The name had surfaced in his sweeping acquisition of knowledge.
Fairy Tail.
Mentioned in whispers, sometimes with awe, sometimes with exasperation.
A guild of powerful mages.
A guild known for its… unorthodox members.
Outcasts and weirdos, some called them. Destructive, others lamented, usually in relation to property damage.
Eshu had learned of other guilds, of course.
Lamia Scale, with its focus on strength and camaraderie.
Blue Pegasus, renowned for its… stylish mages and airships.
Quatro Cerberus, whose members seemed to enjoy yelling. A lot.
But Fairy Tail resonated.
There was an undercurrent in the stories, a sense of fierce loyalty, of unbreakable bonds, of a wild, untamed spirit.
It sounded… interesting.
And less constrained than the others. A place where overwhelming power might be less frowned upon, provided it was, eventually, pointed in the right direction.
Outcasts and weirdos? Might fit right in. Or at least, they won't bore me.
Finding its location wasn't difficult.
Magnolia Town. Some distance from Crocus.
He had absorbed enough maps and geographical knowledge to chart a course instantly.
Before leaving the capital, he had attended to a practical matter.
Defense.
While he now possessed the theoretical mastery of countless fighting styles and magical disciplines, theory needed tools.
He'd done some odd jobs. Simple tasks, really.
His instant understanding of engineering principles allowed him to repair a complex piece of machinery for a bewildered artisan in minutes, a task the man had struggled with for weeks.
He'd identified a rare herb causing a strange sickness in a wealthy merchant's prized plants, a diagnosis that had eluded several self-proclaimed botanists. His knowledge of biology and biochemistry, absorbed from texts on healing and alchemy, made it child's play.
The payments were quick, the gratitude effusive.
With the accumulated funds, he visited a blacksmith.
Not the artisan whose enchanting skills he'd mentally cataloged. This was a different smith, one known for sturdy, practical wares.
Eshu didn't need anything fancy. Not yet.
Just functional. Reliable.
His eyes scanned the racks of weapons.
He saw the subtle imperfections in the tempering, the slight misalignments in the hilts.
He also saw the honest labor, the good steel.
He selected a sword.
Long, straight, double-edged, with a simple crossguard.
It felt balanced in his hand, an extension of the combat knowledge already thrumming within him.
He could already feel how it would move, the arcs it would describe, the force it could deliver.
He also picked up a shield.
Round, steel-banded wood. Solid.
He knew, precisely, its stress tolerances, the optimal angles for deflecting blows, how to use its weight in an attack.
The blacksmith, a burly man with soot-stained arms, watched him with a critical eye.
"Know how to use 'em?" the smith grunted, gesturing towards the sword and shield.
Eshu offered a small, confident smile. "I'll manage."
If he only knew.
The smith, perhaps sensing an unusual confidence in the young man, merely nodded and took his payment.
Now, equipped, Eshu left Crocus.
The grand gates receded behind him.
The open road stretched ahead.
He moved with a swift, ground-eating pace, a combination of stamina learned from observing marathon runners and the efficient biomechanics of master trackers.
The journey to Magnolia was uneventful for the most part.
Bandits attempted an ambush once.
A shabby group, emerging from the trees with rusty weapons and hopeful snarls.
Eshu didn't even break stride.
His mind processed the threat instantly.
Seven opponents. Predictable attack vectors. Subpar equipment.
Amateurs.
The first bandit lunged, a clumsy overhead chop with a chipped axe.
Eshu shifted his weight, a micro-adjustment.
The axe whistled past, missing by a hair's breadth.
His left hand, holding the shield, came up in a blur.
Not to block. To strike.
The edge of the shield connected with the bandit's exposed wrist.
A sharp crack. A scream. The axe clattered to the ground.
Before the others could react, Eshu was moving.
His sword was a flicker of steel.
He didn't aim to kill. Just to incapacitate.
A precise cut to a shoulder tendon here.
The flat of the blade to a temple there.
A hilt strike to a solar plexus.
His movements were economical, a whirlwind of perfectly applied force and leverage.
He used no magic. He didn't need to.
This was pure physical skill, drawn from a dozen assimilated martial arts, refined to brutal efficiency.
In under ten seconds, all seven bandits were groaning on the ground, disarmed and in various states of painful incapacitation.
Eshu paused, sword still, shield ready.
No more threats.
He calmly sheathed his sword.
A good practical application. Confirmation of acquired skill.
He didn't spare them a second glance as he continued on his way.
He was ready for a fight. More than ready.
