Worried Brain might stir up some new trouble, Shane had been thinking of acting for a while now.
He'd only stayed in Magnolia out of caution—waiting until he'd confirmed Senji Muramasa's True Name.
Erza's heart had been tight too.
She didn't want to see more kids suffer what they had in the Tower of Heaven. She'd just kept quiet so she wouldn't put more pressure on Shane.
Now that she heard his plan matched her own thoughts, the last bit of forced coolness on her face melted away.
She turned her slightly wide eyes toward the black-haired boy beside her—his gaze still a bit dead-fishy…
Her pupils gleamed in the sunlight; there wasn't a trace of anger left.
Seeing how quickly she'd flipped, Shane couldn't resist teasing. He poked the soft spot at her waist with a finger. "What's this? Not mad at me anymore?"
Apparently that was a ticklish spot.
She flinched and glared like a offended young lion, but there wasn't much bite in it—just a kind of fake fierceness that looked more cute than scary.
"Who—who's mad?" she shot back too quickly, then forcibly dragged the topic back on track. "Are we leaving today?"
"Guild first," Shane said, losing the joking tone. "Acting on our own will just worry the old man. And hearing his opinion never hurts."
"Right." Erza nodded right away and turned. They walked toward Fairy Tail side by side.
Wind stirred the streets, rattling dry branches and filling the air with soft rustling.
As they walked, Erza found her eyes drifting to Shane's.
They'd returned to their normal color—no longer burning with that unsettling fire.
"By the way," she couldn't hold back any longer, "I asked before we sparred—what exactly do those 'burning' eyes do? You still haven't answered."
Shane stared straight ahead. "That's not a power you can 'pull punches' with once you use it."
In his mind, the Book's description of the Eyes of Karma flickered up—
A variation of Clairvoyance—Future Sight. But instead of predicting the future, it sees "the karma and causal lines behind things."
It came from a lifetime spent staring into the forge, reading the "burden of karma" in steel.
He thought a moment, choosing his words. "Put simply, it lets me see… special things."
"Special?" Erza pressed, fully hooked.
"For example: the invisible 'lines' on someone."
He traced in the air with a fingertip. "Lines that tie together cause, effect, and sin. When someone tries some trick to make themselves 'untouchable'… what I see is just a key line getting cut, temporarily."
Erza frowned, working through it. "So… you can reconnect that line?"
"More like I can see where it broke—and then force the cause and effect back together with my blade."
He glanced at her. "Which means some defenses and dodges that look perfect… no longer matter."
"If I had to put a name on it… 'Invincible Penetration,' maybe," he added, finding the phrase weirdly fitting.
Erza was quietly shaken. Ignoring defenses, reading karmic cause and effect… it was practically tailored to beat the strong.
"No wonder you didn't use it…" she murmured, understanding.
If he'd used that ability in their spar, she really might have been "one-shot."
Talking, they stepped into the guild. The hall was as noisy as ever.
Wakaba was arguing with Macao, both waving their mugs, while Cana played cards in the corner. With business on their minds, Shane didn't stop; he led Erza straight to the bar.
"Master."
Makarov looked up from his drink. "Oh? You two. What's up?"
"I want to go back to that seaside city," Shane said bluntly.
At once, the old man's brows knotted into a deep line.
"You're going now?" He set his mug down, voice serious. "You're not going to wait for more intel from the Council? Or… wait for Gildarts to return? With him, it'd be much safer."
Shane shook his head, firm. "Gildarts is on an S-Class mission. No telling when he'll be back—and that's if nothing 'unexpected' delays him."
He knew the man's reputation all too well. The guy could just as easily end up drunk and unconscious halfway there. By the time he staggered back, it'd be too late for anything.
Makarov still looked troubled; his next look went to Shane. "Brain was Director of the Bureau of Magical Development. The magic he commands is beyond counting. If you run into him, at your current level—"
"I just had a breakthrough," Shane said, cutting him off calmly. "I'm stronger now."
That stopped the old man cold. His eyes shifted to Erza. "And Er—"
"I tested her just now," Shane jumped in again. "She can stand on her own—strong enough to help, not a burden."
Makarov's eyes bulged, mustache bristling. "You're leaving me nothing to say. Why bother asking me at all?!"
Erza glanced sideways at Shane. After getting crushed that hard, all that was just a "test"…? The thought left a little knot of indignation in her chest.
"I'm here because I did think it through," Shane said, gaze steady.
They stared at each other. At last, Makarov sighed and waved a hand.
"Fine. Your minds are made up. Anything more out of me is just nagging. Go. You know what 'be careful' means—I don't need to say it."
At Shane's current strength, the only one in the guild who could really aid him besides Gildarts was his own son, Ivan.
But that son wanted nothing to do with him.
For the first time, Makarov felt, clearly, how much weaker the guild was under him than under the Second.
Thankfully, there were still good sprouts.
Guard them, he thought. Guard them until they grow enough to guard others…
"I have one more thing," Shane said, not noticing the flicker of sadness on the old man's face. "Does the guild have any lacrima lying around unused? I'd like to take two."
"Lacrima?" Makarov asked, surprised. "We've got some stock. Not many use them. What for?"
Shane rubbed finger and thumb together, making a tiny pinch gesture.
"I know just a little bit of smithing," he said. "Figured I'd forge Erza a pair of better weapons."
Makarov raised a brow. He knew the kid had been tinkering with forging; had he really managed something?
"Fine. Pick them yourself. Take whatever you like," he said, waving expansively.
Shane knew guild rules didn't allow members to borrow money, but since the master hadn't mentioned payment, this was clearly a gift.
To ease his own conscience, he added, "We'll pick up a job on the way. If we get the chance, we'll knock it out—call it paying for the lacrima."
Makarov only grunted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Shane led Erza to the guild warehouse.
In a corner stacked with supplies, he carefully chose two high-quality lacrima.
One held a faint purple glow—imbued with anti-magic properties. The other was dense, gleaming with a metallic luster, renowned for toughness.
He planned to use the first for a slim sword to cut through spells, and the second for a heavy blade meant to smash through anything head-on.
Selection done, they were heading for the door when they nearly collided with Gray coming in.
Gray's eyes lit up the moment he saw Shane. He clapped an arm over his shoulder.
"Hey, Shane! Perfect timing. Come on, I'm buying you a meal! I promised, and it's been way too long. Gotta make good today!"
After a month and change, he still remembered. Shane was a little touched.
Then he flicked Gray a solid knuckle-flick to the forehead. "And it has been too long. You're just now remembering?"
"Ow! Shane, what the hell!" Gray clutched his head and glared.
"Keep that debt in mind," Shane said with a half-scolding grin. "Erza and I have business outside town. When we're back, we're cashing in. Try to dodge, and I'll flick your head every day for a week."
With that, he waved Erza along.
Just as he was about to slip past, Gray—who had somehow lost his shirt yet again—suddenly remembered something and grabbed his arm.
"Wait! I forgot to ask last time. That girl you mentioned—the one who uses Ice-Make. Can you tell me more about her?"
~~~
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