Fairy Tail: Lost One-Chapter 40: Her Justice

Rudra slowly rose to his feet, dust falling from his cloak as he looked around the chamber. Soldiers stood at every exit, weapons drawn. A circle of mages surrounded the center of the room—where Princess Hisui stood, wide-eyed and cornered. The air was thick with fear and hostility. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

He understood instantly.

Before he could speak, Victor's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade.

"Look, everyone!" he bellowed, pointing at Hisui. "The princess made a pact with a demon! The moment she was threatened, the creature revealed itself to protect her!"

Gasps echoed throughout the chamber.

"The rumors... they were true?" a noble stammered.

"She's been summoning demons in secret!" another voice cried in panic.

"Kill the demon before it slaughters us all!" a mage shouted, raising his staff.

The commotion erupted like wildfire. Cries of fear and accusations reverberated through the hall. The gathered crowd seemed moments from hysteria.

Victor raised his hands to command attention once more. "Fear not, good people of Fiore!" he declared, voice booming with false bravado. "As your new king, I shall protect this kingdom. I, Victor, will slay this demon and rid us of the cursed princess!"

He thrust his hand forward. "Soldiers! Mages! ATTACK!"

Spells and magical light surged through the air toward Rudra—but before a single spell reached him, a flurry of shining swords sliced through them, dissipating every projectile.

The room fell into shocked silence as the air shimmered. Two figures now stood at Rudra's side.

Erza Scarlet, clad in her fearsome Heaven's Wheel Armor, stepped forward, wings of blades glinting behind her.

Beside her, Mirajane Strauss had fully transformed into her demon form.

Victor's face twisted with rage. "What is the meaning of this, Titania of Fairy Tail?"

Erza met his gaze without flinching. "We were told not to interfere in the politics of the palace," she said, her voice even. "But attacking a member of Fairy Tail, in front of another Fairy Tail wizard, and expecting us to do nothing? That's not something we ignore."

Gasps echoed across the noble spectators.

"He's from Fairy Tail?" someone whispered.

"But Victor said he's a demon..."

The room stirred with uncertainty and fear.

Meanwhile, Mirajane moved closer to Rudra. Her hand found his shoulder gently.

"You alright?" she asked quietly.

He gave her a faint nod. "Yeah... I'm alright."

She frowned, glancing down. "Your hand—it's bleeding badly."

Rudra blinked, finally noticing the deep gash running along his right arm. Blood dripped freely to the floor.

"...Strange," he muttered, staring at the wound. "This should've healed ages ago..."

He stared at the wound in confusion, but before he could inspect it further, Victor's voice thundered across the hall again.

"Stand aside, Erza. I see now—your loyalty to the princess has clouded your judgment. Once I destroy the demon, I'll deal with you as well."

The mages prepared to cast again. Tension crackled in the air.

Erza stepped forward, her blades circling her like a protective storm. "Fairy Tail protects its own," she said, calm but firm. "If you raise your hand against Rudra again... we will respond."

Beside her, Mirajane's aura pulsed with silent warning.

Rudra stood between them, injured but composed, his eyes locked on Victor. The room held its breath—seconds from an all-out battle.

Before the situation could escalate further, the air itself tore open with a sudden crack, drawing everyone's attention. A rift in space split reality apart, and from it emerged a clone of Rudra. In one arm, he carried Cecile's lifeless body. In the other, he dragged the mangled head of a horned demon, its twisted features barely recognizable.

Gasps echoed across the palace chamber. Victor, raised his voice. "Another demon—attack!"

But his words were cut short.

The moment Rudra's eyes landed on Cecile's body, something inside him snapped. Unintentionally, he released a surge of overwhelming Haki—raw, unfiltered, and terrifying. It spread like a shockwave, and in an instant, people around him began collapsing, unconscious before they even realized what hit them.

But the Haki didn't stop there.

It expanded violently, crashing through buildings and tearing through stone as it spread across the capital. Glass shattered. Walls cracked. The very ground trembled under its force. Screams faded into silence as more and more people fell under the pressure, unable to endure the sheer weight of Rudra's presence.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

In the now eerily throne room, only Rudra and his clone remained standing. Slowly, the clone walked forward and placed Cecile's body in Rudra's arms. Rudra looked down at her face—so still, so quiet—and gently brushed her hair away, his expression unreadable.

Then, he turned to the clone.

No words were exchanged. A silent nod passed between them.

Rudra's body dissolved into a swarm of black crows, carrying Cecile with him, vanishing without a trace—leaving behind only the wind, the ruins, and the silence of those who remained.

***

After what felt like hours of stillness, Mira Jane's eyes fluttered open. Her head throbbed, and her body ached as though she had just survived an explosion. Groaning, she slowly pushed herself up from the cold, blood-slick marble floor.

A soft moan to her right made her turn—Erza was stirring, her scarlet hair matted with dust and specks of dried blood. She too rose slowly, scanning their surroundings with widening eyes.

