At the heart of the library, where the tallest shelves curved inward like silent sentinels, a single object hovered in stillness.
A black glass sphere, roughly the size of a bowling ball, floated above a stone pedestal. Its surface wasn't smooth. Thin, glowing lines ran across the glass like living veins, slowly rotating in patterns that never quite repeated.
Bookshelves surrounded the orb on all sides, towering over it in careful rows, as though the entire library had been built to guard this one artifact.
And at the center of it all, the sphere waited.
Standing before it were two people.
"This here's a magic item. The Lexis Orb," Gajeel said, jerking his thumb toward the floating sphere. "You want to learn about something? This thing'll dig it up for you."
"Magic items?" Albion muttered. "Never heard of 'em."
Gajeel glanced at him sideways. "You really don't know anything, huh?"
"Oh, just shut up and explain," Albion said, rolling his eyes.
Gajeel turned back to the orb. "Objects with magical properties," he said flatly. He lifted his hand toward the sphere. "That's why they're called magic items."
A translucent keyboard shimmered into existence in front of his fingers.
"The magic's stored inside the item," he went on. "So anyone can use it. Mage or not."
Albion circled the pedestal, eyeing the orb from different angles. "So… what does it actually do?"
Gajeel shrugged. "Hard to explain, watch."
His fingers moved across the glowing keys.
"The orb doesn't read the words you type," he said. "It reads what you mean."
A moment later, one of the countless books lining the shelves slid free. Then another. One book drifted forward, gliding through the air until it stopped in front of Gajeel, floating patiently.
"I typed 'fish,'" he said. "So I got a book about fish."
Albion raised a hand,"Question."
Gajeel pointed at him, "Yeah?"
"What if you typed 'how to cook fish'?" Albion asked. "Does it get more specific?"
"Probably," Gajeel said with a lazy shrug. "I dunno. I barely come in here. Who the hell wants to read all day?"
Albion let out a small breath and leaned back against a bookshelf, arms crossed.
"You've had it easier than me, Gajeel." he said quietly. "I don't even know where to start with magic… or with anything. The only reason the Master took me in was because he thought I might have an Innate Magic."
His gaze drifted to the floor.
"But what if I don't awaken at all? That was the deal. That's why I'm even here."
Children were indistinguishable from ordinary people. Until around the age of five or six, "There was no sign, no certainty of whether a child would ever wield Mahō at all.
Then, one day, it awakened. That moment was called an Ethernal Awakening.
Albion exhaled slowly. "I know I could learn magic the slow way… but without a teacher, it probably takes a long time ."
He looked up at Gajeel, not bitter. Just tired.
"I envy you. You were born with something that pointed you forward." A faint, fragile smile touched his lips. "I think… I was only lucky to be born at all."
Gajeel didn't answer.
He walked toward Albion, his face shadowed by the shelves.
"Hm? Gajeel—?"
The punch came without warning.
Albion's head snapped sideways as the blow caught him in the cheek. He stumbled back and hit the floor hard, landing on his backside.
"Ow!" He grabbed his face. "What the hell, Gajeel?!"
Gajeel closed the distance again, grabbed Albion by the collar of his hoodie, and yanked him halfway off the ground.
His expression was empty yet cold.
"Don't get it twisted," he said. "I'm not your friend. I'm not your therapist. I didn't bring you here because I felt bad for you."
"Then why—?"
"I was curious," Gajeel cut in.
Albion blinked, "Curious about what?"
"I wanted to see if you were the kid he mentioned," Gajeel said. "Someone worth watching."
A short, humorless scoff left his lips.
"Guess I was wrong."
His eyes sharpened, voice dropping like a blade.
"You're standing here crying about what might happen to you instead of doing something about it. That's not weakness—that's dead weight."
Then, quieter. Crueler, he added. "You're just a waste of space. Even your own mother didn't want you."
The words struck deeper than the punch.
Memories surged forward from earlier that day.
'I'm your mother. That means your life belongs to me.'
