Krampus POV
Laxus was still limp in my arms, head resting against me, breath slow and even in the deep sleep of exhaustion. His weight was solid and warm, and I held him as if he were the most precious treasure in the world, my arms tightening just slightly to keep him close. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the fading hum of the dungeon's magic, I could feel every beat of his heart against me—a steady, living proof of his triumph. Pride swelled in my chest, mingled with a fierce protectiveness. This boy, this stubborn, brilliant storm of a boy, had grown into someone who could tear through my dungeon, outthink every trap, and drop an S‑Class construct to its knees—and he was mine to guard.
I replayed his performance in my mind in vivid detail—the precision of his railguns, each one like a sniper's shot; the disciplined, efficient pacing of his magic that showed he'd learned to ration his strength; even the audacity of eating that lightning mid‑fight to refuel himself, turning an enemy's attack into his own lifeline. It had been everything I'd hoped for in him and more, the culmination of years of guidance and his own relentless drive. The moment he'd felled that artificial earth mage, pride had surged so fiercely I couldn't hold back—I teleported into the dungeon on the spot, eager to clasp his shoulder and tell him just how far he'd come. I hadn't expected him to crumple into unconsciousness the instant I arrived, the victory too fresh and the exhaustion too deep to keep his eyes open any longer.
A sliver of guilt crept in, settling heavy between the ribs. Maybe I'd gone a little too far with that S‑Class monster—its construction had been a challenge meant to push him, but perhaps I'd sharpened it too much. Ever since I'd tapped into Earthland's magical network, I'd been mixing and matching magics like a master chef obsessed with perfecting a new recipe—dissecting one, grafting part of it onto another, amplifying, diversifying, seeing how far the limits could stretch. All of it had been aimed at strengthening the guild, giving each mage more tools and sharper edges. Without that obsessive tinkering, there's no way Billy's bubble‑soap magic—practically a cousin to the harmless color‑changing magic—would have ever grown into such a surprisingly formidable force.
Creature‑creation magics had been my playground—a vast, dangerous toy chest I'd opened wide: golemancy, necromancy, homunculus craft, and a dozen other obscure disciplines. I'd pulled from each like an artisan selecting the finest materials, refining them until I could sculpt monsters with the precision of a jeweler setting gems. They allowed me to design every creature in this trial from the ground up, weaving in hidden safeguards to guarantee candidate safety while still tailoring each challenge to push them to their limits. For this run I had prepared three S‑Class monsters, each meticulously tuned to its opponent: the earth‑wielding juggernaut for Laxus, a relentless drying‑magic predator for Billy, and an aerial terror powered by air magic for Matthew… though Matthew's monster never saw daylight.
I shook off the thoughts, adjusting Laxus so I could carry him princess‑style, cradled in my arms as though the weight alone could shield him from the world. Instinctively, even unconscious, he shifted to rest his head more firmly against my chest, seeking the steady thump of my heart. For all his beard and bulk, like this he looked every bit a cute thirteen‑year‑old, a vulnerable side few ever saw, and I felt that old protectiveness surge like a tidal wave. I let my chin rest briefly atop his hair, savoring the moment before the world intruded again. With a flicker of magic, I brought us both back to the base of the tree, still holding him as though I might never want to let go.
I treated him first, layering a few focused healing spells to chase off the lingering strain and ease the knots of fatigue in his body. When I finally laid him down on a bed, the tension drained from his face, his breathing settling into a peaceful rhythm. Makarov was at my side in moments, the relief flooding his features when he saw Laxus safe giving way almost instantly to the deep, proud gleam of a mentor seeing his student surpass another milestone. I understood that look all too well. We lingered there for a while, trading a few quiet, almost reverent words about the boy—about his strength, his heart, and the promise of what he could become—both of us basking in the satisfaction of watching him grow into himself.
Then, with a faint smile, I turned and asked, "And what does the First Guildmaster think of this new generation of Fairy Tail?"
Mavis appeared out of thin air—technically correct, given her ghostly state. The First Master of Fairy Tail, Mavis Vermillion, had been hovering between life and death for decades. Her physical body lay sealed deep beneath the guild hall in a state of suspended preservation, while her spirit wandered freely. She chose to linger mostly on Tenrou Island, both to guard its sacred heart and to indulge in the occasional peek at the S‑Class trials held here.
