57-59

Chapter 57: "Fighting Is So Much Fun!"  

The crimson gauntlet vanished in a swirl of dissipating mana, its overwhelming power receding like a tide.  

The berserk sensation faded with it.  

"Hah… hah…"  

Rayne panted heavily, sweat already beading across his bare torso, glistening under the sunlight.  

Double Boost had drained him far more than before—not just physically, but mentally. The curse couldn’t erode his will, but the strain was undeniable.  

"Guild Master… Is Laxus okay?"  

After steadying his breathing, Rayne approached Makarov. He’d held back at the last moment, but controlling amplified strength was still a work in progress.  

"Thanks to your restraint, just a few fractures and mana exhaustion. He’ll recover."  

Makarov shook his head, though his eyes lingered on Rayne with quiet scrutiny.  

Back when he’d trained Rayne in the Eastern Forest, he’d known the boy had a wild streak.  

But this?  

Tearing through spells with brute force?  

The kid he’d thought was level-headed fought like a beast.  

"What’s wrong?"  

Under Makarov’s stare, Rayne twisted uncomfortably, checking himself for imaginary flaws.  

"Rayne."  

Kanade’s flat voice cut through the tension.  

Both turned to see the tiny dragon girl toddling toward them, dragging a greatsword taller than herself. The guild members behind her wore identical "what the hell?" expressions.  

"Here."  

She thrust the sword at Rayne, tilting her head up with blank eyes—but her wagging tail and tiptoed stance screamed Praise me now.  

"Thanks, Kanade."  

Rayne smiled warmly, resting the blade against his shoulder before ruffling her hair. She leaned into the touch, still on her toes.  

"…Rayne?"  

A hesitant voice called out.  

Carolyn—and the rest of the guild—stared at him like he’d grown a second head.  

"What’s up with you all?"  

Rayne blinked.  

"It’s just… You’re different in a fight," Carolyn admitted, exhaling in relief when his usual demeanor returned.  

Nods all around.  

The boy who’d just brawled like a feral dragon bore zero resemblance to the harmless kid they knew.  

Then their eyes landed on the greatsword beside him.  

Ah.  

That explained the weapon choice.  

"Well, fighting’s just fun, y’know?"  

Rayne grinned, bright and unrepentant.  

His bloodied left fist. The monstrous sword. His sweat-slicked, battle-marked torso.  

The contrast with his boyish face was jarring.  

"STOP SAYING THAT WITH A FACE LIKE A PUPPY'S!!"  

The guild’s collective mental scream nearly materialized.  

"Enough. Let’s head back."  

Makarov stifled his own urge to facepalm.  

Laxus needed rest.  

So did Rayne.  

No point lingering.  

"Yeah, yeah! Drinks on the losers!"  

Macao hoisted Laxus onto his back, leading the march back to town.  

"Hell of a show. Worth the bet money." 

"Both those kids are monsters." 

"Well, Laxus is the Master’s grandson—" 

"Nah. Talent’s nothing without work. Kid earned it." 

"…True." 

"Told you Rayne fights like a rabid wolf," Wakaba muttered, smug.  

As the first to witness Rayne’s combat style, he felt oddly superior.  

"Speaking of bets… You all backed Laxus, right?"  

Macao’s grin was merciless.  

"Worth every jewel!" Bigetta declared. 

"Tonight’s on us!" 

"Drinks till dawn!"  

The guild roared in approval.  

"Rayne."  

Makarov fell into step beside him, voice low.  

"That artifact… There’s a cost, isn’t there?"  

Doubling—no, exponentially increasing—power?  

Nothing that potent came free.  

Even Gildarts, walking nearby, glanced over, waiting for the answer.  

"There is. But I can handle it."  

No hesitation.  

The grudges woven into the Boosted Gear were vicious, but Rayne didn’t care.  

He wasn’t arrogant.  

Just certain.  

The dead had lost. Their whispers meant nothing.  

Still, he’d silence them eventually—not out of fear, but annoyance.  

Just… not yet.  

The "sea" of resentment was beyond his current reach.  

"If you’re confident."  

Makarov exchanged a look with Gildarts before smiling.  

His job wasn’t to doubt, but to support when needed.  

"I’ll help too!"  

Kanade raised a tiny fist.  

Rayne laughed.  

"Of course. We’re partners, after all."  

As the rowdy guild disappeared down the road, a town elder sighed, amused.  

"This generation of Fairy Tail… They’re going to be loud."  

Chapter 58: The Fairy in Makarov's Eyes  

As Makarov had predicted, Laxus’s unconsciousness didn’t last long.  

