Chapter 279: Only Helped a Little
"A joke? As a man, some things can't be joked about! Since the words are out, you'll pay the price—I'll tear you in half!"
Elfman's roar shook the very foundations of the Domus Flau, his voice laced with a fury that transcended mere competition. To insult his sisters was to trample on his soul. The veins on his neck bulged, pulsing with adrenaline and magic power.
"Full Body Take Over: Beast King Soul!"
Boom!
A shockwave of magic power exploded outward, kicking up a cloud of dust. From within the haze, a massive silhouette emerged. Fur thickened, muscles swelled to grotesque proportions, and savage fangs elongated. In a heartbeat, Elfman had transformed into the Beast King—a hulking behemoth of pure destruction.
"Rooooar!!"
With a deafening bellow, Elfman charged at Bacchus. The ground cracked under his heavy steps as he closed the distance in a frenzy. His massive paws, capable of shattering boulders, swung down with the force of a falling meteor.
But his target was a ghost.
Bacchus swayed, his body moving with the fluidity of water. He didn't block; he simply drifted. Elfman's every savage strike missed its mark, hitting nothing but empty air.
"Too slow, big guy~" Bacchus drawled, his tone dripping with mockery.
"No good; the Beast King's strong, but too slow. Against average foes it's fine, against a master like Bacchus it's useless."
High in the stands, Mirajane watched the fight, her hands clenching the railing until her knuckles turned white. Her brows knitted tight in worry. She knew her brother's fighting style better than anyone—he relied on overwhelming force, but Bacchus was a counter-fighter of the highest caliber. It was a terrible matchup.
Boom!
Elfman's fist slammed into the arena floor, sending debris flying. Taking advantage of the opening, Bacchus pivoted on one foot, his movement blurring.
"Gotcha."
Bacchus delivered a sharp, spinning kick to Elfman's exposed back. It wasn't a heavy blow visually, but the impact was concentrated and piercing.
"Guh!"
Elfman's eyes widened as the force traveled through his spine. He lost his balance and slammed face-first into the ground, skidding across the stone tiles.
"Nice power—but it means nothing if it never lands," Bacchus laughed, taking a swig from his gourd while Elfman struggled to rise.
Elfman pushed himself up, spitting out a mouthful of dust and blood. The humiliation burned hotter than the pain. I can't hit him... He's slipping through my fingers like smoke!
"Damn it!"
He needed speed. Raw power wasn't enough.
"Beast Soul: Weretiger!"
Elfman's massive form dissolved into light, reshaping instantly. The bulk vanished, replaced by lean, explosive muscle. He was now covered in striped fur, his stance low and predatory—the fastest form in his arsenal.
"Oh? A kitty cat now?" Bacchus smirked.
Elfman switched Take Overs, shifting into a towering Weretiger form. His speed jumped, his figure blurring as he dashed forward. This time, he was fast enough to keep Bacchus in his sights. He unleashed a flurry of claw swipes, turning the air into a net of slashing vacuum blades.
Yet, he could only barely keep up; the gulf in skill was massive.
Bacchus didn't just dodge; he flowed around the attacks. He parried Elfman's claws with his elbows and wrists, redirecting the force effortlessly.
"Wild! But sloppy!"
Bam! Bam! Bam!
A few exchanges later, Bacchus found an opening. His palm struck Elfman's chest, followed by a strike to the chin and a sweeping kick to the legs. Elfman went flying again, crashing into the arena wall with a sickening thud.
[It's a complete one-sided match!!] The announcer shouted, his voice echoing through the stadium. [Elfman has no answer to Bacchus!! The difference in class is simply too great!]
"Elfman onii-chan…"
Seeing this, Lisanna covered her mouth, her eyes shimmering with tears. She couldn't help worrying. Her big brother was getting dismantled.
Evergreen, standing beside her, crossed her arms and looked away, though her foot tapped nervously. She tried to maintain her composure, comforting her beside her: "It's fine—he's a man, after all. He won't go down that easily."
"Elfman hasn't landed a single hit!"
Gray leaned over the railing, his expression grim. He spotted the key issue immediately. "Every Beast Soul boosted Elfman's physique, giving him strength and speed far beyond a normal human. Yet without contact, none of it mattered. Bacchus is dismantling him without breaking a sweat."
"Is it because of that weird movement?"
Lucy noticed the odd motions too. Bacchus moved like he was about to trip, swaying side to side, his rhythm completely erratic.
Erza's eyes narrowed as she analyzed the technique. She explained: "His magic gathers mana in his palms—very orthodox. But look at his stance. His real edge is a martial art that makes the most of it: Pigua-zhang, a palm-strike style with unique stances focused on explosive power and reach. Worse, he's refined it into his own Drunken Pigua-zhang."
"Drunk? You mean actually drunk?"
Lucy blinked, dumbfounded. Tipsy brawling in Fairy Tail usually ended in chaos, broken tables, and Natsu breathing fire on the ceiling. It wasn't... this.
Erza nodded solemnly: "Exactly. A drunk fighter's strikes are impossible to predict. They lack rhythm and intent until the moment of impact. And they hit even harder—his strongest Move. But the problem is, he hasn't touched a drop yet."
The realization hit the group like a bucket of ice water.
"So… he's toyed with Elfman without even getting serious?!"
Worry crept across their faces. If Bacchus was dominating Elfman while sober, what would happen if he actually started drinking? The gap was insurmountable.
