The clash of water and iron faded into memory.
What replaced it was not the roar of battle, but the quiet howl of wind against stone.
Long before Gajeel Lionheart learned to turn his body into iron…
Before his arms hardened into weapons…
He was just a child.
And trapped in a world that showed no mercy to the weak.
A small boy with black hair and sharp red slit pupils tore through the forest, laughter spilling from his lips as he darted between trees.
"HHRRRAAAUUGHH!!"
A deafening roar shook the branches behind him.
Gajeel glanced over his shoulder, eyes locking onto the massive bear barreling after him.
"Hahaha!" he shouted gleefully. "Keep chasing me, you fat stuffed animal!"
"My dad and I are gonna have you for lunch!"
As if insulted, the bear let out another furious growl and charged harder.
It was large. Powerful. Dangerous.
But it was also fat and slow.
For now, Gajeel could outrun it.
His small legs burned as he burst past the tree line and into a clearing just outside the forest. Panting, drenched in sweat, he stumbled and dropped onto the ground, landing hard on his backside.
He turned.
The bear was only four feet away.
Close enough that he could see its teeth.
"I did my part…" Gajeel wheezed, grinning despite his exhaustion. "Now it's your turn…"
The bear lunged.
Gajeel inhaled deeply and screamed at the top of his lungs.
"SAVE ME, METALICANA!!"
The sky split.
An enormous shadow swallowed the clearing as something ancient descended from above.
When Metalicana landed, it was not feet that struck the earth, but claws.
The ground shattered on impact, stone and dirt erupting outward in a violent shockwave.
The bear froze.
Slowly, trembling, it turned around.
Behind it stood a monster far greater than itself.
Metalicana's body was colossal and serpentine, built like a towering reptilian war-beast. Thick, powerful limbs anchored him to the fractured earth. A long, whip-like tail coiled behind him, talons curved like forged blades digging into stone.
His scales were not merely metallic in color.
They were iron.
Layered like overlapping plates of armor, some smooth and polished like tempered steel, others rough and pitted from countless battles. Along his spine, jagged ridges rose like blades, uneven and brutal.
From his skull curved thick, twisted horns like iron spikes hammered into place. Smaller barbed protrusions lined his jaw and neck, giving him the silhouette of a living weapon.
"You called, Gajeel?" Metalicana rumbled, his voice deep enough to vibrate the air itself.
Despite his terrifying form, his expression almost resembled a grin.
"Dad!" Gajeel waved excitedly from the ground. "I got us lunch!"
"Nice work, brat."
Metalicana raised one massive claw in a crude thumbs-up before shifting his gaze to the bear.
The animal trembled violently, instincts screaming at it to run, but its legs refused to move.
Metalicana's grin sharpened. "Now… what to do with you?"
The answer came instantly.
His tail lashed out.
It moved like a sword strike — clean and precise.
There was a single metallic shing as it cut through the air.
Then silence.
A moment later, the bear split cleanly in two.
The forest grew still again.
And young Gajeel beamed.
Nightfall settled quietly over the clearing.
The forest had gone still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of nocturnal life.
Gajeel swallowed loudly as he tore into his dinner.
Before him rested a solitary, succulent cut of meat, its surface kissed with a deep mahogany-brown sear that glistened in the firelight.
A single, clean white bone protruded from one end—smooth and polished—serving as a natural handle.
He bit down without restraint.
His upper body was clad in a cropped, sleeveless training top. The dark charcoal-gray tunic stopped just above his waistline, its hem slightly torn, not from neglect, but from constant movement and battle.
Draped over one shoulder hung an asymmetrical iron-scale mantle, dark gray-black in color, falling diagonally across his torso.
It added weight to his silhouette without restricting him.
Fitted dark pants covered his lower half. Flame-like markings trailed along his arms, stark against his skin, and a simple dark cloth wrap was wound tightly around one forearm.
Plain, soft leather boots covered his feet.
"Thish food ish freakin' delicious!" Gajeel mumbled around a mouthful, ripping off another large chunk with his teeth.