Her translucent form drifted into focus like a dream taking shape, eyes bright with joy as she clasped her hands together. "Fairy Tail is growing so strong," she said, her voice brimming with warmth and pride. "Yuri's descendant… to reach such heights at thirteen—he's incredible. I'm so proud of him." She floated closer, her gaze sweeping slowly over the camp. Then her expression shifted, curiosity edging in. "But… why are they all so big? So… built?" Her brows drew together, and she tapped a finger against her chin, muttering to herself, "Permanent growth effects from prolonged magical exposure… muscle development far beyond standard training limits… this can't be just ordinary exercise."
A small pout tugged at her lips as she glanced back at me. "And if this kind of magical body enhancement has affected all members, then the girls must have grown explosively too… and I'm still…" Her gaze fell to her eternally petite frame, shoulders drooping with a mix of resignation and mild frustration. "I've been stuck like this for decades."
I chuckled and replied, "The tastes of men are endless. There are lolicons who would find you perfect. So love yourself more."
She blinked, clearly sensing there was something questionable in the compliment, her lips twitching as though she might challenge it, but in the end she let it pass with a faint sigh and a tiny shake of her head. Her expression softened almost immediately, curiosity and amusement replacing whatever fleeting doubt she'd felt. I could almost see the gears in her mind turning as she studied me more closely. She had heard of me for years through Makarov's rambling reports, but now, seeing me in person, she seemed to weigh me against those stories. Her eyes glimmered with a spark of delight as if ticking boxes: spirit of Christmas, which in her mind was close enough to be called fairy-adjacent—a huge plus in her book. Then, the recognition of my work, the magical innovations I had been pushing, made her gaze sharpen with respect. Finally, her expression softened into something like amusement, clearly taking in how unexpectedly down-to-earth I was, casual in tone, open-minded to a fault, and yes—unapologetically a little pervy.
It was, technically, our first meeting face‑to‑face, though we'd known of each other for years—Makarov's yearly reports delivered at her grave, my own… prior knowledge of her from both history and his stories. That familiarity made it easy for us to fall into conversation as though we were old acquaintances, trading comments on the guild's current crop of mages, the trials they'd faced, and the quirks of certain personalities.
When I eventually invited her to return to the guild with us, she gave a gentle smile but shook her head. "I can't. Someone has to watch over Tenrou," she said simply, her tone holding both duty and a trace of longing. I didn't press the matter—instead, I crafted her a Fairy Phone tuned for spiritual bodies, its magic calibrated so she could see and hear everything in the guildhall whenever she wished, a bridge between her post here and the family she'd built.
At that moment, Laxus stirred. I was at his side in a flash, Makarov close behind. I leaned in with a warm rumble, "Welcome to S‑Class, Laxus. You've earned it."
Makarov's eyes shone, his voice uncharacteristically steady as he added, "Laxus Dreyar… you've done it. You've climbed higher than most at an age when most are still learning their first serious spells. I'm proud of you, boy."
The boy's excitement lit the room like a bonfire. He jumped, laughed, and, in true thirteen‑year‑old fashion, threw his arms around me with unrestrained affection before scrambling up me like I was some oversized jungle gym. "S‑Class! I did it!" he shouted, laughing so hard it shook his shoulders. His massive frame made the sight almost comical, yet the warmth of his laughter and the way he clung to me with pure, unfiltered joy made it impossible not to smile back.
Even Makarov, standing right there, said nothing more aloud—though I caught the flicker in his eyes, that silent, knowing look of a grandfather weighing the bond between us. Whatever thoughts he had, he kept to himself, letting the moment belong to Laxus.
The commotion drew the others, who crowded in to offer their own congratulations. Gildarts rumbled a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kid, you're terrifying. You fought that thing like a veteran. Guess I'd better watch my back before you come for my title." Billy bounded forward, grin stretched wide despite the bruises still mottling his jaw. "I knew you'd smash it, Laxus! You made it look awesome, like lightning fireworks. Man, I wanna spar you someday!" Even Matthew, wrapped in bandages, managed a wry smile. "Tch… I guess I was too greedy. You did what I couldn't. Congrats, Laxus—you earned it." Their voices layered together with pride and admiration, filling the tent with warmth.
