Fairy Tail's Deception Mage

The road up the mountain.

The golden sunset stretched the shadow of the person climbing the mountain long from the side.

He was an eighteen-year-old young man.

He stood 176 centimeters tall, with well-proportioned build and an upright posture.

He wore a fitted black suit beneath a knee-length mage's cloak, giving off an air of gentlemanly elegance and refinement.

He was handsome, with delicate features and healthy fair skin.

He wore black half-rim glasses, his expression modest and gentle.

His shoulder-length purple hair was tied into a low ponytail, every strand meticulously groomed, smooth and glossy.

He carried a gentleman's cane.

His pace was unhurried.

Ifrit de la Valier.

A viscount of the Fiore Kingdom.

It was the title passed down to him by his adoptive father.

In his previous life, Ifrit had been called Zhang Wei. He had been an ordinary office worker with an unremarkable life, until overtime work killed him. There was nothing much to say about it.

At the start of this life, he had been an abandoned infant of unknown origin, tossed into a trash can and wailing loudly.

Later, he had been taken home by a kind but childless fallen old noble.

Francis de la Valier had been a hereditary viscount, though his family had fallen on hard times.

After finding Zhang Wei, he named him Ifrit, meaning "infinite," hoping he would possess limitless possibilities.

He also added "de," the abbreviation of his grandfather's name. His grandfather had been a great philanthropist renowned far and wide, admired for his character.

Just as his father had hoped for him, he too hoped his child would possess the same virtues as his grandfather.

"La" was the abbreviation of his wife's name.

Francis had bestowed all his finest hopes upon Ifrit.

Ifrit had always worked hard to study culture and knowledge.

That was how he learned this was the world of Fairy Tail.

In his previous life, he had always longed for the magic of the Fairy Tail world.

Ice-Make Magic, Dragon Slayer Magic, Titan Transformation Magic—how cool were those?!

Erza's Requip Magic and Gildarts's Crush Magic were pretty badass too!

But.

When he was six years old.

Francis taught him the family magic—Deception Magic.

It was a very weak kind of magic.

His adoptive father had researched it for most of his life, yet he could only pose as a street magician and earn enough to get by.

Four years ago, Francis passed away, leaving his title and scant inheritance to Ifrit.

Having come to the world of Fairy Tail, how could he not join Fairy Tail?

It was a place that could heal wounds of the heart and protect lonely people.

So he joined the Fairy Tail guild.

He had not made a name for himself or become a dazzling newcomer featured in the newspapers.

Within the guild.

Above him were the Guild Master of the Ten Wizard Saints and the pillar of the guild, Gildarts.

In the middle were S-Class Mages like Erza, Mystogan, Laxus, and Mirajane.

Below were popular newcomers like Natsu and Gray, who occasionally destroyed half a town.

Within the guild, Ifrit was merely a well-liked mediocrity.

After all.

His magic was very weak.

"Who are you?"

"You dare come up this mountain?!"

"Don't you know this is Lord Harry's territory?!"

Several men stood on the hillside, their clothes dusty and weapons hanging from their waists. They were shouting at Ifrit.

Ifrit raised his head, adjusted his glasses, and politely asked, "Excuse me, is this where Harry, the bandit leader with an 800,000 J bounty, is located?"

"That's right!" one man answered.

Another asked, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Only after Ifrit stepped onto the upper platform did he see the bandit hideout.

There were more than ten houses here, along with some common facilities.

Around fifty bandits had gathered here, all watching him with varying expressions.

Ifrit said, "Have any of you heard of Lullaby?"

"What?"

"What nonsense is this?"

"Just kill him already!"

The bandits were extremely impatient. Some had even raised their guns.

Ifrit continued as though nothing had happened. "Lullaby is a flute with a powerful curse. When Lullaby is played, a gigantic demon will appear, and everyone who hears its melody will have their lives taken by that demon."

"What nonsense are you talking about?!"

"How could something like that exist?!"

The nearby bandits could no longer tolerate it. One drew his blade, intending to cut down this braggart in a single strike.

Ifrit raised his left hand. He was holding a flute carved with a human head, grotesque and terrifying in appearance.

He raised the flute to his lips and played it.

"Woooo—" An eerie, terrifying sound emerged from the flute.

"Stop him!" a bandit shouted.

They did not believe his words, but since this man had dared to enter a bandit hideout alone, he had to have something to rely on. They could not afford to be careless!

The bandit who had drawn his sword was just about to strike.

Rumble!

The heavens and earth shook!

Terrifying gusts of wind swept across the mountain, carrying sand and dust that stung their faces.

The setting sun was blocked by a massive figure, plunging the entire mountain into shadow!

"N-No way!"

The bandits stared in disbelief at the enormous existence that had suddenly appeared.

It was a terrifying, ugly demon!

It was taller than the mountain!

