The flying body slammed directly into the spewing corrosive sludge.

Though the sickening sizzle of dissolving matter still filled the air, it had at least managed to block the incoming liquid.

Without missing a beat, Rayne adjusted his stance, holding his breath as he dashed forward like a panther, closing the distance in an instant.

Screech—

The tip of his greatsword scraped against the ground, sparks flaring as metal shrieked against stone. His charging form tore through the acidic mist, bringing him face-to-face with one of the Rift Worms.

The creature's twitching antennae betrayed its agitation—even without eyes, its unease was obvious.

Rayne's expression remained cold. Gripping his sword with one hand, he swung upward in a clean arc.

The blade, glowing faintly red from friction, sliced cleanly into the worm's underbelly.

The force of the strike sent its dozens-of-pounds body flying backward, curling like a shrimp mid-air.

Hiss—

A shadow lashed through the air—a whip-like appendage shooting toward him with enough force to split stone.

Rayne's wrist twisted, his greatsword rotating in front of him like a shield. The two-palm-wide blade became an impenetrable wall.

Clang!

A crisp metallic ring echoed across the plaza.

Lowering his sword, Rayne saw the culprit—a red, tendril-like tongue, retracting back into the maw of another Rift Worm.

So it's their tongue?

The thought flickered through his mind, but his body was already moving.

He thrust his sword forward, spinning it like a drill. The blade coiled around the tongue before the worm could retract it.

"Time for a merry-go-round!"

A wild grin spread across Rayne's face as he pivoted at the waist, muscles straining.

The worm's body lifted off the ground, helpless as he swung it like a flail—smashing it into another attacker.

His foot stamped down, and the airborne monster crashed into the previously launched worm.

Thud!

A dull impact shook the ground as the two creatures tumbled away, rolling like broken logs.

Pat.

With a flick of disgust, Rayne whipped his sword forward, flinging the severed tongue to the ground.

Even detached, the red tendril writhed like a dying snake.

The remaining Rift Worm seemed to realize—this foe was beyond them.

Their spiral maws pressed into the earth, bodies sinking rapidly.

They're trying to escape?!

Rayne's grip tightened.

"You think it's that easy?!"

Both hands clenched the hilt as he angled the blade downward. Mana surged from his body into the steel, igniting a pale glow along its edge.

The sheer density of his magic made even Mystogan, mid-seal, glance over in surprise.

A mage this young… with such refined power?

But the masked wizard quickly refocused on his task.

Rayne noticed the gaze but paid it no mind. His arms tensed—

—then slammed the sword into the ground.

BOOM!

The infused mana detonated, rippling outward in a shockwave.

The half-buried worms jolted violently—then were hurled back out of their holes like popped corks.

Rayne's eyes sharpened.

Feet braced, knees bent, torso coiled like a spring—

—his greatsword rested at his hip, poised for the kill.

The falling monsters had no time to react.

Crash!

His body blurred, a shadow streaking through the air.

Thk-chk!

Flesh split. Acidic blood rained.

By the time Rayne skidded to a halt, he'd returned to his adult form—longer reach, deadlier strikes.

The sword dripped green as severed limbs plopped wetly behind him.

Drip… drip…

The stench of rot thickened the air.

With a flick, Rayne whipped the gore off his blade, painting a crescent of ichor on the cobblestones.

"Hah…"

Exhaling, he dismissed his Giant Magic, shrinking back to his usual size. The greatsword snapped onto his back, magnetized by his holder.

"He's gone, huh?"

Turning, Rayne noted Mystogan's absence—the distorted space now calm.

No surprise. Dude avoids people like the plague.

"Only one staff… and the Anima's range was small. Must be early in the timeline."

Mulling it over, Rayne shrugged.

Going after the Edolas king now was pointless—without the Moon Dragon God or another Anima, crossing worlds wasn't feasible.

And right now? I'd probably get stomped.

"Whatever. At least this job's wrapped up fast."

A smirk tugged at his lips.

He'd expected this request to drag on—yet here he was, solving the root cause immediately.

"Rayne, chase?"

Conanna trotted up, eyes gleaming with predator's excitement.

"Nah. He might join the guild later."

Waving her off, Rayne turned as townsfolk cautiously approached.

The corrosive smoke had cleared, revealing the pockmarked battlefield.

For a second, he considered bolting—

—but he'd announced his name to keep civilians back. Fleeing now would be tacky.

Plus, I haven't been paid yet.

And honestly? Without him, the damage would've been way worse.

No way they'd make him foot the bill.

"Right. Time to collect."

Straightening, Rayne waited confidently as the crowd drew nearer.

Meanwhile, in a dim alleyway…

Mystogan slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

Though Rayne had handled the combat, sealing the Anima had drained him.

"Fairy… Tail…"

Leaning his head back, he stared at the starless sky, replaying that bold declaration—and the black mark on the mage's arm.

vote and read more inpatreon

belamy20