"So tell me, Gajeel. Because your answer will decide what I do next." Juvia's azure eyes were no longer calm. They remained steady and composed, yet beneath that stillness rested a cold, controlled hatred.
"Do you or do you not know someone with the last name Ebonveil?"
Around her floated several compressed droplets of water, suspended motionlessly in the air, a clear sign she was fully prepared to fight.
'Wow. Nice one, Gajeel.' Despite the tension filling the corridor, Gajeel slowly tilted his head upward. 'Looks like you seriously screwed this up.'
His red eyes drifted toward the ceiling, then closed as he organized his thoughts.
'I've got two options here. Option A: I tell Juvia that Albion's last name is Ebonveil.' Almost immediately, he imagined the consequences. 'Worst-case scenario, she starts hunting him down. And honestly? It probably wouldn't even take her that long to find him.'
A faint image of Albion flashed through his head. 'He's probably crying somewhere in the guild library by now...'
Gajeel clicked his tongue internally. 'Option B: I keep my mouth shut, and we continue fighting. Now then, which option benefits me more?'
Gajeel never considered himself a complicated person. He believed in living without regrets, chasing whatever brought excitement or meaning to his existence without allowing fear or consequences to dictate his choices.
That belief naturally pushed him toward conflict, violence, and battle—not because he needed a reason, but because fighting made him feel alive.
The rush, the thrill, the pounding excitement running through his veins whenever fists started flying—it was addictive. It was the exact reason he had joined Phantom Lord nearly a year ago.
'The only reason I even started this fight in the first place was because Albion annoyed me back in that library.' The realization was almost laughably simple. 'I don't fight for some grand dream like becoming the strongest. I fight because I enjoy it. Because battle is one of the few things in this world that genuinely excites me.'
Then, Albion's voice echoed through his mind:
«Tell me, Gajeel... why do you fight?»
«Why? 'Cause I like it. Straight up. I fight for the love of the game.»
Gajeel kept his eyes shut. 'Unlike him, I don't sit around questioning the value of my own life.'
«So I guess... I just wanted to know if it's alright for me to keep living.»
'For me, fighting is value. I don't owe Albion anything, and he doesn't owe me anything either. It's not like he and I are friends...'
He could just as easily tell Juvia about Albion. So why didn't he?
More memories surfaced.
«I am not fond of violence. Should I fight, I would only do so reluctantly, as I do not wish to harm others.»
«However, it seems I currently do not possess a choice.»
Annoyance swelled inside Gajeel. 'He's a weak and pathetic person. Both mentally and physically.'
«Magic? I am afraid I have only heard of it today.»
'He doesn't know anything. Not about magic, not about Mages, not about how this world works. It's like nobody ever taught him even the most basic things.'
«I envy you. You were born with something that pointed you forward. I think... I was only lucky enough to be born at all.»
Gajeel's brows furrowed. 'Pathetic. So pathetic that it pisses me off.'
His mind drifted back to their fight in the guild hall. Albion had been weak—weak in spirit, weak in hand-to-hand combat, weak in the way he carried himself. But more than anything else, he had lacked the resolve to fight.
Looking back, Albion had never truly fought to win; he had only been trying to survive.
«I wanted to see if you were the kid he mentioned. Someone worth watching.»
An unfamiliar feeling twisted inside Gajeel's chest. It resembled regret, but there was something else beneath it.
«You smile the same way I do, Gajeel.»
Gajeel's eyes narrowed slightly. 'That's right... Albion was the only person in this entire guild who looked at me differently.'
Not as a fighter. Not as some violent idiot obsessed with combat. But as a kid. A kid who was hurting.
«A hollow space gets left behind when the person meant to protect you disappears. A place nothing ever really fills again... no matter how strong you become.»
Gajeel's jaw tightened. The only other person who had ever looked at him that way was Metalicana.
«Hoping someone would come looking for me. Hoping someone would choose me.»
'I didn't want your help. I never asked for it.'
«So... is it okay if we start... right here?»
A vein pulsed faintly near Gajeel's temple. 'I don't need your stupid sympathy. That's why I hate—'
«I have no doubt you'll become one of the strongest wizards of your generation.»
The memory of Metalicana's voice struck harder than he expected. Bitter irritation welled up inside him.
'I hate the way you make me feel, Albion.'
Slowly opening his eyes, Gajeel looked toward Juvia, who still floated in silence awaiting his answer. There was no hesitation left in his voice.
