Crimson particles swirled and coalesced.
An armguard, deep red as though forged from blood, materialized, its emerald jewel pulsing with radiant light. Beast-like claws curled slightly at the fingertips.
The summoning took less than a thought.
Rayne's gaze locked onto Laxus as the lightning-wreathed boy charged forward.
His fist, sheathed in the scarlet gauntlet, clenched tight. Feet planted firmly, he pivoted at the waist and threw a straight punch—
—just as Laxus's lightning-coated fist swung toward him.
"THUD—!"
Red and gold collided with a muffled, resonant impact.
A visible shockwave erupted from their clashing fists.
Crimson mana raged like wildfire.
Golden electricity arced like shattered chains.
Two forces—young but ferocious—clashed head-on.
The recoil cratered the ground beneath their feet.
Behind the crimson "flames," Rayne's face burned with exhilaration.
Behind the golden lightning, Laxus's expression twisted.
As a Dragon Slayer, his physical prowess was exceptional—but he was still raw.
Bare flesh against a Divine Dividing Gauntlet was… unwise.
Yet pride refused to let him falter. He schooled his features into a sneer, though the faintest "hiss" of pain escaped.
"I could always not use this, if you'd prefer."
Rayne's smirk was merciless.
"Tch. Barely even tickled."
Laxus scoffed, though the lie was transparent.
Even if he wanted to concede (he didn't), Rayne's magic was Requip. Asking him to fight unarmed would've been pointless—and insulting.
"Sure, sure. Keep gritting those teeth, then."
Rayne had expected nothing less. His taunt was just that—a taunt.
Against Laxus's lightning magic, the Boosted Gear was essential. Without it, every strike would force Rayne to waste mana resisting paralysis.
"You're the one who's gonna be eating dirt!"
Laxus roared back, his mana surging. Lightning crackled wildly, amplifying the force behind his fist.
Rayne didn't retreat. His own mana surged in response, the gauntlet's crimson energy boiling like molten steel.
In seconds, his arm seemed engulfed in scarlet flames.
"Damn. Their mana's already stronger than ours."
"Did I get old while I wasn't looking?"
"Laxus, fine—but since when is Rayne this strong?!"
"Maybe because while you idiots were drinking, he was training."
"No way. This growth's insane even for that..."
The Fairy Tail mages on the hillside watched, equal parts impressed and deflated.
"That weapon…"
Makarov's eyes narrowed at Rayne's gauntlet. Unlike the others, he knew Rayne's true magic. That draconic armguard was no coincidence.
"Kid's got terrifying mana reserves."
Gildarts crossed his arms. Though he couldn't pinpoint why, Rayne's energy felt… off. Not in strength, but in nature.
Back in the fray, Laxus gritted his teeth.
Rayne's pressure was increasing. His boots sank deeper into the soil, skidding backward.
"The hell?! This isn't working—!"
Abandoning the deadlock, he yanked his fist free and thrust his left palm forward.
A intricate golden magic circle flared.
"Lightning Dragon's—!"
The bolt screamed forth, faster than thought. At point-blank range, evasion was nearly impossible.
"—ROAR!"
Rayne's lips curled.
He'd anticipated this. Dodging would've left him open to a relentless assault.
So he didn't.
His pupils burned like embers as he swiped at the lightning with his clawed gauntlet.
The air itself shrieked in protest.
Five crimson trails scarred the sky—
"BOOM!!!"
—as claw and lightning collided.
The shockwave blasted outward, forcing Laxus to shield his eyes.
His mind reeled.
He'd prepared counters for evasion, for blocks—
—but this?
Rayne's claws tore through the bolt like parchment.
Fragmented electricity rained down, scorching the grass into a field of blackened pits.
A cage of lightning.
And at its center, a crimson meteor.
Rayne closed the distance in an instant, his gauntlet drawn back like a coiled spring.
Laxus's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Instinctively, golden magic circles flared around him—
—as his body disintegrated into lightning, zapping him ten meters backward.
Rayne's fist struck empty air.
The compressed shockwave detonated mid-flight, scattering into a gust of wind.
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