The courtyard of Castle Mercurius was a slaughterhouse. The stench of iron and sulfur was suffocating, rising from the cooling corpses of the four dragons Blake had already dispatched. The ground was slick with multicolored blood—green from the Jade Dragon and purple ichor from the Poison Dragon.
The remaining fifteen dragons had backed away, forming a wide, trembling perimeter around the lone human standing in the center of the carnage. Their reptilian eyes darted between the decapitated body of Zirconis and the man who was currently wiping a speck of dust from his coat.
Panic, a sensation foreign to their kind for four hundred years, began to fracture their unity.
"He... he is not a mage," a smaller, Wyvern-type dragon hissed, its wings fluttering nervously. "Magic does not cut scales like paper. Magic does not crush skulls with air pressure. This is... something else."
"We cannot win," another dragon, this one sleek and blue, whimpered. "We must flee! The city is full of humans! We can feed elsewhere! We can regain our strength away from this... monster!"
The fear was contagious. Four of the smaller dragons—those who relied on speed rather than armor—broke ranks. They shrieked, launching themselves into the sky, desperate to put miles between themselves and the demon in the courtyard. They turned their backs on the castle, flying frantically toward the southern districts of Crocus.
Blake watched them go. His eyes narrowed, his Observation Haki tracking their trajectories instantly.
If he wanted to, he could have stopped them. A flying slash of compressed air with Conqueror's Haki could bring them down before they cleared the castle walls.
But he hesitated. His hand lowered.
Natsu. Gajeel. Laxus. Wendy. Sting. Rogue.
Blake's mind expanded outward, sensing the frantic magical signatures rushing toward the castle. The Dragon Slayers were coming. They were running on adrenaline and the desperate need to prove that their magic—magic designed to kill dragons—was not a lie. In the original timeline, they had struggled. They had failed to kill a single dragon. It had haunted them.
If I kill them all here, Blake thought, his expression impassive, the 'Dragon Slayers' will never slay a dragon. They need this. They need to bleed, to fight, to overcome.
He watched the five fleeing dragons disappear over the ramparts, heading straight for the approaching guild alliance.
"Consider that a gift, Natsu," Blake whispered. "Don't disappoint me."
He turned his attention back to the courtyard.
Ten dragons remained.
They were the largest, the proudest, and the most heavily armored. They had seen the others flee and had chosen to stay—not out of bravery, but out of a paralyzed mixture of pride and the realization that turning their backs on Blake Corvus was a death sentence.
The massive portcullis of the castle groaned as a heavy-set, steel-scaled dragon stepped forward to block the exit. Another, wreathed in storm clouds, hovered above. They were circling the wagons.
Blake cracked his neck. CRACK.
He looked at the ten behemoths.
"You stayed," Blake said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of a judge passing a sentence. "Bad choice."
A massive dragon with scales that looked like rusted iron roared. "Do not mock us, human! The cowards fled, but we are the elite! We are the vanguard of the Dragon King! You may have surprised Zirconis, but there are ten of us! Ten breaths! Ten jaws! You cannot dodge the sky falling on you!"
"Elite?" Blake chuckled. The sound was dry and terrifying. "In my eyes, you're just ten more loose ends."
Blake's aura shifted.
Up until now, he had used mostly physical stats and Haki. But now, he tapped into the deeper reservoir of his powers. The air in the courtyard began to vibrate. Dust particles suspended in the air stopped moving.
A black, chaotic energy began to swirl around Blake's right arm. It wasn't Haki. It wasn't Reiatsu. It was Anti-Magic.
"Let's see how your 'invincible' scales hold up," Blake said, "when the magic binding them together ceases to exist."
The Iron Dragon and a Granite Dragon charged first. They were tanks, relying on sheer mass to crush the tiny human. They moved with surprising speed, closing the distance from opposite sides to sandwich Blake.
"CRUSH HIM!" the Iron Dragon roared.
Blake didn't move his feet. He held out both arms to his sides.
His right hand was coated in the black void of Anti-Magic. His left hand crackled with red Conqueror's Haki.
The dragons collided with his palms.
BOOM.
The sound was like two mountains slamming together. The ground beneath Blake vaporized into fine powder, creating a crater ten meters deep.
