Fairy Tail: The Faint Smile in Earthland

📍 Crocus — Domus Flau Arena

📅 July X791

As laughter from the earlier lighthearted matches faded, a hush crept back over the crowd. The mood shifted again—weightier, expectant. Everyone could feel it. This next fight wasn't about flair. It was about something heavier: pride.

The screens flared with two names:

Elfman Strauss — Fairy Tail

Bacchus Groh — Quatro Cerberus

A ripple of surprise rolled through the audience. Whispers followed. Bacchus was known for his devastating close-range style. His fights were fast, brutal, and rarely left his opponent standing.

Bacchus cracked his knuckles one at a time, his smirk stretching slowly and sure. He didn't need to boast. His confidence did all the talking.

Across from him, Elfman stepped onto the field with fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. His jaw was set. Every step he took was stiff but steady.

In the Fairy Tail booth, Makarov leaned forward, his brows furrowed with a mix of hope and worry.

"Elfman… now's your time."

Levy gripped her pen like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Beside her, Mavis hovered forward, her hands almost reaching toward the battlefield.

"His heart's so loud," she whispered. "It's like thunder in a cage."

Up in the observation booth, Teresa didn't blink. Her gaze moved between the two men, cool and focused.

"Reckless fluidity against grounded force," she said softly. "Bacchus flows. Elfman stands. One bends. The other breaks."

Macao stayed silent. Kinana clutched a small charm in both hands, her lips silently moving—maybe a prayer.

Back on the field, Bacchus tilted his head, eyeing Elfman like a cat sizing up a meal.

"Didn't think they'd send you," he said, chuckling. "You're no Erza. You sure you're not just here to lose in her place?"

Elfman's voice came low and steady. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for them."

Bacchus's grin widened. "That's so? Let's see how much that pride holds up when I grind it into the dirt."

The signal dropped.

Bacchus moved first—fast, confident, all fluid motion. His fists hammered into Elfman's defenses, each hit like a piledriver. One to the arm. Another to the ribs. A jab to the gut that made Elfman stagger.

The sound of it all rang through the arena like a war drum.

Teresa's head tilted slightly.

"He absorbs instead of evades. Poor adaptability. Power without flexibility is a brittle shield."

Elfman tried to swing back—a heavy, wide arc. Bacchus ducked it easily and planted another blow into his ribs. Blood appeared at the corner of Elfman's mouth. But he didn't back down.

In the Fairy Tail booth, Mavis closed her eyes, whispering.

"Don't lose the echo, Elfman… hold onto it."

Bacchus leaned close, breath hot with arrogance.

"That's all you've got? Erza would've had me sweating by now."

Something snapped in Elfman's gaze.

He wasn't hearing Bacchus anymore. He was hearing Lisanna's laugh. Mirajane's quiet strength. The warmth of Fairy Tail. The weight of everything he swore to protect.

"BEAST SOUL!"

Magic exploded around him.

Fur surged up his arms. His body bulked. His aura cracked like lightning, wild and raw.

The crowd gasped. Bacchus blinked.

"Oh? The beast finally shows up."

Elfman charged—no hesitation this time. His clawed fist slammed into Bacchus's guard with the force of a freight train. Bacchus skidded back across the arena, his grin slipping for the first time.

Up in the booth, Teresa's silver eyes narrowed, but her voice shifted—curious now.

"He channels emotional resonance into transformation. Inefficient… but effective."

A hint of something else passed across her lips. Not quite a smile. Almost.

The clash built into a storm.

Blow for blow, Elfman pushed harder. Each strike carried more than brute force—it carried every promise he'd made. Every laugh he'd cherished. Every time he'd failed and vowed never to again.

Bacchus gritted his teeth, throwing a brutal palm to Elfman's midsection. It should've dropped him.

But Elfman didn't fall.

"I'm a man…" he growled through blood and grit, "A man who protects his family!"

They collided again—one final crash, all speed and fury and heart.

A flash of light. Dust everywhere. The entire stadium froze.

When it cleared, Bacchus was on one knee, gasping, one hand planted deep in the dirt.

Elfman stood. Barely. Shaking. Chest heaving. But still standing.

The referee blinked, stunned. Then raised his hand.

"Winner: Elfman Strauss of Fairy Tail!"

The arena erupted.

Makarov's shout cracked with pride. Levy fell to her knees, sobbing with joy. Mavis hovered high, eyes shimmering, a hand pressed tight to her chest.

In the stands above, Teresa didn't move.

Her gaze stayed on Elfman.

"Flawed," she murmured. "But forged in the fire of echo. Not broken. Just… reforged."

For the briefest of moments, her fingers shifted—relaxed. And a faint smile curved her lips before fading like morning fog.

Elfman dropped to one knee. Exhausted. But not broken.

He turned toward the stands. Toward Lisanna's teary smile. Toward Mirajane's silent nod. Toward his guild.

He raised one battered fist high.

"This is what it means… to be a man."

Mavis whispered, voice trembling with pride.

"You did it, Elfman. You protected every one of them… with your echo."

And far above it all, Teresa watched.

Silent. Still.

But in her silver eyes, something warm flickered—held for just a moment longer than before.