Its entire body radiated a dark, evil aura!

Thud!

A bandit suddenly collapsed dead!

"Ah!"

The surrounding bandits were terrified and tried to flee, only to discover that they could not move their bodies at all!

That man was playing the Demon Flute!

Everything he had said was true!

Thud!

Another bandit fell!

"N-No, don't kill me!" One bandit pissed and shit himself as he cried and begged for mercy.

"No." Ifrit's voice sounded beside his ear. He turned his head in disbelief and saw the other man holding a pistol, which he shoved into his mouth.

Wasn't he playing the flute from far away?!

Why was he here?!

Ifrit said coldly, "If you had shown mercy to pregnant women and children when you slaughtered those villages, I might have spent a few seconds listening to your excuses."

He pulled the trigger.

The bandit fell.

Meanwhile, all the other bandits remained blankly staring at the beautiful scene of the setting sun and evening clouds in the distance.

Everything was peaceful and serene.

There was no giant demon.

There was no cursed flute.

Ifrit had never been there playing the flute in the first place.

He deceived the five senses and the seven emotions and six desires.

That was Ifrit's magic.

It could not alter reality. It had no visual effects, not even the slightest bit of offensive power. It was the weak—Deception Magic.

All it could do was deceive the bandits' hearing, sight, touch, smell, and taste.

It made them think they heard the flute; saw the enormous demon; felt the violent wind; smelled the scent of darkness and death; tasted the flavor of demon blood permeating the air.

It could also deceive the bandits' minds, magnifying their fear and making them think they had been restrained by the demon. In reality, it was merely a human instinct—when fear reached its limit, the body became unable to move.

Their hearing had been deceived, so they could not hear the gunshots echoing through the valley.

With his cane in his right hand and a black revolver with gold trim in his left, Ifrit elegantly shot every bandit dead as though taking a stroll.

"Damn it! You Deception Mage!"

The bandit king Harry emerged from a house. He carefully observed the situation for a while and confirmed that the sky was merely an illusion, while that mage was killing people with a pistol!

He could use magic too.

When he unleashed his magic power.

The illusion before his eyes shattered like a mirror!

He saw Ifrit, who was looking at him in surprise.

Harry angrily grabbed at the air, and the earth by his feet condensed into an Earth Spear that he gripped in his hand.

Holding the spear, he charged fiercely at Ifrit.

And in doing so, brought about his own death!

Seven or eight bursts of Pain shot through his upper body!

All the illusions vanished.

He was still inside the house. A wall stood before him, with several long blades embedded backward into it. Their tips had pierced through his body, the blades sunk completely in!

Blood sprayed wildly from his mouth. He turned his head and stared in disbelief at Ifrit, who was standing quietly beside him.

"W-When..." he asked with difficulty.

Ifrit smiled faintly. "Well, when do you think?"

The scene shifted.

At the bottom of the cliff beside the entrance to the bandit hideout.

Click.

Ifrit picked up his camera and took the final photograph.

"Mission complete."

He took out a clean, neatly folded handkerchief and wiped away the barely noticeable sweat on his forehead.

Killing a group of bandits alone had taken quite a bit of effort.

He really was such a weak mage.

Fortunately, Fairy Tail did not discriminate against the weak.

Magnolia.

Knowing he was not good at physical exertion, Ifrit still hired a carriage after leaving the station and had it take him to the guild entrance.

It was not as noisy inside as usual.

He walked in and swept his gaze around.

Sure enough, Natsu was not there.

Gray, wearing only his underwear, was lying there asleep out of boredom.

Ifrit walked to the counter and smiled faintly at Mirajane.

Mirajane Strauss, Fairy Tail's poster girl, was a powerful S-Class Mage. Once known as the Demon, she had possessed an even more volatile temper than Erza. However, after suffering a devastating blow, she had become as gentle and peaceful as she was now.

Mirajane exclaimed, "You completed the mission without even getting your clothes dirty? As expected of Mr. Ifrit. You're truly amazing!"

"It was only a few groups of bandits. It is not worth praising," Ifrit said modestly.

He raised his left hand, holding an exquisitely made Poker Card with a black background and gold trim. He continued, "Still, your praise brings me Alegria. In praise of your gentleness and beauty, Miss Mirajane, please accept this small gift."

He flicked his wrist. The card vanished, replaced by a piece of paper folded twice.

"Thank you." Mirajane smiled as she took the folded paper and opened it. It was a Supermarket Coupon.

"These are the mission photographs."

Ifrit took out the photographs.

Mirajane looked at what they depicted. There was not the slightest environmental damage, and all the bandits lay quietly on the ground.

And Harry, the great bandit who had fallen off the cliff with a bullet in the back of his head, probably had not even known how he had died.

She marveled inwardly: Deception Magic truly was a terrifying kind of magic!