Chapter 258: Seven Years of Change
"Hey, weren't we supposed to solve this with negotiations?"
Listening to the non-stop screams of the Twilight Ogre members echoing from inside the dilapidated building, Wakaba Mine couldn't help but complain, taking a drag from his pipe. The sounds of breaking furniture and pleading men were music to their ears, yet slightly terrifying.
"As expected, there's just no comparison!"
Macao Conbolt sighed at the sight, a mixture of relief and vindication washing over him. For seven years, he had been forced to bow his head, to cower before the thugs of Twilight Ogre, swallowing his pride to keep the family alive. But the moment the Third Master—Makarov Dreyar—returned, accompanied by Erza and Mirajane, the dynamic shifted instantly. They marched straight in, and now, they were beating them black and blue, paying back every insult, every debt, and every grudge they had suffered over the long, agonizing years.
"Still, seeing it now, it really feels like we're back seven years ago."
"So nostalgic!"
Seven years back, they had been this lawless, charging at anything that rubbed them the wrong way. Forget a small, third-rate guild like Twilight Ogre—even a major superpower like Phantom Lord hadn't scared them.
Seven years had dulled their edges and robbed them of their old courage. But today, the fire was lit once more.
[Location: Magic Council Headquarters – Era]
The pristine white hallways of the Magic Council were cold and sterile, a stark contrast to the chaotic warmth of the guild world.
"Elder Org, thank you for your hard work today."
Lahar, the Captain of the Custody Enforcement Unit, adjusted his glasses as he greeted the elderly councilor. His expression was stoic, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes.
Org stopped, tapping his cane against the marble floor. He looked weary. "Mm. You've all heard, I take it?"
"You mean the return of Fairy Tail's core members? Then the burden on your heart can finally lift, Doranbolt."
Lahar glanced to his side, addressing the man who had been silent for the entire walk.
Mest Gryder—formerly known as Doranbolt during his infiltration mission—stayed silent. His fists were clenched at his sides, trembling slightly. The news of the Tenrou Group's survival was a miracle that defied logic, a blessing from the stars themselves. The return of Fairy Tail's core did ease his mind; though he'd had no power to help back then, leaving them to face the Black Dragon Acnologia alone, the weight of his helplessness had nearly crushed him.
He closed his eyes, an image of a small, blue-haired girl flashing in his mind. Wendy. Just a little girl, dragged into a nightmare because of his mission. The guilt of failing to rescue a single soul, of teleporting away while children faced a Dragon, had haunted him for seven years.
"The magic world will probably stir again," Org mused, looking out the high windows toward the distant mountains. "Seven years ago, Acnologia and the Black Wizard Zeref were discovered on that island. But sadly, we still don't know where they are. They vanished like smoke. Our recon squads will need more manpower. These seven years have been far too calm."
"It is strange," Lahar agreed. "The Balam Alliance... Oración Seis and Grimoire Heart have been crushed by Fairy Tail's actions. Yet the last gate, the Netherworld Gate—Tartaros—remains so secretive it's shown no suspicious movement at all."
"But such stillness is eerie—like an endless night before a storm," Org muttered. "Perhaps dawn is about to break? Will it become a magnificent sunrise for the magic world, or a scorching heat that burns us all?"
Mest finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "You mean… Fairy Tail?"
"Mwahaha! I claim to hate Fairy Tail, yet here I am thinking of them. I must be getting old!"
With that, Org walked off, his laughter echoing down the corridor. As a two-term Council Member, he knew better than anyone how much Fairy Tail had done to keep the magic world at peace. They were troublemakers, yes. They destroyed public property, ignored orders, and caused headaches that required mountains of paperwork.
But without them, Oración Seis would have unleashed Nirvana. Grimoire Heart would have seized the origin of magic. Fairy Tail was the necessary chaos that kept the darkness at bay.
Org used to loathe Fairy Tail for the endless trouble they caused, yet now that the trouble was gone, he almost missed it.
[Location: Magnolia – Fairy Tail Guild (Temporary Base)]
Two weeks slipped by, and the news of Fairy Tail's core members' return hit the papers like a bomb. The headlines screamed of the miracle at Tenrou Island. As once the strongest Mage Guild in Fiore, the name still carried some weight, drawing curiosity from across the continent.
