The deeper I ventured into the forest, the heavier the air became. A thick, metallic tang lingered, stinging my throat with every breath.
Great. Smells like something died here. Or multiple somethings.
I kept my eyes locked on the glowing marker on the summoned map, marking a settlement just beyond the forest's edge. Almost there.
Then I heard it.
A low, guttural growl.
My body reacted before my mind could catch up—feet shifting into a balanced stance, fingers tightening around the knife I had at the ready. I knew that sound. It was the universal noise for you're about to get your face eaten off.
Slowly, I turned.
From the shadows emerged hulking figures, their red eyes gleaming with hunger. They resembled gorillas, but their elongated chins, pointed ears, and massive, clawed hands made them look… wrong. Their bodies were grotesquely disproportionate—towering upper frames supported by thick, powerful legs. Muscular tails lashed the air.
Vulcans.
I stared. Oh, come on. Vulcans? Like the Fairy Tail monsters?
My stomach twisted. If these creatures were real, then that meant everything in Fairy Tail was real.
Zeref. Acnologia. The Spriggan 12.
You know—the kinds of people who casually commit war crimes with the flick of a wrist.
Yeah, okay. Mildly concerning.
A deep roar snapped me back to reality.
The first Vulcan charged, raising a massive spiked club.
My brain barely had time to go oh sh— before my body moved.
My legs shifted, my torso twisted, and I sidestepped the swing with unnatural ease. The Vulcan's club slammed into the dirt, shaking the ground.
Holy—
My hands flicked out instinctively, dismissing the knife and summoning a steel longsword. It felt natural, as if I had trained with it for years.
And then—without thinking, I counterattacked.
My blade slashed through the Vulcan's side before I even realized I had swung. Thick black blood splattered onto the ground.
I barely had time to process the hit before another one lunged at me from the right.
"Not today, big guy."
I dismissed the sword mid-motion, summoning a chain whip instead. The weapon lashed out, wrapping around the Vulcan's wrist.
Why the hell do I know how to use a chain whip?!
No time to question it. I yanked hard. The Vulcan lost its balance, crashing onto its back with a confused grunt.
Another beast lunged—two more emerging from the shadows.
"Oh, fantastic. More meatheads."
Twin daggers flashed into my grip. My body moved. I dashed between them, blades carving through their limbs with effortless precision. I weaved through their attacks like a veteran warrior.
I wasn't just dodging.
I was anticipating.
My movements were precise. Fluid. Almost too fluid.
It was like my body already knew exactly what to do. Like I had been fighting for years.
This is insane. This is actually insane.
I grinned. "This is busted as hell."
But I needed to end this quickly.
I dismissed the daggers.
A golden glow erupted in my palm as Caliburn materialized—the legendary Sword of Selection, shining with refined power. It wasn't as destructive as Excalibur, but it was still a blade of kings.
The Vulcans hesitated.
"Oh, now you guys get a bad feeling?" I muttered.
Too late.
I stepped forward and swung.
A golden arc of energy slashed through the air, cleaving two Vulcans cleanly in half. Their bodies fell with heavy thuds, black blood steaming in the night air.
The last one howled and charged in desperation.
I sidestepped, my body moving with terrifying precision, and drove Caliburn straight through its chest.
The creature let out a wet gasp before collapsing.
Silence.
I exhaled, dismissing Caliburn, my hands trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the sheer power I had just wielded.
I looked down at the fallen Vulcans, then at my own hands.
"I can wield any weapon… perfectly," I murmured, the reality of it settling over me. "No training, no practice… just instant mastery."
I swallowed hard. This was beyond broken.
But my mind raced back to a single thought.
If Vulcans were real…
Then so were Zeref. Acnologia.
And I am so not ready for that level of bullshit.
I exhaled, shaking off the tension. "No pressure, huh?"
But if there was one thing I knew for sure—
I wasn't going to die in this world.
I had Celestial Inventory. I had Absolute Mastery.
And I had a feeling I was only scratching the surface.
Later That Night
The forest was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. After hours of walking with no sign of civilization, I decided to set up camp in a small clearing. With a thought, I summoned a tent—nothing extravagant, but enchanted to keep monsters at bay. The last thing I needed was a repeat of the Vulcan ambush while I slept.
Sitting by the crackling fire, I exhaled slowly, letting the warmth sink into my tired muscles. The fight earlier had been exhilarating, but it also made something glaringly obvious—I was still human. My body, while competent, had limits. If I wanted to survive in this world, if I wanted to stand at the top, I couldn't rely solely on my weapons. I needed to enhance myself.
With a flick of my wrist, the translucent interface of my Celestial Inventory appeared before me. My eyes scanned through thousands of items, sorting through possibilities. Even now, the sheer depth of my collection amazed me. It was like having a personal archive of the multiverse's greatest treasures, all at my fingertips.
The first enhancement that caught my eye was the Super Soldier Serum from the MCU. Enhanced strength, speed, agility, and endurance with none of the side effects of the original experiments. A solid choice. But after some thought, I dismissed it. It was impressive in a world of normal humans, but here? In Fairy Tail, where monsters and magic reigned supreme? It wouldn't be enough.
I scrolled further. Phoenix Tears from Harry Potter. Near-instant healing, the ability to regenerate damaged tissue, and immunity to poisons and curses. Useful, but ultimately, it was a one-time consumable. I needed something permanent.
Then there was Saiyan DNA from Dragon Ball Z. I paused, considering the implications. The Zenkai boosts alone would make me terrifying in battle. But did I really want to mess with my biology to that extent? The thought of waking up with a monkey tail or an uncontrollable urge to fight every strong person I saw wasn't exactly appealing. I filed it under maybe and kept scrolling.
And then—I found it.
Fountain of Youth
A sacred treasure of the Fairy Clan, granting eternal life and true regeneration.
I stared at the glowing vial in my inventory, my pulse quickening. This wasn't just healing. This was immortality.
I wouldn't have to worry about fatal wounds. I wouldn't have to fear death. Even if I was torn apart, I'd regenerate.
For a moment, doubt flickered in my mind. This wasn't just an upgrade—it was irreversible. Once I took this step, there was no turning back.
Then again, wasn't that the whole point?
My fingers hovered over the summon command.
Excitement coursed through me, but I kept my emotions tempered. If there was one thing I had learned about my Celestial Inventory, it was that, as broken as it seemed, it still had its limits. Unlike the infamous Gate of Babylon from Fate, I couldn't just summon an endless barrage of weapons to overwhelm my enemies. Every item required deliberate thought and careful timing. A single mistake could leave me vulnerable to an ambush.
"I don't want to die prematurely just because I was unprepared," I thought grimly. My grip on reality had always been firm—this world was dangerous, and even a minor slip-up could cost me everything.
I leaned back, exhaling slowly as my eyes lingered on the glowing words in front of me.
For god's sake, I have one of the most broken—perhaps the most broken—ability in fiction. I'd be an idiot if I didn't utilize my gift properly.
The fire crackled beside me as I made my decision.