The sun was already climbing steadily over Magnolia when Natsu walked through the city streets, hands buried in his pockets as he strolled with a carefree air.
The usual bustle spread around him: merchants opening their shop doors, children running through the alleys, the scent of fresh-baked bread drifting from a nearby bakery.
The sound of a cat scratching at a window snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Hey, easy there, you feisty furball."
He spoke as if he didn't expect an answer, yet the cat meowed in protest before leaping onto a wall and vanishing.
Natsu gave a faint smile.
After saying goodbye to Juvia and walking through the lively streets of Magnolia, he noticed something he hadn't truly registered until now: he was genuinely enjoying this world. Of course, it wasn't just the warmth of the sun beating down on the cobblestones or the smell of freshly baked bread from the local bakeries that gave him that feeling. It was the sensation of freedom.
A kind of freedom he had never known in the modern world.
There, no one talked about deadlines, bills, college, bosses, traffic, or social status. No one had to run after a life that, in the end, never seemed enough. Life there was simple and, paradoxically, far more alive. Though he had only spent a few days in this world, they had been enough for him to adapt to this new reality.
The magical world had its dangers, of course—monsters, dark guilds, future wars. Yet even so, the risk tasted different. It wasn't the suffocating feeling of former obligations; it was the kind of danger that made the blood boil, that reminded everyone they were alive.
He loved waking up without an alarm, walking through a city or the mountains with no destination, feeling the wind on his face and knowing no one would force him to do anything…
Compared to the modern world, this one was a paradise that required no logic.
There, he didn't have to pretend.
He no longer had to fit into any mold. He could be strong, he could be free, he could simply be himself. The loss of Happy on the part of his predecessor had served as a logical event, a plausible explanation for the change in his personality. Thus, no one would question the fact that he was so different. And if anyone did, he could just make up an excuse. He had always been good at that.
And though he had a past filled with excesses—bars, parties, and women he took to bed—everything now felt distant, almost like memories from another life. He didn't regret what he had lived, but he didn't truly miss it either. Well, there was a part of him that, of course, remembered the thrill of conquest, the adrenaline of desire, the fleeting intensity of a wild night. He was human enough to admit that. Perhaps that was the only thing he truly missed from his old world.
But in the end, it was easy to get over—after all, in this new world there were women infinitely more beautiful than any he had ever known in his previous life. In the end, he hadn't lost that much.
Natsu shook his head, an almost imperceptible smile curving his lips, as if he were laughing at himself.
He resumed walking.
Every now and then he greeted someone passing by: a flower vendor, an old man with a paint-stained apron, and other familiar faces. They were acquaintances of his predecessor, after all… As he continued on his way, he passed a fountain where two children were playing, trying to create small jets of water with magic. The spell failed miserably, but their laughter was so genuine that he found himself stopping to watch for a few seconds…
He let out a soft sigh and moved on.
The walk to his house was short; just a few minutes later he was standing in front of it and stepped inside.
The living room was quiet, bathed in sunlight streaming through the open windows. He tossed his jacket onto the sofa and headed straight to the kitchen.
He grabbed an apple, took a bite, and stood there leaning against the sink, watching the movement outside.
Natsu slowly finished chewing the apple, gazing at the light reflecting off the knife blade resting beside the sink. The city sounds mingled with the gentle rustle of leaves outside—a steady rhythm that relaxed him more than any loud conversation ever could.
After a few seconds, he let out a brief, almost resigned sigh and stepped away from the window. He threw the apple core in the trash and walked to the sofa, letting himself drop onto it with a smooth motion.
He sat cross-legged, adjusting his posture until his body was comfortable enough to remain still.
There was a clear reason he hadn't stopped by the guild at that moment. In fact, there were two. The first was simple: he wasn't in the slightest mood to socialize. He would have to deal with his predecessor's friends pestering him about his change in behavior, and he had no patience for that right now. The second reason was far more important: he wanted to grow stronger and, above all, fully master [Stellar Transformation], a technique he had neglected for far too long.
He remained motionless for a few moments, feeling every muscle relax as the flow of Magical Power and Curse Power circulated under the control of the [Stellar Transformation] technique.
He took a deep breath.
From that moment on, there would be no turning back.
Thanks to the pills he had materialized using [Subjective Reality] over the past few days, his body had finally reached the minimum limit required to withstand [Stellar Transformation] training.
And now, it was time.
Inside his body, at the center of his Dantian, Magical Power and Curse Power began to spin. For the first time, [Stellar Transformation] was being operated at full strength. At first, it was nothing more than an ordinary, warm, familiar flow. But under his will, that flow began to change. The rotation accelerated, and the warmth transformed into something deeper, denser… vaster.
The Magical Power and Curse Power began to condense, compressing upon themselves until they took on a nebulous form, like a small silver vortex. Gradually, that glowing mass reorganized itself, taking on the appearance of a spinning nebula—brilliant and silent, as if it had been torn from the night sky itself and placed inside him.
At the same time, something outside the Dantian reacted.
His body.
His skin tingled. His flesh vibrated. His bones produced an almost imperceptible sound, like the faint chime of crystals clashing within his chest.
And then, the transformation truly began.
A second vortex formed outside his body, spreading through his flesh, muscles, and bone structure. It was like an external nebula—translucent, expanding and contracting in perfect sync with the Dantian.
And that external nebula did the unthinkable.
It began absorbing stellar energy.
