46-50

Chapter 46: Mission—Investigate the Disappearing Objects  

"Guild Master."  

Rayne turned toward the voice and greeted Makarov casually.  

The others chimed in one after another.  

"Hmm."  

With a nod, Makarov descended the stairs, hands clasped behind his back.  

After pinning the request sheets to the job board, he announced:  

"Alright, pick your missions."  

The moment the words left his mouth, the guild members stampeded toward the board like a pack of starving wolves.  

"Is this a lunch rush or what?"  

Even though he’d seen this spectacle before, Rayne couldn’t help but吐槽 (tsukkomi) internally.  

That said, he still joined the charge, tossing a quick remark over his shoulder:  

"Konan, wait here for a bit."  

Thanks to the intimidating presence of the greatsword strapped to his back, no one dared block his path.  

Rayne reached the board effortlessly, his eyes scanning the postings rapidly.  

Right now, he had only one criterion: reward amount.  

Anything below his expected pay range was mentally noted and skipped.  

Soon, one request caught his attention:  

Title: Investigate Mysterious Thefts 

Rank: C-Class 

Details: In Hill Town (eastern region), objects have been vanishing inexplicably—from laundry left drying to pottery in shops. All disappear without witnesses. Request guild assistance in identifying the thief. 

Reward: 50,000J  

"Eastern region… Investigation mission…"  

Rayne’s brow furrowed. The location alone suggested a long trip, and tracking missing items?  

That could take ages.  

But with Konan around, pinpointing the culprit would be trivial.  

Worst-case scenario, he’d treat it as sightseeing.  

"This one!"  

Decision made, Rayne snatched the sheet before anyone else could—then shouldered his way out of the crowd.  

The guildmates wisely dodged, not keen on bumping into a blade taller than they were.  

"Huh. Never knew my sword doubled as a crowd-control tool."  

Glancing back at the chaotic scramble, Rayne patted the greatsword appreciatively.  

"Guild Master, I’m taking this job."  

He slid the request across the counter.  

"Hill Town’s pottery merchants must be rolling in Jewels. Lucky grab."  

Makarov scanned the sheet while logging it.  

He remembered this one—a 50,000J reward just to find a thief? Rare generosity.  

"Here."  

The request was pushed back toward Rayne moments later.  

This time, Makarov offered no warnings.  

Not because he was still miffed about the magic lesson—but because Rayne had already completed two missions.  

He no longer saw him as a rookie.  

Overbearing advice now would only insult Rayne’s competence as a wizard.  

"See you later, Guild Master. I’ll bring back souvenirs if I find any."  

Tucking the sheet away, Rayne waved and headed for Konan.  

"Save your Jewels. That town’s prices are brutal."  

Makarov had traveled enough in his youth to know.  

Rayne didn’t reply, just waved again as he led Konan out.  

This trip would be far longer than the last, so Rayne didn’t leave immediately.  

Back at the apartment, he packed spare clothes and seasonings.  

Even though the job was urban, he wasn’t taking chances.  

Hours later, a deep train whistle echoed through the station.  

The black steam engine roared to life, chugging eastward.  

"Maji yabakunai~!" (This is amazing!)  

Konan knelt by the window, her chubby cheeks squished against the glass.  

Eyes sparkling, she marveled at this new mode of travel—nothing like horse-drawn carriages.  

Beside her, Rayne leaned back, his greatsword propped nearby.  

Passengers spoke in hushed tones; parents silenced rowdy children with warnings.  

Their carriage became the quietest on the train.  

Rayne didn’t mind. Peace was welcome.  

"Rayne, that’s where Porlyusica lives!"  

Konan suddenly tugged his sleeve, pointing at a dense forest in the distance.  

"Do you think she can see us?" she asked, tilting her head.  

"Porlyusica wouldn’t care even if she did."  

Rayne chuckled, imagining the cranky old woman grumbling about the train’s noise.  

"Oh."  