"I can't stand good people," Gajeel muttered. "They piss me off. People who get hurt, betrayed, abandoned... and somehow still choose to forgive the people who did it to them."
A bitter smile spread across his face.
"They act like forgiveness is some noble thing, like there's value in letting people walk all over you, like pain's supposed to disappear just because you decided to 'move on.' It's disgusting."
He remembered their conversation in the library, the way Albion spoke, the way he looked at him.
"If somebody hurts me, I remember it," Gajeel said bluntly. "If somebody betrays me, I hate them for it. Simple. At least hatred's honest. People who smile through everything, who pretend they can forgive anyone no matter what... those kinds of people make me wanna vomit."
"Why should I care about your beliefs?" Juvia responded immediately. "Don't try forcing your ideals onto someone else. It's rude... and disrespecting."
Yet beneath her calm exterior, her mind raced. 'Even though I haven't known him for very long, I thought I understood Gajeel's personality. The recklessness, the aggression, the constant hunger for battle. He seemed simple. A muscle-brained combat addict who lives for fighting. So why is he acting differently all of a sudden?'
Then a realization struck her, her face flashing with genuine surprise. 'Wait... is he trying to protect someone? But why? And who?'
"There's something you gotta understand about me, Juvia." Gajeel slowly rose to his full height, his expression twisting into predatory malice. "I'm here to fight for underdogs everywhere."
The instant those words left his mouth, Gajeel vanished. Before Juvia could process his movement, he was directly in front of her. His right fist drove forward like a cannon, slamming straight into her lower torso.
"UGHH—!"
The impact folded her instantly, a violent cough burst from her lips as raw force traveled through her abdomen and ribs.
Before her body could register the full extent of the pain, Gajeel grabbed her collar, spun violently, and hurled her down the corridor.
She skipped across the flooded floor, rolling through the shallow water before crashing to a halt several meters away.
"KH—COUGH! ...GAHH— BLEHH!"
Juvia collapsed onto all fours, water splashing beneath her trembling hands as she vomited onto the floor. Her breathing became ragged as blinding pain radiated through her stomach.
'I... wasn't able to react...' Her azure eyes trembled as she stared at him from a distance. 'He caught me completely off guard. But that punch... I didn't sense any magical power from it at all. Don't tell me... that was his natural strength?'
A single strike without magic had already forced her to her knees.
Gajeel ignored her entirely, running a hand through his hair. "I'm such an idiot... Why the hell didn't I think of this sooner?"
He flicked his fingers toward a submerged metal beam beneath the water. The rusted steel trembled, broke free from the debris, and floated into the air toward him. Catching it effortlessly with both hands, Gajeel opened his mouth unnaturally wide.
The sound of metal being pulverized between his teeth echoed through the damp hallway.
As he devoured the iron, old instructions echoed through his mind in Metalicana's booming tone:
«The iron you produce will not be the brittle metal of human forges. It will be stronger, denser, closer to my own scales than anything forged by mortal hands. This magic grants you the traits of an Iron Dragon. You will reshape your flesh into living steel.»
«You will command metal born from the earth. Bend it. Call it. Dominate it. And like all Dragon Slayers... you will feed upon your element.»
«Feed? You're saying I can just eat iron, old man?«
«You will consume iron to replenish your strength. Metal from weapons, from walls, from chains. But remember this well: you cannot consume iron that you create yourself.»
'I'm seriously an idiot,' Gajeel thought, chewing through the steel with ease. 'There's iron everywhere around me.'
As he swallowed the final piece, a silver-gray aura erupted from his body, swirling around him in violent, spiraling currents. The aura grew so dense and dark that his figure vanished into a pitch-black silhouette, leaving only his bright eyes glowing like a predator lurking in the shadows.
Wisps of magic crackled upward, lifting fragments of shattered stone and debris into the air. The floor groaned and fractured under the sheer density of his pressure.
Juvia forced herself back to her feet, her face turning pale. "I-I don't understand..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "How is your magical power increasing? It's even greater than mine now... What exactly are you?"
Gajeel grinned, a wide, savage streak across his dark silhouette. "I'm a Dragon Slayer."
His voice boomed through the corridor as the surrounding water trembled violently under his aura.
"You said you didn't believe in dragons, right? Then get ready..." The floating debris shook violently as Gajeel cracked his neck.
"...'cause I'm about to show you just how real dragons are."