The Execution
Borg's massive axe cleaved through the air—only to be caught mid-swing by Rayne's crimson-gauntleted hand.
CLANG!
Sparks erupted as the blade struck the armored palm. Not a scratch. Not even a dent.
"This...?!" Borg's confidence shattered. He barely had time to yell "Leer, hel—" before Rayne's fingers pierced the axehead like wet paper.
The blacksmith's son twisted his grip, shattering the weapon with a screech of metal.
Borg kicked wildly, but Rayne intercepted it with a raised knee. Then—
WHIPLASH!
A heel-drop hammered Borg's guard arm into his own skull. The giant crumpled, eyes rolling back.
Swarm
"Rustle... rustle..."
The forest came alive. Hundreds of crimson eyes blinked open in the shadows—a tidal wave of rats surging from every direction.
Leer's green robe billowed as his magic circle pulsed. "Drown in despair, brat."
Rayne didn't flinch. He yanked Borg's broken axe free as scarlet mana erupted around him like hellfire—
BOOM!
A golden thunderstorm annihilated the swarm from above. Laxus hovered mid-air, lightning arcing between his teeth. "Quit hogging the fun, Rayne!"
Leer's pupils shrank. That mark—the black Fairy Tail emblem on Laxus' chest—meant game over.
No Negotiations
"I'll make the kids jump to their deaths if you—!" Leer screeched, flute raised.
Rayne laughed.
The axe became a crimson guillotine as he spun—
SPLAT.
Leer's torso separated mid-air, his final sight being a small, expressionless girl (Kanna) standing atop the vine hut.
No children leaped. No hostages lost.
"Tch. Backup?" The upper half of "Le"er hit the ground just as his own rats—now frenzied by blood—swarmed his twitching remains.
"NO! STOP! AAAAAAGH—!"
The screams lasted precisely 6.3 seconds.
Epilogue
Rayne flicked gore off the axe handle. "Told you we didn't need a plan."
Laxus landed, lightning still crackling. "Damn right. Weaklings."
Above them, Kanna poked a surviving rat. It froze, then fainted.
"Dinner?" she asked.
The guild stamp on Rayne's shoulder gleamed in the moonlight.
Somewhere, Makarov sneezed.