Konan blinked, then pressed her face back to the window.  

Rayne’s gaze drifted past her, watching the scenery blur by.  

For a moment, it almost felt like his past life.  

Hours Later – Hill Town Station  

Rayne stepped off the train, guiding a drowsy Konan.  

Even the most exciting novelty fades after hours of repetition—especially for a dragon.  

After the initial excitement, she’d dozed against him.  

"Let’s find an inn and eat first."  

The sky had darkened completely, forcing Rayne to postpone meeting the client.  

"What are we eating?"  

Konan perked up instantly at the magic word.  

"Of course that wakes you up."  

Rayne poked her forehead but relented:  

"No idea. We’ll look around."  

As they left the station, Hill Town’s streets unfolded—lined with pottery shops and ceramic-themed architecture.  

Even the air smelled of clay and glaze.  

Near the station (as if universal law dictated it), an inn-and-tavern combo stood.  

Rayne paused outside, light and raucous laughter spilling from within.  

The ambiance rivaled Fairy Tail on a rowdy night.  

"This’ll do."  

Since the request mentioned stolen goods, a busy tavern seemed ideal for gathering rumors.  

Pushing the door open, Rayne stepped inside with Konan in tow.  

Chapter 47: The Vanishing Magic Particles  

The moment Rayne and Kanna stepped into the tavern, curious glances flickered their way.  

When those eyes landed on the oversized greatsword strapped to the boy’s back, the patrons’ expressions shifted to outright disbelief.  

A child carrying a blade taller than himself? That was… unusual.  

But this was a prosperous pottery town, and the people here had seen their fair share of oddities. Soon enough, the onlookers returned to their drinks—though the occasional curious peek was inevitable.  

Rayne led Kanna to an empty table and sat down.  

"What can I get for you?"  

A waitress approached with a practiced smile, though her eyebrow twitched at the sight of the greatsword leaning against the wall.  

"Kanna, you pick."  

After a brief skim of the menu, Rayne handed it over to the little dragon beside him.  

"This one! This one… and this one too!"  

Kanna’s tiny finger jabbed at the pictures with zero hesitation.  

"Uh… isn’t that a bit much?"  

The waitress hesitated, eyeing Rayne with suspicion. Two kids ordering enough food for a small party? This reeked of troublemaking.  

"Don’t worry. She’s got a big appetite."  

Rayne’s reassurance eased her doubts.  

"Very well. Your order will be ready shortly."  

With a polite nod, she walked off. If the kids wanted to waste their money, that was their problem.  

Leaning back in his chair, Rayne scanned the room.  

The tavern was a mix of locals in simple clothes chatting with staff, merchants in finer attire, and their armed guards—men and women with weapons and leather armor, exuding a sharp, no-nonsense aura.  

Even in safe countries like Fiore, merchants traveling between towns never left without protection.  

"Hey, you hear? Talia’s underwear got stolen!"  

"Wait, that bombshell widow?!"  

"This batch of goods better sell for a good price…"  

"Boss! Two more ales over here!"  

"Tch. Finn’s raising prices again! Says stuff’s been disappearing all over town. Like hell I’m buying that excuse!"  

The overlapping chatter made it hard to pick out individual conversations—but Rayne’s sharpened senses (and growing inhuman perception) caught the gist.  

After listening for a while, he exhaled through his nose.  

"This ‘thief’ has… eclectic tastes."  

His finger tapped the table thoughtfully.  

A widow’s lingerie. Random missing items. No discernible pattern in location—east side, west side, anywhere, really.  

At this point, he wasn’t even sure it was a thief.  

What kind of burglar ignored valuables for random junk?  

"A magic beast?"  

His mind immediately went there. When in doubt, blame the monsters. Their logic was anyone’s guess.  

But he quickly dismissed the idea.  

"No. If it were a known beast, Master Makarov would’ve mentioned it."  

The guild master had decades of experience. If a creature matching this description existed, he’d have recognized it from the request.  

