Fairy Tail: My Magic is a Yu-Gi-Oh! Deck — Chapter 35

Chapter 35: How S-Class Wizards Really Get Along

Deep within a secluded mountainous region, suspended over a vast, mirror-like lake, the emerald-crystalline spires of the Magic Council headquarters stood as a monument to absolute authority.

Inside the grand chamber, the highest authorities of Fiore’s magical society gathered. Their holographic projections stood upon elevated stone pedestals shaped like colossal, open palms, forming a circle of judgment.

The returning investigation team had just delivered their complete report on the crisis at Erma Ruins Island.

“To think that Fairy Tail—a guild entirely synonymous with collateral damage and endless headaches—would actually act with such righteous restraint this time.”

“Hmph. Restraint? They completely leveled a kingdom-funded tourist resort!”

“A few shattered buildings are a cheap price to pay. Had the situation escalated, we would be dealing with a massacre of innocent citizens.”

“The investigation team’s on-site survey was clear. If the Eighteen War Gods of Yakuma had fully awakened and returned to their prime condition, we wouldn’t be mourning a tiny resort island. The safety of the entire nation would have been compromised.”

“Regardless of their usual chaotic methods, Chase and Mirajane did us a massive favor.”

A heavy pause settled over the room before another voice echoed from the stone pillars. “Then… what of the incident in the Guiltina continent? The ruined kingdom town. Do we still proceed with pressuring Fairy Tail over that?”

Silence fell over the circular chamber.

All eyes shifted to the central platform. Chairman Crawford Theme stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his signature twin goat-beards swaying slightly in the ambient magic currents. An ancient, leather-bound grimoire floated lazily by his side.

He stroked his beard, his aged eyes narrowing in thought as he let the silence stretch.

“It appears Makarov’s brats aren’t entirely useless,” Crawford finally rasped, his voice carrying the weight of absolute law. “We will shelve the Guiltina matter for now. The agenda we established yesterday is hereby voided.”

“Tomorrow, summon Makarov to the Magnolia branch. I want a complete, detailed report on the Erma Ruins Island incident directly from him.”

The ‘agenda’ from yesterday had been a strict ultimatum: One more incident, and Fairy Tail will be forcibly disbanded.

Since the Chairman himself had handed down the ruling, the other Council members—even those holding deep grudges against the unruly guild—swallowed their complaints and nodded in silent agreement.

Among them, one figure stood with a faint, amused smirk.

Light blue hair framed his face, drawing attention to the distinct, crimson tattoo marking his right eye. Siegrain—the thought projection of Jellal Fernandes—leaned casually against his stone pedestal.

Chase Lin Edogado, he mused, his eyes flashing with quiet intrigue. You sound like quite the entertaining anomaly.

I wonder… is the Council letting you off the hook a blessing, or a curse?

Erza…

Early the next morning, Makarov Dreyar sat huddled in the back of a magic-powered four-wheeler bound for the Council’s Magnolia branch.

He hadn’t received a single shred of news from the Galuna Island team yet. In his mind, this sudden summons could only mean one thing: the Council was finally dropping the executioner’s axe over the destroyed town in Guiltina.

The tiny Guild Master clutched his walking stick, his face pale, sweating profusely like a condemned prisoner marching toward the gallows.

The moment Makarov left city limits, the morning delivery arrived in Magnolia.

The front page of Sorcerer Weekly hit the newsstands like a localized earthquake. The highly anticipated “Hero and Demon” collaborative feature had been entirely scrapped overnight by frantic editors.

In its place was a massive, edge-to-edge photograph.

It captured the towering, imposing back of a single mage—Chase—standing alone against the colossal, nightmarish bulk of the Yakuma Guardian Mage Ship. The headline screamed of the crisis averted at Erma Ruins Island.

Inside Magnolia’s largest tavern, the morning crowd was already buzzing.

“Hey! Are you seeing this?!” A young man slammed a crumpled copy of the magazine onto a wooden table. His eyes were wide, practically bulging out of his skull.

A black emblem shaped like a bird’s footprint marked his right bicep—the insignia of the Black Teal’s Foot guild. He was their self-proclaimed strongest mage. Ever since Chase’s Giant Soldier of Stone had casually kicked him into the stratosphere days ago, the hot-blooded youth had been lurking in Magnolia, digging up dirt on Chase for a chance at revenge.

“That Fairy Tail maniac actually saved an entire island of tourists?!”

“Oh, yeah. Saw that,” a patron at the next table mumbled, lazily chewing on a piece of dried meat.

The Black Teal’s Foot mage blinked. He looked around. The waitstaff, the bartender, the early-morning drinkers—none of them even batted an eye.

“Are you people blind?!” he sputtered. “That’s Chase! The guy who treats property damage like a competitive sport! He did a good deed, and you’re all just… sitting there?!”

The burly tavern owner chuckled, wiping down a wooden beer mug with a rag before setting it down in front of the stunned mage. He filled it to the brim with frothy ale.

“You’ve gotta be from out of town, kid.”

“I am, but that’s not the point! Aren’t you locals constantly terrorized by this guy? How are you not shocked?”

The owner leaned against the counter, a fond smile breaking through his thick beard. “Because Chase doing something crazy to save people is just a Tuesday for us.”

He pointed a thick finger toward the window. “Let me paint you a picture. Last year, a pack of mutated, alcohol-craving beasts swarmed the suburbs. They were tearing through the streets, heading straight for the storehouses. Before the army even got their boots laced, Chase heard the racket, stepped in, and flattened the whole pack.”

“Sure, the crater he left in the street cost ten times more than the booze the monsters would’ve drank, but…”

The owner waved his hand toward the back of the tavern.

A little boy, no older than six, came barreling out of the kitchen. “Dad!” he cheered, crashing into the tavern owner’s legs.

The large man smiled, gently ruffling the boy’s hair. “My son was playing in the street that day. He made it out without a scratch because Chase didn’t hesitate.”

The Black Teal’s Foot mage stared at the laughing child, the wind completely knocked out of his sails.

“Look at it this way, kid,” another patron called out, raising his glass. “When Chase is around, the safest times feel like a warzone, but the most dangerous times are the safest you’ll ever be!”

“Just make sure you dodge when he starts casting!” someone else chimed in, sending the entire tavern into a fit of roaring laughter.

RUMBLE.

The heavy wooden mugs rattled against the tables. The floorboards vibrated violently, shaking the dust from the rafters.

The laughter in the tavern cut off instantly.

Everyone recognized that heavy, rhythmic, devastating thud.

“Damn it! That bastard Chase is back!”

“He’s riding that giant rock monster through the main street again, isn’t he?!”

“Does he not know how to walk?! I swear, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!”

Chairs scraped violently against the floor as the patrons surged toward the tavern doors, rolling up their sleeves and shouting colorful curses into the morning air.

The Black Teal’s Foot mage followed them out, standing on the porch as the massive, stone-carved legs of the Giant Soldier of Stone stomped past the buildings.

He watched the locals. They were shaking their fists, screaming insults at the towering rock giant and the mage riding atop its shoulder.

But as he looked closer, he saw it.

Beneath the angry shouting, every single person in the crowd had a bright, relieved smile on their face. Their eyes crinkled with genuine warmth.

So this is it, the young mage thought, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. This is how an S-Class Mage of Fairy Tail really connects with his city.

“Compared to him… I’ve still got a long way to go.”

He let out a long, heavy breath, picked up his mug from the table inside, and downed the ale in one long gulp.

He didn’t run out to block the street. He didn’t scream for a rematch. Instead, he pulled his coat tight, lowered his head, and quietly walked away, disappearing into the morning mist at the end of the street.