Gray trudged along the rocky shoreline, sullenly kicking a pebble.
It tumbled into the sea with a soft plop.
He was seriously considering sneaking back to the Tower of Heaven for a look—but the moment the thought surfaced, an image flashed in his mind of Shane coolly tossing him off a magic train.
A chill crawled up his spine.
"I'll probably get killed afterward…" he muttered, hunching his shoulders. In the end, he chickened out.
With a sigh, he resigned himself and headed back to the small wooden dock where they'd rented the boat.
This time, since it was just coastal waters, he only rented a tiny fishing boat.
It was barely big enough for two or three people. Maybe because he was alone, white seabirds occasionally landed on the bow, tilting their heads and peering at him with beady black eyes, chirping brightly.
The inexplicable peacefulness put him in a better mood.
However, once the boat reached the target area and he looked out at the endless, glittering water, he quickly hit a wall.
The winter-tail fish? What did they even look like? Shane hadn't given him a field guide or anything. How was he supposed to find one in this massive ocean?
"Forget it. I'll just go down and look," he grumbled, reaching up to unbutton his shirt on autopilot—only to find nothing there.
He looked down and realized his upper body was, at some point, bare again. "Huh? When did I take it off?" He scratched his head. No idea.
But he was so used to this by now that he let it go. He stretched once and dove into the sea.
The winter water was bone-chilling. Light filtered through the surface, casting shifting shafts down into the blue.
Gray searched for a while, eyes burning, but didn't see a single fish with a tail resembling "carved ice and snow."
He surfaced and clung to the gunwale, panting hard, deciding he'd dive twice more and head back if he still found nothing. He'd done his best.
Just then, a chill slid down his back. A strange, creeping feeling of being watched rolled over him.
Gray immediately scanned the surroundings.
The water was calm, a huge sapphire laid flat. Other than his boat and a few birds wheeling above, there was nothing.
The sun shone bright. Everything was normal… perfectly normal.
"Just my imagination?" He frowned, flinging water from his hair, blaming the sensation on the cold.
He took a breath and dove again.
Maybe it was the quiet of the underwater world and the freedom of being alone, but he quickly forgot that odd feeling—along with the hassle of looking for winter-tail fish.
He swam through coral, watched schools of fish gather and scatter. By the time he realized he should head back, the sky was already tilting toward evening.
He clambered ashore, dripping, and trudged back through town.
By the time he reached the smithy's street, he spotted Shane and Erza already standing at the door, apparently waiting.
Weird. In his mind, forging good gear took ages. How were they done so fast?
"Shane's skill is incredible, so it was quick," Erza said, reading his thoughts and answering before he asked.
Shane scratched his head, a bit embarrassed. "It's okay. There are plenty of talented people in this world. When it comes to forging swords and such, I can't claim to be number one."
Gray's mouth twitched. His face said, Yeah, right.
"Can't claim to be number one"—so what, second? Third?
Erza noticed his skeptical look. Her brows drew together slightly, as if she felt the need to defend him.
Light flared—Requip. A massive, imposing greatsword appeared in her hands.
It was nearly as tall as she was, the blade broad and heavy. The edge wasn't razor-thin but carried a dense, blunt weight. The metal had that dark, tempered gleam of something hammered a thousand times.
She gripped it in both hands, her slender frame contrasted by the oversized weapon in a way that somehow made her look even more sharp and powerful.
Shane stepped up and flicked the blade with a finger. A deep, resonant tone rang out.
"Put simply, this sword excels at cutting through metal," he said. "Armor, scales, anything hard. That's not just sharpness—that's structure and weight."
He tapped the joint between blade and guard. "See here? Reinforced with lacrima. No matter how hard you swing, it's not going to chip easily. That's the 'breaking armor' part.
"And finally, stability." His tone held a touch of pride. "Materials and heat treatment are perfect. Tough, durable, and it channels mana beautifully."
The jargon sailed over Gray's head. But just looking at the sword—feeling its presence—was enough. Even as a complete outsider to forging, he could tell this was something special.
And this was just an afternoon's work.
He couldn't help reining in his sarcasm, a grudging respect forming for Shane's craft.
Soon after, the three found a decent-looking restaurant and sat down.
Shane ate at his own unhurried pace, then casually asked, "So, how'd the afternoon go?"
Gray was slumped over the table, radiating low pressure.
No wonder. He'd tried to walk in shirtless and gotten stopped at the door as a "pervert," no matter how he insisted it was just an "accident."
In the end, Erza had pulled a pink, frilly women's jacket out of her Requip stash and bullied him into wearing it. Only then had the staff let him pass.
But wearing that…
He could feel the stares, every one of them worse than before. He was starting to suspect he really was a pervert.
He just couldn't get comfortable, and it showed.
"If that's how it is, then just… wear your clothes properly," Erza said, unable to watch any longer.
"It's not that I don't want to!" Gray protested, lifting his head in misery. "My clothes just… disappear on their own!"
"No, you take them off," Shane said without even looking up.
Gray realized he'd been misunderstood—again—and sighed heavily. There was no way to explain it.
He dropped the topic and dragged them back to business. "Winter-tail fish? Didn't see a single one. Plenty of fish, but none with ice-crystal tails."
"If they were easy to find, they wouldn't be on the request board," Shane said, unsurprised.
"These search jobs are the worst," Gray muttered. He preferred jobs with a clear target—fighting, clearing monsters, things he could punch.
He remembered his newbie days at Fairy Tail. Those cat-and-dog-finding, lost-item-search requests had been his personal hell.
Suddenly, he remembered that strange moment on the water.
"Oh, right." He sat up straighter, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Back on the sea, I suddenly felt like I was being watched. Just for a moment. But there was nothing around… I don't know if I imagined it."
~~~
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