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[Report. Your heart rate elevated by forty-two percent. Your internal magic levels experienced a sudden spike during the mention of your friend's daughter. Your conversational delivery was highly emotional and entirely inefficient.]
Solomon's voice echoed directly inside my head the second the pink flower petals finished clearing from my boots.
I stood in the dark, muddy alley right beside the tavern, leaning on the smooth wood of Odin's staff as I stretched my shoulders out.
I didn't lose my temper, I thought back, rolling my eyes. I was just catching up with an old friend.
[Negative. Trying to force your primordial runes onto a dragonified body right now would just cause her magic container to reject the spell and collapse entirely. Your logic regarding her condition was correct. Your attitude, however, was unnecessarily aggressive.]
Shut up, Solomon, I snapped internally, leaning against the wet brick wall. You don't understand human drama. Besides, she accused me of letting her rot for three centuries. A little shouting is standard protocol for a reunion like that.
[Observation. Humans prioritize emotional expression over mechanical efficiency. A highly flawed operating parameter. I will continue to monitor your erratic behavioral cycles.]
I let out a dry snort, shifting my staff onto my shoulder. Whatever. You're a buzzkill. Let's just go get a drink.
The front doors of the guildhall slammed open. The sheer noise of the tavern hit me like a punch to the jaw.
"More ale! Bring another barrel before the old man passes out!" Macao yelled, slamming his empty wooden mug hard against a table.
Right at the center bar counter, a full-blown drinking contest was underway. Master Makarov was sitting on top of a high stool. His white master's coat was thrown over the backrest, his bald head completely red as he chugged a massive wooden tankard. Sitting right across from him were three or four senior mages, already slumped face-first onto the wood, completely out cold.
"Is that all you brats have got?!" Makarov roared, slamming his empty mug down so hard the foam splashed across the counter. "I've been drinking since before your parents learned how to cast a basic spark!"
I strolled over, casually sliding onto a stool right next to his chaotic table. "Careful, old man. Keep chugging like that and I'll have to carry you upstairs by your mustache."
"Oh, shut it, Merlin!" Makarov barked, though he grabbed a fresh mug and shoved it straight toward my chest. "Grab a drink or get out of the way! We're celebrating a clean slate on the property damage bills this week!"
I caught the mug, taking a slow sip of the cold ale while the rest of the tavern kept cheering and throwing darts across the room. It was loud, stupid, and completely chaotic—the usual Fairy Tail afternoon.
But then, the side door near the infirmary creaked open.
Erza walked out into the tavern floor. She was moving slowly. Her boots dragged against the wood grain. Her face was pale, sweat matting her red bangs against her forehead, and her shoulders were stiff. The physical toll of forcing her magic into her own muscles all morning was completely draining her tiny ten-year-old container.
Makarov stopped his mug mid-air. His red face softened into a look of genuine pity as he watched her limp toward a far corner table. "That girl... she doesn't stop, does she? She's been grinding in the library and the backyard since sunrise. Hardest worker I've seen in years."
I took another long sip of my drink, my gold eyes locking onto her slumped posture. I didn't say anything. I just gave a slow, quiet nod. My mind drifted back to the freezing white marble palace in Alvarez and the desperate whisper that had cut through my teleportation warp.
Take care of my daughter, Merlin.
"Yeah," I muttered, setting the mug down with a soft thud. "She really is."
The quiet didn't change for a week. Every morning, Erza would drag her boots to the backyard, sweat through her rusted armor, and collapse at a table with a glass of juice.
Until the seventh day.
I was sitting by the bar counter, casually spinning an empty glass on my index finger, when a small shadow fell over the wood. I looked up. Erza was standing right in front of my stool. Her chest-plate was caked in fresh dirt, but her two brown eyes were locked onto mine with absolute, unwavering intensity.
"Master Merlin," Erza said, her voice completely steady. "I've learned it. The basic Body Enchantment magic."
I raised a single eyebrow, stopping the spinning glass with my palm. "Have you now? It's only been a week, little warrior."
"Test me," she stated, her jaw setting into a firm line.
