Chaos Maker: The Wanderer

Troy sipped his tea before beginning his story about the two queens and how John ended up being summoned by them.

"I think you have some idea of the queens' appearance, am I right?" Troy asked, setting his cup down.

"Nope. Do you think someone living in a forest knows anything about the outside world? That's wishful thinking," John replied, sipping his chocolate milk.

Troy's eye twitched at John's response. Is this guy pretending, or does he genuinely not know?

In all his years living in this country, this was the first time he had encountered someone so utterly clueless about their rulers.

"Allow me to enlighten you, then."

Troy reached into his coat and placed a small, glowing object on the wooden table—a projection lacrima.

A Projection Lacrima functioned much like a holographic device, except it was powered by magic rather than technology. It was a magic crystal engraved with specialized runes, transforming it into a magical tool.

These crystals naturally formed in areas with high magical density, such as deep forests, ocean depths, mountaintops, vast underground caverns, the heart of deserts, and other extreme environments. Due to their rarity and the dangers associated with harvesting them, Projection Lacrima were considered highly valuable depending on where they were obtained and their quality.

As the device activated, a vivid image of two stunningly beautiful women with long, crimson hair appeared before John's eyes. The moment he saw them, recognition struck him.

"So that's why this country sounded familiar," John mused.

"These two lovely ladies are the queens of this kingdom. The one wearing a witch's hat, with her hair styled in braids, is Her Majesty Irene Belserion, known as the 'Great Sage.' The woman beside her, clad in armor, is her twin sister, Erza Belserion, known as the 'Sword Saint.' Together, they are the 'Twin Scarlets of Despair.' Whenever they set foot on the battlefield, destruction follows—for both humans and dragons alike."

"Yep. This is not the Fairy Tail world I knew."

In the original work, Irene was Erza's mother and the creator of Dragon Slayer Magic. But in this timeline, Erza was her twin sister, and together, they bore the title of "Scarlets of Despair"—a title Irene alone had once held while serving the Alvarez Empire 400 years from now.

Their appearances closely resembled their Alvarez arc versions. Irene wore her seductive, witch-like outfit, while Erza donned her signature armor and skirt combo.

"Great Sage and Sword Saint? If they have titles like that, they must be even stronger than in the original story. Heck, they probably have the strength to fight a Dragon King at the very least."

"Impressive. How did they earn those titles?" John asked.

Troy thought for a moment before answering. "Lady Irene earned her title by wiping out thousands of dragons with a single spell. As for Lady Erza, she earned hers by fighting two Dragon Kings simultaneously and managing to kill one while surviving the battle."

"So they're that strong, huh?" John remarked.

"Yeah. I'd say they are, but after seeing your strength, I'd call them average at best," Troy replied.

"Hey, don't say that. Are you even qualified to make that judgment?" John shot back.

"Don't underestimate my discerning eye, kid. I may be just a humble blacksmith, but I can still gauge someone's strength," Troy said, clearly irritated.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just get back to the topic," John said, waving him off.

Troy snorted but continued. "Do you remember the swords I commissioned from you?"

"Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"Well, two of the swords have already chosen their masters from the village, but…"

John raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"There was one left… and I sold it," Troy admitted.

John stared at him blankly.

Troy coughed awkwardly. "I had no choice. A drought struck the village, and we needed funds to recover."

John smacked his forehead. "At least tell me before selling it! So, what did you sell?"

"Fallen," Troy admitted.

John slammed his head onto the table.

"Don't worry, it was just a sword. Besides, it was useless to us—just gathering dust in the corner of my house. Leaving it there would've been a waste," Troy reasoned.

John let out a heavy sigh. "Do you even realize that you sold an Anti-Continent Magic Sword?"

"Huh?" Troy looked at John, dumbfounded.

Years ago, Troy had commissioned three swords from John to serve as the village's trump cards: Rebel, Cross, and Fallen.

Troy had personally witnessed the strength of Rebel and Cross when they chose their masters, categorizing them as Anti-Country Magic Swords. But because Fallen had never found a master, Troy had assumed it was of similar strength.

He assumed wrong.

Meanwhile, in a Border Village.

In a peaceful village nestled between vast grasslands and deep forests, two crimson-haired women sat at a wooden table, sipping tea as they waited for someone—a gentle breeze passed by, rustling their long, silky locks, which shimmered under the sunlight.

One of the women exuded an aura of unshakable grace and dominance—like a queen surveying her domain. Her scarlet hair cascaded down her back in four intricately braided strands—two flowing behind her, two draped in front. Her golden eyes burned with an unreadable, ancient wisdom. A smirk played on her lips, both regal and seductive.

She was draped in a black and silver ensemble that blended elegance with sheer intimidation. Her outfit, which bared her toned midriff, was adorned with gold accents and intricate patterns—a fusion of dark sorcery and royal refinement. A flowing cape trailed behind her, its inner lining a shimmering silver. Long, black gloves reached past her elbows, and thigh-high stockings paired with heeled boots gave her the poise of a queen prepared for both war and conquest.

Beside her stood a grand staff, its forked golden design resembling the claw of a beast—a silent testament to her overwhelming power. Her presence is an exquisite balance of grace and destruction. She was Irene Belserion.

Opposite her sat a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance—her twin sister. But where Irene radiated arcane supremacy, this woman was the embodiment of raw martial strength.

She carried herself with unshakable confidence, her piercing gaze sharp with determination. Her long, scarlet hair cascaded past her shoulders, framing her face with fierce yet graceful intensity.

She wore a gleaming silver breastplate, intricately designed for both protection and style. Armored gauntlets covered her hands, while sturdy boots and shoulder plates added to her imposing presence. A flowing dark cape, trimmed in gold, trailed behind her. She paired this armor with a navy-blue skirt, completing her ensemble with a perfect balance of might and refinement. She was Erza Belserion.

In this world, Erza was not Irene's daughter—but her twin sister. Together, they were like goddesses of beauty who had descended upon this world.

As the two women sipped their tea, the peaceful silence was only interrupted by the occasional chirping of birds.

Erza's sharp gaze landed on the black sword resting on the table, its familiar engraving catching her eye.

"?" she gave a knowing smile.

Irene's lips curled into a seductive smile. "It's him."

A knowing silence fell between them as they waited for the one who had forged such a blade.