'He's worse than nothing. At least nothing can only disappoint you so much.'
"Shut up…" Albion whispered.
"Huh?" Gajeel leaned closer. "Speak up, brat."
Albion clenched his fist and swung.
The punch landed square against Gajeel's jaw.
Gajeel staggered back a step, fingers brushing his face.
"…Huh." His eyes narrowed. 'That actually hurt. Was he holding back before? No… this is different…'
Albion stood, breathing hard.
"You know what I think?" he snapped. "I think you need to shut up."
He steadied his breath.
"I didn't ask for your pity. And I sure as hell didn't ask for your cruelty. Or your kindness."
His eyes burned.
"I'm tired of people dumping their own insecurities on me. Your bitterness isn't my burden to carry."
Then, with a sharp, mocking smile he spoke.
"You're the loser. And you know it."
Gajeel let out a short laugh. Yet there was no humor in it.
"Me? Don't project your garbage onto me."
He turned away.
"I eat when I'm hungry. I fight because I want to. I don't wait around for permission to exist."
His steps echoed softly between the shelves.
"You wouldn't get it. You've been treated like an object your whole life. Owned and Passed around. So don't pretend you suddenly know what it means to live for yourself."
He stopped at the edge of the aisle and glanced back, eyes hard.
"Live for yourself. Your pleasures. Your hates. That's all that's real."
Then, cold and finally.
"And if you can't live like that? Then you're no wizard at all. Blame your own pride for keeping you weak."
Those were Lionheart's last words before he left the library.
In the hallway, Gajeel slammed his fist into the wall, destroying a small part of it in the process.
"Damn it!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the corridor. "I thought I finally had a lead on you, Metalicana…"
The dark, flame-like markings along his forearms were already there, faintly visible beneath his skin.
"I remember everything," he muttered to himself. "The spells. The drills. Everything you taught me."
His jaw tightened.
"And then you vanished, just like that."
The memory was still clear. It had been a full year since Metalicana disappeared.
"I really thought I found something this time," Gajeel said quietly, lowering his arm. "A real lead."
He exhaled through his nose.
"Next time I see you, old man… I'm punching you in the face."
Sniff. Sniff.
His eyes narrowed, pupils thinning into dark slits.
"…Someone's here."
The corridor stretched long and narrow, its walls built from dark stone blocks. Thick metal beams ran along the length of it, bolted into the rock. Exposed pipes and conduits crawled along the walls and ceiling.
The lighting was bad on purpose.
Only a few dim lamps hung from chains overhead, spaced far apart. Their pale light barely touched the floor, leaving long stretches of the hallway swallowed by shadow. The metal reflected weakly, giving off dull, lifeless glints.
"Come out," Gajeel called. "My nose can pick up anyone."
Soft footsteps answered him.
A small figure stepped out from the shadows and into the light.
Her clothes were casual, slightly oversized. A varsity-style jacket hung loosely from her shoulders, deep navy blue with soft silver-white sleeves.
The ribbed cuffs and collar were lined with thin light-blue stripes, worn from use. Dark gray shorts rested just above her knees.
Chunky sneakers grounded her steps, navy with white soles and pale blue accents.
Small snowflake-shaped earrings glinted faintly at her ears. In her arms, she held a plush seal—soft gray, white, and pale blue—clutched close like a comfort object.
Her midnight-blue hair was thick and faintly wavy, tied into high pigtails with pale blue ribbons. Soft, uneven bangs framed her face, making her look gentler than her serious expression suggested.
Her eyes were a clear azure blue, large and watchful. Against her snow-white complexion, she looked fragile, almost porcelain.
"Who the hell are you?" Gajeel asked, irritation still clinging to his voice.
He shook his head. "Actually, I don't care."
He stepped forward.
"Why do you fight?" the girl asked.
Gajeel stopped right in front of her.
"Why do I fight?" he repeated, leaning in. "People should only fight for themselves.
And I fight because I want to crush strong people."
His lip curled.
"People should only fight for themselves."
