Considering how the Heroic Spirit visions were becoming more and more lifelike—so vivid they'd even started showing signs of bleeding into reality—Shane had no intention of hoarding the hard-earned authority he'd finally gotten, the way he used to when he was chasing a stronger Servant.
He had a different plan.
"Once I pay off the debt and free up some time… I need to find somewhere deserted and spend this authority right away," Shane calculated.
That city-wide "black mud" incident had left him shaken.
He had a strong feeling that the next Lancer vision might be especially dangerous.
So he decided to run an experiment.
He wanted to use this authority in advance for a normal summon—nothing extreme—and see whether Heroic Spirits called from the "shallow pool" would also trigger this trend of visions turning real, or even "materializing."
If this "side effect" only happened as a rare exception tied to stacking high-level authority…
Then he'd have to rethink how he planned his future trial rewards.
Should he keep all-in'ing into depth, chasing top-tier Heroic Spirits at the risk of losing control?
Or switch strategies—casting a wide net to summon all kinds of utility-focused Heroic Spirits, and using different Noble Phantasms to flexibly handle different situations?
These were questions he'd have to think through carefully.
"Of course… if every Heroic Spirit's vision can materialize, then there's nothing to debate. I'll just have to honestly figure out how to solve it," Shane sighed, feeling that the road ahead was long and heavy.
…
The banquet lasted deep into the night.
The atmosphere was still roaring, but after several high-intensity battles, Shane was already tired.
Still, it was a celebration held for him. As the "main character," he felt awkward leaving early.
He wanted Erza—who was more seriously injured—to go back and rest first, but she stubbornly shook her head, insisting on leaving together.
In the end, it was Makarov—old enough to read people like a book—who spotted how worn out they both were.
"Alright, alright. You two brats, quit forcing it," the old man waved a hand and kindly started shooing them away. "Go back early and rest."
"Is that really okay? Everyone's still in the mood…" Shane felt a little embarrassed, like he was killing the vibe.
But he quickly realized he'd been overthinking it.
When he tentatively said goodbye, the guildmates who were drinking their hearts out just waved him off impatiently.
"Go, go, go! Shane, why are you still here? You can't even drink—what're you doing? Don't block the way, we're going for the barrels!"
"…"
Shane's mouth twitched.
So nobody cared about "main character" status at all—he was just their excuse to throw a drinking party. A convenient tool.
Even if he'd wanted to rest anyway, being dismissed that bluntly still left him with mixed feelings.
"I feel like I have zero S-Class gravitas," Shane sighed as they walked out of the guild.
"Hehe…" Erza couldn't help letting out a small laugh. The smile in her black eyes even outweighed the pallor on her face from her injuries.
"…Yeah. This isn't so bad," Shane said, glancing back at the still-bright guild hall.
If they really started treating him with stiff reverence just because of a title, he honestly wouldn't know what expression to wear.
"Come on. Let's go home."
…
He slept really well.
Finishing a major goal left Shane in a great mood.
But when the morning sun hit his face and he opened his eyes—
a cruel reality splashed him awake like ice water.
"Wait… I still owe more than ten million, don't I?"
In an instant, the sunlight outside didn't feel so lovely anymore.
"Debt really is heavy," he muttered through toothpaste foam, staring at his own miserable reflection like an exhausted office worker.
But then he perked up.
"No—hold on! I'm an S-Class mage now!" Shane spat out the foam, eyes lighting up.
"Before, I could only take the normal jobs on the first floor. Now I'm qualified to go to the guild's second floor and take S-Class requests with way higher pay!"
He'd heard it from Gildarts—the humblebragging master himself.
S-Class jobs were absurdly difficult… but the rewards were absurdly huge too. A few million J as a baseline.
"Let me do the math…" Shane mumbled around his toothbrush, calculating fast.
"If one job is four million… then if I push a little and finish three jobs, I can wipe out the ten-plus million debt and still have plenty left over!"
"At that point, I'd even have enough money to sit at home for half a year, living like a king!"
The dreamy future instantly cured his debt anxiety.
And!
It wasn't just money—there was something even more important.
"The guild master promised: once I became S-Class, he'd give me information about 'demons'!"
From experience, demon-related leads had a high chance of triggering new trials in the Book of Heroic Spirits.
"Tss—!" Shane's eyes gleamed. He hurriedly splashed water on his face and moved to dash out.
"Shane, breakfast is ready."
A cool voice stopped him before he could reach the door.
Erza stood at the kitchen doorway in an apron, hands on her hips. A steaming breakfast was already set out on the table.
"Uh…" Shane halted and obediently turned back to sit down.
He'd assumed she'd sleep in today after getting hurt. Instead, she was up early—and had made him breakfast.