His true power, the magic he'd only begun to catalog the theory of, remained a hidden trump card.
He relished the thought of the surprise it would be.
Overwhelmed, they think? Then the real show starts.
The landscape changed gradually. Rolling hills gave way to denser forests, then to open plains.
He saw small villages, skirted around them.
His focus was Magnolia. And Fairy Tail.
Finally, after several days of travel, he crested a hill.
Below him lay a town.
It had a cheerful, slightly ramshackle look.
A river wound its way nearby.
And in the center, a building that stood out.
Large, boisterous-looking, with a distinctive, almost whimsical architectural style.
A sign above the wide doors depicted a fairy with a tail.
There it is.
Fairy Tail.
He could already hear the noise from here.
Shouting. Laughter. The occasional thump that sounded suspiciously like someone being thrown through a table.
Eshu grinned.
This was promising.
He adjusted the shield on his arm, the sword at his hip.
Time to make an entrance.
Or at least, an inquiry.
He walked down the hill, towards the heart of the chaos.
Towards his next great source of learning, and perhaps, belonging.
———
The road to Magnolia was dusty.
Each step crunched on loose gravel.
Eshu walked with a steady, purposeful rhythm.
His new sword was a comforting weight at his hip.
The shield felt like an extension of his arm.
He was thinking.
Not just about Fairy Tail, or the journey.
About himself. About his capabilities.
His cheat. Instant Learning.
It wasn't just about absorbing what others knew.
It was about forging his own path, armed with an unprecedented arsenal of understanding.
What kind of mage would he be? What would be his… signature?
Many mages specialized.
One type of element. One school of magic.
It focused their power, their training.
But he didn't need to train in the traditional sense.
He could know multiple disciplines as deeply as any master. Instantly.
So, what felt right? What resonated with the core of him?
His hand rested on the pommel of his sword.
Combat. Direct. Physical. That was a foundation.
He enjoyed the clarity of it, the definitive nature of shield and blade.
A fighter, yes. But not just a mundane one.
He thought back to Crocus.
The old enchanter, carefully etching runes of power onto steel.
The knowledge of that art was vivid within Eshu.
Not just the old man's methods, but the underlying principles. The vast, almost limitless potential of imbuing objects with magical properties.
Enchanting. That's one. A Master Enchanter.
He could see it. His own weapons, his armor, shimmering with bespoke empowerments.
Each enchantment perfectly designed, perfectly applied. Adapting his gear to any foe, any situation.
No reliance on finding or buying enchanted items. He would be the source.
My sword, not just steel, but a conduit for any magic I choose. My shield, not just a barrier, but a focal point for defenses beyond mere metal.
Then, another piece of knowledge surfaced.
Requip magic.
Spatial manipulation. The ability to summon weapons and armor from a personal, extradimensional space.
He'd learned of its theory, its mechanics. Many variations existed.
The sheer versatility appealed to him.
The right tool for the right moment, appearing with but a thought.
No longer limited to what he could physically carry.
An entire armory at his beck and call.
Swords for different foes. Shields for specific attacks. Perhaps even specialized enchanted armors.
Requip. Yes. A Requip Master.
The combination clicked in his mind.
A Sword and Shield Fighter.
A Master Enchanter.
A Requip Master.
It wasn't three separate disciplines. It was a synergy.
He would fight with enchanted weapons he himself crafted, summoned to his hand in the blink of an eye.
He wouldn't just be skilled; he would be adaptable, unpredictable.
His sword and shield style wouldn't be static. It would evolve, augmented by the specific enchantments he applied, the specialized gear he could requip.
One moment, a stalwart defender with a heavily reinforced tower shield.
The next, a whirling dervish with twin blades, each crackling with elemental energy.
And the beauty of Instant Learning?
He didn't need to spend years mastering these arts.
The moment he decided to focus on them, the full weight of his understanding would align.
He already knew how to be a Master Enchanter. He simply had to start doing it.
He already understood the principles of Requip. He just needed to establish his personal dimensional space, a feat his mind was already outlining the most efficient method for.
This is it. This is my style. My magic.
The thought solidified, not as a mere whim, but as a core aspect of his new identity in this world.
He felt a surge of confidence.
It wasn't arrogance. It was the simple, absolute certainty that came with his unique gift.
He wasn't just going to join a guild.
He was going to redefine what it meant to be a versatile mage.
His pace quickened ever so slightly.
Magnolia, and Fairy Tail, were just ahead.
And Eshu Dio, Master Enchanter, Requip Swordsman, was ready to begin.