He turned away, already losing interest.
"The Master talks about you," the girl said. "The Iron Dragon Slayer. He talks like you're his pride and joy."
"Yeah," Gajeel replied flatly. "Because I'm strong."
"But to me…" she continued, voice calm, "you just look sad."
Gajeel stopped.
Slowly, he turned around.
Veins stood out along his temple, his expression hardening.
"…You just stepped on a landmine, kid."
Gajeel spun and kicked off the ground, dashing straight at her. As he moved, his arm hardened and reshaped into a massive iron club.
He swung.
The strike should have landed.
But the moment his attack connected, her body lost its form, melting into a rush of water. His club passed straight through her, slamming into nothing but air.
Gajeel's eyes widened.
"What the hell is up with your body?" he snapped.
"I take it you've never encountered this kind of spell before," the girl said calmly. "My body is entirely made of water."
She raised a hand in front of him.
"Any physical attack you use is useless against me."
Water gathered in her palm, compressing into a tight, spiraling stream. In the next instant, it fired forward.
The blast struck Gajeel head-on, lifting him off his feet and throwing him several steps back. He dug his heels into the ground, skidding as he fought to stop his momentum.
Crossing his arms, he slammed through the stream, breaking it apart. When the water scattered, he stood soaked from head to toe.
"Tch. Since when does water magic hit that hard?" Gajeel growled.
He snapped his leg out. It stretched and reshaped into a long iron pole, whipping toward her head.
Just like before, her body rippled and dissolved into water for a split second. The pole passed through her face and slammed into the wall behind her with a wet splash.
"Trying the same thing and expecting different results," she said evenly, "is borderline insanity."
"Tch." Gajeel clicked his tongue, pulling his leg back as it turned normal again. "Didn't ask for your advice."
He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you, anyway?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she lifted one hand. Tiny droplets of water gathered around her fingers.
"Water is shapeless," she said. "It can become anything, because it exists in everything."
Cradling the plush seal in one arm, she extended the other. The droplets sharpened, stretching into thin, scythe-like blades.
"Water Slicer."
The blades shot forward.
"So you're pressurizing water," Gajeel muttered. He brought both arms together, reshaping them into twin iron clubs.
"As a nod to your creativity—let's clash head-on!"
He braced himself.
Metal met water with a sharp, echoing crash. Yellow sparks burst from the impact as Gajeel gritted his teeth, forcing the attack back.
"This won't stop me," he growled. "My iron isn't losing to some water mage!"
With a heavy downward slam, he crushed through the attack. The water blades were knocked upward, carving a deep gash into the ceiling as they scattered.
'…Such strength. Is his iron denser than normal?' The girl's gaze sharpened, her view of him shifting slightly.
"My name is Juvia Greywater," she said. "I would normally return a compliment… but we both know that wouldn't be true."
"That works for me!" Gajeel exclaimed "Name's Gajeel Lionheart. My hobby's fighting strong people."
His arms shifted back to normal as he raised his hands casually.
"As for compliments? I only give those to people who can keep up."
Juvia lifted a hand, signaling for him to stop.
"Please. Let's end this. Despite what I said earlier, I have no desire to fight you."
"Oh, that's fine," Gajeel said, grinning. A harsh metallic groan echoed through the hallway.
Thick metal beams and exposed pipes tore free from the walls, ripping out of the stone and rising into the air around him.
Juvia's eyes widened slightly. "…I thought he could only control iron. He can control metal too?"
Gajeel spread his arms, the metal hovering at his sides.
"Let's see what's stronger," he said, teeth bared in a wild grin. "My metal and iron…"
He leaned forward.
"Or your water."
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading this chapter! 🙏
If you're enjoying the story so far, consider adding it to your collection and dropping some Power Stones—it really helps me out and keeps me motivated to write more.
And if you've got any thoughts, complaints, or things you loved (or hated 😅), leave them in the comments. I actually enjoy hearing your opinions and feedback—it helps me improve the story.
See you in the next chapter 👀🔥