"A dark guild, then?"  

The next easy scapegoat.  

"…But would dark mages really steal a widow’s underwear?"  

He grimaced. If a dark guild was involved, the woman would’ve lost more than just her smallclothes.  

"So no magic beasts, no dark guilds… just a weirdly dedicated kleptomaniac?"  

His finger stilled. This was getting frustrating.  

At least beasts and criminals followed some logic. A mundane thief with this level of randomness made no sense.  

"Unless they get off on the act itself… or there’s more than one thief."  

His mind raced, already plotting ways to lure out the culprit.  

Tap.  

A plate clinked against the table, snapping him back to reality.  

"Enjoy your meal."  

The waitress set down their food with a smile before retreating.  

Steam curled from the dishes, the rich aroma making Kanna’s mouth water—literally. A tiny droplet glistened at the corner of her lips.  

"No! Can’t eat yet!"  

She shook her head violently, her twin lavender-and-white pigtails whipping side to side.  

Rayne was deep in thought. She refused to dig in without him. That’d be rude!  

…Even if the food smelled amazing.  

"Kanna? Why aren’t you eating?"  

Rayne’s voice snapped her attention up.  

"Rayne’s done thinking?"  

Her starry-eyed gaze bore into him.  

Ah. She’d been waiting for him.  

Pushing his theories aside for now, he smiled.  

"Yeah. Let’s eat."  

"Yay~"  

With a quiet cheer, Kanna grabbed her spoon and dove in.  

After weeks in this world, she’d learned table manners—no more biting the utensil in half like her first meal.  

Bellies full, the two stepped back into the streets.  

"Kanna, notice anything strange about this town?"  

Rayne watched her hop along the cobblestones.  

"Mmm… no bad smells. But sometimes, magic particles vanish for a second."  

She tilted her head.  

"Not a lot, though! Less than when a person uses magic."  

"Even magic particles are disappearing?"  

That gave Rayne pause.  

If stolen objects were one thing, intangible energy being siphoned was another.  

Kanna said it was minor—fleeting, even.  

But when pieced together with everything else?  

This wasn’t some pervy thief’s hobby anymore.  

This was something far weirder.  

Chapter 48: Mystogan  

Tap. Tap.  

Rayne’s thoughts were interrupted by light footsteps echoing from a nearby rooftop.  

The stride was quick and nimble—someone short, moving fast.  

His eyes flicked upward, analyzing. If that’s our thief, this’ll be easy. Though he’d doubted it’d be an ordinary burglar.  

Under the moonlight, a slender figure dashed across red clay tiles, each step crisp. In their grip: a staff pulsing with dense magic.  

A black cloak. A hood. A dark green mask covering everything but the eyes.  

Night. Rooftops. Concealed identity.  

Every cliché of a phantom thief, Rayne mused.  

"Rayne. Thief?" Kanna tilted her head.  

"...No."  

The outfit tugged at his memory. Someone from the original story... Staff, masked face...  

Then it clicked.  

"Wait—Mystogan?!"  

His surprise melted into understanding. Of course. This explained the vanishing objects.  

Multiple worlds existed—not theory, but fact. Earthland was his current realm. Mystogan hailed from Edolas, a world starving for magic. Its king sought to steal this world’s life force through the Anima spell, converting it into energy for Edolas.  

The missing items? Likely test runs before full-scale human absorption.  

And Mystogan? A rebel sabotaging his father’s plans.  

"So the Anima experiments started this early?" Rayne murmured. Memory gaps made timelines fuzzy, but the pieces fit.  

"Kanna. We follow."  

Scooping her up, he channeled magic into his legs. The weight of his greatsword and Kanna—nearly 200 pounds combined—vanished as he bounded onto a store sign, then the roof.  

But the figure was gone. Spotted us and switched to ground routes.  

"There." Kanna pointed unerringly down an alley.  

"Damn. Almost got seen."  

