Wendy, tears streaming down her face, turned and left together with Moen, Makarov, and Jellal. She kept glancing back from time to time at everyone waving goodbye, as if afraid she would never see them again.
"Don't be sad, Wendy. You can come visit everyone at Cait Shelter often."
Moen gently patted Wendy's head, speaking softly to comfort her.
"Mm, I know, Brother Moen."
Wendy looked up at him, tears in her eyes, but her expression was resolute as she nodded.
"Today's farewell is for a better reunion next time."
Wendy wiped her tears and repeated the comforting words Moen had told her before.
This child had truly taken in the encouragement Moen had given her and could even apply it to comfort herself.
Although she always liked to cry, shedding tears at the slightest provocation like a little crybaby, there was actually a strand of resilience within Wendy's personality.
"That's right, it's just a temporary parting."
Moen nodded with a smile. He and Grandpa Makarov tacitly decided not to tell Wendy the truth, leaving Roubaul's act intact.
They resolved to wait until Wendy grew older and her ability to accept the truth was stronger before considering whether to reveal it.
As for Roubaul suddenly passing away or Cait Shelter vanishing collectively, that would certainly not happen in the near future.
Powerful wizards generally have long lifespans. Grandpa Makarov, at eighty-one, was so robust that even Moen wouldn't dare claim to be healthier, and there were wizards over a hundred who remained active. Being a wizard was a profession that grew more formidable with age.
Moen believed this was closely related to the concept of magic. All things possessed magic, which was intricately connected to life force, soul, and will. Wizards, with their deep magic, naturally had longer lifespans than ordinary people.
Beside Moen, Jellal had remained silent, a puzzled expression on his face. He furrowed his brow, trying hard to recall, but no matter how he searched his memory, he could not recall anything related to Cait Shelter.
The night he brought Wendy to Roubaul, he had searched the dilapidated village and had only found Roubaul himself.
"Speaking of when I brought Wendy to the village… sniff sniff!"
As Jellal began to speak, Moen immediately reached out and covered his mouth.
"You've already seen them when you arrived at the village! Everyone from Cait Shelter, right?"
Moen glared at Jellal, emphasizing the words with a serious tone and stressing "seen."
"Seen them?"
Jellal looked astonished. After Moen released his mouth, he hesitated slightly as he asked.
"Yep… that counts!"
Moen nodded heavily, his gaze signaling Jellal.
"Alright… I did see them."
Jellal understood and immediately corrected himself.
This strange exchange left Wendy wide-eyed. She found it odd but couldn't pinpoint why.
"Jellal, we're heading to the guild soon, entering the city. I think there are a few things I should tell you in advance."
Makarov interjected at the right moment, steering the conversation.
All three of them looked at Makarov. Makarov spoke with a serious tone, as if about to reveal something important. Jellal listened carefully, his expression earnest.
"The Edolas world is a parallel world to the Earth Land. That means, in this world, you may encounter many familiar people. But they only look like the people from that world—they are not the same individuals."
Makarov stared at Jellal and spoke sternly, believing it necessary to remind him. Otherwise, this honest child might be deceived by others.
"So that's how it is!"
After hearing Makarov, Jellal's expression brightened in sudden understanding.
No wonder! No wonder he always felt that Master Makarov looked familiar!
The master of Fairy Tail and his father—the king of Edolas—looked really similar!
Although there were minor differences, Jellal would not mistake them. Master Makarov bore a high resemblance to his father!
However, Jellal didn't speak of this, as he considered it somewhat disrespectful toward Makarov, though he had to admit his father was not a good man.
This allowed Jellal to deeply understand Makarov's words. Sure enough, it was merely a physical resemblance; everything else—personality, character—was completely different.
"Then should I conceal my appearance? And change my name to one suitable for this world?"
Jellal asked. Covering his face and changing his name seemed the easiest way to avoid unnecessary trouble.
Jellal was stubborn by nature. He disliked causing trouble for others because of himself. He didn't want to add complications for this world's "Jellal." Even though the chance of meeting him was low, he didn't want to take the risk.
"I think that's fine. Less trouble is always better."
Moen supported the idea, knowing Jellal disliked hassles.
"How about calling you Mystogan? A gun that can release a sleep-inducing mist… your sleep magic left a deep impression on me."
Moen suggested the name casually, observing Jellal's reaction, but found none.
This differed from Moen's expectation. So Mystogan was not Jellal's original name?
"Mystogan? Sounds good."
Jellal's eyes brightened. He liked the name—it connected to his magic and had no relation to Jellal himself.
"Then it's decided. From now on, please call me Mystogan."
Without hesitation, Jellal chose the name "Mystogan," surprising Moen.
"So… I actually gave Jellal his name?"
Moen was astonished, unable to grasp the causal chain.
Had Jellal always been called Mystogan, or did the name exist because of him?
Sigh… too complicated, let it be.
Moen shook his head, no longer pondering the complex question of cause and effect.
"Mystogan, you have to work hard. I'm increasingly looking forward to going to the Edolas world. Meeting another version of myself there—thinking about it is actually quite interesting."
Moen patted Mystogan's shoulder. He was curious about this parallel world, wondering if someone like him existed there.