"I can invite you to visit our guild."
Moen spoke up. Proving himself with words alone was the most troublesome thing—no matter how much he praised Fairy Tail, it wouldn't be as convincing as bringing this old man to experience it firsthand, to feel the warmth of a true family.
Moen believed the guild's atmosphere could move anyone's heart, because he firmly believed that Fairy Tail was the best guild of all!
"Sorry, I cannot leave this place."
Roubaul shook his head, rejecting the proposal.
"..."
Moen felt speechless. This old man really was difficult—this wouldn't work, that wouldn't work. Then the only option left was to find Jellal.
If worst came to worst, should he just expose the truth? Tell Wendy that these people were only thought projections?
Moen considered it for a moment, but in the end, he didn't act on it. After all, the reason old man Roubaul refused to let Wendy leave was essentially because he didn't want to betray Jellal's trust. Even if Moen revealed the truth, Roubaul would probably still persist.
"When did Jellal leave? Which direction did he go?"
Moen didn't hesitate anymore and asked directly. Either way, he had to find Jellal. Once he did, he could invite both of them to join the guild, completing the mission perfectly and collecting both rewards.
"He hasn't been gone long—about three or four hours. He went south. If you hurry along this path, you might be able to catch up."
Roubaul extended his hand and pointed in the direction Jellal had left.
Toward Clover?
Moen nodded slightly, his thoughts becoming clear.
The direction Roubaul pointed in was indeed toward Clover.
This rundown village was not close to Clover at all. On foot, three or four hours wouldn't even cover a third of the distance. And that was assuming Moen's pace.
But in terms of physical ability, Moen was absolutely confident. That Jellal could never match him. His body, tempered by sweat into steel, was no joke. Even during these days in the Wass Forest, he had never skipped his daily training.
Moen held firmly to one principle: when training, the sweat should fall on your own face—so that after training, it will be the enemy who sweats in fear.
"Wendy, stay here and wait for me. Once I find Jellal and bring him back, I'll take both of you to Fairy Tail. There's a boy in the guild named Natsu. He's a child of a dragon just like you, and he's searching for his vanished dragon as well. I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about."
Before setting out to find Jellal, Moen crouched down in front of Wendy, gently patting her head as he spoke tenderly.
He had decided to play his final card—the "Natsu the Fire Dragon" card. At this point, there was no point in keeping it hidden. Better to use it to give Wendy another reason to follow him.
"Really?!"
This card was Moen's ace for a reason. Hearing it, Wendy's large eyes immediately lit up.
"Of course it's true. Be patient and wait for me to come back."
Moen smiled, lightly patting Wendy's head once more. Then he stood up decisively and left without further explanation.
"Big brother! I'll be waiting for you to return!"
Watching Moen's rapidly retreating figure, Wendy cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted with all her strength, her whole body behind the words.
In the distance, Moen didn't look back. He simply raised his hand in response.
"..."
Roubaul looked at the scene and couldn't help shaking his head. He was clearly trying to help, yet why did it make him look like some kind of villain?
Old man Roubaul's little grievance aside, on the other side, Moen's search for Jellal went unexpectedly smoothly.
After leaving the rundown village, Moen quickly found Jellal's trail. In fact, it was hard not to notice.
In the distance, the horizon was shrouded by an immense surge of magic. The skies were blanketed with dense black clouds, pressing down like the end of the world.
From Moen's perspective, it looked as if the heavens themselves had been torn open, the gaping hole threatening to devour everything in existence.
Even from far away, the oppressive wave of magic was enough to make one feel sick, radiating an ominous sense of dread. It was certainly no ordinary spell.
The reason this phenomenon was tied to Jellal was because Moen could clearly sense Jellal's magical aura—or more precisely, the aura of Jellal's staff.
Jellal was casting—casting a spell to resist the anomaly tearing open the sky!
Moen didn't hesitate. He immediately dashed toward the area where the magic waves erupted. Inwardly, he was shocked. That staff in Jellal's hands was far more powerful than he had imagined.
The sheer amount of magic it released didn't feel like something any mere magical artifact could contain. The torrent of power was enormous, and the formation it constructed was reversing the terrifying distortion in the heavens. Otherwise, Moen wouldn't have noticed it from such a great distance.
Normally, a lacrima storing this much magic would be unstable—far too unstable to be used in a magic staff at all.
"How strange…"
Moen muttered as he pushed through dense thickets, ignoring the branches scraping at him. Swiftly, he broke through the forest and arrived at Jellal's location.
There, on the edge of a cliff, Jellal's slender figure stood, not imposing in stature but radiating a fierce determination. In his hand, he raised the staff high above his head.
From beneath his feet, an intricate magic circle spread outward, expanding in size. At the staff's tip, another smaller magic formation pulsed with power, sending waves of magic surging toward the "hole" above the sky.
What kind of spell is this? I've never seen it before…
Moen's expression hardened. Now that he stood beneath the phenomenon itself, the pressure weighing on both his body and spirit grew heavier. Even his own magic stirred restlessly inside him, as though provoked. This spell felt extremely dangerous.
Moen's arrival did not go unnoticed—Jellal spotted him instantly.
"Moen? What are you doing here?! It's dangerous! Leave this place now!"
Jellal strained to hold the staff aloft, his face twisting with effort as he maintained the magic circle's operation. He roared at Moen, his voice sharp with urgency.
"Cut the crap. Just tell me how I can help."
Moen's face was firm. He ignored Jellal's words urging him to flee and instead asked bluntly. Since he was here already, of course he would lend a hand. With something this dangerous, there was no way he'd feel safe leaving Jellal to face it alone.
"Moen! This magic is truly dangerous. If it goes wrong, you'll die! This is my problem—I won't drag anyone else into it!"
Jellal gritted his teeth, still trying to convince Moen to run. He himself wasn't certain he could reverse this spell successfully.
"Your problem? No… this isn't just your problem."
Before Moen could speak again, a familiar voice suddenly rang out behind him. Startled, Moen immediately spun around.
"Grandpa Makarov?! What are you doing here?!"
When he saw the newcomer, Moen's eyes went wide. That small, stern-faced old man was none other than his grandfather Makarov.
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