Fairy Tail: The Dark Swordsman

75 - Dannis and Laxus vs Jellal

[X784, Tower of Heaven]

— Jellal —

"Death Thrust!"

The darkness erupted like a cannon blast from Dannis' blade, tearing through the throne in a thunderous explosion. Jellal's body blurred into motion, Meteor propelling him aside a split-second before impact.

He sensed the trap—too late. In his dodge, his body was angled straight to receive a lightning-charged fist, courtesy of Laxus.

CRACK—!

Laxus' punch slammed into his crossed arms, shockwaves rippling through Jellal's frame. His body hurtled across the shattered dais and crashed into a wall, spiderwebbing the stone behind him. Dust billowed from the ceiling.

'They're fast', Jellal thought. 'Faster than they should be.'

Before he could reorient, darkness and lightning were already upon him again.

The Thunder God—apt to his name—moved like thunder given flesh—each blow backed with the weight of a Dragon Slayer's fury. The Dark Swordsman's fighting style was colder, more surgical. His blade carved arcs of condensed darkness that slashed through the air like guillotines, his every movement followed by flickering wraiths that lunged at weak points.

Jellal was a blur in their midst, dodging, parrying, and zipping between attacks with Meteor-enhanced speed. He was faster than them in this mode, though only slightly. He ducked under a double palm strike from Laxus, only to twist away from a sweeping crescent slash by Dannis.

He ducked and wove through their coordination, but he could see it—the rhythm. The years of camaraderie between them.

'Their movements are eerily synced. Like they knew what the other person would do before they did it.' Jellal grimaced. 'It's annoying.'

One of the ways to break someone's rhythm was through words and taunts, a skill that Jellal had in spades.

"You still cling to your old master's coat-tails, Laxus?" Jellal's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Every ounce of your power—given by Makarov. What does it feel to be the Titan's grandson, having access to the tutorship of a Wizard Saint must have made your life so easy."

Laxus didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. A roundhouse kick aimed at Jellal's temple nearly clipped him mid-taunt.

He smirked and twisted away, only to speak again as he dodged a cluster of wraiths and their sharpened claws.

"And you, Dannis Martell..." Jellal's tone dipped, more curious now. "Still harboring Zeref's little secret, aren't you? Do your friends even know what you are?"

Dannis didn't reply.

But the flicker of fury that crossed his crimson eyes spoke volumes.

'Ah', Jellal thought, 'I hit something.'

But that was the mistake—he assumed they cared about his words.

They didn't.

They simply pressed harder.

Fists, blades, spells—the throne room became a blur of motion and force. Every step they took demolished stone. Every clash shook the tower's foundation. The stained-glass windows shattered into glittering rain. Wraiths and lightning bolts alike danced across the battlefield, colliding with his own celestial magic.

Jellal threw his hand outward. "Altairis!"

A gravitational sphere expanded, warping the battlefield. Dannis narrowly escaped, a shell of darkness protecting him from the worst of it. Laxus grunted, forcing through the pressure, lightning crackling around his frame to break free of the crushing weight.