Mystogan exhaled in the shadows. Roof-running had been reckless, but time was scarce. The Anima’s resonance grew stronger—its next activation wouldn’t stop at inanimate objects.  

"First trial... Please hold."  

His staff trembled as he sprinted toward the town square.  

The square was mercifully empty. Perfect.  

Pulling his hood lower, Mystogan watched space itself warp—ripples like water, then jagged cracks vomiting violet light.  

"Now!"  

His staff struck the ground. A sealing array bloomed, ensnaring the distortion.  

For a heartbeat, it worked.  

Then—  

CRACK!  

The spell shattered. The Anima spun backward, hurling Mystogan airborne. Ribs screamed as he skidded across stone.  

"Reversed?!"  

Horror dawned. Instead of draining Earthland, the spell would now suck Edolas’s life into this world!  

He lunged forward—  

"Guh—!"  

Collapsed. Blood filled his mouth.  

Above him, the inverted vortex convulsed.  

Then—  

SPLORTCH.  

Several black-clad figures were vomited onto the cobblestones.  

Chapter 49: The Rift Crawlers  

It was a creature resembling a centipede.  

Its body, over a meter long, was encased in layers of dark purple chitin, with faint violet light seeping through the gaps.  

Unlike a normal centipede, its head lacked eyes or pincers—only a pair of quivering antennae and a spiraling, vortex-like mouth.  

Seemingly disoriented by its unfamiliar surroundings, dozens of segmented legs trembled beneath its abdomen.  

The sharp tips of its feet tapped against the cobblestone with a crisp, rhythmic clatter.  

"Rift Crawlers?"  

Mystogan exhaled in relief at the sight of the ejected creature, though a headache quickly followed.  

The fact that no innocents had been harmed eased his mind, but the appearance of these monsters was its own problem.  

Rift Crawlers.  

Subterranean magical beasts that hunted by sensing vibrations through the ground.  

Their maws could spew highly corrosive fluids.  

And because they lacked eyes, they were acutely sensitive to magic.  

Attempting to re-activate the sealing magic for the 『Soul』 would undoubtedly draw their attention.  

Their acidic spray could even erode magical arrays, and their chitinous shells offered considerable resistance to spells.  

In short, they were a troublesome foe.  

Under normal circumstances, he could take his time dealing with them—but now, with the 『Soul』 to seal, time was a luxury he didn’t have.  

Worse, the commotion had already drawn the attention of nearby residents.  

Mystogan spotted doors creaking open, curious faces peering out in confusion.  

"Fairy Tail is handling an official request! A magical beast has appeared—please stay indoors for your safety!"  

A booming voice rang out from above.  

"Whoosh—"  

A heavy object tore through the air with a deafening howl, spinning like a windmill as it hurtled toward the Rift Crawler.  

The disturbance in the air alerted the creature faster than even Mystogan could react.  

Its dozens of legs scuttled in a blur, carrying it away just as—  

"BOOM!!!"  

—the 『windmill』 crashed into the ground with enough force to shatter the cobblestones, sending debris flying.  

Fragments struck the fleeing Rift Crawler, but its dark purple shell remained unscathed.  

The impact was so violent that Mystogan felt the tremor through his boots.  

"A greatsword?"  

His eyes narrowed at the massive blade embedded in the rubble.  

The white cloth wrapped around its hilt fluttered wildly in the disturbed air.  

Two figures landed moments later.  

The larger of the two—though still smaller than the sword itself—gripped the hilt and effortlessly wrenched it free, slinging it over his shoulder.  

A black, intricate emblem on the back of his hand caught Mystogan’s attention.  

"Tch. Fast little buggers, aren’t they?"  

Rayne clicked his tongue, glaring at the regrouping monsters.  

He’d hoped to thin their numbers quickly, but their reflexes were sharper than expected.  

"They live underground—hyper-sensitive to air currents." 

"And watch their mouths. They spit lethal acid."  

