An elegant and luxurious Western European-style hall sat nestled in the mountains, surrounded by beautiful scenery. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled shadows on the stone steps.
Inside the hall, long tables were set, piled high with food and wine. The air was thick with the rich aroma of roasted meat and aged ale.
A group of guild masters were drinking to their hearts' content, their boastful voices rising and falling amidst the clinking of glasses.
Makarov stood in the center of the crowd. His short stature meant he had to stand on a chair to barely reach the tabletop, but his presence was no less imposing than anyone else's.
With one arm around Riyao's shoulder and a wine glass larger than his head in the other, he bragged to everyone around him with a face flushed red.
"Hahaha! This is our guild's top star! The kingdom-renowned Healing Mage!" Makarov slapped Riyao's back with enough force to sound like a drum. "If a guild doesn't have a junior like this, they've truly lived for nothing!"
Riyao stumbled forward a step from the slap. His lips twitched, but he still cooperated by putting on a polite smile and nodding to the surrounding people.
Bob, the master of Blue Pegasus, approached with elegant steps. He held his hand in a delicate gesture and lightly poked Riyao's arm, his eyes and brows full of smiles: "Oh my, little Riyao, when will you come visit us at Blue Pegasus? Or how about trying your hand at being a host? You'd definitely be our star attraction."
As he spoke, he traced a circle on Riyao's shoulder with his fingertip, his eyes full of calculation.
Riyao reflexively took two steps back and crossed his hands in front of him, his smile instantly becoming stiff: "I'll pass. If Mira found out I dared to become a host, she'd definitely string me up and beat me for three days and three nights... no, at least a week."
He subconsciously rubbed the back of his head, as if already feeling the pain that might descend in the future, and shrank his neck.
Godman, the master of Four Hound Dogs, squeezed over from the side. He extended a calloused hand in a rock-and-roll gesture, his voice as loud as if he were at a concert: "WILD!!! Riyao, your physical fitness is getting stronger and stronger! These muscles! This physique!"
Riyao felt a bit flattered by the praise. His lips curled up unconsciously as he crisply flexed his arm, bulging his modest biceps. He even specifically turned at an angle to let the light hit the muscle lines, shaking them twice to show off.
Master Ooba of Lamia Scale walked over holding a wine glass, her plump figure swaying with every step. Shaking a finger with bright red nail polish, she let out a string of hearty laughter: "Oh ho ho—such a youthful aura, it really makes one..."
Riyao tried to delete the memory of this person in a swimsuit from the anime.
She crossed her arms, her chin slightly raised, and said with a hint of showing off: "Hmm... he's on par with that brat Jura of ours." Though her tone was clearly praising him, she insisted on adding "brat," but the pride in her eyes couldn't be hidden.
Many guild masters took the opportunity to crowd around. Some patted his shoulder, some handed him wine, and some directly grabbed Riyao's hand and shook it vigorously. They were all trying to get on familiar terms, thinking that if their guild's juniors got injured in the future, they could ask Riyao for help with healing.
Riyao turned no one away, responding to each one with a face full of smiles, but his eyes occasionally swept across the venue as if looking for someone.
He looked around, his gaze searching every corner. Finally, he frowned slightly; he didn't see that old man Jose anywhere.
"He actually didn't come this time..." Riyao rubbed his chin, his lips curling into an ambiguous arc. He muttered to himself: It seems I can't make him mess his pants this time. Could he have noticed the last few times? Shouldn't be, I did it quite discreetly...
In the restroom of the Phantom Lord guild, Jose was clutching a tissue, exerting effort: "Why do I get diarrhea every time I go to that damn regular meeting? Now I feel like going to the bathroom just hearing the words 'regular meeting.'"
Riyao shook his head, pulled his thoughts back, and joined the ranks of the boasters.
"Let me tell you, the Celestial Spirit King and I almost became sworn brothers!" Riyao leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. One hand rested on his knee while the other casually swirled his wine glass. His tone was nonchalant yet tinged with regret. "Unfortunately, the other Celestial Spirits didn't want another boss, so they insisted on ruining it. Sigh... what a pity."
He sighed, but his expression clearly said, "I'm someone the Celestial Spirit King took a fancy to."
Bob leaned in and lowered his voice. His delicate finger lightly touched Riyao's wrist, his tone unusually devoid of playfulness: "Leo... is he okay?"
Riyao's movement of swirling the glass paused. His fingertip stopped on the rim, and his smile slowly faded. He lowered his eyes, his lashes casting a small shadow beneath them. He remained silent for two seconds before speaking.
