"Tyrant?!"
Lucy went rigid.
So this was the famous Tyrant.
She stole a quick glance at Kael.
Kael's eyes slid to hers—just a casual look, nothing more.
Lucy's breath caught so hard it felt like her lungs forgot what they were for. Her legs wanted to lock. Her bladder nearly betrayed her.
Kael Vane, in this form, looked like an ordinary older man—broad shoulders, solid frame, nothing flashy.
But that one glance made Lucy feel like meat on a cutting board.
Like if he decided to, he could split her open without changing his expression.
Now she understood why this form carried the title Tyrant.
He didn't have to do anything.
Just looking was enough.
Mira leaned in and spoke lightly, like she was rescuing Lucy from drowning.
"Okay. Undo the transformation. Don't scare off the new member."
"Got it."
Kael smiled—and the pressure vanished.
He canceled the Take Over and returned to his usual appearance.
The hall exhaled as one.
"Phew~!"
"That scared me to death~!"
"I was almost scared to death too! Kael, can you please not transform into that form anymore? It's too scary."
"Yeah! Just talk nicely! It's not right to transform and scare people!"
"That's right! That's right!"
It wasn't even a joke. That form had left a real scar on them.
Lucy blinked, still trying to reattach her nerves to her body.
Then her curiosity surged back twice as strong.
"Besides 'Flame Emperor' and 'Tyrant'… what other titles does he have?"
Both names were famous across Ishgar—powerful wizards who had risen in the last six months.
Lucy had heard the stories, but the identities were always vague, always distant.
She never imagined both of them were Kael.
Mira answered without hesitation, like she was listing everyday facts.
"Besides those two, Kael also has the title 'Black-Winged Demon.'"
"'Black-Winged Demon'!" Lucy's eyes widened again. "I've heard of that one too! I heard an island was taken over by monsters as their lair—and then the 'Black-Winged Demon' sank it. Wiped the whole island right off the map."
That story had made the newspapers. Lucy still remembered the headline.
Mira nodded once. "And the last one is 'Sword God.'"
"'Sword God'…" Lucy repeated automatically.
Then the words caught.
Her face changed.
"'Sword God'… 'Sword God'?!! Is… is… is it the 'Sword God' I'm thinking of?!!"
Lucy looked at Mira like Mira had just said the sky was falling.
Then she looked at Kael—slowly, like she was afraid her eyes were lying.
Mira smiled and nodded.
Lucy's mind went blank.
If the first three titles belonged to famous grand wizards in Ishgar, the last one wasn't just fame.
It was legend.
Half a year ago, an event had shaken the continent.
The Kingdom of Sobea held the Strongest Swordsman Tournament. A man won the title of the strongest swordsman.
Then disaster hit—monsters swarmed the city.
And behind the attack…
a dragon.
In the end, that man—armed with nothing but a sword—slew the dragon.
The name Sword God echoed across Ishgar.
Later, the Sword God vanished.
The hype cooled. The rumors began.
Some said he'd been critically injured in the battle.
Some said he'd died.
Lucy had heard it all.
And now—
Kael stood right in front of her.
"Flame Emperor."
"Tyrant."
"Black-Winged Demon."
"Sword God."
Any one of those names could shake a room.
All four belonged to one person.
Lucy swallowed.
That wasn't just strong.
That was terrifying.
Just then, a voice snapped like a whip through the hall.
"You brats! Fighting in the guild again!"
Lucy turned toward the entrance.
A short old man stood there—barely reaching a meter in height—wearing a jester-like hat and a yellow coat.
Lucy couldn't help it. The words escaped on their own.
"He's tiny!!"
Mira's smile went soft, respectful. She stepped forward.
"Master, you're back."
"Master?!" Lucy's jaw dropped.
This tiny old man… was the famous Guild Master of Fairy Tail?
Kael raised a hand with a grin. "Yo! Master, I'm back!"
Makarov's brows twitched.
"Hmph! You brat. You cause me so much trouble the moment you get back!"
Then Makarov noticed Lucy beside Kael.
His face softened immediately.
"A new member?"
Lucy jolted and bowed so fast she nearly snapped in half.
"Y-yes. My name is Lucy."
Makarov lifted a hand in greeting. "Welcome!"
Then, as if remembering he was the Master of the most famous guild in Fiore, he puffed up.
"Hah!"
He planted his feet, sprang up—
—and did several flips in the air, clearly aiming for dramatic flair.
For one glorious second, it almost worked.
Then—
BANG!
His head slammed into the railing.
There was a brief, vicious silence.
Makarov froze, clinging to the railing with both hands like a cat that had misjudged a jump.
Then he hauled himself up on all fours, face stiff.
"Ahem!"
He coughed lightly, pretending none of it had happened.
Then his expression turned serious. He lifted a thick stack of papers like a judge about to pass sentence.
"Take a look! This is all the trouble you've caused recently!!"
The guild collectively flinched.
Makarov slapped the stack once for emphasis.
"First, Gray."
"Huh?! Me again?!" Gray's face twisted. "Why am I always first?!"
Makarov's eyes narrowed. "You did fine capturing the smuggling ring."
Gray's shoulders relaxed for half a second—
Makarov continued.
"But why were you wandering around the street naked afterward? And in the end, you stole someone's underwear that was left by the river and ran away?! Are you an underwear thief?! How many times have you stolen underwear?!"
Gray went scarlet.
He looked like he wanted to dig a hole in the floor and live there.
"Th-that… I saw it sitting by the river and thought no one wanted it…"
Makarov slammed the papers again.
"They went swimming in the river! When they got out, they found their underwear was stolen!!!"
"H-how was I supposed to know that?!"
Elfman muttered, embarrassed on Gray's behalf. "Even so… you shouldn't just pick up underwear…"
Makarov's eyes slid sideways.
"Elfman."
Elfman straightened instantly.
Makarov read, voice rising.
"You used violence against the client you were supposed to be protecting on a mission again?!!"
Elfman scratched his cheek, trying to look noble and failing. "Because he said a real man depends on his education!"
Makarov pinched the bridge of his nose and kept going.
"Cana Alberona…"
Cana's shoulders tensed.
"…falsified expenses, went to a bar and drank fifteen barrels of beer, and you billed it to the Council?!"
Cana's eyes darted. "Th-they found out?"
Makarov didn't even dignify that with a response.
"Loke."
Loke smiled like he didn't have a single regret in his body.
Makarov's face darkened.
"Wasn't it enough to mess with Councilman Michello's granddaughter? Now you're messing with Councilman Leiji's granddaughter?!!"
A ripple of uncomfortable laughter tried to start and died instantly.
Makarov stabbed the papers with a finger.
"Besides the Chairman, there are only nine Magic Councilors—and you've messed with the granddaughters of two of them!! A talent agency is also demanding compensation for their losses."
Makarov's eye twitched.
When he'd gone to pick up these documents, those two old men had chewed him out the hardest.
Loke's shamelessness was genuinely impressive.
Makarov drew one slow breath.
Then his gaze turned toward Kael.
"Next, Kael!"