Before Shane could respond, a voice thick with teasing came from behind them.
"Heh-heh-heh… so this is where you two were hiding."
"On a secret date, are we?"
They turned around. Makarov Dreyar stood a short distance away with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a wicked grin. Behind him were two elderly men.
"Master? Why are you here?" Erza immediately set down her fruit tart and sprang to her feet, respectful and formal.
Erza had always treated Makarov with serious respect—which was exactly why he'd been so frustrated lately. Watching a well-behaved, sensible kid slowly get "corrupted" would give anyone a headache.
"Can't be helped," Makarov said cheerfully. "An old friend of mine is still sore that his guild's guy got beaten. He insisted on coming to see what this famous 'newcomer' actually looks like."
He stepped aside, revealing the two men behind him.
"So this is the rookie who beat our guild's Bacchus Groh? You really are as young as the rumors say…" One of the old men looked Erza up and down. He had a wildly distinctive style—sunglasses despite his age, and a spiked, rock-star choker around his neck. "Tsk. Little Makarov, your luck really never changes."
The other elder, smaller and gentler-looking, smiled warmly. "You're always finding such outstanding children for the guild."
"You are…?" Erza asked hesitantly, studying the unfamiliar elders.
Shane had a faint guess, but since Makarov had brought them, he didn't want to steal the spotlight.
Makarov didn't bother with suspense. He pointed at the man in sunglasses. "This is Bob—"
"Wait, what?" Shane blinked.
Makarov coughed and corrected himself with a scowl, jabbing his finger again. "No, no. This one is Goldmine—the master of Quatro Cerberus. He's the boss of that drunk Bacchus you ran into."
Then he looked to the smaller elder. "And this one's even more impressive: Yajima, the current Sixth Seat of the Magic Council. A lot of the intel about Brian—and plenty of guild-related messes—only got smoothed over because he helped. You two should thank him properly."
"Master Goldmine… Yajima-san?" Erza's eyes lit up. She stepped forward and bowed formally. "I've heard of you! You're the senpai guild legends who used to adventure with Grandpa Rob, right?"
"Oh?" Goldmine's eyes widened slightly behind his shades. "You know that brute Rob? How's he doing these days?"
"Brute?" Shane's mouth twitched. He couldn't reconcile that word with the thin, gentle old man who loved telling kids stories.
Shane stepped in. "Um… Grandpa Rob is traveling around these days, I think. He seems to be doing great."
"I see… good." Goldmine nodded, a little nostalgic. "Yeah, that brute's been at retirement age for a while. He deserves the rest."
Yajima noticed Shane's increasingly weird expression and chuckled. "Don't be too surprised, young man. Rob used to be… very different from what you're imagining."
With a magician's flourish, he pulled out an old photograph and handed it to them. "Take a look."
"H-Hey! Yajima, why are you carrying that around?!" Makarov instantly put on an exaggeratedly bashful act. "How embarrassing—put it away!"
"Quit whining. Let the kids see your glory days," Yajima said, ignoring him and holding the photo.
Shane and Erza leaned in.
It was a group photo: five men and one woman, taken in front of a guild building. Everyone looked young, cocky, and full of life.
"Let's see…" Shane pointed at a guy in a studded leather jacket, looking rebellious as hell. "That's Master Goldmine, right? The vibe hasn't changed one bit."
"Correct," Goldmine said proudly, chin lifting. "Cool, right?"
Erza pointed at the short blond in the center. "And that's obviously Master."
"Uh… ahem." Makarov coughed, ears turning red.
"And this one, about the same height… must be Yajima-¥¥[," Erza said, matter-of-fact.
That left the others.
The pink-haired woman was easy to ignore for the moment. What remained were: a handsome young man in a crisp suit; a serious-looking pink-haired beauty; and—
A towering, broad-shouldered, muscle-packed monster of a man, with white hair and beard, standing in the back like a human fortress.
Shane and Erza stared, then slowly looked from the beefcake… to their memory of Grandpa Rob… then back again.
"Don't tell me…" Shane started.
"Yep! Didn't see that coming, did you?" Yajima laughed, rubbing the photo fondly. "Rob was a full-on brawler when he was young. Normally he had a good temper, but in a fight? He went feral. That's why we called him a 'brute.'"
"The gap is insane…" Shane clicked his tongue. Time really was a butcher's knife.
Then his curiosity took over. "So who are the other two?"
Goldmine—surprisingly—answered this time, and he sounded way too pleased with himself. "The guy in the suit, that 'pretty boy,' is the master of Blue Pegasus—Bob."
He smirked. "Fun fact: these days he's completely out of shape—fat as hell—and he's gotten… how should I put it… way more girly."
Yajima produced a newer photo like he'd been waiting for this moment: a bald, burly man in a pink camisole, posing delicately.
Shane's face went through several stages of crisis. Erza grabbed his hand like her life depended on it—an urgent silent warning: Do. Not. Laugh.
"And the last one…" Goldmine's finger slid to the pink-haired woman in the old photo, and his grin turned wicked. "That's Makarov's old flame—Porlyusica. They were real close."
"PFF—" Shane nearly choked.
"Old flame?!" he sputtered.
"HEY! Goldmine! Don't say garbage like that in front of the kids!" Makarov exploded, face and neck turning crimson. "What old flame?! That was— That was a bad fate! A bad fate, got it?!"
"Sure, sure. Like a married couple that never stops fighting," Yajima added pleasantly, twisting the knife. "She lives in the forest east of Magnolia now, by the way. A very talented pharmacist."
"Pink hair… pharmacist… forest…" Shane froze.
His brain instantly pulled up the image of that foul-mouthed, broom-swinging old lady deep in the woods.
"…That's her?!" Shane blurted before he could stop himself.
So that terrifying granny was Makarov's "bad fate"?!
The vibes did not match. At all.
"Alright, enough! Why are we dredging up ancient history in front of the kids?!" Makarov snapped, clearly desperate to bury the topic—especially after catching Shane's barely-contained expression.
Shane wanted to laugh so badly his ribs hurt, but he remembered last night's "mud incident" and how Makarov had taken the heat for him.
So he clamped down hard, pretending he'd seen absolutely nothing.
After a few more minutes of three-centuries' worth of old-man bickering, Makarov glanced at the sky and started shooing them away.
"Alright, you've met the kids, you've reminisced, whatever. If there's anything else, say it now. I still have to prepare for tonight's magical parade—I don't have time to entertain you freeloaders!"
"Nothing else," Goldmine shrugged. "Yajima and I were going to swing by the forest and see Porlyusica anyway. You coming?"
"Not a chance!" Makarov folded his arms. "If I go, she'll just yell 'I hate humans!' and 'Get lost!' and chase me out. I'm not looking for that kind of misery."
"I hate humans…" Shane blinked again. He'd heard that exact line the last time he brought a fruit basket. So she was equally awful to everyone. Fair.
"Out, out, out!" Makarov shoved them toward the exit, clearly regretting ever inviting them.
Erza bowed properly. "Yes, Master. Safe travels. Seniors, safe travels."
They walked a few steps… then Makarov suddenly stopped and turned back, voice turning strangely encouraging.
"Oh, right—Erza."
"The S-class mage exam… only has one passing slot each year."
"If you really want to become S-class…" His eyes sharpened. "Even if your opponent is a companion—be ready. No hesitation."
~~~
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