Though the situation had escalated in seconds, Mystogan recognized potential allies when he saw them. He quickly relayed warnings in his usual disguised voice.  

"Got it. Then leave this to me."  

Rayne jerked his chin toward the distorted space—signaling for Mystogan to handle that while he dealt with the beasts.  

"Kanade, get clear."  

Patting the little girl’s head, Rayne grinned as mana surged through his body.  

"Mm! Go get 'em, Rayne!"  

Kanade pumped a tiny fist before scampering off.  

The vibrations of her movement instantly drew the Rift Crawler’s attention.  

Its antennae twitched, locking onto her position.  

"Hmm—!"  

Rayne swung the greatsword down with a resonant hum, its weight carving through the air as a primal aura erupted from him.  

The overwhelming threat forced the Rift Crawler to abandon its original target.  

The sinister glow between its chitinous plates intensified—  

—and deep within its spiraling maw, violet light flickered.  

"CRACK!!!"  

Rayne didn’t wait.  

His knees bent—then, with an explosive burst, the ground beneath him fractured as he launched forward like a fired arrow, sword in tow.  

The Rift Crawler’s antennae trembled.  

A thick, putrid stream of purple acid erupted from its maw.  

Droplets splattered onto the stone, hissing and smoking as they burned tiny craters into the ground.  

Rayne’s eyes narrowed.  

He could block the spray with his sword—but the corrosion would ruin the blade in seconds.  

And he wasn’t about to let his brand-new weapon turn to scrap before its first real fight.  

"Dodging it is."  

Planting his foot, he vaulted into the air as the acidic jet streaked beneath him.  

The plaza erupted in a chorus of sizzles, the stench of rot and burning stone thickening into a noxious black haze.  

But Rayne was already descending, his grin wild as he raised the greatsword high—mana coiling around the steel.  

His target?  

The same Rift Crawler that had dodged his initial throw.  

At this range, even if it sensed the air displacement—  

—its body couldn’t react fast enough.  

The blade came down like a guillotine.  

The chitin, harder than obsidian, shattered instantly.  

"CRUNCH—!"  

Shards of shell sprayed outward as the sword cleaved through flesh, sending the bisected halves of the creature flipping into the air.  

Foul green blood rained down.  

"BOOM!!!"  

The sword’s momentum drove it into the ground, spiderweb cracks racing outward.  

Rayne didn’t pause.  

His eyes flicked across the battlefield—five remaining Rift Crawlers, their maws already glowing again.  

"Five left."  

Snatching a severed chunk of the first Crawler mid-air, he pivoted and hurled it like a discus at the nearest foe.  

His right leg snapped out in a whip-like kick, sending another chunk flying like a soccer ball.  

Chapter 50: The Completed Request  

The flying body slammed directly into the spewing corrosive sludge.  

Though the sickening sizzle of dissolving matter still filled the air, it had at least managed to block the incoming liquid.  

Without missing a beat, Rayne adjusted his stance, holding his breath as he dashed forward like a panther, closing the distance in an instant.  

Screech—  

The tip of his greatsword scraped against the ground, sparks flaring as metal shrieked against stone. His charging form tore through the acidic mist, bringing him face-to-face with one of the Rift Worms.  

The creature’s twitching antennae betrayed its agitation—even without eyes, its unease was obvious.  

Rayne’s expression remained cold. Gripping his sword with one hand, he swung upward in a clean arc.  

The blade, glowing faintly red from friction, sliced cleanly into the worm’s underbelly.  

The force of the strike sent its dozens-of-pounds body flying backward, curling like a shrimp mid-air.  

Hiss—  

A shadow lashed through the air—a whip-like appendage shooting toward him with enough force to split stone.  

Rayne’s wrist twisted, his greatsword rotating in front of him like a shield. The two-palm-wide blade became an impenetrable wall.  

Clang!  

A crisp metallic ring echoed across the plaza.  