But Blake was still standing. He was holding the two dragons at bay, his palms pressed against their snouts, stopping thousands of tons of momentum with raw physical strength.
The Iron Dragon pushed harder, its eyes bulging. "Die! Why won't you die?!"
"Because," Blake said, looking at the Iron Dragon. "You're made of magic."
The Anti-Magic on Blake's right hand flared. It poured into the Iron Dragon's snout.
Dragons in this world were essentially solidified ethernano. Their scales were hard because of magic. Their muscles moved because of magic.
When the Anti-Magic hit, the "Iron" scales didn't break—they dissolved.
The Dragon screamed—a sound of confusion and agony—as the metal scales on its face turned into grey dust. The structural integrity of its head failed.
Blake's hand sank into the dragon's flesh like it was warm butter.
"Black Divider."
Blake ripped his hand sideways. The Anti-Magic wave sliced through the dragon's head, erasing the skull, the brain, and the neck in a single, silent stroke. The Iron Dragon collapsed, headless, its body dissolving slowly into mana particles.
To his left, the Granite Dragon saw its partner vanish. It tried to pull back.
"Oh no," Blake said. "You don't get to leave."
Blake's left hand, wreathed in Haki, clamped onto the Granite Dragon's nose horn.
"Ryou: Shockwave."
He didn't punch. He simply pulsed his Haki through the horn.
The shockwave traveled down the dragon's spine.
SNAP. SNAP. SNAP.
The sound of vertebrae shattering echoed like gunfire. The Granite Dragon went limp instantly, its spinal cord pulverized from the neck to the tail tip.
Kill Count: 7.
"GET INTO THE AIR!" the Storm Dragon shrieked. "HE CANNOT FLY WITHOUT WINGS!"
Three dragons—the Storm Dragon, a Blizzard Dragon, and a Gravity Dragon—shot upward, hovering high above the castle turrets. They believed distance was safety. They believed the sky was their domain.
"Foolish ground-walker!" the Gravity Dragon bellowed. "Gravity Press!"
A purple circle appeared on the ground around Blake, increasing gravity tenfold. The stones pulverized into dust.
Blake stood in the center of the gravity well. His coat didn't even ruffle. His physical strength was so immense that ten times gravity felt like a light breeze.
"Is that it?" Blake called out.
He bent his knees. The ground beneath the gravity well shattered, unable to handle the force he was exerting.
"Geppo."
BANG.
Blake kicked the air. The sound was like a cannon firing. He rocketed upward, piercing through the gravity field like a bullet through paper.
He ascended hundreds of feet in a blink, appearing right in front of the Gravity Dragon's face.
The dragon's eyes bulged. "Impossible!"
"What goes up," Blake said, raising his fist, "must come down."
He coated his arm in Ryou, focusing the Haki into a piercing point.
He punched the Gravity Dragon in the gut.
"Bone Crusher."
The impact was sickening. The dragon folded around Blake's fist. The shockwave blew out the dragon's back, sending a mist of blood and spinal fluid into the clouds. The beast lost all aerodynamic lift and plummeted like a stone, crashing into the castle walls and taking a tower down with it.
Blake didn't land. He kicked the air again, turning sharply toward the Blizzard Dragon.
The ice beast panicked. "Ice Dragon's Roar!"
A tornado of absolute zero shards blasted toward Blake.
Blake sheathed his energy sword—dissipating it for a moment—and cupped his hands at his side. He wasn't charging energy; he was winding up a physical motion.
He thrust his palms forward, striking the air itself.
"Six King Gun (Rokuogan)."
A massive shockwave of pure kinetic energy, amplified by Haki, blasted from his palms. It hit the Ice Roar.
The physical shockwave shattered the ice magic. It tore through the blizzard and slammed into the dragon behind it.
The Blizzard Dragon's chest caved in. The impact destroyed its lungs and heart instantly. It fell silently from the sky.
Only the Storm Dragon remained airborne. It turned to flee, wings beating frantically.
"You're not going anywhere," Blake growled.
He re-summoned his blade. He held it vertically.
He kicked the air, appearing above the fleeing dragon.
He fell toward it, gravity aiding his descent.
"Vertical Cleave."
He drove the sword downward.
He pierced the Storm Dragon between the wings, the blade extending through the beast's body and coming out the chest.
Blake rode the dying dragon down to the earth.
CRASH.