Ren, however, sat comfortably in his seat, watching the arena with a calm gaze. He smiled, a confident curve of his lips that seemed out of place amidst the tension. "Relax—Elfman won't go down that easy. He'll win."
"How can you be so sure?" Gray asked, glancing at the protagonist.
"Because he has a trump card," Ren replied cryptically.
"Gwah!!"
While they spoke, Elfman crashed down once more, this time near the center of the arena. He lay there, chest heaving, bruises forming rapidly on his fur.
[Can Elfman stand again? (Today's mascot-referee Toma-kun is on leave; I'm filling in.)] The announcer, Chapati Lola, filled the silence with trivia.
"A leave?"
"Just swap whoever's inside the suit…" muttered the crowd, their attention briefly diverted by the mascot drama before snapping back to the brutal beatdown.
Hearing Jadge, the spectators murmured agreement. The match seemed decided.
Bacchus stood over Elfman, looking down with a mix of boredom and pity. He sighed, scratching his head.
"Give up. You were never my match, and after losing seven years you're even further behind."
Bacchus told Elfman; provoking Ren's monster side—the Fairy Tail Guild—would be unwise if he killed their member, but this was a competition. He wanted to end it before it got ugly.
Elfman's fingers dug into the stone. Give up? Me?
Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself up. His legs trembled, but he forced them to lock. He wiped blood from his mouth, his eyes burning with an unyielding fire.
Elfman rose slowly, grinning through clenched teeth. "Quit? While Natsu and Gajeel fight for everyone, how could Elfman the man ever surrender? The real fight starts now!"
Bacchus blinked, then a wide, feral grin spread across his face. He appreciated guts.
"Ooh, now that's a man! Then I'd better get serious too."
Bacchus lifted the gourd hanging at his waist. He popped the cork, and the strong scent of high-quality alcohol wafted through the arena. He tilted his head back and gulped the wine greedily.
"Guess it's time to finish this."
"He's drinking!"
Gray stared, stunned. The magic power radiating from Bacchus began to spike, rising with every gulp. His skin flushed, and his movements became even more loose, more unpredictable.
Erza's face darkened. "Here it comes, Elfman! Brace yourself!"
Elfman watched Bacchus, his breathing ragged. He knew he couldn't win with his current strength. The Beast King was too slow. The Weretiger was too weak. He had to use that. The power Ren had entrusted to him.
He closed his eyes for a second, reaching deep into his magical container, past his own soul, to the sealed darkness Ren had placed there.
"I didn't want to use this—I can barely control it—but a man stares danger down! Don't die on me!"
"Hah?"
Bacchus tilted his head, swaying drunkenly; he'd pummelled Elfman without a scratch—now Elfman warned him?
"Interesting guy. Come on then!"
Elfman's eyes snapped open. His pupils had changed—they were no longer round, but vertical slits, glowing with a malevolent crimson light.
"Full Body Take Over: Beast Soul – Nine-Tailed Demon Fox!"
Boom——!!
The air in the arena suddenly grew heavy, suffocatingly hot. A terrifying, ancient energy erupted from Elfman's body, shattering the stone beneath his feet.
Crimson Chakra cloaked Elfman; it bubbled and hissed, forming a corrosive layer over his skin. He shifted into a fox-like humanoid form—ears formed of raw energy, claws that dripped with red power. Behind him, two tails of dense chakra materialized, swaying like cobras ready to strike.
It wasn't the full nine tails, but the sheer density of the magic power was suffocating.
"This feeling…"
Fairy Tail's Tenrou Group sensed it at once. Natsu, Gray, Lucy—they all stiffened.
It was far weaker than Ren's Nine-Tailed form, yet unmistakably the same aura. That hateful, disastrous energy that felt like it could corrode the world.
Erza and the others turned to Ren, shock written on their faces.
Ren raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, looking innocent. "Elfman wanted to grow stronger after seeing my Nine-Tailed form, so he tried to Take Over some of it—failed, of course. The rejection nearly killed him. So, I Sealed a fragment of that power inside him for emergencies. It's his power now. Not against the rules, right?"
"…"
They were speechless—how was this not cheating? Giving someone a nuclear reactor because they asked for a battery?
Ren winked. "He's got talent; I only helped a tiny bit."
In the arena, Bacchus's drunken grin faltered. His instincts screamed danger. The beast in front of him had changed from a house cat to a monster.
"Useless!!"
Bacchus roared, dashing in. He moved faster than before, his drunken steps blurring into invisibility. He struck Elfman seven times in an instant—chest, neck, ribs, joints—a flurry of master-class strikes designed to disable any opponent instantly.
"Hah!"
Certain Elfman was down, Bacchus turned—then froze.
A chilling sensation crawled up his spine. The sound of sizzling energy filled his ears.
"What?!"
The supposedly fallen Elfman stood unharmed. The red chakra cloak bubbled, and the indentations from Bacchus's strikes filled in instantly. He was licking a claw like a true beast, his eyes locked onto Bacchus with predatory hunger.
Next instant—
Boom——!
The ground vanished beneath Elfman's feet.
Elfman stamped the ground and flashed before Bacchus. It wasn't movement; it was a red blur of violence.
Bacchus's eyes widened; before he could react, before his drunken reflexes could save him, Elfman's beast claws pressed against his chest.