I shrugged, hopping down from the stool and grabbing my staff. "Alright. Let's see if you're just talking big."
We walked straight out to the back courtyard. The dirt was dry today, the wooden fence blocking off the view of the main street. Erza stopped at the center of the clearing, sheathing her dented short sword and balling her small hands into tight fists.
I didn't say a word. I just gave the wrist holding Odin's staff a casual, lazy flick.
A sudden, sharp ripple tore through the air, and with a heavy, ground-shaking THUD, a massive, solid grey boulder the size of a carriage materialized out of nowhere, dropping right into the dirt in front of her boots.
"There," I said, leaning my chin on the gold top of my staff. "Don't use the sword. Focus the magic directly into your right knuckles. Balance the circuit inside your skin, then punch it."
Erza didn't hesitate. She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto the stone.
In the next second, she guided the energy internally, anchoring the raw pressure straight into her muscles and bones just like the formula dictated. Her footing shifted, her boot digging hard into the dirt.
"Hah!" Erza shouted, driving her fist straight forward.
BOOM!
The impact didn't make a metallic ring. It was a brutal, concussive explosion of physical force. The massive grey boulder violently shattered outward, cracking into hundreds of sharp pieces that rained down into the dirt around her knees.
Erza stumbled back a step, panting heavily. Her knuckles were slightly red but completely unbroken thanks to the magic reinforcement. She looked up at me, her chest heaving.
I gave a slow, approving nod, a small smirk returning to my face. "Good enough. Your internal alignment didn't shatter your own wrist. That means your control is officially steady enough to handle the real thing."
Erza's eyes widened slightly. "The real thing?"
"Requip magic," I said, tapping the cover of the old handbook still sitting on the wooden crate. "It's a specialized branch of spatial manipulation. Instead of casting a spell outward, you use your magic to slice open a miniature, private sub-dimension—a spatial pocket. Once the pocket is anchored to your mind, you can store your armor, your swords, or whatever gear you want inside the gap, and pull it out instantly in a split second. But remember, kid... keep practicing that Body Enchantment. If your physical container isn't strong enough to handle the sudden friction of swapping heavy armor mid-battle, the weight will slow your reflexes down to a crawl."
Erza touched her chest plate, nodding hard. "I understand."
"Alright, look alive, brats! We've got a new recruit on the board!"
We walked back inside the main building, heading straight toward the large wooden mission counter near the back wall. Cana was sitting on top of the counter, drinking a small box of juice, while old Master Makarov was shuffling through a massive stack of flyer papers.
Makarov looked up, his thick eyebrows raising as he saw Erza trailing behind my white coat. "Well? How did the yard test go?"
"She broke the rock," I said casually, leaning against the counter rail. "She's ready."
Makarov smiled, pulling three separate, slightly crumpled fliers out from the bottom of his stack and laying them out in front of Erza's face.
"Listen up, kiddo," Makarov said, his deep voice becoming informative. "In the wizarding world, this is the mission board. This is how we earn our jewels to pay for food, rent, and all that extra armor you like to wear. Since your control is stable, you're officially cleared to start taking basic D-rank and C-rank requests. Finding lost pets, helping the local merchants move cargo, or clearing out low-level pests in the outer valleys."
Erza looked at the papers, her left eye scanning the written requests with absolute, serious focus. She gave a firm, determined nod. "I will do my best, Master."
I reached over, my fingers lazily sliding across the counter to pick up a simple, straightforward D-rank flier from the pile—a request to help the Magnolia library sort and carry a new shipment of heavy history books from the capital.
I shoved the paper straight into her small, dirty hand and roughly ruffled her messy scarlet hair with a chuckle.
"Here. Start with this one, tiny knight," I smirked, throwing my staff back over my shoulder as I turned toward the tavern doors. "It's mostly just heavy lifting, so you can practice that Body Enchantment while you work. Good luck on your first run."
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[ If you want to read an extra chapter ahead, go check out the p@treon
Search for foresight_geek or https://[email protected]/c/foresight_geek,
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