"What... what happened?" Erza murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I don't know," Mira replied, her voice trembling. "One second, we were facing Victor... trying to protect Rudra. And then—"

"A portal opened," Erza finished grimly, eyes narrowing. "And a clone of Rudra appeared... and everything went black."

They both looked around.

Bodies.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of them. Noblemen, soldiers, mages—all dead.

Some lay in pieces, limbs scattered like broken dolls. Others were burned beyond recognition, faces twisted in eternal screams. Blood soaked the carpeted floor, staining the once-regal throne room in crimson.

Mira clutched her stomach, bile rising. "This... this is a massacre. What could've done this?"

Her voice cracked as she whispered, "Why is everyone dead?"

A low, calm voice answered from behind them, "I can tell you what happened, Mira-dono."

They both spun around instantly, startled.

Jura.

He was sitting against a cracked pillar, his robes torn and stained, but alive. His face was pale, his usually composed eyes hollow and exhausted.

"Saint Jura!" Erza cried as she rushed toward him. "Are you alright?"

Jura gave a tired nod. "Alive... barely."

"Did you see what happened?" she asked quickly.

He nodded again.

"Then tell us," Erza said, urgency building in her tone. "Who did this?"

Jura hesitated for a moment. "It was... Rudra."

Silence fell.

Mira's eyes widened in disbelief. "What... what are you saying, Jura? Rudra would never do this!"

"I'm telling you what I saw," Jura said quietly. "When I regained consciousness... he was standing in the middle of the bloodshed. Unharmed. Silent. Like it meant nothing."

"No," Mira whispered, shaking her head. "That's not possible."

"If you don't believe me," Jura said, resting his head back against the pillar, "then go. Find him. Ask him yourself."

Without another word, Mira and Erza dashed out of the throne room, urgency propelling their limbs faster than pain or fatigue could hold them back.

Hours passed.

They searched the capital and beyond, following traces of magic, wordless whispers of energy. Eventually, they found him—outside the city, sitting quietly beneath a towering tree on a hill.

Rudra.

Still, silent, staring into the distance.

He didn't move as they approached, the wind gently tousling his hair.

"Rudra!" Erza called out, stopping a few feet away. "Rudra, what happened back there? Jura said—"

But before she could finish, a scream echoed from the nearby woods.

"Help me! Someone! Please!"

Mira and Erza turned to their left in shock. From the shadows, a second Rudra—his clone—emerged, dragging a mangled body by the hair.

Victor.

Or what was left of him.

His arms and legs had been severed, his face battered beyond recognition. One of his eyes was missing, and the remaining one darted in panic as the clone dragged him mercilessly across the dirt.

"This is the power you always wanted, right?" the clone hissed, voice cold and cruel. "How do you like it now?"

"I-I didn't want this!" Victor sobbed, squirming helplessly. "I didn't want it to end like this! Please, someone... help me!"

He couldn't see Mira or Erza—his eye was gone, and blood covered his face.

"You don't get to beg now," the clone said, placing a foot on Victor's back. "This is what all those women felt, isn't it? When you took them from their homes, made them your maids, then offered them to demons... for power."

Victor trembled. "I... I'm sorry! I didn't know—I was wrong, please! I was wrong!"

The clone said nothing.

With one swift motion, he grabbed Victor's hair with both hands and yanked, tearing his head from his body. Blood gushed in an arc as the clone flung the severed head at the real Rudra, who sat unmoving beneath the tree.

"Everything's done, boss," the clone said, a soft smile forming as his body began to dissolve into glowing particles. "Now she'll be at peace."

And then, he vanished—leaving only Mira, Erza, and Rudra under the shade of the tree.

Neither Mira nor Erza spoke. They simply stared—eyes wide, hearts pounding, the image of Victor's execution still burned into their minds.

Erza finally broke the silence, her voice shaky. "Rudra... was that—"

But before she could finish, Rudra swayed slightly, and then—collapsed.

"Rudra!" Mira shouted.

They both rushed forward in panic, dropping to their knees beside him. His body was limp, his face pale, sweat clinging to his brow. Blood stained the grass beneath him—his left arm still bleeding.

"He's unconscious," Erza muttered, quickly tearing part of her sleeve to press against the wound. "He's lost too much blood!"

Mira's hands trembled as she reached for Rudra's wrist, checking for a pulse. "It's weak... but he's alive."

Erza looked up at the old tree, then around the quiet hilltop. "We need to get him to a healer. Now."

Mira nodded. "There's no time to call for help. I'll carry him."

Without waiting for permission, Mira gently lifted Rudra into her arms, her expression fierce and protective. Her hands were stained red, but her grip was steady.

As they began moving, Erza asked, "Do you think... this was all the clone's doing? Or was it really him?"

Mira didn't answer at first. She just looked down at Rudra's unconscious face.

"I don't know," she whispered. "But if there's even a chance he's innocent... then I have to believe in him."

Erza nodded grimly. "Then let's find the truth—before anyone else decides to judge him first."