"He's about to vanish... There's nothing I can do. That is the power of the contract."
Makarov also sighed, his small body leaning against the back of the chair. A hint of heartache flashed in his cloudy old eyes: "That child, Loki..."
Riyao glanced sideways at Makarov, his lip curling slightly in blatant disdain: "Old man, you have the nerve to call him a child? He's probably older than you can imagine."
Makarov's beard instantly flared out. Flushed with anger, his small body hopped down from the chair, and he swung a leg to kick Riyao.
"You brat!"
Riyao was prepared. With a pivot of his feet, his body spun half a circle as smoothly as if carried by the wind, easily dodging Makarov's flying kick.
His back relaxed slightly as he slowly tilted his head back, his chin raised at a perfect angle. He casually lifted one hand, running his long fingers through the stray hairs on his forehead and brushing them back. His movements were lazy and flamboyant, as if he couldn't even be bothered to dodge seriously.
The corner of his mouth hooked up into a smirk, three parts rogue and seven parts smug. The corners of his eyes tilted up slightly as he looked down at the fuming Makarov from above.
"Is that it?"
Makarov almost choked on his breath. His small frame wobbled as he hurriedly fumbled in his robes for a long time, pulling out a crumpled small pill bottle. He poured out two Vitamin C tablets, popped them into his mouth, swallowed them dry, and then vigorously smoothed his chest. His beard twitched.
Don't get angry, don't get angry. It's not worth ruining my health. We're at the regular meeting now, so many old friends are watching. I must maintain the dignity of a master... It won't be too late to beat this brat once we get back!
He muttered silently in his heart. The red on his face slowly receded, but the look he glared at Riyao with was still fierce.
Riyao shrugged with a "do as you please" rascally look, and even thoughtfully handed over a glass of water.
Makarov took the glass and gulped down a large mouthful, finally feeling his heartbeat stabilize.
Standing to the side, Godman, Barnabas, and Bob watched this scene and burst into a fit of laughter in unison.
"Hahahaha! Old Ma is still as energetic as ever!" Godman slapped his thigh, his rock-and-roll gesture almost flying off. His long grey-white hair shook violently with his laughter. "That temper hasn't changed a bit!"
Bob laughed so hard he forgot to hold his delicate hand gesture. He bent over clutching his stomach, tears of laughter welling in his eyes: "Oh my, seeing this scene makes me suddenly miss the days in Fairy Tail. Back then, every day was this lively!"
Barnabas crossed his arms, a nostalgic smile curling his lips, his gaze becoming somewhat distant: "Yeah... back then, the guild was in chaos every day, and the walls were smashed through every other day..."
He paused, his tone carrying a hint of sentiment: "Thinking about it now, it really is nostalgic."
The three looked at each other and smiled, a warm light flashing in the depths of their eyes.
The three of them were once members of Fairy Tail.
The guild back then was noisy, chaotic, and lacked any sense of order, but it was also the warmest and most human place. Every morning when you pushed open the door, what greeted you was always a cacophony of noise, the sound of breaking glasses, and the commotion of two certain people brawling.
Later, they each left and founded their own guilds. Blue Pegasus was elegant and magnificent, Four Hound Dogs was wild and uninhibited, and Lamia Scale was calm and reserved. Every guild had its own style, but deep in their hearts, there was always a corner reserved for those days in Fairy Tail.
Bob straightened up, wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes with his fingertip, and looked at Riyao with a smile: "Little Riyao, come play at Blue Pegasus when you have time. We have so many handsome men and beautiful women!"
"WILD!!! Come to Four Hound Dogs! Our place is much more exciting!" Barnabas smashed a fist into his palm, his voice so loud the wine glasses on the table trembled.
Godman cleared his throat, his chin slightly raised: "Ahem... the tea and snacks at Lamia Scale are quite good. That brat Jura's tea-making skills are getting better and better."
Riyao watched as the three former Fairy Tail members vied to invite him. His lips twitched as he thought: Are they trying to poach me?
Makarov listened from the side, his beard bristling. He couldn't help but interject: "Hey, hey, hey! You three, don't poach people from our guild!"
The three turned their heads in unison to look at Makarov and said simultaneously: "It's better than you, picking up kids off the street every day."
Makarov was choked for words. His beard trembled, and finally, he could only turn his head away with a huff.
Just then, a venue staff member came running over holding a crystal ball.