He woke up almost immediately after being carried into the guild.  

"Put me down—now!"  

The moment he realized he was being piggybacked, Laxus’s face burned with humiliation.  

Ever since that incident, he’d sworn to stand as the guild’s strongest. Yet here he was—defeated and hauled back like luggage.  

"Seriously, kid? You wake up the second we get here?" Wakaba grumbled, dropping him unceremoniously. "Sure you weren’t faking it?"  

Laxus’s legs buckled on impact, forcing him to brace against a table. Though conscious, his magic and stamina were far from recovered.  

"I don’t do petty," Laxus shot back, eyes darting across the guildhall.  

No jeers. No mockery.  

After years of preaching "only the strong belong," he’d been crushed by someone he’d once dismissed as weak. He’d braced for scorn—for whispers about unworthy heirs and wasted potential.  

Yet…  

The guild’s atmosphere remained unchanged.  

Their expressions held neither pity nor gloating—just the usual raucous indifference.  

And Laxus, hypersensitive to tone since that day, knew it wasn’t an act.  

The realization left him torn—relieved, yet inexplicably hollow.  

Weakened and emotionally raw, he couldn’t even guess what face he was making.  

"That puppy-eyed look won’t get you out of paying the 100,000J," came a familiar, grating voice.  

"I’m not puppy-eyed!" Laxus snarled, whipping his head up to glare at Rayne.  

Only then did he notice—this table held just three people: himself, Rayne, and that ever-present white-haired shadow.  

The rest of the guild had deliberately drifted away, drowning themselves in ale and exaggerated laughter.  

Somehow, the distance eased the tension in his chest.  

"Tch. 100,000J’s nothing. Like I’d care," Laxus scoffed, tilting his chin up.  

"Mhm. So… money when?" Rayne deadpanned, rolling his eyes.  

So much for comforting him.  

"I’ll get it later," Laxus muttered. He hadn’t exactly brought a wallet to a brawl.  

Rayne’s smirk returned, already mentally stacking imaginary jewels.  

The Aftermath:  

"I lost this time. But don’t think it’s over!" Laxus’s fists clenched, knuckles whitening. "Next time—"  

"Next time, you’ll lose harder," Rayne interrupted, confidence blazing like sunlight. "I told you—your only chance was that first night."  

"From here on out? You’ll never catch up. All you can do… is pray to keep my dust in sight."  

For a heartbeat, Laxus flinched.  

The words hit like a hammer—not as trash talk, but as fact. Rayne’s certainty was absolute, unshakable.  

It rattled something deep in Laxus’s pride.  

Guildside Whispers:  

"Whoa. Harsh much?"  

"Think we should step in? Kid might break at this rate…"  

"If someone said that to me, I’d cry into my ale."  

"Boss? Shouldn’t you—?"  

Makarov shook his head, nursing his drink. "Rayne knows what he’s doing."  

The words sounded cruel—but Makarov knew his grandson.  

Laxus Dreyar didn’t break.  

He burned.  

Laxus’s Resolve:  

Pain bit into Laxus’s palms—old scabs splitting under tightened fists.  

The sting fanned the embers in his chest.  

**"And I told you—"** His voice dropped, low and fierce. "I’m Laxus."  

Golden eyes locked onto Rayne’s, unyielding.  

"Remember that name. It’ll be the one breaking your record someday."  

Ripple Effect:  

Somewhere in the guild, tankards paused mid-air.  

"…Are we really gonna let these brutes outshine us?" Wakaba muttered.  

"Kinda embarrassing if they do," Macao admitted, scratching his head.  

"Might be time to dust off the ol’ spellbooks," another mumbled.  

Gildars, eavesdropping from the bar, smirked into his drink.  

Interesting.  

Years of stagnant power ceilings had dulled their edges. But now?  

The guild’s "washed-up" veterans were stirring—rekindled by two kids too stubborn to quit.  

Makarov’s grin widened behind his mug.  

This was Fairy Tail.  

Not a cage for obedient soldiers—but a home for dreamers chasing that elusive fairy’s tail.  

For those who’d stumble, bleed, and rise again—always forward.  

Chapter 59: Journey to the North  

Late X773  

Pale snowflakes drifted from the sky, blanketing the endless mountain ranges in a pristine winter veil.  

"Woo—"  

The magitek train bound for the northern reaches of Fiore cut through the white expanse like a black iron dragon. Snowflakes scattered in its wake, diverted by the rushing currents.  

In one of the rear carriages, a small face pressed against the window.  

