Mistgun's thoughts swirled as he faced what he believed would be his end. Regret and resignation flooded his heart—regret for not perishing in his homeland, pity for failing to stop his father's plans, sorrow for being unable to protect the guild. Yet, amidst it all, his heart was unexpectedly calm.
He thought of his country, his benefactors, his father, his responsibilities, his companions. Memories of his twenty years of life flashed before his eyes like a kaleidoscope.
Through the haze of his thoughts, he saw the guild's tattered remains, the dimming defensive magic circle, and the Jupiter cannon primed for annihilation. And then, like a streak of light breaking the gloom, he saw a flash of white—a blade slicing through the air.
Swish!
The radiant slash came from nowhere, cleaving through Joseph's dark magic attack as if it were nothing. The same flash of energy streaked past Mistgun, brushing against his mask and blowing the cloak from his shoulders.
The sudden, precise strike left everyone stunned—Joseph, Mistgun, and even the guild members watching from inside.
"Who's there?!" Joseph roared, his eyes darting around. Was this unexpected intruder another of Markov's hidden allies? Or perhaps Kira's backup plan?
Joseph's mind raced through his list of potential threats. Could it be Laxus? No—Laxus wielded lightning magic and was away on a mission. Gildarts? Impossible—his crushing magic and combat style didn't match the clean elegance of this swordsmanship. And Erza's skills, formidable as they were, didn't approach this level of precision.
A voice rang out from the distance, full of derision. "You old fool, what are you doing attacking the prince of our country?"
Joseph turned toward the voice, his gaze narrowing. A figure stood a hundred meters away, framed by the sun. The intense light obscured his features, but he held a long sword in his right hand, the blade gleaming like liquid silver.
Joseph's breath caught. "Who are you?!"
The figure moved forward, his voice carrying a mix of mockery and calm. "Just a nameless swordsman who hates seeing bullies push others around."
As he approached, the figure's appearance became clearer: crimson hair, sky-blue eyes, and a white cloak billowing in the wind. The resemblance to someone they all knew was uncanny.
Lucy gasped. "It's Kira! He's here to save us!"
Others murmured in disbelief. Mira, however, frowned. "That's not Kira."
Lucy looked at Mira, confused. "What do you mean? He looks exactly like Kira!"
Mira shook her head. "No, that can't be him. Kira doesn't know swordsmanship at this level. If he did, he'd have been bragging about it to Erza long ago."
"But—"
"Trust me, Lucy," Mira interrupted firmly. "This isn't Kira. It's someone else entirely."
The swordsman halted a few paces from Joseph, his sword resting casually on his shoulder. His sky-blue eyes gleamed with playful mockery. "Hey, you old, decrepit excuse for a wizard! Do us all a favor: pack up your circus act and crawl back into whatever hole you came from."
Joseph's face twisted in fury. "You dare insult me? Who are you really?!"
Mistgun, still on the ground, stared at the newcomer with wide eyes. The resemblance to Kira was undeniable, but something about his demeanor was entirely different. Mistgun managed to croak out, "You... are you—?"
The swordsman interrupted. "Enough chatter, prince. You've been slacking off. What have you been doing all these years? Playing house? If you're going to fight for change, you need to step up your game."
His tone was cutting but not unkind. The faint aura of sword energy surrounding him, invisible to the untrained, spoke of countless battles and immeasurable skill.
Joseph, unnerved by the stranger's confidence, tried to probe further. "You're not Kira Hopelet. Who are you?!"
The swordsman grinned. "I'm Kira."
Joseph snarled in frustration. "Another Kira?! How many of you are there?!"
Raising his hand, Joseph unleashed another dark spell. "Let's see how well you handle this! Dark Spiral!"
The swordsman didn't flinch. He stepped lightly to the side, weaving through the dark magic with effortless grace. The fluidity of his movements made it look as though he danced between the attacks.
When Jupiter's cannon fired, he stopped, unsheathed his sword in a single motion, and slashed upward.
The sword's radiance cleaved the massive energy blast in two, deflecting it away.
Joseph's jaw dropped. "You deflected Jupiter with a single slash?! Impossible!"
Mistgun, however, was horrified for a different reason. "Idiot! That blast—!"
The redirected magic collided with the Amaterasu defensive circle, obliterating it. The guild, already battered, was left completely exposed.
Inside, Mira and Lucy watched in shock as the protective shield disappeared.
Joseph's laughter boomed. "You've done me a favor, fool! Without the shield, you're all vulnerable. Prepare to meet your end, Fairy Tail!"
Before he could make good on his threat, another streak of light sliced through the air. The massive mobile fortress behind Joseph—Phantom's headquarters—was severed cleanly in two.
Joseph turned in horror to see his guild's stronghold collapsing. The mobile castle's six legs buckled, its massive frame split diagonally by the swordsman's strike.
The mysterious figure sheathed his sword with a flourish and smirked at Joseph. "I told you to go home. Guess you didn't take me seriously."
Joseph's fury reached its peak. "You insolent wretch! You think you can destroy Phantom and get away with it?!"
The swordsman's expression didn't change. "I'm not here for you. I just happened to be passing by. But if you want to keep going, I'll happily show you what a 'nameless swordsman' can do."
Joseph hesitated, his rage warring with a growing sense of fear. The man before him was not someone to trifle with.
Inside the guild, the members began to stir. With the barrier gone, they could now leave to join the fight.
Lucy's resolve hardened as she turned to Mira. "Let's go. We can't just sit here anymore."
Mira smiled softly, nodding. "That's the spirit, Lucy. Let's show them what Fairy Tail is made of."
Outside, the mysterious swordsman stood calmly, waiting for Joseph's decision. Mistgun, regaining his strength, rose slowly to his feet.
The tide of the battle was about to shift.
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