Weekly Sorcerer magazine even came for an exclusive interview. Jason, the excitable reporter, had nearly fainted from hyperventilation upon seeing Natsu and the others alive. However, the impact was limited.
The world had moved on. The generation that idolized Salamander and Titania had grown up. To many, especially the newer mages, Fairy Tail was now a flower of yesterday—a legend past its prime.
Inside the small, run-down tavern that served as their temporary guildhall, the atmosphere was a mix of celebration and harsh reality.
"Sabertooth?"
"Exactly! Sabertooth. While you were gone these seven years, Sabertooth became Fiore's strongest Mage Guild."
Romeo Conbolt, now a teenager, explained the current geopolitical landscape to the returnees.
Gray Fullbuster frowned, leaning against a wooden pillar. He crossed his arms, racking his brain. "Never heard of them."
"Neither have I," Erza Scarlet added, sipping her tea. "Were they a merchant guild?"
Alzack Connell shook his head, placing a hand on his daughter Asuka's head. "They were nothing special seven years ago. A mid-tier guild at best. But their new Master, Jiemma, revolutionized the place. He recruited five powerhouse Mages and shot straight to the top. They're ruthless."
"Five people?" Lucy Heartfilia was stunned, her eyes wide. "Just five people made that big a difference in the rankings?"
"Ooh, I like where this is going." Natsu Dragneel grinned, smashing his fist into his palm. Flames leaked from his mouth. "Strong guys, huh? I wanna fight 'em!"
Ren sat quietly in the corner, observing the exchange. He swirled the drink in his glass, his expression calm.
'Sabertooth,' Ren thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. 'Sting Eucliffe and Rogue Cheney... the Twin Dragons. And of course, Minerva. It makes sense. In the original timeline, they dominated the Grand Magic Games. While we were frozen in time, the world kept spinning.'
Ren glanced at his own status window briefly. Even with the seven-year gap, his power hadn't diminished. If anything, the pause had allowed his magical reserves to settle. But for the others...
"Then what rank is our guild now?" Wendy Marvell asked curiously, tilting her head. Her innocent question cut through the noise like a knife.
The cheerful atmosphere instantly died.
Macao, Wakaba, and the other members who had stayed behind looked away, shame coloring their faces.
Happy the Exceed winced, hovering nervously. "Wendy... you really wanna know?"
One look at the guild's miserable state told the story. The peeling paint, the small space, the lack of requests on the board.
"Dead last, of course."
Romeo said it softly, but the words hit hard.
"The weakest guild in Fiore."
Silence reigned for a solid three seconds.
"Eh?!" Wendy turned pale, realizing her blunder. She waved her hands frantically. "Ahhh, I'm sorry I asked! I didn't mean to rub salt in the wound!"
"Bahahaha!! Perfect!! Isn't this hilarious!!"
Suddenly, a boisterous laugh shattered the tension. Natsu leapt onto a table in excitement, striking a pose with fire erupting from his shoulders.
"Huh? What's so fun about that?" Gray looked totally lost, staring at the Fire Dragon Slayer as if he were insane. "We're at the bottom, ash-brain."
"Starting from the weakest and clawing our way to the top—how is that not awesome? It's like a new adventure! I'm fired up!!" Natsu roared, his enthusiasm infectious.
Ren couldn't help but smile. That was Natsu. The lower they were, the higher he wanted to climb.
Max Alors—formerly the skinny broom-headed kid, now a taller, slightly more rugged man—sighed, adjusting his gloves. "It's not that easy, Natsu-san! Leaving monsters like Laxus, Gildarts, and Ren aside... the rest of us lost seven whole years. A lot changes in seven. The magic density in the atmosphere has shifted, and the standard for Mages has risen."
Natsu's eyes lit up, ignoring the warning completely. He jumped down from the table, landing right in front of Max. "Great! Then let's fight and see how strong everyone is now. Come on, Max! Show me what you've got!"
"Bring it on!" Max smirked, a confident glint in his eyes that hadn't been there seven years ago.
In the past, Max would never have agreed; Natsu's Fire Dragon Slayer Magic was a calamity, earning him the nickname 'Salamander.' Max used to be fodder, a background character who managed the merchandise.