A gentle yet incredibly powerful current fell over him like cosmic dust. It was cold, ancient, and at the same time sharp as blades. The energy penetrated through his pores, through every fiber, every microscopic crevice of his body. As it sank deeper, it passed through muscles and bones as if intending to pierce them.
His flesh burned.
His bones throbbed.
His entire body vibrated, threatening to crack under the absurd pressure of that energy which belonged neither to this world nor to any ordinary human.
But he endured.
The energy coursing through his flesh and bones was channeled to the inner nebula, where it fused with the violently spinning Magical Power.
The cycle was complete.
With each repetition, the pressure increased. But at the same time, something new was born within the Dantian.
Tiny points of light began to flicker inside the nebula.
Minuscule… stars.
Silver stars.
Each one condensed a pure fragment of stellar energy—dense and heavy, as if carrying within it a distant piece of a galaxy.
Natsu's heart raced.
He had done it.
The first stars had been born.
And with that, the first cycle of Stellar Transformation practice was officially complete.
He had entered the initial level of the [Nebula] stage.
Since this technique had been modified to work with Magical Power and Curse Power, many of its original benefits simply did not exist—including the longevity increase that granted up to a thousand years of life to those who reached this stage. Still, even though several advantages had been lost due to the difference between the current world's level and the world from which the technique originated, it remained formidable, despite being operated differently.
Essentially, the newly formed stars were the direct result of the fusion between his Magical Power and Curse Power: all the energy accumulated by both his predecessor and himself throughout their lives had been refined and converted into these stars. The external nebula enveloping his body acted as a receptacle, continuously absorbing energy from the stars and from the world, allowing his reserves of both powers to grow at an extremely accelerated rate.
Natsu slowly opened his eyes, as if awakening from a dream too deep to describe.
The light coming through the window seemed clearer than before—or perhaps it was simply his body, strangely sensitive after the transformation.
He let out a long, heavy sigh, but not one of exhaustion. It was the kind of sigh that carried subtle relief, silent satisfaction. Soon after, he raised his arms and stretched, feeling each vertebra pop pleasantly, like old gears finally working again.
"Damn…" he muttered, his voice hoarse, a lazy smile appearing at the corner of his lips. "This… is way better than the gym."
Natsu remained seated for a few more seconds, pondering for a moment a subject that had been recurring in his mind over the past few days.
Hand-to-hand combat.
His predecessor had been incredibly skilled in that area—a true brute force that blended instinct, ferocity, and improvisation with impressive efficiency. But for him, now inhabiting that body, it simply wasn't enough. Not for the standards he had set for himself. Not for the path he intended to follow.
The current body possessed absurd physical strength, superhuman reflexes, and a level of endurance that would make any martial artist from his previous world weep with envy. But technique? True refinement? A genuinely solid foundation?
No. It was still far from that.
He could punch hard, kick violently, crush enemies using pure brutality and sharp intuition… but that wasn't the same as absolute mastery. It wasn't the same as dancing with combat itself. And considering the future he knew Fairy Tail's world held, continuing to rely solely on instinctive aggression would be a monumental mistake. "Natsu Dragneel," no matter how strong he was, was nowhere near the level of the true martial arts masters that existed in the stories he used to read in his old world. His foundation was good—excellent, even—but it wasn't perfect.
With that in mind, he immediately activated his [Subjective Reality] to materialize the masters of Ryōzanpaku, those legendary warriors from the world of Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple. Akisame Koetsuji, the jiu-jitsu philosopher and master of medicine; Shio Sakaki, the hundred-dan karate artist; Apachai Hopachai, the Thai "god" of Muay Thai; Shigure Kousaka, the prodigy of weapons and kenjutsu; Kensei Ma, the Chinese master of internal kung fu; and, above them all, Elder Hayato Fūrinji, the invincible patriarch who was one of the strongest men in that world.
Instantly, all theoretical knowledge, every technique honed over decades, the muscle memory forged through countless battles, and the entire life experience that shaped those martial arts titans were engraved into his body and soul. He absorbed them as if he had lived every strike, every sparring session, every injury, and every combat philosophy—as if every victory and defeat had been his from the very beginning.
Natsu felt the sudden snap, that characteristic internal tug of [Subjective Reality] when it began devouring its fuel. Half of his entire Magical Power vanished as if ripped away by force.
But he didn't flinch.
On the contrary, he tilted his head back and let his body sink into the sofa as the avalanche of knowledge from the Ryōzanpaku masters swept through him like a hurricane. His body trembled as memories that weren't his merged with his own sensations. The sound of breaking bones, the impact of trained knees, the metallic echo of blades slicing the air, the absolute calm before a perfect strike… everything took shape inside him.
When the flow finally began to subside, Natsu's muscles were so tense they seemed to writhe on their own, like living serpents trying to reorganize themselves.
He inhaled.
Once.
Twice.
On the third breath, he opened his eyes—and there was a predatory sharpness in them that hadn't existed before.
"…Hmph."
The corner of his mouth lifted, almost arrogantly.
"Now that's a foundation."Natsu stayed there for a few more seconds, simply feeling his own body adjust, as if every muscle fiber was rearranging its priorities, repositioning itself into a new pattern that made far more sense than anything he had ever felt before.
With one final dry crack in his shoulder—the reflex of his body assimilating Ryōzanpaku's brutal knowledge—Natsu placed his hands on the sofa and stood up slowly, stretching his spine as if testing the newly acquired alignment.
His joints responded with precision.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it slip between his fingers, and let out a light sigh.
First, he decided to take a shower. After that, he would test his new abilities outside the cabin…
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