Wielding magnetism magic in fairy tail

Everyone run! It's Ironheart!"

The panicked cries of bandits echoed through the forest clearing as they scrambled in every direction. Some darted toward the trees in desperation, while others froze, staring at the figure floating above them.

A tall man hovered in the air, his long black hair flowing behind him like a curtain of shadow. A worn leather jacket draped over his shoulders, the edges fluttering slightly in the breeze. His calm, focused gaze swept across the terrified group below.

With a flick of his wrist, several glowing magic circles appeared around him, spinning lazily in the air. Metal shards dropped from the magic circle and scattered across the ground—suddenly vibrated, rising and floating toward the bandits.

But they didn't just fly straight.

The shards twisted, morphing mid-air into sharp chains, jagged blades, and spiked projectiles. Each piece hovered like a predator waiting to strike.

"No, no, no!" one of the bandits yelled, stumbling backward. "Don't let him catch you!"

The figure dropped to the ground in one fluid motion, landing with a soft thud. His right hand gripped the hilt of a short sword strapped to his side. Without hesitation, he surged forward.

The first bandit barely had time to react before the figure kicked him square in the chest, sending him skidding across the dirt.

A flash of light erupted from behind—a blast of magic aimed directly at the figure's back. Without even glancing, he raised his sword, deflecting the attack with ease. Sparks crackled across the blade as the magic dissipated.

Before the attacker could fire again, a small chunk of metal zipped through the air, striking him in the forehead and knocking him unconscious.

A massive bandit, clad in thick armor, roared and charged forward, his heavy steps shaking the ground beneath him.

In response, several large metal plates—previously discarded—lifted into the air and slammed together, forming a dense wall between them.

The armored bandit didn't slow. He smashed into the wall with full force, causing it to crack, but the figure didn't flinch.

As the bandit barreled through the weakened barrier, the figure stepped forward calmly. With a swift diagonal slash, his short sword glowed faintly, mirroring the color of the magic blast from earlier.

The strike didn't just stop the armored bandit—it sent him flying backward, blood trailing from a deep gash across his chest. The light from the attack lingered in the air like a scar left by the blade itself.

As the armored bandit crumpled to the ground, the rest of the group hesitated, exchanging fearful glances.

A bandit at the rear, desperate to turn the tide, sprinted toward a large iron cage. With trembling hands, he flung it open.

"Take this!" the bandit shrieked as several monstrous beasts roared to life, stampeding toward the figure.

The figure didn't move.

Instead, the floating shards of metal spiraled into the air, converging into the shape of an enormous hand.

With a sharp downward motion, the figure commanded the hand to slam into the monsters, crushing them beneath its weight.

The bandit who released them collapsed to the ground, his legs giving out beneath him. He scooted backward, shaking uncontrollably.

"P-please… don't hurt me…" he stammered, tears welling in his eyes.

The figure flicked his wrist again. A small piece of metal shot forward, hitting the bandit square on the head and knocking him out cold.

Chains of iron slithered across the ground, wrapping tightly around the unconscious bandits, binding them together in one neat pile.

The figure exhaled, brushing some dirt from his jacket.

"That should do it," he muttered under his breath. "Now to inform the town guard and head back to Fairy Tail."

As the light faded and the dust settled, the identity of the lone figure became clear.

The one who had subdued the bandits so effortlessly was Damien Voss.

After finishing his business, Damien headed back toward town. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets of Magnolia. As he walked, his gaze drifted over the familiar shops and bustling crowds.

It had been 13 years since he first arrived in Magnolia, and the town had changed in many ways. But so had he.

I've grown stronger… a lot stronger.

Damien could feel it in every step he took. His control over magnetism magic had advanced to levels he wouldn't have thought possible years ago. The amount of raw power he could generate now far surpassed anything he'd imagined back when he started training under his grandparents.

But strength alone wasn't what made the difference.

The problem that had plagued his magnetism magic for so long—lack of metal—was finally solved.

Through relentless study and practice, Damien had learned another type of magic. Create Magic.

By itself, Create Magic wasn't anything special. Most people used it to craft simple materials—basic stuff like stone, wood, or cloth. Nothing rare, no valuable metals or exotic plants. The objects produced were often mundane and temporary, disappearing after a short time if not reinforced.

But for Damien… it was exactly what he needed.

He refined his control, using Create Magic to generate metal—simple iron and steel at first, but through constant use and practice, the metal became stronger and more detailed.

Now, he could conjure materials at will, shaping them instantly into whatever form he desired. The giant metal hand he had used in his earlier fight? That wasn't some rare enchanted item. It was a product of his own creation, molded effortlessly from his magic.

As he passed by a small bakery, the owner—a young woman—leaned out from behind the counter, her face turning bright red the moment she saw him.

"Damien! We've got a special discount just for you today," she said with an awkward smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He nodded politely. "Thanks, but I'm good for now."

A few steps later, another familiar voice called out.

