Bands of Iron [Gale] {The FT Love Chronicles; Book 2}

Chapter Seven

 Gajeel coughed hard, attempting to clear the smoke from his lungs. The smell of it was suffocating him, and he couldn't see anything going on around him. That also meant he couldn't sense the booted foot as it came out of nowhere, meeting his gut in a kick that knocked the breath out of him. He tumbled backwards, wheezing in the putrid smoke as he caught his breath.

“This damned smoke is annoying!” Ignoring the stinging in his nose and lungs, Gajeel inhaled deeply. “Iron Dragon's Roar!” The wind caused by his magic successfully dispersed the smoke, making it so he could breathe again.

“Very nice. I wasn't expecting you to figure out how to get rid of the smoke so fast.” A voice came from the remaining smoke. As it faded away, a man in all black was left standing on the street directly in front of Gajeel.

“I'm guessing you're the bastard who's been attacking the dragon slayers?” Gajeel got to his feet, readying himself for a fight.

Instead of answering, the man simply laughed. With incredible speed, the man attacked again, landing several blows to Gajeel's face and stomach before he could counter-attack. Gajeel swung his fist at the guy's head, but he ducked just before it came into contact with him.

“I'm disappointed, Gajeel Redfox,” the man sighed, crossing his arms. “I was led to believe that you were a skilled hand-to-hand fighter. Your speed was really bragged about, but I guess they were mistaken. You won't even be a fun fight.”

“You've got a lot of nerve, saying that after you ambushed me with that damned smoke bomb!” Gajeel growled, infuriated by his attacker's cocky attitude.

“It's a nice little invention, don't you think? You slayers have a keen sense of smell, so I thought, why not use that to my advantage? It was all too easy to come up with a mixture that would be over-whelming for someone such as yourself. I'm quite proud of them, actually.”

“You sure as hell like to talk, don't you?” Gajeel frowned, lunging at him. He managed to land a hit to the guy's chest before he jumped out of the way.

“Damn. I think you broke a rib or two,” he said, rubbing his chest. “I see I'm going to have to get serious, after all.”

“Tch,” Gajeel snapped. “Serious or not, you're not walking out of here.”

“You think so?” He laughed, unsheathing a gleaming sword. “Because I think it's you who won't be walking out of here.”

“Iron Dragon's Sword!” Gajeel shouted, swinging his arm at his attacker.

“Ah, yes, I forgot that you had a sword of your own,” he mused, dodging Gajeel's attacks. “Too bad it won't do you any good against mine.” He lashed out, blocking Gajeel's arm with his sword as his leg swung up to kick Gajeel in the side of the head.

Gajeel cursed as he stood, spitting blood from his mouth. “How did he block me with just a sword?”

“Skill,” the man chuckled. “Even if my sword is weaker than your iron body, if I have the skill to wield it correctly, then I'll still be able to use it against you.” Pulling something from his pocket, the man smiled again. “You should use everything to your advantage in a battle.” He threw the object to the ground. Cursing, Gajeel was once again bombarded by the putrid smoke. He couldn't tell where his attacker had gone, and his nose was useless.

Suddenly, a sword appeared through the smoke, slicing into his un-protected arm. It disappeared, only to return a second later to deal more damage to his chest and stomach.

“Argh!” Gajeel shouted, feeling the blood trickle from his wounds to the ground.

“See? This fight is already over,” came his attacker's voice through the smoke.