sky like a gentle metallic rain.

“How is that possible?!” Gajeel gasped, his breath hitching in his throat. He stared in absolute disbelief at the man standing at the end of the ruined street, slowly lowering his fist. “To just… brush off my Roar…”

Phantom Lord had started gathering intelligence on Fairy Tail’s core members long before declaring this war. The S-Class Mages were their primary targets. Gajeel knew for a fact that ‘Duelist’ Chase specialized in highly versatile, overwhelmingly powerful card magic. The reports mentioned he had decent physical combat skills, but to shatter a Dragon Slayer’s Roar with raw physical force alone?

“What the hell is this?!”

The realization of the vast, yawning chasm between their power levels hit Gajeel hard. The man who proudly called himself Phantom Lord’s Ace felt his mental defenses crack. Humiliation rapidly morphed into a blinding, irrational rage.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Chaotic cyan Magic Power bled from his body. Driven by the magic circle glowing beneath his boots, his skin rapidly hardened, transforming into dark, grid-like steel plating. Iron Dragon’s Scales. The air grew heavy, thick with the oppressive aura of a cornered beast.

“A strong guy like you…” Gajeel growled, his confidence forcibly returning as he activated his strongest defensive mode. He flexed his scaled arm, beckoning Chase forward with a sneer. “You’re just going to be that much more satisfying to trample! Come on! Let’s kill each other, Fairy Tail!”

Facing this surging wave of killing intent, Chase merely let out a quiet, disappointed sigh.

He had originally planned to drag this fight out, hoping the clash would trigger the conditions to draw a new card. But feeling the Magic Power Gajeel was currently outputting… it was exactly as he suspected. Gajeel’s current level was roughly on par with Natsu’s. Maybe a tiny fraction higher if he didn’t factor in Natsu’s emotional power bursts.

At this level, drawing a high-tier card was completely out of the question. It was a waste of time.

“You card-playing bastard! You dare look down on me?!” Gajeel caught the sheer boredom in Chase’s eyes, and his temper detonated. “I am Phantom Lord’s Iron Dragon Slayer!!”

He roared, his boots shattering the ground as he launched himself forward. The explosive force pushed his speed to the absolute limit, turning him into a blur of steel and malice.

However—

A blinding holy light pierced the gloom of the night sky, washing the ruined street in brilliant gold. Three massive, dazzling swords of pure energy materialized from the heavens. They descended faster than Gajeel could even process, slamming into the earth to form a triangular cage around him. Swords of Revealing Light.

The ethereal blades hummed, projecting a suffocating, absolute restrictive pressure.

“Damn it! Why can’t I move?!” Gajeel yelled, his eyes wide with panic. His aura flared violently as he strained against the invisible bindings, the metal scales on his arms groaning under his own exertion. “Damn it! Damn it! Move, damn you!!”

But no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn’t even twitch a finger. The light swords remained entirely unbothered. The difference in their raw Magic Power was simply too absolute.

‘How could this happen? We’re both S-Class! How can the gap be this massive?!’

Through Gajeel’s terrified eyes, Chase—who was currently strolling over the broken rubble as casually as if he were walking through a garden—looked like an unfathomable monster with glowing, blood-red eyes.

Gajeel had only ever felt this kind of suffocating, hopeless pressure from one other person since the day his develop father, the Iron Dragon Metalicana, vanished. And that was his own Guild Master, Jose Porla, a man who sat among the Ten Wizard Saints.

“It’s not that I look down on you, Gajeel,” Chase said, coming to a halt just outside the cage of light. “It’s just that right now, you’re so weak I can’t even be bothered to try.”

Before Gajeel could formulate a response, Chase slowly raised the Right Arm of the Forbidden One.

A muffled, deafening boom echoed through the district. The earth caved in, forming a massive crater lined with deep, spiderwebbing fissures. Iron scraps and shattered scales flew into the air.

Knocked completely out of his scaled form, Gajeel lay spread-eagled at the bottom of the pit. His body twitched twice, his neck went limp, and he passed out cold.