Noel slowly opened his eyes, only to find himself lying inside a small wooden cabin.
Why am I here?
Wasn't I collapsed at Onibus Station?
"Ow…" he groaned as he tried to sit up from the bed.
The room was unfamiliar—he had no recollection of ever being in a place like this.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Standing at the entrance was a stern-looking elderly woman with soft pink hair. Her sharp gaze carried no warmth. Deep lines furrowed her brow, making her appear all the more severe.
What stood out the most was her long crimson robe, with a high collar adorned by dragon fangs—likely some kind of traditional or mystical ornament.
Noel, having brewed many potions himself, had a sharp sense for medicinal scents. The subtle aroma clinging to the woman told him everything—she was clearly an apothecary.
A potion master living deep in the woods… and connected to Fairy Tail…
One name surfaced in Noel's mind: Porlyusica, the reclusive consultant and healer for the Fairy Tail Guild.
Porlyusica's frown deepened as she approached him.
"You're still recovering. Lie back down," she said sternly, helping him settle into bed again.
"Don't move unless you want your wounds reopening. Honestly, young people—so careless with their own bodies."
She let out a grumble.
"Humans are such a bother."
"S-Senior Porlyusica, where… where am I?" Noel asked with an awkward smile.
"You know me?" she looked genuinely surprised.
She rarely left the forest, and even within the guild, few had seen her in person.
"The Master mentioned a powerful apothecary who lived in a cabin deep in the woods," Noel explained.
"I figured that might be you."
"I see…" Porlyusica nodded slightly, accepting his logic.
"Did you save me?" Noel asked.
"Someone dragged you here, begging me to help," she replied coldly. "I had no choice."
Noel wasn't sure how to interact with this sharp-tongued woman. She didn't exactly give off a welcoming vibe.
"When did you wake up?" Porlyusica asked.
"Just now," Noel replied, still confused about everything.
"How's your body feeling? Any issues?"
"I feel much better. My leg's still a bit sore, but nothing too serious," Noel said, rubbing his calf.
Porlyusica stared at him for a moment.
"Your body's strange… You suffered serious injuries, yet there's a strange energy in you that's accelerating your recovery."
"If it weren't for that energy, you'd still be unconscious," she added, almost in disbelief.
A strange energy…
Noel thought for a moment—It must be Tias' blessing.
A knock came from the door.
Porlyusica sighed and reluctantly opened it—out of courtesy more than anything.
But the moment she saw who it was, her regret was immediate.
"Makarov! How many times have I told you—I hate the smell of humans!"
A broomstick materialized in Porlyusica's hand, and she immediately began whacking the short old man in the doorway.
Despite being one of the Ten Wizard Saints, Makarov was utterly defenseless against her broom attacks.
Are all apothecaries this terrifying now? Noel thought, struggling not to laugh.
Maybe one day, apothecaries really will save the world.
"How's Noel doing?" Makarov asked between swats.
"I promised Mond I'd look after him, and now he's injured this badly… I can't help but feel responsible."
"He's recovering well," Porlyusica replied curtly. "So stop bothering me. I need peace and quiet."
Though still worried, Makarov wisely backed out of the cabin. He trusted Porlyusica's skills.
If she said Noel would be fine, then that was enough.
With a loud slam, she shut the door again.
The air inside the cabin settled slightly, though the presence of "one human" still seemed to annoy her.
Porlyusica glanced over at Noel again and sighed.
"Young people—always rushing headfirst into danger. One day, you'll regret it."
Noel knew exactly who she meant—himself.
He'd been reckless. If he had simply run away, none of this would've happened.
But then again, that wasn't an option.
His pride as a mage would never allow it.
He lay still as Porlyusica prepared more potions.
Clinking sounds echoed from the glassware, and the aroma of herbs filled the room.
Before long, she brought over a freshly brewed potion and handed it to him.
He took the vial—it gave off a clean, fresh scent, not unlike an antidote.
It looked far better than any potion he'd ever made himself.
Most of his own brews ended up as murky, black sludge.
He took a sip—and was surprised by the pleasant taste.
Almost immediately, the blackened burn on his leg began to fade, and the pain all but vanished.
"How do you feel now?" Porlyusica asked coolly.
"I feel alive again," Noel replied sincerely.
"In that case, maybe you can stop hogging my bed?"
With one swift motion, she yanked off the covers—effectively evicting him.
Noel blinked, stunned by the sudden shift in tone.
Still, it was clear—his body had recovered.
"And tell Makarov," Porlyusica added with a grumble,
"If he sends me another patient, I won't be so kind. You people treat your lives like they're nothing."
Noel limped to the door, opening it to find Makarov waiting patiently outside.
"How are you feeling? Are you okay?" the Master asked, concerned.
"I'm fine now. I should be able to move around normally."
"Good."
Makarov finally relaxed.
"But who did this to you?" he asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"I never got his name," Noel answered. "But I remember what he looked like—dark skin, white hair, a long coat, a staff in hand, and strange markings on his face."
"...It was him?" Makarov murmured, surprised.
He recognized the description. The man had once been with the Council's Magic Development Bureau.
"You know him?" Noel asked.
Makarov's expression hardened.
"This isn't something you need to worry about anymore. Some matters… are better left to adults."
Noel could tell there was more to it—but he didn't press.
The two of them returned to the guild, where chaos had clearly erupted in their absence.
But under Makarov's firm grip, peace was soon restored to Fairy Tail once more.
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