Levy's shout had the opposite of its intended effect. Gajeel ran faster.
His target had been obvious from the start. From the moment they had arrived, his eyes had been on the big bald man.
Dressed that much like Jura, he had to be worth fighting.
With that settled in his mind, Gajeel drove straight into the crowd.
"Out of the way!"
One punch sent a black-cloaked figure flying.
"Don't get between me and my target!"
His Iron Dragon's Club cleared a mid-ranking cadre who had been locked in a standoff with a pair of Council soldiers.
"Move!"
Two more with his Iron Dragon's Sword, catching a pair of cultists trying to flank him from either side.
He was treating himself like a battering ram, eyes fixed on his destination, crashing through everything between him and it. Ordinary cult members had no answer for this. They scattered or went down, one after another, and he kept moving.
At the back of the formation, Gomon had noticed this unstoppable man and understood he was going to have to deal with him personally.
He raised his left palm. His Requip Magic activated instantly.
His clothes didn't change at all. What appeared instead was a floating spread of implements arranged in the air in front of him: pliers, shackles, candles, sledgehammers, whips, chains, and several things that didn't have a clear name.
"Those who defy Zeref shall know suffering!"
Gomon swept his hand forward. The tools launched in sequence.
The attack pattern was not entirely unlike Erza's Heaven's Wheel Armor, but the sight of torture implements sailing through the air in formation was something else entirely.
Levy, who had been opening her mouth to shout a warning, quietly closed it again.
Was this man a long-lost relative of Laki's?
What kind of opponent had this idiot picked?
From his own position, Lahar was also grappling with the situation. The agreement had been that Squad Four would serve as support. So why was Gajeel further forward than he was?
The original plan had this bald man as his opponent.
He exhaled. Then again, this was Fairy Tail.
"Change of plan," Lahar said immediately. "We shift to support role. Keep Squad Four covered."
"Yes sir!"
"What even is this attack?"
Gajeel punched through the whips and candles, stepped to the side to let a sledgehammer pass, bit clean through the iron shackles, and kept moving toward Gomon without breaking stride.
"Taste the Triangular Wooden Dragon!" Gomon thrust his palm forward. A crude wooden shape, less dragon than horned donkey, came crashing toward Gajeel.
"That's not going to do anything."
Gajeel sidestepped fractionally and destroyed the ridiculous contraption with his shoulder. Wood splinters scattered in every direction. He stayed lightly alert for hidden mechanisms buried inside.
There were none. It was just rotten wood.
Gomon, however, shouted with total confidence: "You walked right into it! The real attack is behind you!"
An Iron Maiden had already opened at Gajeel's back and snapped shut around him, the dense interior spikes driving inward against his body.
"Now suffer!" Gomon called out, certain it was over.
The Iron Maiden shuddered. Its moving parts strained. Nothing happened.
Gajeel was grinning. The spikes were pressing into him from every angle, and none of them were getting through the iron scales covering his body. One by one they buckled. Several snapped off entirely.
Gomon's eyes went wide. "What? My greatest instrument of torture, it actually..."
Gajeel bit off a section of the Iron Maiden's upper casing in one go. He chewed through another section with a satisfied crunch and tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Not bad flavor. Though it's a real waste, using iron this good to build something like this."
Gomon arrived at a possibility. "Are you perhaps.."
Gajeel swallowed what was in his mouth and drew a deep breath.
"Iron Dragon's Roar!"
"Waaaaah.." The storm of iron blades sent Gomon airborne. His back hit the clock tower wall, punched straight through it, and he kept going, disappearing into the interior hall in a shower of stone and dust. The cracks from the impact climbed all the way up the face of the tower, giving it the look of something that might not stay upright much longer.
"Iron. Dragon Slayer."
Gomon managed to finish the sentence from somewhere in the rubble before his head dropped to one side and he went still.
On the far side of the clock tower, Jerome had been taking the two squad leaders apart piece by piece.
The Dark Sword had destroyed their weapons and eaten holes through their robes. Both men were wounded, black energy seeping out alongside the blood. Pressing their hands against the wounds wasn't stopping anything.
"One more and you're done." Jerome came forward fast, the Dark Sword cutting a diagonal line aimed at finishing both of them at once.
The two were already bracing for it when a young man with a scar across his face appeared directly behind Jerome.
Jerome heard the air move. Before he could turn, a kick connected with the side of his face with considerable force.
"Mr. Doranbolt!" Both squad leaders called out in stunned relief, dropping back onto the ground.
Jerome's body spun and hit the earth hard. The black sword left his hand and skidded away. He pushed himself up, and Mest appeared behind him again, same angle, same posture, same kick to the exact same spot.
Jerome went airborne a second time. He landed head-first against the clock tower wall, knocking loose a scatter of stones.
Mest let out a quiet breath.
The kick Rhodes had used to pull Org out of Jackal's reach that day had stayed with him. It had seemed to suit his teleportation magic well, so he had been working on it. He wondered sometimes whether it looked as good as it felt in practice. The thought surfaced briefly before he caught himself wanting to find something to chew on.
He also noticed, somewhat belatedly, that he might have done additional damage to the clock tower. Which was technically a protected historic site.
What would a centuries-old clock tower taste like? He genuinely wanted to know.
"Abdominal Pain Ailment!"
"Headache Ailment!"
Nothing.
Marly had thrown her Disease Magic at the same soldiers repeatedly and gotten the same result each time: no effect. They weren't just resisting. They seemed to be getting stronger.
It was that blue-haired girl. If she took her out directly...
Marly turned and raised her palm toward Wendy.
A small white cat dropped from above and shifted mid-fall into a young woman with cat ears.
"Not a chance. White Moon Kick!"
Marly went down with a yelp.
The timing had been nearly perfect, landing in the exact moment between intent and action, as though Carla had read her completely.
A small black cat hit the ground beside her and transformed into a broad-shouldered figure with a cat's head, both fists coming down together.
"Finished!"
Levy already had a pair of Magic Sealing Stone handcuffs out. She snapped them onto Marly's wrists with quiet efficiency, then raised her communication Lacrima.
"Marly is in custody. Disease Magic threat eliminated."
On the other end, Lahar very nearly teared up.
Someone had actually remembered to report the situation during a live battle.