Suzaku's luck was truly awful—he picked a fight right after Charles had obtained Ignia's power.
Charles had only just fused Ignia's power; to say it had no effect at all would be doing a disservice to Ignia, a Flame Dragon God bearing a divine title.
Ignia had mastered the essence of fire. His power, to some extent, influenced Charles as well.
Give Charles some time to fully digest it and there'd be no problem. But right now, his temper was anything but calm.
With the classic Fairy Tail "comrades-in-danger" buff stacked on top, Charles was downright irritable.
"Flame Dragon God's Ravaging Flames!"
Unlike his father Igneel's grand, all-embracing fire, Ignia's dragon flame brimmed with destructive force.
Fire is a noble power of destruction—by grasping this truth, Ignia attained flames that burn all to ash.
And now, Charles had grasped that fire as well.
With a sweep of his arm, a sea of deep crimson flames surged toward Suzaku.
Suzaku felt as if the very air scorched his lungs as he breathed.
No time to marvel at the terror of that fire—he could only gather all his strength and draw his blade.
"Netherworld-Style Iaido: Netherworld Reincarnation!"
A single stroke that could even sever flames—the entire sea of fire was cleaved at the waist. Then countless blades of light flashed, slicing the flames apart entirely.
That stroke did save him; though the sundered fire still blasted him away, it had greatly reduced the force behind it.
But staring at his charred jacket, Suzaku was shocked that even the split flames packed such destructive power.
There was no time to ponder it, because Charles had already burst through the falling embers and closed in.
Iaido balanced power with speed, but even a Dragon Slayer like Suzaku had to observe the fundamentals of swordplay.
His blade hadn't yet returned to the scabbard—there was no way he could ready another draw-cut before Charles reached him. He could only swing his sword in a slash.
By most standards, the stroke was excellent—worthy of a "swordmaster" label.
But to Charles, it was…
"Too slow."
He tilted his body mid-charge, watched the odd long blade with scale-like plating along its spine fall past, then grabbed Suzaku's wrist and slammed him into the ground.
Even as pain nearly drove the breath from his lungs, Suzaku clung to the hilt, using the rebound to spring up and whip a crescent slash in return.
Clang. The arc shattered as if it had struck diamond.
He glanced back and saw only a palm bracing the blade. The next second, those fingers closed, seized the edge, and yanked him forward.
Hauling Suzaku in close, Charles—like a certain blindfolded teacher pummeling a high-tier curse—drove several heavy punches into Suzaku's chest and gut.
Those blows were, frankly, more about venting than damage. The insult stung worse than the impact.
Even so, after taking them, Suzaku spat a huge mouthful of blood. When Charles let go of the sword, he went flying.
Propping himself up on the blade, Suzaku stood. Watching Charles approach, he said nothing, merely sheathing the sword and readying another draw.
Charles halted, took a deep breath, and calmed his rising fury. "Sorry. Seeing you lot… I really couldn't keep my temper."
Just thinking of Stella and the others wrapped in bandages sent a surge of anger crashing against his reason.
He knew they were hurt because he'd brought them to Guiltina—and because he'd set a trap for the Dragon Eaters that lured them in.
He wouldn't pin the enemy's brutality on himself, but not having prepared for everything left him no choice but to blame himself.
So he didn't hate Suzaku's group. His anger came, more precisely, from failing to protect his own.
But not hating them didn't mean pretending they did nothing. They would be the outlet for his fury.
Face dark, Suzaku said, "Underestimating you was my mistake. From here on, I will fight at full strength. I hope that, once I win, you will undo the restraints on my companions."
Charles chuckled. "Confident, aren't we? Or is that your tactic—to make me laugh so I won't be so mad?"
Suzaku's expression was solemn—he clearly meant every word about defeating Charles.
Charles's face cooled. "If you'd said that before you hurt my friends, I might've admired you. Now… I'm not interested in your big talk."
He vanished and reappeared in front of Suzaku.
"So fast!"
Charles was so quick that Suzaku couldn't even unleash a draw-cut before a knee strike launched him skyward.
Even in midair, Suzaku managed to slash.
"Netherworld-Style Iaido: Netherworld Fall!"
A slash vast enough to blot out the sky descended, like a world of death crashing down.
Charles drew his arm back like an arrow on the string.
"Flame Dragon God's Purgatory!"
With his punch, a tidal sea of flame surged up to meet the falling strike.
Suzaku watched, wide-eyed, as the cut he'd poured so much power into was burned to nothing by hellish crimson fire.
"Impossible…"
Even the cool-headed Suzaku was shaken by the sight.
He'd witnessed true strength—after all, he had devoured a dragon's flesh to gain his power.
He had watched from beginning to end when the guild master hunted the Sword Saint Dragon he would later devour.
The guild master's savage might and the Sword Saint Dragon's dazzling magic had both overwhelmed him.
But now, he suddenly realized—neither of those forces, in his memory, seemed as terrifying as this fire before him.
"But Suzaku is a sacred bird that bathes in flame!"
He roared, and purple-black fire surged along his blade. With a single stroke, he actually held back that deep crimson sea.
It was likely the embryonic form of the cut that would one day wound the Moon Dragon God. Charles, for his part, suspected the "Sword Saint Dragon" branding—why did a so-called sword saint's powers feel so steeped in "netherworld" energy?
Even so, the stroke had indeed checked Charles's attack. But before Suzaku could breathe, a third flame appeared within the blaze.
Orange laced with white—smaller in scale, yet it pierced straight through both flames.
The flames of destruction belonged to Ignia. Even if Charles could wield them, he couldn't reach Ignia's level.
This time, however, he used his own flame.
"Fire Dragon's Crushing Fist!"
Like a god of fire, Charles, wreathed in incandescent blaze, drove a single punch forward.
In the last moment before he blacked out, Suzaku's pupils reflected only a roaring dragon of flame.
And his final thought was, "So this is the power of a First Generation Dragon Slayer?"
(End of Chapter)
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