"Hey, Damien! You should come by the museum later—we've got a new exhibit opening," said the museum curator, who was also blushing furiously.

Damien sighed internally, offering her a brief wave as he continued walking.

That was another thing that had changed over the years.

He hadn't just grown stronger—he had grown ridiculously handsome.

It wasn't something he thought much of at first. But as time passed, he couldn't ignore the reality. Everywhere he went, women turned red just talking to him. Some stammered nervously, while others blatantly tried to flirt.

At first, Damien brushed it off. But now, it was an almost daily occurrence.

I didn't ask to be a heartthrob…

While he didn't mind the attention most of the time, it did have its downsides.

For every lovestruck woman, there was always a guy nearby giving him that look—the look of sheer irritation and jealousy.

Damien had lost count of how many times he'd walked into a bar or market only to be met with glares from men who clearly wanted to throw him out.

I'd be sick of it by now if not for the guild…

Fairy Tail was the one place where he didn't have to deal with it. Inside the guild hall, no one treated him any differently just because he looked good. It was one of the few places he could relax without people trying to catch his eye every five minutes.

But there was something else that annoyed him.

His reputation had grown so much that he almost never took off his long leather jacket when walking through town.

If they're acting like this just from my face, what would happen if I walked around without this thing where they can see my perfectly crafted body

(image Damien Voss)

Damien glanced down at his jacket, shaking his head as he adjusted the collar.

I'm not about to find out.

Damien finally arrived at his house, shutting the door behind him with a sigh of relief. The weight of the day's events slipped off his shoulders as he leaned against the wall for a moment.

His home was one of the nicest in Magnolia—spacious, well-kept, and located near the quieter edges of town. He had bought it when he turned sixteen, four years ago, after saving up enough money from countless jobs and missions.

As far as he knew, the only other people in town with houses like his were the guild master and a few of the S-Class wizards.

Not that he bragged about it.

Damien walked toward the living room, peeling off his long leather jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair. The cool air felt good against his skin after wearing it all day.

Finally…

He made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass. It was one of those rare evenings where he could just sit back, relax, and unwind.

Taking his glass, he moved to the couch and slouched into the cushions, reaching for the small box on the table—a form of magical entertainment that resembled the TVs from his old world.

"At least they have something like TV here," he muttered to himself, swirling the glass in his hand.

Just as his thumb hovered over the power button, a soft click echoed from behind him.

Damien froze.

He slowly turned his head, already having a sinking suspicion of what—or rather who—was behind him.

Stepping out from the hallway, wrapped in nothing but a towel, was Cana Alberona. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders as she rubbed at it with another smaller towel.

"Man, your shower is so much better than mine," she said casually, as if nothing was out of place.

Damien immediately snapped his gaze forward, feeling his face flush.

"Cana… How many times do I have to tell you?" he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "You can't do things like this in my house."

"Relax," Cana replied, plopping down on the armrest of the couch without a care. "It's not like you haven't seen worse at the guild."

Damien pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "That's different, and you know it."

Over the past 13 years, Damien had become more social, eventually breaking free from the isolation he once lived in. He'd made friends, laughed, and even enjoyed his time at Fairy Tail.

But no matter how close he became to others, there was always a distance—a line he never let anyone cross.

Except for Cana.

Cana had always been different. She didn't care about boundaries, and if she did, she chose to ignore them entirely when it came to him. From the moment they met, she had pushed into his space, and over the years, she became someone who didn't hesitate to speak her mind or—apparently—use his shower whenever she pleased.

"Seriously, Cana," Damien grumbled, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "At least put some clothes on."

Cana stretched lazily, ignoring him. Her eyes lit up when they landed on the wine bottle sitting on the table.

"Ooooh, is that a new bottle?"

Before Damien could react, she leaned over the back of the couch, reaching for the bottle. Her towel shifted slightly as she pressed against his back.

Damien stiffened.

"Cana…"

"Relax," she said, her tone playful as she snagged the bottle. "It's just wine."

He exhaled sharply. "That's not what I'm talking about."

"You're too uptight," Cana teased, smirking. She took a swig straight from the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Seriously, Dami. You've been covering up for years. Don't you ever let loose?"

"I'm not someone like you who walks around half-dressed all the time," Damien retorted, standing up to avoid further contact.

Cana's eyes flicked to him, and for a brief moment, they lingered on his exposed torso. Her cheeks reddened, though she didn't look away.

"Well… that's a shame," she said, swirling the wine in the bottle. "You've been hiding all this under that jacket of yours?"

Damien felt his face heat up again as he quickly reached for his jacket, throwing it back on.

Cana laughed at his reaction. "Oh, come on. You didn't have to cover up that fast."

"Can you just… go home?" Damien muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Cana pouted dramatically. "Not until I finish this bottle. Drink with me first!"

He glanced at the half-empty bottle in her hand, knowing that arguing was pointless.

"One drink," Damien relented, sinking back onto the couch. "Then you go home."

Cana grinned in victory, sliding down beside him as she poured them both a glass.

"Deal."