Azure eyes silently observed the snowy world outside as a slender tail flicked restlessly behind her—betraying the excitement her expressionless face concealed.  

The swishing tail tickled Rayne’s leg, prompting him to reach out and gently pin it down.  

"If you like it that much, we can play in the snow after finishing the job. How’s that sound?" Leaning back in his seat, Rayne offered with a chuckle.  

"I want to build a snowman! And have a snowball fight!"  

Kanna turned away from the window, her tone flat but her eyes gleaming with unmistakable anticipation.  

"Snowball fights, huh?..." Rayne mused, recalling scenes from the original story. "I’ve seen people make snow huts before. Want to try that instead?"  

No way in hell am I having a snowball fight with a dragon.  

Four months had passed since his battle with Laxus.  

Though his physique and magic had grown exponentially through relentless training, facing a pureblood dragon in a "playful" snowball fight would still leave him coughing up blood—if not worse.  

"I want to sleep inside it!"  

Kanna’s tiny hands shot up, stars practically dancing in her eyes.  

"Sure, if that’s what you want."  

Rayne didn’t bother dissuading her. Despite her childlike appearance, Kanna was still a dragon—this level of cold meant nothing to her.  

"Mission... finish fast!"  

Now properly motivated, Kanna clenched her fists with rare enthusiasm.  

Had their target been present, Rayne had no doubt she’d blast them with a breath attack on the spot.  

"I know, I know. The request already gave us their info. We’ll head straight there."  

Pulling out the job flyer from his coat, Rayne skimmed the details again.  

URGENT REQUEST: Annihilate the Dark Guild [Toymaker’s Workshop] 

Rank: B 

Client: Mayor of Northpeak Town & Allied Villages 

Reward: 180,000J  

【Details】 

Over the past month, Northpeak Town and surrounding villages have suffered a string of child abductions. The children vanish silently in the dead of night, leaving no signs of struggle or forced entry.  

Initial investigations point to the dark guild [Toymaker’s Workshop], reportedly operating near Mount Brago. The guild is rumored to employ cruel, esoteric methods. We seek powerful mages to eradicate this threat, rescue any surviving captives, and restore peace to our homes.  

【Warning】 

Targets may possess puppet-based or mind-control magic. Exercise extreme caution.  

After four months of steady growth and completed requests, Makarov had finally permitted Rayne to take on B-rank jobs—a tier reserved for threats endangering entire towns.  

The fact that this dark guild qualified spoke volumes about their danger.  

"Mount Brago, huh..."  

Rayne’s gaze lingered on the location, his mind racing.  

This is the northern region where Gray was originally from.  

But without knowing the exact town or timeline, even if he warned Makarov about Deliora’s impending revival—the demon that would annihilate a settlement—what could they do?  

Scour every village in the north?  

"Why would Deliora’s seal break now?"  

Tucking the flyer away, Rayne crossed his arms, fingertips drumming against his sleeves.  

For a sealed demon to coincidentally awaken at the perfect moment was... unlikely.  

Which meant someone was orchestrating it.  

As for why?  

Dark guilds needed no reason to massacre innocents.  

But without leads on where or when they’d strike, speculation was pointless.  

Then another thought struck him.  

"Wasn’t Brain from the Oración Seis acting as a research director here?"  

The future leader of one of Fiore’s most notorious dark guilds, Brain had infiltrated a northern magic institute—experimenting on children to further his goals.  

"I’m still not strong enough to face Brain head-on."  

Despite his progress, challenging an A or S-rank mage was suicide.  

But—  

"Wait. Ur is in the north too. And Urtear’s one of his victims."  

Rayne’s eyes sharpened.  

Ur, the Ice-Make mage, possessed strength worthy of the Ten Wizard Saints.  

But after surrendering her daughter to the institute in desperation—only to be told she’d died—Ur had withdrawn from the world.  

A lie.  

Urtear hadn’t died. Her innate magic power had simply been too unstable... until Brain "stabilized" her.  

Of course, he’d never let such a valuable asset go.  

Even if she didn’t fit his criteria, she was perfect for trading to other dark guilds.  

Hence the deception.  

"But will Ur believe me if I tell her outright?"  

Rayne grimaced.  

Ur’s love for her daughter would make her cling to any hope—if she’d already accepted Urtear’s "death."  

But if she still believed the institute was treating her...  

"After the job, we’ll find Ur first. If she won’t help..."  

His fingers curled into fists.  

"Then Kanna and I will handle the institute ourselves."  

Turning a blind eye wasn’t an option anymore.  

Not when he had the power to change things.