Using Ignia's dragon blood, Charles refined a Dragon Blood Crystal.

It was essentially a seed containing the body-type magic of the Flame Dragon God Ignia—practically a special kind of Dragon Lacrima. With it, Charles could reinforce his Dragon Slayer Magic.

Things went even more smoothly than Charles had expected—he certainly hadn't anticipated Ignia suppressing his power and fighting him in human form.

Whatever the case, Charles had achieved his goal.

After undergoing the implantation procedure for the Dragon Blood Crystal, Charles spent a few days fully merging with it.

He clenched his fist, relishing the surge in magic power. After the fusion, even Ignia's clinging, maggot-on-bone-like wounds were completely healed—an unexpected bonus.

Mounting Zhongming, Charles headed out to rendezvous with Stella and the others.

Before he set off to find Ignia, Stella's group had heard there was a guild in Teka Town in Guiltina that specialized in training celebrities.

This guild was called "FAIRY NAIL," meaning Fairy Claw.

Most peculiar of all, its members looked exactly like counterparts of Fairy Tail members, though their personalities were the complete opposite.

Just like the two Fairy Tails of Aslant and Edolas.

Guiltina really was a strange place—between the Five Dragon Gods, the existence of alchemy, and this Fairy Nail, it felt even more like another world than Edolas.

However, upon arriving in Teka Town, before Charles could find the others, he ran straight into… a bullied Frosch.

Every First Generation Dragon Slayer, aside from Charles, had an Exceed partner.

Rogue's partner was named Frosch. Raised by frogs, he genuinely believed he was a frog and always wore a frog suit.

Frosch was also the most troublesome of the lot—hopelessly scatterbrained, easily distracted by anything, and completely directionless, constantly getting lost.

But precisely that made Frosch especially lovable—he was practically the guild mascot of Fairy Tail.

That said, Frosch's luck was incredible. He'd gotten lost so many times, yet Rogue always found him, and he'd never been hurt in the process.

Charles saw it for himself: a group of people chasing Frosch with ropes and bug nets. No matter how they chased, the nets kept landing on each other instead of catching Frosch.

They looked like a bunch of small-time thugs who thought a talking cat (frog) was rare and wanted to sell him for cash. But after all that effort, they still couldn't catch him.

Charles couldn't help wondering if the little guy had some kind of buff—how was he this nimble? Even when he "tripped," he managed to slip right past their grasp.

Panting, the thugs finally cornered Frosch in a dead end.

Of course Charles wasn't going to stand by and watch. He strode over. "Hey! What do you think you're doing to someone else's guild mascot?"

The moment Frosch saw Charles, his eyes welled up. "Charles, you're finally back!"

Seeing Frosch's face, Charles knew something must have happened. Just being hassled by thugs wouldn't make Frosch this upset.

"Hey, punk. You planning to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" a mohawked thug sneered, twirling a bat.

Charles walked over and scooped Frosch into his arms. "It's alright. I've got you."

After soothing Frosch, Charles shot the thugs a sidelong glance. "I don't have time for you. Leave now, before I get angry."

The mohawked thug was about to retort when he met Charles's eyes—eyes that seemed to burn with fire—and he collapsed onto his butt as if a thousand pounds had landed on his shoulders.

The other thugs were equally terrified by that single look. They scuttled away in a panic, forgetting to help up their leader.

Shaking, the mohawked thug cursed his disloyal lackeys—but he ran just as fast.

Charles looked down at Frosch. "Alright. Tell me what happened. Why are you out here alone?"

On the verge of tears, Frosch said, "Rogue and Sting got sick. I wanted to find a doctor for them, but I got lost!"

Charles frowned. Before leaving, he had accounted for various scenarios and left plenty of potions behind. It shouldn't have been serious enough to need a doctor.

"Calm down. What exactly happened? How are the others?"

Frosch looked up. "After Charles left, a group attacked us. Stella and Kagura got hurt.

And Sting and Rogue got weird. They suddenly collapsed and haven't woken up.

We used every potion we had on them, but they still won't wake."

Charles sighed. Frosch's ability to explain was limited. He'd have to see for himself.

He patted Frosch on the head. "You did great coming to find a doctor when everyone was hurt. Don't worry. I'm here now. Everything will be fine."

Holding Frosch, Charles extended his senses and located Stella and the others.

They followed the trail to an inn. Charles went straight to one of the rooms.

Pushing the door open, he found the group in a gloomy state.

Wendy, Sherria, and Lector were alright—they probably hadn't fought and thus weren't injured. The others, however, were all banged up.

Stella and Kagura were both wrapped in bandages to varying degrees. Sting and Rogue were too.

But the two of them were worse off—they lay on the beds with eyes shut, unresponsive.

Charles set Frosch down and took Stella's hand.

Fortunately, while the injuries looked nasty, Stella's constitution was strong; she had largely recovered.

Examining Stella's wounds, Charles said, "Sorry I'm late. Leave the rest to me."

Stella said, "It was the Dragon Eaters. They came to rescue Kyria. We said we could return her, but they wouldn't listen and attacked us.

We weren't about to sit and take it, but they were strong. Especially the man with the sword—Kagura lost to him.

Sting and Rogue saw something strange during the fight, and then they collapsed.

We poured every potion we had into them, but they still won't wake up."

Charles nodded and moved to the beds.

Indeed, there was nothing wrong with their bodies—the problem lay elsewhere.

He placed a hand on each of their foreheads. As he suspected—their souls had been sealed, which was why they remained unconscious.

He frowned. He had a basic understanding of soul magic, but breaking a soul seal wasn't simple.

Still, he wasn't worried. If he couldn't undo it himself, he'd make the person who cast it undo it.

Those Dragon Eaters would be back—not because of their personalities, but because they had a reason they couldn't ignore.

…

On the southern coast of Guiltina, aboard a large ship flying a flag emblazoned with a dragon's head.

A man in skeletal armor gripped the metal ring around Kyria's neck for a long time before letting go in frustration. "Damn it. What the hell is this thing? Even my power can't break it."

He was also a Dragon Eater—he had devoured the Skull Dragon and possessed the terrifying power to reduce everything to dust.

But his strength was useless against that little metal ring.

Of course it was. Charles had crafted it from orichalcum, an anti–Dragon Slayer magitech device called the Lock-Dragon Ring.

With it on, forget casting magic—Kyria's magic and dragon power were completely sealed. Right now she was no different from an ordinary human.

The man in a kimono at the prow of the ship curled his lip. He had already said that brute force wouldn't work.

He had tried using his own Sword Saint Dragon power and failed—no one else was going to succeed either.

The armored man turned and said, "Looks like we're down to one option—find the person who made this thing."

Both sides had reached the same conclusion, which meant the battle was now inevitable.

(End of Chapter)

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