The Storm Dragon hit the courtyard pavement with Blake standing on its back, the sword pinned through its heart like an insect in a collection.
Kill Count: 10.
Blake stepped off the Storm Dragon, pulling his energy blade free. The black aura of the sword pulsed, hungry for more.
Suddenly, the air around him shimmered.
Observation Haki flared in Blake's mind. Behind. Left.
A Camouflage Dragon, scales shifting to match the background, lunged from the shadows of the castle wall. It was a silent killer, an assassin among monsters. Its jaws were inches from Blake's neck.
Blake didn't turn around.
He drove his left elbow backward.
CRACK.
His elbow, coated in black Hardening Haki, connected blindly but perfectly with the invisible dragon's nose.
The dragon materialized instantly, stumbling back, clutching its shattered snout, tears welling in its reptilian eyes.
"You can hide your body," Blake said, turning slowly. "But you can't hide your intent. You scream it."
Before the Camouflage Dragon could recover, a cloud of purple gas enveloped Blake.
The Poison Dragon had unleashed its breath weapon.(Another one)
"Dissolve!" the Poison Dragon hissed from the other side of the cloud. "My venom melts flesh! Breathe it in!"
Inside the cloud, Blake frowned. The acid was irritating. It was eating at his clothes.
He swiped his sword horizontally.
The sheer wind pressure from the swing blew the entire gas cloud away instantly, clearing the courtyard.
Blake stood there, shirtless now—his coat and shirt dissolved—revealing a torso scarred from training and rippling with muscle. His skin, coated in invisible Haki, was untouched.
"You ruined my coat," Blake stated. His tone suggested this was a capital offense.
He looked at the Poison Dragon.
He vanished. Soru.
He appeared directly under the dragon's long, serpentine neck.
He delivered an uppercut.
"Rising Dragon Fist."
The punch caught the dragon under the chin. The force launched the massive beast ten meters into the air.
As it hung there, suspended by physics, Blake jumped.
He spun in the air, his leg turning black with Haki.
"Roundhouse."
He kicked the dragon's head sideways.
The neck snapped with a sound like a tree trunk breaking. The Poison Dragon spun wildly and crashed into the castle moat.
Blake landed and immediately turned to the Camouflage Dragon, which was trying to sneak away.
Blake extended his hand.
"Vacuum palm."
He used a technique similar to a suction, manipulating the air pressure to pull the dragon toward him.
The dragon scrambled for grip, but slid across the stones.
As it reached him, Blake stepped forward and drove his energy sword straight into its open mouth.
"Shhh," Blake whispered.
The blade pierced the brain. The dragon went limp.
Kill Count: 12.
Three dragons left.
A Diamond Dragon, glistening with translucent, indestructible scales.
A Scissor-Jaw Dragon, its mouth formed like a massive guillotine.
And the Crimson Dragon, the leader, watching with a look of dawning horror.
The Diamond Dragon stepped forward. It was trembling, but its nature was defense.
"My scales..." it stuttered. "My scales are the hardest substance in the world. You broke iron. You broke granite. But diamond reflects all force."
Blake walked toward it. The Haki around him was becoming so dense that red lightning was arcing off his shoulders, cracking the ground with every step.
"Diamond is hard," Blake agreed. "But it's brittle."
He sheathed his sword. He wanted to feel this one.
He walked right up to the dragon. The beast bit down, trying to crush him.
Blake caught the upper and lower jaws with his bare hands.
He held the dragon's mouth open. His muscles bulged, veins popping against his skin.
"Let's see," Blake grunted, "what breaks first."
He began to pull.
He wasn't using magic. He was using the raw, god-tier physical strength he had cultivated to rival the creatures of One Piece.
He pried the dragon's jaws apart.
CREAK.
The dragon whined, its eyes wide with panic. It thrashed, clawing at Blake, but Blake's Haki armor broke the claws.
"Open wide," Blake roared.
With a final, sickening tear, Blake ripped the Diamond Dragon's jaw unhinged.
The dragon reeled back, screaming silently.
Blake stepped in. He pulled his right arm back. The Haki on his fist condensed until it was a singularity of black and red.
"Galaxy Impact."
He punched the dragon in the chest.
The impact point shattered. The diamond scales didn't just crack; they exploded into dust. The force traveled through the dragon's chest cavity and blew out its spine.
