"Fire Dragon's—Iron Fist!"
Natsu roared and struck first. His right fist, wrapped in explosive flames, carried a scorching shockwave as it slammed straight for Shane's face.
For someone Natsu's age, the punch had both speed and power—enough to leave a crater in rock.
But Shane didn't even move his feet.
His gaze stayed calm. Only when the flaming fist's wind was already ruffling his bangs did he casually lift his right hand and use the side of the spear-shaft to lightly guide and flick the punch aside.
The motion was effortless—like brushing dust off a sleeve.
Natsu, however, felt like his fist had slammed into a slick whirlpool.
Not only was his gathered flame redirected with ease—his whole body pitched forward in an uncontrollable stumble.
From that one relaxed exchange, Shane caught a glimpse of the Lancer Noble Phantasm's nature.
It didn't just keep the user's mind clear—its embedded martial skill felt even more pronounced than what Arash or Senji Muramasa had given him.
"So it really is a master-level warrior…" Shane's eyes shifted with interest.
When it came to this type of spearman, his first association was inevitably the Celtic myth cycle.
His mind drifted to the "Long-Armed Lugh," the god of light—who even had that bizarre tale of turning into a mayfly in a dream to impregnate a girl.
…Could the indescribable lump of flesh he saw in the vision have been Lugh in some transformed state?
The thought appeared for a split second—then Shane rejected it himself.
Because in legend, Lugh's spear was one of the Tuatha Dé Danann's four great treasures. It symbolized his divinity, and its power was terrifying.
Some versions said that with that spear, he could unleash lethal "death-light" to kill an enemy no matter how far away.
Other tales claimed Lugh's spear was called Areadbhar—"the best yew" or "the most famous yew," once belonging to the Persian emperor Piser.
And that its spearhead had to be stored in a pot of water to keep it from burning on its own.
But no matter which version, Lugh's divine spear wasn't anything like these water-blue, dual-wield short spears in Shane's hands.
And more importantly—Lugh's stories didn't seem closely tied to dragons.
"Then again… Celtic legends have plenty of dual-spear heroes too. Like Diarmuid of the Love Spot…"
But Diarmuid clearly had nothing to do with a flesh lump either.
Shane sighed. The more he thought about it, the less it felt like he had any solid lead.
"Hah—"
While Shane's thoughts raced, Natsu steadied himself and caught his breath.
He didn't care why Shane hadn't pressed the advantage—battle fever drove him straight into the next attack.
"Not over yet! Fire Dragon's—Wing Attack!"
With a low growl, Natsu flung both arms wide. Flames surged like wings, then snapped shut from both sides, trying to crush Shane in a pincer.
Before the fire even reached him, the heatwave blasted forward, curling and yellowing the grass at their feet.
But Shane stayed composed.
He shifted his steps by a hair, and the twin spears shot out like venomous snakes—arriving after, yet striking first—tapping lightly into the openings under Natsu's armpits as his force came forward.
Natsu felt his arms go numb. The blazing wing strike collapsed on its own, scattering into sparks.
"Your movements are too big. Too many openings," Shane said flatly, retracting the spears.
After a few exchanges, Shane had basically measured Natsu's current level.
The kid's strength, physique, and the raw potential inside his Dragon Slayer magic were genuinely impressive, and his instincts were wild and sharp—like a beast.
But his technique was still far too crude—too straightforward, too lacking in variation.
"Quit lecturing me!"
Being shut down repeatedly made Natsu visibly impatient.
He jumped back a long distance, drew in a deep breath, and his belly visibly swelled.
"Take this! Fire Dragon's Roar!!"
A torrent of scorching flame burst out like a young dragon's breath, aiming to incinerate everything in front of him!
This was Natsu's strongest wide-area attack at the moment—powerful enough to burn through old trees.
Yet Shane couldn't help but shake his head with a quiet chuckle.
Such a cute little flame.
For once, he didn't say the insult out loud. He simply crossed both spears in front of him, found the weak point in the flame torrent, and snapped both arms outward.
Shhk!
A strange sound—like cloth being torn.
Like a blade splitting fabric, the blazing fire was forcibly cut straight down the middle.
"N-No way!?!" Natsu's eyes went huge, jaw dropping in disbelief.
And in that moment of stunned hesitation, Shane passed through the lingering sparks and appeared right in front of him.
Too fast—Natsu couldn't react at all.
Shane's spears were already gone.
He just threw a simple punch—and drove it hard into Natsu's abdomen.
"Guh—!" Natsu groaned, folding like a shrimp as the pain wiped his strength out instantly.
Clean. Efficient. Over.
Shane walked over and crouched, meeting Natsu's eyes at level. "Well? You ready to admit defeat?"
Hearing Shane's amused tone, Natsu jerked his head up. Even while grimacing in pain, he still looked stubborn.
He craned his neck and pointed forcefully at Erza, who'd been watching nearby.
"Cough—! You—you are strong… but you're still not stronger than that monster woman!"
"…Huh?" Shane didn't process it at first.
Then he followed the finger and saw Erza's expressionless face.
He froze for a beat—then burst out laughing without restraint.
"PFF—HAHAHA! Erza, you really got yourself a great nickname—'monster woman'?!"
This time he had zero guilt, so he laughed as loud as he wanted.
In one stroke, all of last night's pent-up frustration evaporated—and even the headache Natsu's shouting had given him cleared.
Nearby, Cana turned her face away, shoulders trembling—clearly fighting for her life not to laugh out loud.
Erza didn't react.
She glanced once at Shane's gleeful face, then lowered her gaze and looked very seriously at Natsu.
"Natsu. I think I'm a girl. Not a monster. And not a 'monster woman.'"
"…Don't you agree?"
No anger. No threats. Just calm statement—yet it somehow pressed down like invisible weight.
Natsu shrank, nodding so fast he looked like a pecking chicken.
"Y-Yes! Sorry! Erza is Erza!"
But even while apologizing, he stayed stubborn.
"B-But… Shane really isn't stronger than you! I can feel it—!"
At that, Shane couldn't help but take another look at the red-haired girl beside him.
He hadn't released a True Name in that fight, but to test the Lancer card properly, he also hadn't been holding back much. With Natsu's animal-like perception, the read probably wasn't wildly off.
A long time ago, Erza's strength had already surpassed Shane's normal state. Shane hadn't expected that even after so long, she'd still be keeping that edge.
So it's not just me improving—Erza's growing just as fast?
Shane was a little surprised at her growth rate.
But thinking about it, that was a good thing for the guild and for their side. So he shoved the thought aside.
He turned back to Natsu.
"Either way—you lost this one. We had a deal. You answer my questions."
"You ask!" Natsu puffed his chest despite the lingering pain, wearing a proud 'I keep my word' expression.
Shane nodded and went straight to the point.
"You said Igneel raised you. So—where is Igneel now?"