Leaving Makarov's miserable wailing behind, Shane spent a while joking around with the others in the guild.
Only when it started getting late did he finally say goodbye and head back with Erza to the place that belonged to them—their home.
Since they had been away so long, the moment he pushed open the door, a thin layer of dust came into view across the entryway floor.
The air was filled with a stale, stuffy smell of mildew.
"Cough…"
Shane, who had a mild aversion to dirt, instinctively covered his nose and mouth, his brows knitting slightly.
But when his fingers brushed across the shoe cabinet and came away with a trace of dust, the disgust in his heart mysteriously faded, replaced by a long-forgotten sense of ease and belonging.
"Looks like… we're going to need a full cleaning."
Clapping his hands, Shane changed into slippers and walked into the living room.
However—
when his gaze swept over the familiar coffee table in the center of the room, the warm smile on his face instantly froze, and the corners of his mouth began twitching uncontrollably.
"Er… za…"
Pointing at the magazine on the table—carefully wrapped in a dust cover—Shane's voice started trembling.
"Where did you get that thing?!"
"I thought I destroyed every last copy!"
It was the very issue published after that damn Weekly Sorcerer reporter had interviewed him half a year ago.
That blond bastard Jason had not only shrunk Shane's heartfelt account of the great hero Arash's most tragic sacrifice down to the tiniest little corner at the back—
he had also made the cover absurdly over-the-top and unbearably embarrassing—
Several huge red boldface "shocking reveal" headlines blazed across it so brightly they practically stabbed at the eyes:
[Shocking! The Boy Who Defeated a Wizard Saint!]
[Exclusive Exposé! The Unspeakable Secret Fetish of "Azurefall"!]
And the cover image—
was that snapshot Shane had wanted to crawl into a hole and die over:
Right in the center, silver-haired Shane and Mira were leaning close together like twin lotus blossoms. Mira was smiling with wild delight, while Shane wore a look of disgust mixed with utter helplessness.
And behind them stood Erza, sword in hand like a knightly bodyguard, her gaze resolute.
The composition of the whole photo was practically perfect—but once paired with that title, and the article's nonsense about "Shane's love of conquering powerful women," the entire magazine reeked of tawdry scandal.
Jason had obviously not taken Shane's warning not to write nonsense to heart at all.
As for this black history—
on the very day the issue came out, Shane had stormed into the biggest bookstore in Magnolia in a fury of shame and burned every copy in stock with a blast of Heart Flame!
He had even nearly charged over to the editorial office to hang that blond reporter from a streetlamp!
He'd thought that had been the end of it. But apparently not…
"You can guard against everything except a traitor in your own house! There's a mole in my home!" Shane said, clutching his chest as he looked at the perfectly preserved magazine.
"Because it has a very important photo in it."
Erza showed not the slightest awareness that she was the "traitor." She walked over and carefully picked up the magazine as though it were some priceless treasure.
"So I specifically asked the editorial department to send me the remaining stock."
"A memorial? My ass!"
Shane didn't care about any sentimental value. The moment he looked at that title, his blood pressure spiked.
"Hand it over! Right now! Immediately! I'm destroying it!"
"No."
Erza reacted with startling speed and dodged to the side.
"It's mine."
She looked at Shane with open vigilance and even took two steps back.
"…"
Shane was completely speechless.
For some reason, this girl was incredibly wary of Ultear—so wary that she seemed ready to guard against her every second.
But toward Mira, the rival she literally fought with every day, she was mysteriously tolerant. She could even calmly keep a photo like this that practically screamed "three-way emotional battlefield."
If the person in that photo with his arm around him had been Ultear instead…
Shane would have bet anything that Erza would want to burn the magazine even more than he did.
Yeah… sure enough, everyone instinctively keeps their guard up around dangerous women.
In the end, failing to seize it, Shane had no choice but to accept defeat through gritted teeth.
"Fine. Do whatever you want," he said tiredly, waving a hand. "Collect it if you want. Just don't let me see it."
With that, not waiting for Erza to answer, he grabbed a change of clothes and stormed off toward the backyard like a sulking child.
…
Splash—
Hot water rose over his chest, washing away the day's exhaustion.
Shane leaned back against the edge of the open-air bath, looking up at the bright full moon overhead, and let out a long, satisfied breath.
"As expected, nothing beats a bath…"
Just then, the magic crystal tucked into the pocket of the clothes he'd left on the bank began glowing faintly.
"Hm?"
Shane raised a brow.
Speak of the devil—this was the communicator he used only with Ultear.
He reached out, picked up the crystal, and fed magic into it.
Bzzz.
The light gathered, and a screen opened in the misty steam.
The black-haired girl he had just been complaining about appeared in front of him, expressionless.