The Diamond Dragon collapsed, a pile of glittering rubble and gore.
Kill Count: 13.
The Scissor-Jaw Dragon saw this and broke.
It turned and ran. It didn't fly; it scrambled on all fours toward the gate, trampling over the corpses of its brethren.
"I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"
Blake looked at the fleeing beast.
He picked up a massive chunk of the Diamond Dragon's corpse—a sharp, jagged spike of crystal scale the size of a spear.
He leaned back, aiming.
"You don't run from a duel."
He threw the crystal spear.
It broke the sound barrier.
THWACK.
The spear flew across the courtyard and impaled the running dragon through the back of the skull, pinning it to the ground. The beast twitched once, then stilled.
Kill Count: 14.
Only the Crimson Dragon remained.
It stood atop a pile of rubble, looking down at Blake. It was massive, wreathed in heat and ancient pride. But that pride was tattered now. It was looking at a human who had just committed genocide against its species with his bare hands.
"You..." the Crimson Dragon snarled. "You are not human. You are a devil."
Blake walked to the center of the courtyard, standing in a pool of mixed dragon blood. He cracked his knuckles.
"I'm a teacher," Blake corrected. "And you're the final exam."
The Crimson Dragon roared. It knew it couldn't win in a brawl. It knew its breath weapon wouldn't work.
It decided to take the only option left.
Self-destruction.
The dragon began to glow. Its scales turned from red to blinding white. The magical energy in its core began to go critical. It was turning itself into a living nuke.
"I WILL TAKE YOU TO HELL WITH ME!" the dragon screamed. "DESTRUCTIVE FLARE!"
The heat rose instantly. The stone walls of the castle began to melt like wax.
Blake watched the buildup.
"Suicide bombing?" Blake sighed. "How cliché."
He dropped into a sprinter's stance.
The Haki around him exploded. The red lightning of his Conqueror's Haki lashed out, shattering the windows of the castle.
"Soru: Godspeed."
He vanished.
He appeared directly in front of the glowing chest of the Crimson Dragon. The heat was intense enough to vaporize water instantly, but Blake's Haki protected him.
He drew his right hand back.
He focused everything into this one strike.
Anti-Magic to neutralize the explosion.
Ryou to destroy the core.
Physical Strength to end the life.
"Void..." Blake whispered.
The dragon looked down, its eyes filled with blinding white light.
"...SILENCER!"
Blake punched.
His fist sank deep into the dragon's glowing chest.
The Anti-Magic flooded the dragon's system. The blinding white light of the explosion turned pitch black instantly. The mana was erased before it could detonate.
The Ryou shockwave traveled through the flesh and obliterated the dragon's heart.
The Crimson Dragon gasped. The light faded from its scales.
It looked at the small human hand buried in its chest.
"Monster..." it wheezed.
Blake pulled his hand out, shaking off the blood.
"Class dismissed."
The Crimson Dragon toppled backward. It fell slowly, like a felled tree, and crashed onto the heap of corpses. The ground shook one last time, and then... silence.
Kill Count: 15.
---
The courtyard was still.
Fifteen dragons lay dead.
Blake Corvus stood alone in the center of the carnage. He was shirtless, covered in soot and blood, his hair loose and wild.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of ozone and victory. He flexed his hands, feeling the ache in his knuckles. Killing dragons with bare fists was hard work, even for him.
He sensed the battle in the distance. Natsu, Gajeel, and the others were still fighting the stragglers. They were winning. He could feel their Haki blooming, their magic spiking.
Blake reached into his tattered pants pocket. Miraculously, his small flask had survived the gravity well and the acid.
He unscrewed the cap and took a long drink of water.
He walked over to the unconscious form of Atlas Flame, who was beginning to stir.
Blake kicked the dragon in the snout.
"Stay down," Blake warned. "Or you're number sixteen."
The Hellfire Dragon groaned and went limp again, feigning unconsciousness out of pure self-preservation.
Blake looked up at the sky, where the green light of the Eclipse Gate was fading.
"Well," he muttered to himself, cracking a tired grin. "That was a decent workout."
He turned and began to walk toward the exit, stepping over the carcass of the Diamond Dragon. It was time to go see if his students had passed their test.
And God help anyone who had touched his kids.