A Demon's Legacy (Fairy Tail x Reader)

8. You Scratch My Back, I Stab Yours

I definitely didn't publish this by accident when it was still a draft. Definitely not. But if you saw that (WHICH YOU DIDN'T because that DIDN'T happen), you can skip on ahead to the line break (***) because you wouldn't have read that yet.

I wanted to add more to this chapter, but I'm having surgery tomorrow. Don't know how I will react to it, might be too out of it to write. So I figured I'd give you all this a little early.

The next chapter will be some injury mending and the destruction of Nirvana. After that, maybe one or two more chapters before we get to the meat of the story.

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Fighting Natsu was easy. Laughably so. The fire dragon had come close to hitting Cobra on occasion, especially early on in the battle when he'd fought without thought as to what he was doing. Unfortunately for Natsu, he was stupid.

Despite knowing that Cobra could hear not only his movements before he made them but also his thoughts as they came to him, Natsu kept sharing his plans with Happy aloud, speaking in a low whisper. Even when Natsu realized he could get the upper hand by acting without thought, he couldn't keep his mouth shut or his mind from wandering.

Fighting the Black Death was difficult. Cobra couldn't remember the last time he'd had a fight such as this. He was almost entirely on the defensive, ducking and dodging around the onslaught.

The Black Death was far better at fighting without thinking than Natsu was. That much was certain. While Natsu's mind had been a jumbled whirlwind, the assassin's was calm. In fact, their mind was blank. Eerily so. Every move they made, each attack, was pure instinct forged by years of experience.

The Black Death pouted mockingly as Cobra drew back again, knowing full well that he could tell they were doing it. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Still scared? How's this? I'll put the stick away, hmm? Fight you with nothing but my own two hands."

Cobra shook his head; lips curled up into a snarl. "Use whatever you want. It's not gonna make a difference. I'm going to win this, and then I'm going to hunt down the rest of that stupid alliance, starting with that blue-haired brat. When I get-"

He dove out of the way as the assassin lunged at him. He ducked, avoiding the blow they'd aimed for his head. They swung their arm again as they landed on Cubellios' coils.

Cobra leaned back, managing to dodge the brunt of the blow. But he didn't move quite fast enough. The tip of the crystal grazed his eye. He hissed and brought a hand up to it on instinct. He stared down at the blood on his fingers in shock. It dripped from his fingers, thick and warm. He could feel more of it running down his face.

"Lucky hit," he declared.

The Black Death tilted their head to the side and hummed playfully. "We'll see about that."

Cobra breathed out a stream of poison and dropped into a crouch. He kicked, a wide sweeping motion, trying to knock their legs out from under them.

The Black Death leapt into the air and stayed there, floating. Cobra narrowed his eyes, glaring at the gold wings attached to the assassin's boots.

Magic items enabling flight weren't uncommon. While they weren't as common as those devices that let a wizard change the colour of their outfits on a whim, the ones that Angel had been gushing about for years. But they were common nonetheless. Hell, Midnight's carpet used a form of levitation magic that essentially granted him flight.

The gold wings flapped every other second. The feathers fluttered and twitched. They seemed delicate. Weak.

If he could hit those, the Black Death would drop. He had no doubt that he could take them then. He'd have the high ground.