Ultear seemed to be in some dimly lit room. Her indifferent eyes swept across the screen and took in Shane's bare upper body soaking in the bath.
Her gaze was so flat it was like she was looking at a cut of pork in a market stall—there wasn't the slightest trace of girlish embarrassment or avoidance.
"I'll be back in a couple of days."
That was all she said. A cold, contextless statement.
"Hey, I'm telling you—"
Shane had just been about to complain that her mother was getting more and more wild lately when the screen abruptly cut off.
Click.
Not even an extra facial expression. The communication was severed unilaterally.
"…"
Holding the magic crystal, the vein at Shane's temple twitched.
"She's just as self-centered and cold as ever!"
Grinding his teeth, he angrily tossed the crystal back onto the pile of clothes and sank back into the water with a splash.
"Compared to that… Erza—with her slightly weird little quirks—is basically an angel!"
"I absolutely need to join forces with Erza, present a united front, and crush that arrogant attitude of hers!"
Ever since half a year ago, Shane had been looking forward to the expression on Ultear's face when she realized she could no longer manipulate him—and might even end up the one being cornered by Erza instead.
Just imagining that scene was enough to brighten his mood.
"Heh…"
Thinking of it, Shane couldn't help humming to himself. Even the frustration of having that black-history magazine permanently preserved suddenly felt much lighter.
…
At the same time—
under a distant sky, above an unknown stretch of sea—
a massive magical airship floated quietly in the night.
Inside the throne hall—
an old man with an eyepatch and a long white beard rested his chin on one hand, his single eye staring coldly downward.
"Who has Ultear been contacting again?"
Hades's voice was hoarse and low, echoing through the vast hall with a suffocating sense of pressure.
"That kind of thing… don't ask me."
Off to the side, a man with a long braid and martial-arts robes was lounging there lazily, yawning.
"I'm not interested in a woman's private affairs."
"…"
Hades ignored Bluenote's perfunctory answer. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the arm of his throne, producing a steady tap, tap.
Ultear's Arc of Time was extremely useful. She was one of the most perfect pieces on his board so far.
But he had noticed for a long time that something about this disciple of his was off.
She seemed to have been maintaining frequent secret contact with someone.
If it had been ordinary communication, Hades—with all his confidence and cunning—would never have cared.
But…
"The place she keeps going after making contact is far too sensitive."
A shadow passed through Hades's eye.
"Magnolia."
According to the reports, Ultear had secretly gone to the city where that guild was based several times already, each under the excuse of a mission.
And not long ago, she had openly pulled all kinds of valuable materials from the guild library before setting out there.
Such abnormal behavior made it impossible for him not to overthink it.
After a moment of silence, Hades spoke:
"Rustyrose."
"Yes."
At the summons, a man with a bizarre expression and black-framed glasses slowly stepped out of the shadows.
He wore his silver hair in a style like a pompadour, and there was an unsettling magic about him.
"Go and find out what Ultear has been doing lately."
Hades gave the order calmly.
"Don't follow her. That girl is smart—ordinary methods won't get past her."
"Go straight to Magnolia and wait for her there."
"With my abilities… Ultear would actually notice me?"
Rustyrose pushed up his glasses, a trace of dissatisfaction rising in his heart.
He had absolute confidence in his Arc of Embodiment magic. To him, the Master was overestimating that woman too much.
But faced with Hades's orders, he didn't dare let the slightest dissatisfaction show. He could only bow his head respectfully.
"Yes!"
"Go."
Hades waved a hand. "Observe everything, and report back exactly what you saw, without changing a single detail."
"As you command."
Rustyrose bowed and turned to leave.
But just as he was about to step out of the hall—
"Wait."
From the throne behind him, that old voice sounded again.
"And while you're at it… keep an eye on the guild there too."
"Fairy Tail."
"Yes."
Rustyrose turned back once more, a flicker of puzzlement passing through his eyes.
Fairy Tail?
That guild was certainly famous throughout Fiore, but it shouldn't have had anything to do with a dark-world force at the summit like Grimoire Heart.
Unless…
had Master Hades set his sights on it?
At that thought, Rustyrose couldn't help licking his lips, excitement of a cruel kind flashing in his eyes.
If it was the so-called strongest legal guild in Fiore…
then it would make a fitting enough stepping stone for Grimoire Heart's emergence into the world.
Clinging to that twisted anticipation, he turned and stepped into the darkness, his footsteps gradually fading away.
Watching his subordinate depart, Hades said nothing further.
He simply leaned back into his throne again, that single eye gazing distantly through the high window in that direction.
"Right about now… it should be time for that guild's S-Class exam, shouldn't it?"
The old man muttered softly:
"What a pity… Makarov."
"The interactions between the two of us from here on… likely won't be very pleasant."
~~~
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