He swallowed hard.
"I dunno why you don't want any," he added, gesturing with the bone. "But hey, more for me."
Not far from him sat Metalicana.
The dragon's long, narrow head tilted slightly, heavy angular snout resembling iron ore carved into shape. Massive fangs lined his jaws like sharpened steel stakes, some chipped with age, none dulled by it.
His vast wings were folded at his sides. Unlike ordinary dragon wings, dark iron-like struts ran through the membranes, reinforcing them like the framework of a war machine.
His eyes were small and circular, black sclera swallowing any hint of pupil.
Gajeel paused mid-chew.
"What?"
"Your face looks full of rust," Metalicana said flatly.
Gajeel scowled.
"So does yours."
Silence returned, comfortable and unbothered.
Some time later, Gajeel exhaled deeply and leaned back, rubbing his stomach.
"Ooooh… that hit the spot," he groaned, dropping onto his back.
"Gajeel," Metalicana rumbled as he lowered himself to sit. Despite his colossal form, the motion carried a strange, almost human casualness. "How much do you know about magic?"
"Hm…" Gajeel placed a finger to his chin, thinking. "The nature of Mahō, huh?"
He shifted, folding his hands behind his head.
"Mahō—what people call magic—ain't some fancy miracle," he began. "It's life. That's it."
"It runs through everything. Not just humans."
He lifted his fingers as if counting.
"Bugs crawling under the dirt. Trees with roots buried deep. Beasts tearing through the wild. Even the land itself's got it flowing through it."
"If it's breathing, it's got Mahō."
He lowered his hand again.
"It ain't unnatural. Ain't some blessing dropped from the sky. It's just life energy with shape." He shrugged. "The same way blood runs through your veins, Mahō runs through the world."
He blinked, realizing something.
"Oh—and the people who actually use it are called wizards."
A smirk tugged at his lips.
"Or mages, if they're trying to sound important."
Metalicana let out a low rumble that might have been amusement.
"You are not wrong," he said. "But you are missing something."
Gajeel sat up, brow furrowed.
"What?"
"The force now commonly called magic has borne many names across history," Metalicana began, voice steady and ancient.
"In the oldest surviving records, it was known as Mahō—the breath of life that flows through all living things. As empires rose and languages changed, the word shifted. Translated. Shortened. Reshaped to suit new tongues and new beliefs."
"Today, most say 'magic.' Scholars and traditionalists still say 'Mahō.'"
He lowered his head slightly, iron scales scraping softly.
"The difference is not in the power itself."
"It is in how one understands it."
The fire crackled between them.
And for once, Gajeel didn't have a quick reply.
"Hey… Metalicana."
"…"
Gajeel scratched the back of his neck, face twisted in visible discomfort, like the words physically hurt to say.
"I just… wanted to tell you something."
The fire crackled between them.
"…I'm glad I met you."
Silence.
Gajeel huffed and looked off in a random direction, refusing eye contact.
"I don't remember my real parents. Not their faces. Not their voices. Nothin'."
"But honestly? I don't really care."
He leaned back slightly, propping himself up on his hands.
"Guess it's 'cause I never felt like I was missing anything."
His red eyes flickered upward to the night sky.
"I always kinda thought of you as my parent anyway…"
"GGRRRRRAAAAAAANNN—"
A horrendous metallic grinding noise tore through the clearing.
Gajeel shot upright.
"…Oi."
He squinted at the massive dragon.
"Are you sleeping?!"
Metalicana didn't move.
Another grinding rumble escaped him.
Gajeel's eye twitched.
"Tch! I was being nice to you, you rust-brained idiot!"
He flopped back down aggressively, folding his arms.
"Tsk. I swear this is the last time I'm ever being nice to you."
A few seconds passed.
The "grinding" slowly evened out into very obvious snoring.
Meanwhile, in the darkness, hidden from view.
A small smile tugged at Metalicana's massive iron maw.
One Gajeel never saw.
The following morning, a fully awakened iron dragon tore through the sky above the clouds.
