"Since it's all settled, let's head back."
Makarov spoke up. He never liked prying into details. If everyone was fine, then they could happily go home.
Moen glanced once more at the place where the others had disappeared. He nodded, saying nothing, and began walking toward Magnolia, clutching the spellbook Memories Time Machine tightly.
Only Natsu still looked visibly shaken. He had really been a bit scared. Those were two terrifying monsters, especially the white one with a cat tail!
"Did those terrifying guys get beaten by you, Moen-nii?"
Natsu asked quietly, looking up at Moen.
"Beaten isn't exactly the word, but they probably won't come here again."
Moen replied with a smile. Hearing this, Natsu finally let out a sigh of relief.
"That's great! As expected of Moen-nii!"
Natsu exclaimed, finally feeling reassured. He wouldn't have to worry about those two terrifying monsters anymore!
Cheerful again, Natsu shrugged off all the unpleasantness and bounced ahead to lead the way.
Watching this, Moen thought that Natsu's falls weren't that serious after all.
It made sense—this little guy was tough and resilient, not easily injured.
Especially these bruises and scrapes, which were nothing to Natsu. Even injuries from fighting Gray were probably worse.
Yet, this boy truly trusted him. Whatever Moen said, Natsu believed without question, asking nothing about the details. His principle was simple: if Moen said it, he believed it.
Seeing the carefree Natsu, Moen smiled. If there were more kids like him in the guild, the future would be extremely bright.
[Ding!
Task "Visitors Across Time" completed!
Task Progress:
Help all companions from the future return. (Completed)
Would you like to claim the task reward?]
On the way back, the task completion interface popped up.
The task result was naturally fully successful. Moen did not hesitate and immediately chose to claim the reward.
This time, the reward was a random Silver Saint skill.
Moen was genuinely curious about this reward because he really didn't know much about Silver Saint abilities.
[Congratulations! Black Wing Shaft skill unlocked!]
The pop-up appeared, and a stream of knowledge flooded Moen's mind, giving him a clear idea of the unfamiliar name.
Black Wing Shaft: trap the enemy with the black feathers of a crow, then fly from above to kick them. During the move, the body is like a feather, and the kicking leg strikes like a feather quill piercing the enemy.
This technique, from the "Corvus Constellation Silver Saint," was a leg-based move with a certain control ability.
For Moen, this was certainly a solid supplementary skill.
What was most surprising, however, was its secondary effect: it granted Moen the ability to "command crows"!
Oh no, won't Grandpa Makarov think I'm a spy?
Seeing this ability, Moen's first thought was this. Crows weren't a good sign, especially for the Dreyar family.
Moen glanced at the drunken Makarov beside him. The old man always smiled and seemed carefree.
But Moen knew Grandpa Makarov had his own worries. In the Dreyar household, mentioning crows usually meant "that man," Moen's rather indifferent father, Ivan Dreyar.
After being expelled from the Fairy Tail guild, Ivan Dreyar set up the dark guild "Raven Tail," aimed at direct opposition.
Grandpa Makarov hated this guild. He wished he could find its location immediately and crush it, cleaning house thoroughly.
His hatred stemmed partly from that useless son, who committed wrongs without remorse and dared to create a dark guild. Makarov truly wished he were more capable.
Secondly, this son had also negatively influenced his grandson!
Laxus had previously said in anger that he wanted to join his father's guild—the "Raven Tail." This was something Grandpa Makarov found hard to accept.
All these factors combined, fueling Makarov's deep resentment for the "Raven Tail." Many in the guild shared this sentiment; Gildarts was one of them.
However, Moen felt that no one would hold any grudges against him simply because of the ability to "command crows."
Gah!
Moen waved his hand, and a crow with jet-black feathers flew from the forest, landing obediently on his arm.
This caught the attention of Makarov and Natsu, who both gathered around, curious.
"Where did this bird come from? How is it so obedient?"
Makarov asked, curious but not startled by it being a crow, maintaining a normal attitude.
Buzz!
Moen's magic surged over the crow, causing its body to grow under the power, transforming it into a large, raptor-sized crow!
"This is my new Celestial Spirit Magic ability—commanding crows."
Moen explained openly.
"Cool! Can it carry people to fly?"
Natsu asked eagerly.
"If it can fly, would that count as a vehicle?"
Moen asked back, leaving Natsu silent, clearly thinking seriously about the question.
Makarov looked at Moen with a strange expression. He thought, this unlucky kid, is he learning this magic just to tease me? And he calls it a new Celestial Spirit Magic ability…
"What's this magic good for?"
Makarov asked. A magic that could command and strengthen specific creatures was rare. Finding such a skill was impressive.
"Want to try it?"
Moen invited the old man to test it, curious about the skill's practical effect.
"Sure, let me see."
Makarov said, holding his bottle. Drunk as he appeared, it wouldn't affect his combat ability at all.
"Black Wing Shaft!"
Moen didn't say anything further, immediately executing "Black Wing Shaft."
He leaped into the sky, and the giant crow directly rushed toward Makarov. Its feathers quickly scattered, raining down on Makarov, tightly binding him.
At this point, Moen only needed to swiftly fall and kick.
Buzz!
Before Moen's legs even struck, Makarov's magic erupted, sending the black feathers flying.
Moen halted the follow-up skill and landed. He realized this skill couldn't control a strong opponent like Grandpa Makarov.
Makarov's raw magical power alone had broken the control—a pure display of overwhelming stats.
"This ability is strange, it suffocates me."
Grandpa Makarov commented, slightly surprised, his evaluation not low.
The black feather covering itself was enough to intimidate. Once someone was trapped, even breathing became difficult. Ordinary people unable to break free would be at the mercy of others.
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