Alzack and Bisca couldn't quite imagine how the First Guild Master commanded battles, but just seeing the strategic points that Rhodes marked after organizing the intel was already imnsely helpful—especially for Bisca.
As a sniper, being able to quickly identify a solid vantage point was half the battle won.
And Rhodes had casually sent out a few of his summoned monsters, and in no ti at all, had mapped out a series of ideal sniping spots and concealed perches.
"Got it!" Rhodes suddenly called out as one of his Murk Wolves returned to the Summoner's Rift on its own.
He imdiately summoned the wolf again and crouched down to speak to it.
"Did you find people, or their hideout?" he asked, holding out his left hand for "people" and his right for "base."
The Murk Wolf paused, then reached out a paw and tapped his right hand, followed by his left.
"Hmm..." Rhodes thought for a second. "So you found the base first... and there were people inside it?"
The Murk Wolf nodded firmly.
"Not bad," Rhodes muttered. "You're thorough."
Asking which hill it was exactly would've been pushing it—the wolf couldn't give detailed answers. He briefly considered whether he could teach it to write.
Recalling the other monsters scouting the area, he quickly dismissed them, summoned two Scuttle Crabs, and sent them off with the Murk Wolf to scout ahead.
"Are we not going with them?" Alzack asked.
Rhodes tapped the side of his head. "We are. I can link up with the crabs' vision and guide us forward. You two cover the flanks and rear. Sound good?"
Alzack nodded. "Got it."
Bisca raised her sniper rifle with a confident smirk. "That's my specialty."
With two expert marksn on guard duty, Rhodes felt completely at ease. Compared to Natsu's unpredictable instincts, Gray's lightning-fast ice magic, this kind of thodical teamwork was refreshing.
Everyone in Fairy Tail seed to have their own unique niche. Even if it wasn't always about brute strength, each of them had honed sothing they could claim as their own.
Fairy Tail really was one of the top guilds in Fiore.
That made Rhodes think—what was his niche?
If soone asked, "All your teammates are top-tier in sothing. What's your specialty?" he couldn't exactly answer:
"My wife is the most beautiful in the country."
Okay, it was inappropriate. But still... kind of satisfying to imagine.
...
Before they left Magnolia, Mira had ntioned the terrain was "rough." Now that they were here, Rhodes could confirm—it wasn't exactly a sheer cliff, but it was far from an easy hike.
Fortunately, the three of them weren't ordinary people. Even without ropes or climbing gear, they always found a way.
Rhodes took the lead, scouting the trail ahead and clearing the path. Whenever they ca across particularly difficult sections, he would use partial Take Over magic—morphing his arm into a wolf's claw or a Krug's gauntlet—to carve small footholds for the others behind him.
He even tested both forms to see which was more efficient for digging through dirt and stone.
anwhile, Alzack and Bisca followed a little behind, occasionally helping each other along as they navigated narrow ledges and unstable ground.
The more Bisca walked, the more grateful she felt to be tead up with Rhodes—he was attentive to even the smallest details, taking care of everything from climbing routes to battlefield preparation.
Alzack, on the other hand, was thrilled for another reason: climbing in close proximity ant there were monts where he and Bisca naturally had to reach for each other's hands, steadying one another across steep slopes.
Rhodes made sure to keep just far enough ahead to give them space.
'Hiking,' he thought, was one of the best ways to bring people closer together.
The trio quickly scaled the hillside, carefully navigating the narrow ridge between two peaks. Just ahead lay the bandits' hideout.
"Sothing's happening," Bisca muttered, pressing her eye to her sniper scope.
Rhodes and Alzack imdiately halted and positioned themselves to guard her flanks.
Alzack followed her gaze. "That's... a carriage? Is it a rchant caravan?"
Rhodes squinted toward the far-off slope. The mountain trees were a golden blur of yellow and green, and a faint road wound its way at the foot of the opposite peak. It wasn't the path they had taken—this road stretched around the other side.
But from this distance, even spotting the carriage was a challenge.
"It's a robbery," Bisca said grimly. "The bandits are ambushing them. I count ten hostiles. A full-scale bombardnt risks hitting civilians. If I use my Sniper mode, I can drop six in one clean shot, but;"
"Leave the rest to ," Alzack said, his voice calm and assured. "It's tough to shoot that far with a pistol, but, got a spare sniper rifle?"
When it ca to combat, Alzack was a different man—sharp, focused, and steady. Gone was the flustered deanor he'd shown earlier in the carriage.
"Re-equip!" Bisca called, and with a shimr of light, a second sniper rifle appeared beside her.
Alzack caught it effortlessly, raising the weapon with practiced ease.
"Krugs, co forth," Rhodes commanded, summoning several of the hulking, stone-plated beasts. The Krugs crouched low, their sturdy backs forming a makeshift firing platform.
"Thanks, Rhodes," Bisca said, setting up her rifle atop the solid krug shell. Alzack did the sa on the one beside her, both perfectly steady.
"I'll take the six on the right," Bisca declared, already calibrating her sights.
"Then I'll handle the four on the left," Alzack replied without hesitation.
No more words were needed.
They silently counted down together—three... two... one...
"Sniper Art: Sharpshooter!"
A small, erald-green magic circle shimred into view at the muzzle of Bisca's rifle. With a sharp crack, six magic bullets shot out simultaneously, piercing through the air and striking their marks with pinpoint accuracy.
"Sniper Art: Lightning Barrage!"
Alzack followed up, his magic taking a slightly different form. He didn't fire in a single volley, but instead let loose four consecutive shots in rapid succession.
His reloading speed using magic was astonishing—almost as soon as one round left the barrel, the next was already chambered and fired.
Each shot found its target with surgical precision. The four bandits were struck one after another, collapsing as golden arcs of electricity crackled across their bodies.
"Targets down!" Alzack and Bisca high-fived each other, triumphant.
Then, right on cue, both of them turned beet red.
"Bisca, you... you're really amazing with a rifle."
"You too," Bisca replied quickly, flustered. "Your magic was so cool."
Rhodes, watching the two of them flounder with embarrassnt, resisted the urge to toss them each a mint—because clearly, they needed sothing to cool off.
"I'm heading down to check on the caravan owner—at the very least, we should escort him safely out of the danger zone," Rhodes said.
"Can I trust you two to keep watch here? If more enemies show up—"
"No problem," Alzack replied confidently, patting the back of the Krug beneath him. "With these guys here, I'm not worried in the slightest!"
Bisca nodded with a smile. "Right? These things are incredible. You called them Krugs, right? They're perfect partners for marksn like us."
After all, what gunner wouldn't love a portable, obedient bunker that could move with you, obey commands, and was tougher than solid stone?
Not to ntion, the Krugs could use basic Earth Magic and, if necessary, dig an escape route underground at a mont's notice.
The two of them were seriously impressed—and more than a little jealous of Rhodes' summoned companions.
They even exchanged glances, half-jokingly wondering if they should just team up with him permanently—Rhodes could hang back and provide support, and they could hog the Krugs every battle. Simple and effective!
"All right. Stay sharp," Rhodes said, raising his arm. "Take over: Murk Wolf!"
In a flash, he transford into a sleek, humanoid wolf—dark-furred and muscular, built for speed and agility. With long strides and nimble reflexes, he leapt down into the woods, dashing toward the scene of the attack.
He could've flown there instead, using his raptor form... but honestly, his flying was still about as effective as a dosticated chicken's.
A cat with fake wings probably had more lift than he did.
So rather than humiliate himself, Rhodes chose the cooler option—and the safer one too.
Reviews
All reviews (0)