Metalicana's massive wings carved through the air with terrifying force, propelling him forward at a speed no ordinary wizard could ever hope to match.
The wind shrieked past his iron scales as sunlight flashed across his armored body.
Wrapped tightly around his tail like excess luggage was a half-asleep Gajeel.
The boy's hair whipped violently in the wind, his eyes half-lidded in misery.
"I can't even sleep because of this stupid wind!" he shouted, voice nearly swallowed by the air pressure.
With a gleam in his dark, metallic eyes, Metalicana suddenly angled downward.
He dropped, like a missile.
The sky twisted around them as he spiraled toward the earth in a controlled descent.
Just before impact, his wings flared wide.
BOOM.
The force of his landing cracked the mountain peak beneath him, smoke and debris exploding outward in a thick cloud.
Gajeel was unceremoniously unwrapped from the dragon's tail and tossed onto the rocky surface.
He coughed violently.
"Cough—! It is way too early for this!" he complained loudly. "Where are we anyway?!"
Metalicana lowered his tail and gently placed him upright.
"Look around, iron boy."
Still annoyed, Gajeel rubbed his eyes and glanced at his surroundings.
The smoke cleared.
They stood atop a narrow mountain peak. Jagged cliffs stretched downward on all sides, and in the far distance, other small mountains rose like broken teeth against the horizon.
The wind here was colder.
"This'll sound strange," Metalicana said suddenly. "But tell me… do you feel any different?"
Gajeel blinked.
"Different how?"
"Like something has been engraved into your mind. A fragment of knowledge that wasn't there before."
Gajeel frowned.
"…No. I feel the same as yesterday."
Metalicana nodded slowly.
"I see. Then you have not undergone an Awakening."
"An Awakening?" Gajeel raised a brow. "Never heard of it."
"It is the instant a person's magic manifests for the first time," Metalicana explained. "This moment is known as the Eternal Awakening."
He lowered his massive head slightly.
"When it occurs, one does not merely gain power. A fragment of understanding is engraved directly into the mind."
He tapped a claw gently against his own temple.
"It is incomplete knowledge. No mastery. No control. Only a starting point."
Gajeel scratched his cheek.
"So if I don't get this Awakening thing… Does that mean I can't use magic?"
"If that were true," Metalicana replied calmly, "society would be absurdly binary."
He lifted one massive claw.
"Innate Magic," he began. "A unique power engraved into the body at birth. Most people possess one and only one."
"The Eternal Awakening grants access to Innate Mahō." He raised his other claw.
"But it does not grant Mahō itself."
He held both claws out in front of Gajeel.
"On this side, an Awakened individual."
On the other hand?
"A Non-Awakened individual."
"Which one is stronger?"
"Oh! I know!" Gajeel shot his hand into the air. "The Awakened one!"
"Wrong."
Metalicana crossed his claws into a large X.
"Neither is inherently stronger."
"Huh?! That's cheating!" Gajeel protested.
Metalicana ignored him.
"An Awakening grants advantages. An Attribute. An instinctive understanding. A higher potential ceiling."
"But it does not create energy from nothing."
He gestured toward the mountains below.
"A Non-Awakened person has a lower ceiling. Yes."
"But it is not zero."
"That distinction," he said firmly, "is important."
Gajeel stared at him.
A thin trail of smoke practically rose from his ears.
"…Now I'm confused."
Metalicana let out a rumbling chuckle.
"Fear not."
He straightened, iron wings spreading slightly behind him.
"With me as your teacher… and with you learning my magic…"
His voice deepened.
"I have no doubt you will become one of the strongest wizards of your generation."
Gajeel's eyes widened.
"For real?!" he gasped, pupils practically sparkling. "With strength like that, there won't be anyone stronger than me!"
"For real, real," Metalicana nodded.
"I will teach you my magic."
The wind howled around them.
"Iron Dragon Slayer Magic."
He lifted his head proudly.
"My name is Metalicana. I am the Iron Dragon."
The mountain peak felt smaller somehow.
And on that fractured peak, beneath the roar of the wind—
the Iron Dragon Slayer was born.