The sound of shattering glass exploded through the carriage, instantly drawing every passenger's attention.
"You really threw Gray out?"
Erza leaned toward the window in alarm. Cold wind howled in through the broken pane, whipping her scarlet hair into a frenzy.
Around them, passengers stared in horror at Shane, who calmly sat back down and settled deeper into the cushioned seat, widening the distance between themselves and him.
"Relax," Shane said, shifting into a more comfortable position as if nothing had happened. "The train hadn't fully picked up speed. I used a bit of finesse. He'll be fine."
He wasn't heartless enough to use Gray to break the window.
First he broke the glass, then sent Gray out—that line he still held.
As soon as he finished, he turned his gaze to the train staff rushing over, face perfectly composed.
Shane raised his right hand and showed the Fairy Tail emblem on the back of it. "A dark guild mage slipped onto the train. Don't worry, I've already removed him."
In Magnolia, that mark carried more weight than any ID.
It didn't just represent credibility—it also represented a very… distinctive way of doing things.
Sure enough, the panic on the passengers' faces slowly shifted to understanding. A few even nodded gratefully, murmuring, "Thank you," and "We're lucky you were here."
As if hurling someone bodily out of a moving train was just another routine part of a mage's job.
Shane scratched his cheek with a shy little smile. "No, no. It's what our guild is supposed to do."
Erza leaned in and lowered her voice. "Are you sure this is okay? Lying like that… won't it hurt the guild's reputation?"
"We're doing this to protect Gray. I'm sure the master will understand," Shane replied just as quietly, still smiling. "Besides, as long as Gray doesn't talk, who's going to know?"
Erza nodded thoughtfully. To protect a comrade, sometimes it was acceptable to use force—or a nonstandard method.
She felt she'd learned something from Shane again. And she agreed with it.
"The master might understand—I don't!"
A shout, half wind and half fury, tore in from outside.
They turned toward the window and saw Gray, half his body frozen to the exterior of the carriage, clinging desperately to the frame as he tried to haul himself back in.
Shane stood with a completely blank face.
Gray's gut clenched. He was honestly scared now—Shane was the type who would do anything.
"Wait! I was wrong!" he yelled, voice warped by the wind. "Let me come with you. I'll behave! I won't act on my own! If you don't— I'll tell the master you threw me off the train!"
Shane raised an eyebrow. "You've learned to threaten people now?"
Gray's face flushed bright red. For a self-styled "mature mage," it was a low tactic.
He frantically reassured himself: It's all for Master Ur. Once I'm strong enough, I'm absolutely going to beat Shane black and blue for this.
Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—don't look down on the young.
He stiffened his neck, avoiding Shane's eyes, and muttered, "Just let me in already."
Shane took his time. "Really no acting on your own? You'll listen to orders?"
Hearing the softened tone, Gray nodded quickly, terrified he'd change his mind. "Really! I promise!"
Shane sighed and stepped aside from the window.
The kid was stubborn as a mule. If he didn't let him in, he'd probably come up with some even more ridiculous stunt. Better to keep him where he could see him.
Once Gray had scrambled inside, dripping cold and miserable, Shane turned to the curious passengers and said calmly, "Just a misunderstanding. It's been taken care of."
Just a misunderstanding—and he'd thrown the guy off the train? The passengers swallowed hard and quickly looked away, pretending nothing had happened.
Gray, to his credit, immediately pressed his hands to the broken frame and poured mana into it.
Frost spread; in moments, a clear ice window formed, sealing the hole seamlessly.
The cold wind cut off; the carriage slowly began to warm again.
Shane, sitting by the window, wasn't the least bit grateful. He slumped in his seat, annoyed. If I'd known it'd end like this, I never would've answered him at the guild door.
Erza, however, ran her fingers over the smooth ice and said with genuine admiration, "That's a really convenient magic."
At that, something sparked in Gray's mind.
He held up his left palm and pressed his right fist into it.
White frost gathered; a perfectly carved Fairy Tail emblem of ice bloomed in his hand.
He glanced sideways at Shane, a hint of competitiveness in his voice. "How does that compare to Ultear?"
Shane really didn't feel like moving. The Phantasm he'd shown Erza earlier had cost him plenty, and the whole mental wrestling match with Gray had drained him further. If he didn't have to shift, he wouldn't.
After a long pause, he cracked one eye open and gave it a lazy glance. "Ultear's ice roses are much more detailed than that. And at least they can barely block one of my arrows."
The implication was obvious.
Compared to Ultear's "flashy but impractical," Gray's Ice-Make wasn't even flashy.
"I'm Ur's strongest student. No way I lose to her," Gray muttered, unconvinced.
But faced with Shane's "can't be bothered to argue" posture, the protest sounded a bit weak.
Shane didn't even bother rolling his eyes—just shifted in his seat, searching for a more comfortable position.
Beside him, Erza stiffened slightly. Her gaze dropped to her lap.
She hesitated, wanting to offer her thighs as a pillow. It'd surely be more comfortable for him.
But when he didn't ask, she pursed her lips and stayed quiet, just straightening her back.
Silence fell, broken only by the steady clatter of the train.
Gray, bored, turned to look out through his own ice window at the scenery whipping by.
His craft really was good—the ice was pure and clear; the view was barely distorted at all.
Suddenly he made a soft "Huh?" and leaned closer, eyes narrowing.
He kicked Shane's leg under the table and said, voice uncertain, "Hey, Shane. Look over there—Isn't that Ivan?"
Shane's languid body tensed at the name.
He sat up and followed Gray's pointing finger.
On the abandoned path running parallel to the tracks, a tall man in a dark coat and full beard walked at an unhurried pace.
He kept his head down; the brim of his hat hid most of his face. But that heavy, gloomy air was unmistakable.
"The master's son… what's he doing here?" Shane muttered.
Before he could think it through, the train had already thundered past, leaving Ivan's figure far behind.
~~~
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