Soon Makarov called for attention, his voice cutting through the noise. "Alright, everyone, settle down," he said with that blend of authority and warmth only he could muster. "You've all done well, but today belongs to Laxus. He's proven himself worthy of the S‑Class title, and I couldn't be prouder. Now, let's pack up. Time to head home." His words brought a round of cheers and applause, the pride in the air thick enough to taste.
Once all was ready, I teleported the lot of us back to the guild. In the last instant before the world folded, I caught sight of Mavis watching from a distance. I gave her a silent goodbye, and she returned it with a small, knowing smile, her ghostly form glowing faintly in the twilight.
The return to the guild was nothing short of thunderous. One moment we were stepping through the teleportation array, the next the guildhall erupted in cheers as every mage surged forward to greet us. Warmth rolled over me in waves—claps on the back for the candidates, raucous laughter, and more than a few mugs of ale thrust into waiting hands. Tankards spilled, voices overlapped in a joyful chaos, and the whole hall seemed to quake beneath the stomping of boots and the pounding of fists on tables. Fairy Tail's heart was always at its loudest when welcoming its own home, and this time it felt like the walls themselves were celebrating right alongside us.
Makarov wasted no time. He hopped up onto a table, raising his arms high, his small frame commanding the hall with ease. "Listen up, brats!" he bellowed, his voice carrying over the raucous crowd. The noise dimmed, though the excitement remained a thrum beneath the silence. His grin was wide, his chest swelling with pride as his eyes swept the room. "Today, Fairy Tail welcomes a new S-Class mage into our ranks! Laxus Dreyar has done it—at just thirteen years old!"
The guildhall went wild. Shouts, whistles, tankards slamming against tables—the whole room turned into a festival in seconds. The boys crowded around Laxus, lifting mugs in toast and peppering him with questions. "What was it like?" one shouted over the noise. Another leaned in eagerly, "How tough were the monsters?" A third yelled, "Did you really fight Krampus head-on?" The circle of voices only grew louder, each trying to outdo the last in volume and excitement. Even Billy and Matthew got their share of attention—cheers, pats on the back, and boisterous welcomes as the guys pulled them in close, reminding them that win or lose, they were family. Laxus, high in spirit, laughed and toasted back, throwing an arm around Billy at one point and clinking mugs with Matthew at another, basking in the joy and warmth of being celebrated by his guild.
I let the noise swell for a while, waiting until every mug was raised and every laugh echoed off the rafters before I finally stepped forward. With a snap of my fingers, glowing Archive runes spun into the air, cascading outward until they formed a massive magical screen that stretched across the guildhall like a tapestry of light. The crowd hushed, expectant, eyes locked upward. "Highlights," I said simply, my voice carrying over the hall, letting the display speak for itself as the first flicker of images sparked into being.
The guild exploded again as the clips rolled. Laxus trading blows with me—every strike not only a clash of martial skill but carrying the raw, terrifying physical power of dozens of tons behind each punch—drew stunned silence, then a roar of excitement. The sight of our fists meeting and the ground fracturing beneath us left jaws slack. "That's not just magic, that's muscle!" one mage shouted, wide‑eyed. Another muttered, "Each hit looks like it could flatten a fortress…" Some of the men leaned forward, whispering as if they'd gained new insights into martial form just from watching, their eyes wide with both awe and hunger to learn. The final battle of Laxus against the earth construct sent the crowd into another frenzy, their cheers echoing against the rafters. "Look at him tank that—he's a monster himself!" someone yelled, while others bellowed in agreement, the sheer scale of his strength and endurance burned into their minds.
