Roger didn't answer right away. Instead, he struggled to lift his one functional hand, a faint glow flickering at his fingertips. Two vials of softly glowing red potion materialized in his palm.
He popped the corks and downed both in one go.
The liquid hit his throat, and a warm current surged through his limbs. The stinging pain from his wounds turned into an itchy tingle. Charred skin peeled away visibly, revealing fresh, pink flesh beneath, and deep gashes knitted together, scabbing over.
In just a few breaths, aside from his tattered clothes and lingering bloodstains, his injuries had almost completely healed.
"I could just stick to practicing illusion magic, sure," Roger said, "but what happens if one day an enemy sees through my illusions?"
"What if their magic happens to counter mine? How do I deal with that?"
He continued, "Back in my hometown, there's a saying: 'The more skills you have, the better.' It's the same with magic. The more types you master, the more options you have against enemies, and the more flexible your thinking becomes."
"A strong opponent won't fall for the same trick twice. If I tried using the same magic against the guild master again, it probably wouldn't work at all this time."
"As for it being tiring?" Roger paused, reflecting. Compared to the grueling 996 work schedule of his past life, this was a breeze. Plus, taking on quests meant he could sightsee, and the schedule was pretty flexible.
"It's not bad at all. It feels pretty relaxed. You only really start working once you reach the quest location."
"Battles are easy too—just a few moves, and it's done. Sometimes I don't even have to lift a finger."
"And practicing magic or reading about it? I find it fun. Combining different magics can create all sorts of unique effects."
Roger pulled two more red potions from his spatial storage and tossed them to Laxus, who was gaping at him. "Here, for healing."
Laxus fumbled to catch the vials, sitting up despite the bone-deep ache in his body. He stared at the miraculous potion in his hand, dumbfounded.
"This—this actually works?! Your injuries—they're gone, just like that?!" He glanced at Roger's fully restored arm, then down at his own battered body, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"You made this potion with your magic too?"
"Yup." Roger stretched, his newly healed muscles popping faintly, feeling much lighter. "Alright, fight's over." He stood, brushing dirt and grass off his pants. "Don't forget to bring me that swordsmanship book." With that, he turned to leave.
"Wait!" Laxus called out, his voice tinged with urgency.
He tried to stand but was too battered to manage it, slumping back to the ground.
When Roger glanced back, Laxus looked away, his gaze flickering. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, a faint flush creeping across his tanned cheeks. His voice dropped, hesitant and a little embarrassed.
"Uh… could I—maybe—sign a contract with you?"
Roger's face betrayed his shock. He stared at Laxus, half-expecting he'd misheard.
Laxus—that Laxus—was asking to form a contract? This was more surprising than their entire brawl.
"It's possible," Roger said, tamping down his astonishment and meeting Laxus's eyes seriously. "But you know, if we form a contract, I'll gain access to your Lightning Dragon Slayer Magic. You sure about this?"
"Yeah." Laxus gave a small but firm nod, finally meeting Roger's gaze. "I don't care."
A stubborn glint flashed in his eyes. "Sure, you'll get my magic, but it's my original magic. There's no way you'll surpass me with it."
"Fair enough." Roger didn't argue further, silently initiating the contract in his mind.
Laxus stiffened as a voice echoed in his head, then shook it off, a little uncomfortable. "Feels kinda like telepathy—your voice just popping into my mind."
"A bit cold, though."
[Ding! Acquired Lightning Magic LV5, Lightning Dragon Slayer Magic LV4, Thunder Palace LV1, Fairy Law LV1.]
Roger froze, stunned. This was the first time he'd gained so many magics from one person through a contract. And Fairy Law? A super-magic like that, too?!
Laxus tested his magic power, but nothing seemed different. "Doesn't feel like much," he muttered, skeptical. "Can this really boost my magic in battle?"
Giving up on standing, he drank the potion, then lay back on the ground, arms behind his head, staring at the sky.
His voice grew quieter,"You know… I'm kinda jealous of you."
"You came to the guild all on your own. Every bit of progress you make, everyone credits it to you—not some family legacy."
"People are amazed by every step you take. To them, what you do is practically a miracle—impossible stuff. You're like this one-of-a-kind genius."
"Aren't you the same?" Roger asked, puzzled. "When we first joined the guild, Macao was hyping you up, saying you could be the youngest S-Class mage ever."
Laxus sat up, absently digging his fingers into the scorched earth.
"Yeah, but there's a catch—'Makarov's grandson, Laxus.'"
"Everyone thinks my achievements are because of Gramps. Like it's expected for me to be this good. If I didn't achieve this much, that's what they'd find weird."
"All my hard work just gets boiled down to 'the guild master's grandson.' But I spent so much time and effort to get where I am."
Roger paused, taken aback. He hadn't realized Laxus felt this way. The rebellious streak in the original story suddenly made a lot more sense. He sighed.
"Is that really what you think?" Roger sat down beside him, picking up a charred stick to fiddle with.
"Hard work matters, no doubt. But sometimes, talent—or your starting point—matters even more."
Seeing Laxus's defiant look, Roger continued calmly, "Some people, no matter how hard they try, will never even reach your starting line."
"If you didn't inherit the guild master's magic power, would yours be this strong? Would you understand magic as deeply as you do?"
"Where I grew up, there was barely any knowledge about magic. At first, I didn't even know how to train my magic power because no one around me did."
"But you? The moment you heard that system prompt, you could already name a similar magic. That kind of knowledge is a weapon when you face enemies."
Laxus went quiet for a moment before speaking. "I remember when you joined the guild, you were already a B-Class mage. If your village had no magic, how'd you awaken yours?"
Roger's expression softenedਕ. "My village was attacked by a dark magic cult. I got blasted out by a spell, and in that moment of crisis, Erza awakened her magic. Together, we took down the enemy, and that's when my magic awakened."
Laxus blinked, his voice softening. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up—"
"It's fine," Roger waved him off. "It's in the past. And honestly, those events shaped who I am now."
He stood, brushing off the dirt, his gaze clear and resolute. "What other people think doesn't matter to me. I take useful advice and ignore the rest."
"People can say whatever they want."
"But the magic power I've trained is real. It's mine to use—to fight enemies or protect what I care about."
Noticing Laxus's still-furrowed brow, Roger softened his tone. "You're tying yourself up in knots, and that'll just leave you frustrated and lost."
"Try loosening up a bit. You'll feel lighter, and sometimes the answers to your problems will just hit you."
Roger turned, giving Laxus a casual wave as he headed back to the guild. "If it's still weighing you down—then surpass it!"
"When you're stronger than the guild master—"
"No one will remember you as anyone but Laxus."
His footsteps faded into the distance.
In the clearing, Laxus sat still, his eyes locked on where Roger had disappeared.
The air smelled of scorched earth and dust. His clenched fists trembled, knuckles whitening as tiny golden sparks crackled between his fingers, popping faintly.
He looked down at his hands.
"Stronger… than Gramps?" he muttered, his voice low and hoarse, burning with a newfound, fiery longing.
The adrenaline from their brutal, no-holds-barred fight still coursed through him. Roger's final words were like a stone tossed into his heart, sending ripples he couldn't ignore.
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