Lowering his sword, Rayne saw the culprit—a red, tendril-like tongue, retracting back into the maw of another Rift Worm.  

So it’s their tongue?  

The thought flickered through his mind, but his body was already moving.  

He thrust his sword forward, spinning it like a drill. The blade coiled around the tongue before the worm could retract it.  

"Time for a merry-go-round!"  

A wild grin spread across Rayne’s face as he pivoted at the waist, muscles straining.  

The worm’s body lifted off the ground, helpless as he swung it like a flail—smashing it into another attacker.  

His foot stamped down, and the airborne monster crashed into the previously launched worm.  

Thud!  

A dull impact shook the ground as the two creatures tumbled away, rolling like broken logs.  

Pat.  

With a flick of disgust, Rayne whipped his sword forward, flinging the severed tongue to the ground.  

Even detached, the red tendril writhed like a dying snake.  

The remaining Rift Worm seemed to realize—this foe was beyond them.  

Their spiral maws pressed into the earth, bodies sinking rapidly.  

They’re trying to escape?!  

Rayne’s grip tightened.  

"You think it’s that easy?!"  

Both hands clenched the hilt as he angled the blade downward. Mana surged from his body into the steel, igniting a pale glow along its edge.  

The sheer density of his magic made even Mystogan, mid-seal, glance over in surprise.  

A mage this young… with such refined power?  

But the masked wizard quickly refocused on his task.  

Rayne noticed the gaze but paid it no mind. His arms tensed—  

—then slammed the sword into the ground.  

BOOM!  

The infused mana detonated, rippling outward in a shockwave.  

The half-buried worms jolted violently—then were hurled back out of their holes like popped corks.  

Rayne’s eyes sharpened.  

Feet braced, knees bent, torso coiled like a spring—  

—his greatsword rested at his hip, poised for the kill.  

The falling monsters had no time to react.  

Crash!  

His body blurred, a shadow streaking through the air.  

Thk-chk!  

Flesh split. Acidic blood rained.  

By the time Rayne skidded to a halt, he’d returned to his adult form—longer reach, deadlier strikes.  

The sword dripped green as severed limbs plopped wetly behind him.  

Drip… drip…  

The stench of rot thickened the air.  

With a flick, Rayne whipped the gore off his blade, painting a crescent of ichor on the cobblestones.  

"Hah…"  

Exhaling, he dismissed his Giant Magic, shrinking back to his usual size. The greatsword snapped onto his back, magnetized by his holder.  

"He’s gone, huh?"  

Turning, Rayne noted Mystogan’s absence—the distorted space now calm.  

No surprise. Dude avoids people like the plague.  

"Only one staff… and the Anima’s range was small. Must be early in the timeline."  

Mulling it over, Rayne shrugged.  

Going after the Edolas king now was pointless—without the Moon Dragon God or another Anima, crossing worlds wasn’t feasible.  

And right now? I’d probably get stomped.  

"Whatever. At least this job’s wrapped up fast."  

A smirk tugged at his lips.  

He’d expected this request to drag on—yet here he was, solving the root cause immediately.  

"Rayne, chase?"  

Conanna trotted up, eyes gleaming with predator’s excitement.  

"Nah. He might join the guild later."  

Waving her off, Rayne turned as townsfolk cautiously approached.  

The corrosive smoke had cleared, revealing the pockmarked battlefield.  

For a second, he considered bolting—  

—but he’d announced his name to keep civilians back. Fleeing now would be tacky.  

Plus, I haven’t been paid yet.  

And honestly? Without him, the damage would’ve been way worse.  

No way they’d make him foot the bill.  

"Right. Time to collect."  

Straightening, Rayne waited confidently as the crowd drew nearer.  

Meanwhile, in a dim alleyway…  

Mystogan slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.  

Though Rayne had handled the combat, sealing the Anima had drained him.  

"Fairy… Tail…"  

Leaning his head back, he stared at the starless sky, replaying that bold declaration—and the black mark on the mage’s arm.