Billy's moments drew respect as well—his bubbles shielding the client, the way he bent his strange magic into something formidable. The guild roared with laughter and cheers at his stubborn bravery, some of the older mages even whistling in appreciation at how he'd weaponized something so unorthodox. "That kid's turning soap into steel," one shouted, raising a mug. Matthew's bout followed, showing him holding a monster horde at bay even with Gildarts blundering into the middle. The room murmured with admiration for his grit. "Takes guts to stand your ground like that," another said, nodding. The highlights carefully skipped their wipeouts—edited from the record to protect dignity—but everyone already knew who had passed and who had failed, and the respect in the guild's eyes didn't waver for either of them.
Not everything was shown. Certain… private moments of Laxus's test—like the way he'd cheekily used dirty grappling moves on me during our duel, or the fleeting instant when he stole a kiss to my cheek just before the match—remained carefully archived away, tucked into my personal collection, never meant for public eyes. Earthland's so‑called "thriving" adult industry was too crude, uneven, and starved of proper variety for my tastes—most of it in low‑grade magazines that felt laughably primitive compared to the world in the internet age where I came from. These recordings will be fully savored in my private time.
The guild didn't care about omissions. They were enthralled, leaning forward in their seats and pounding tables with excitement. The highlight reel had become more than entertainment—it was a living lesson, a vivid demonstration of what Fairy Tail mages could grow into if they pushed themselves. It was inspiration, fuel for every fiery heart in the hall. Exactly as Makarov and I had planned.
I turned back to the crowd once the cheering began to settle, raising my voice so every ear caught it. "This isn't just for fun. What you've seen today is what it means to walk the path toward S-Class. These trials aren't easy, and they're not meant to be. They exist to sharpen you, to tear away your limits, and to reveal what's possible if you pour everything into the work." My chibis popped into existence around me in a flash of light, beaming as they waved to the guild. "And starting today, I'm opening a new service through your Fairy Phones. Magical consultations—guidance, analysis, sparring theories, even training regimens—all handled by my chibi clones. Any member who wishes to improve their craft can now ask for help, any time, day or night."
Watching the roaring response, I felt something shift within me. The success of Billy and Matthew—two boys who hadn't even existed in the canon I once obsessed over—showed me that the future of Fairy Tail wasn't bound to the names I already knew. The guild was brimming with untapped potential, and my role was to draw it out. With my presence acting as the butterfly's wings, new faces had joined our ranks, each carrying sparks of greatness waiting to be fanned into flame. With the right guidance, I could mass produce A‑class mages, and perhaps even see S‑class bloom where no one expected it. All it would take was augmenting the ordinary magics most dismissed—turning trivial spells into weapons of legend. Billy's soap magic, once a parlor trick no better than color‑changing spells, now bore the might of bubble‑bubble and wash‑wash devil fruits from the world of One Piece, alongside unique twists of my own design. For now, I set my sights on revamping Requip, Pict, Gun, and Color Changing magics, laying the groundwork for Fairy Tail's next great leap forward.
The reaction was immediate. The guild erupted again, but this time with hungry excitement—voices overlapping, fists pumping, and mugs clashing together in a storm of determination. Who wouldn't want to grow stronger, to push their magic further? The proof stood right in front of them: Laxus, already S-Class at thirteen, shaped in part by my training, a living testament to what relentless growth could achieve. Even Billy and Matthew, though not yet there, had transformed from eager boys into formidable fighters, their new strength plain for everyone to see. The sight of their progress lit a fire in every mage's chest, the whole hall buzzing with ambition.
Makarov's smile was wide and proud as he watched the hall come alive with ambition. "This will raise the level of the whole guild," he murmured to me, low enough that only I could hear. I inclined my head in agreement, feeling the truth of it settle deep in my chest. The sight of Gray and Lyon leaping about, fired up with dreams of becoming just as strong, shouting things like "I'll be next, just watch!" and "No way, I'll outdo you first!" made the air crackle with youthful rivalry. Nearby, Ultear and Cana whispered with sharp determination, their voices carrying just enough for me to catch: "We need more women in S‑Class." "Then let's be the ones to change that." The spark in their eyes was unmistakable. All of it only proved the point beyond doubt.
Fairy Tail's heart burned brighter than ever, each cheer and clamor of ambition like fuel to a growing fire. And for the first time in a long while, I felt it blaze with the promise of an even greater tomorrow—one where this guild would rise higher, stronger, and louder than anything the world had ever seen.