But now it was different—he'd trained seven years longer than Natsu. He had held the line against debt collectors and dark guilds while Natsu slept.
[Location: Wasteland Outside the Guild]
Soon, the entire guild moved to the open ground beside the tavern. It was a dusty, rocky area, perfect for collateral damage.
Ren leaned against a tree, crossing his arms. Beside him, Mirajane smiled. "Who do you think will win, Ren?"
"In terms of raw power, Natsu," Ren analyzed calmly. "But Natsu is fighting with the rhythm of seven years ago. Max has adapted to the modern style. It might be surprising."
"Here I come!!"
Natsu didn't wait for a signal. He kicked off the ground, leaving a scorched footprint as he charged at Max. His fist was already wreathed in intense flames.
"Fire Dragon's Iron Fist!!"
The punch threw a wave of heat that distorted the air.
Max didn't panic. He didn't even flinch. He planted his feet firmly.
"Sand Rebellion!!"
Whoosh!
The ground beneath Natsu exploded. A torrent of sand erupted upward like a geyser, slamming into Natsu's chin and knocking his aim off-center.
"Gyaaah!" Natsu grunted, flipping in mid-air to regain his balance. "Burn up!"
He roared, expanding his magic power to incinerate the sand. The fire turned the sand particles into glass shards that scattered harmlessly.
But Max was already moving. His movements were fluid, efficient—no wasted energy.
"Sand Wall!!"
As Natsu came in for a second strike, the earth obeyed Max's command instantly. A dense, compacted wall of sand rose up, blocking Natsu's punch with a heavy thud.
"What? He blocked it?" Lucy gasped.
"I'm not the same as seven years ago—I've trained hard these years to protect the guild!" Max shouted. He swept his hand horizontally. "Sandstorm!"
A violent vortex of grit and wind engulfed Natsu, flaying at his skin.
"What?!"
"Natsu can't beat Max?!"
Lucy and Wendy stared in shock, their jaws dropping. To them, Natsu was an unstoppable force of nature. Seeing him struggle against Max—the guy who used to sell T-shirts—was inconceivable.
Bisca cheered, pumping her fist. "Unbelievable—Max is actually…"
"…pushing Natsu back." Warren was dumbfounded, checking his telepathic radar. "His magic power isn't higher than Natsu's, but his control... it's completely different."
"Does that mean we can take Natsu too…"
Seeing Max handle Natsu, Nob perked up, his spirit rising. After all, this was the Natsu Dragneel they were talking about. If Max could do it, maybe the gap wasn't so wide!
"Don't get cocky!" Natsu yelled from within the sandstorm. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding as he gathered a massive amount of ethernano.
"Fire Dragon's... ROAR!!"
BOOM!
A massive stream of crimson fire blasted through the sandstorm, turning the vortex into a tunnel of molten glass. The heat was intense, forcing the spectators to shield their faces.
But Max had anticipated the trajectory. He slid to the side, the sand under his feet acting like a conveyor belt.
"Sand Shift!"
"He dodged it?" Gray's eyes widened.
Max appeared on Natsu's flank while the Dragon Slayer was still recovering from the breath attack.
"Take this! Sand Trap!"
Max slammed his palms onto the ground. The earth beneath Natsu turned into a fluid quicksand pit.
"Whoa?!"
Before Natsu could jump, the sand rushed in, wrapping him up. But it didn't just hold him; it began to churn.
"Spin cycle!" Max commanded.
The sphere of sand encasing Natsu began to spin wildly, rotating at high speeds.
"Gah!! What is this?!"
"I remember your weakness, Natsu-san!" Max grinned triumphantly. "You Dragon Slayers have weak stomachs when it comes to transportation!"
Inside the spinning ball of sand, Natsu's face turned a shade of green that matched the surrounding foliage. The world was a blur. Up was down, down was up.
"Urgh~! I give~! Stop the ride!"
Natsu's voice was weak and trembling. The mighty Salamander, defeated not by brute force, but by motion sickness.
[Akarin's Note: Poor Natsu. The vehicle motion sickness debuff is truly the bane of all Dragon Slayers.]