"Um… are your injuries really okay?" Shane asked, genuinely concerned.
"I'm fine." Erza ladled him a bowl of soup, expression calm. "This kind of minor injury goes away after one night's sleep."
After breakfast—
since Shane planned to take S-Class requests upstairs, he wouldn't be teaming with Erza for now.
"Rest at home for a few days," Shane told her. "Heal properly before you take another job."
"I know. Don't worry about me." Erza nodded, but even knowing Shane's strength, she still added quietly, "Just… be careful on your mission."
…
The moment Shane arrived at the guild, he straightened his back and—under everyone's gaze—openly stepped onto the staircase to the second floor.
This time, the hall wasn't like yesterday's party where everyone only cared about drinking.
Countless eyes gathered on him—envy, shock, and awe mixed together.
Only now, with the wooden stairs creaking under his feet, did Shane finally feel it: I'm really S-Class now.
He'd gone upstairs before because of Ivan, but that had been urgent business. This was different—this was legitimate.
"Hey! Shane!"
A shout rang up from below.
Natsu stood on a table, pointing at Shane as he climbed.
"Fight me!"
Shane took one look at Natsu's cocky face and immediately understood what that single-celled brain was thinking.
Natsu probably believed that if he beat a newly promoted S-Class, then he'd "prove" he deserved to be S-Class too.
That kind of simple, brute logic really was peak Natsu.
Shane stopped, leaned over the railing, and grinned.
"Sure. Then come up here."
"Oh! You said it! I'm coming!"
Natsu instantly got fired up, completely forgetting guild rules, and leapt—trying to jump to the second floor.
But—
BAM!
A huge palm appeared out of nowhere and smacked him down midair like a fly.
"Gwah!!"
Natsu screamed and faceplanted onto the floor.
Makarov had stepped out of his office at some point. He blew on his fist calmly.
"Natsu. You can't come up here yet."
"That idiot…" Gray groaned, facepalming.
"And you!"
After dealing with Natsu, Makarov didn't stop. He jumped up and bonked Shane on the head too.
"You'd better act like it! You're S-Class now—an official face of the guild. Try being a little more mature and steady!"
Makarov scolded him.
"But I didn't do anything! He's the one who tried to—" Shane rubbed his forehead, aggrieved.
Seeing Shane get smacked too, Natsu instantly recovered from his misery, clutching his head and grinning like an idiot.
"Enough. Come in."
Makarov shot him a look and turned back into the office.
Shane's eyes lit up.
He hadn't forgotten the real reason. He hurried in after him, rubbing his hands, face full of expectation.
"Master, about what you promised…"
"About demon intel?"
Makarov glanced at him and didn't go back on his word.
"Hmph. Of course you were still thinking about that."
He walked to the desk, rummaged through a drawer, and finally pulled out an older-looking request form, then handed it to Shane.
"Here."
"This…" Shane accepted it, startled. "You prepared this a long time ago?"
Judging by the creases and the color of the paper, this clearly wasn't recent.
"…Sigh." Makarov sat down again, expression turning complicated.
"This is a… special request."
"It's definitely demon-related, and from my judgment, the danger level is absolutely S-Class."
"But the problem is… the client is a poor, remote village. They can't offer proper pay."
"Normally, a request where the risk and reward are this mismatched violates guild policy."
"But I considered your strange obsession with demons…"
Makarov didn't finish the sentence. He hopped onto the desk and patted Shane's shoulder.
"If you don't mind getting the short end of the stick, go do it."
Let the kid grow freely… he thought to himself.
Now that Shane had truly earned S-Class by strength, Makarov no longer had any reason to overprotect him like a fledgling. The chick had wings now.
Shane didn't notice the old man's "dad" feelings.
He immediately unfolded the request form.
[Mission Content: Exterminate the demon occupying the abandoned church in the village]
[Mission Rank: S (Provisional)]
[Reward: 800,000J]
"Eight… eight hundred thousand?!" Shane rubbed his eyes and made sure he wasn't missing a zero.
"This is demon extermination! Why would anyone dare offer this price?!"
S-Class missions usually started at three million J or more. Eight hundred thousand didn't even hit the ceiling of many normal jobs.
He checked the posting date.
It had been sitting there for months.
Clearly, because of the terrible cost-performance ratio and extreme danger, nobody had touched it.
"…"
Shane stared at the thin sheet of paper, heart bleeding.
He was still in the red! He still owed over ten million!
Taking this mission wouldn't clear his debt—and it could drain a ton of time and energy.
But…
Looking at the word "demon," he couldn't bring himself to let go.
"Forget it!"
Shane gritted his teeth and stuffed the request into his clothes like he was swallowing a knife.
"I'll take it!"
~~~
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