Rowan had anticipated the fire spell.
The moment the flames surged toward him, he beat his wings hard and shot straight upward, slipping cleanly out of the fire cyclone's reach. The maneuver saved him from the attack, but it also forced him to abandon precise control over the airborne blades.
That was fine.
He still had a backup.
"Get them."
At his command, the dozens of venomous snakes that had been crawling unseen through the grass suddenly sprang forward, launching themselves at the two remaining dark mages.
The close-combat mage reacted instantly. His twin blades flashed, slicing every snake that came near him into pieces.
The fire mage wasn't so lucky.
Although he redirected the fire cyclone to incinerate most of the snakes, one still slipped through and sank its fangs into his leg. Paralysis spread almost immediately.
Rowan dove.
He closed the distance in a heartbeat, using controlled blades to bind the swordsman's movement just long enough. At the same time, his claws snapped free, razor-sharp and reinforced by strength drawn from his other bodies.
He tore across the fire mage's throat in a single pass.
The body collapsed without a sound.
This form might be small, but it wasn't weak. The cat's body carried not only its own natural strength but also the physical reinforcement shared across Rowan's incarnations. Combined with a high-speed aerial dive, killing a distracted target was effortless.
"You little bastard!"
The swordsman roared, rage exploding across his face. His blades accelerated, shredding the bound leaves back into fragments of wood as he charged after Rowan.
Rowan didn't climb higher.
Instead, he kept flying forward, just fast enough to stay out of reach, just slow enough to offer hope. The swordsman followed relentlessly, convinced he could still catch and kill him.
While flying, Rowan's claws moved in precise, practiced motions. His lips murmured quietly.
A spell was forming.
"Trap—"
The swordsman's warning came too late.
His calf struck something invisible. He twisted instinctively into a forward roll, barely avoiding being severed outright, but blood spilled freely from a deep gash.
A wire.
Rowan had placed it deliberately.
Before the swordsman could recover, Rowan was already there.
"Stupefy."
Blue light slammed into the man's forehead at point-blank range. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.
Rowan landed lightly.
"For disposable thugs, that was more trouble than expected," he muttered.
He took control of the fallen mage's sword and ended it cleanly.
Afterward, Rowan gathered everything of value from the three bodies, packing it away before resuming his journey toward Fairy Tail.
Unlike Aureo, he wasn't chasing answers about his species.
He was chasing strength.
During the fight, Rowan had realized something important. Magic in this world was fast. Immediate. No wands. No external focus. Spells flowed directly from the body, perfectly suited for combat.
If he could master magic from this world, then even without a wand in the Marvel universe, he'd still have reliable tools for battle.
The next day, a city came into view.
"That must be Magnolia."
Aureo hadn't been far from the city before his death, and with sustained flight, Rowan arrived in less than a day.
"First things first," Rowan muttered. "Sell this junk and get some food."
He folded his wings and descended into the city, a small bundle slung over his back.
The bundle itself was unremarkable in appearance.
Its contents were not.
The bag held everything the three dark mages had owned, thanks to an Extension Charm woven into its interior. It expanded internal space without altering the exterior, a high-level spell with a steep learning curve.
Even after weeks of study and guidance from multiple professors, Rowan could only manage an internal volume of just under two cubic meters. It was nowhere near the sophistication of Newt Scamander's suitcase, which housed an entire ecosystem.
Still, it was more than enough.
After circling the city briefly, Rowan spotted a shop marked with a familiar magical insignia.
"Welcome—"
The old shopkeeper greeted the door automatically, then froze when the bell rang and no customer appeared.
"I'm down here."
Rowan fluttered up and landed on the counter.
The shopkeeper blinked once. Then smiled.
"A talking cat. And a flying one, at that. What can I do for you?"
Rowan's size barely exceeded a human palm, but he stood upright, wings folded neatly at his back.
"I'm selling," Rowan said, tipping the bag.
The contents spilled across the counter.
The shopkeeper raised a monocle-like device etched with a glowing sigil and examined each item carefully.
"Two low-grade magic swords with acceleration enchantments. Fifteen hundred J each.A fire-enhancement ring. One thousand J.A wind-binding circlet. Twelve hundred J."
After a moment, the old man smiled warmly.
"Ten thousand J for everything."
Rowan's tail flicked sharply.
"Ten thousand?" He gestured toward a nearby display. "You're selling that same wind circlet for six thousand."
The shopkeeper didn't drop his smile.
"Market's bad. Twelve thousand, final offer."
Then his gaze shifted to the bag.
"But if you're willing to sell that," he added lightly, "I'll pay one hundred fifty thousand."
That changed things.
The other items were low-tier gear. Disposable. The bag was different. Space-storage magic items were rare, expensive, and always in demand. Even at that price, the shopkeeper could easily double his investment.
Nobles wanted them. Merchants fought over them. Anyone without spatial affinity had no other option.
Rowan said nothing.
He only smiled.