"Is ice magic actually this common in this world? Can just anyone learn it?"
Shane's thoughts drifted, and for a mont he forgot he was in a fight, lost in comparing Gray's ice magic to the purple-clad girl's.
Seeing the massive ice hamr about to crush the daydreaming Shane, Gray panicked. "You idiot! Spacing out in a fight?! Move already!"
The shout snapped Shane back. He imdiately realized his bad habit—getting absorbed whenever sothing piqued his interest—had flared up again.
Or maybe the fight with Gray was just too easy to take seriously.
I never learn. One day this is going to get killed… he thought, raking a hand through his hair and silently cursing himself.
Then he lifted his head, entirely unhurried, and gave Gray a reassuring smile. "Thanks for the concern. But it's fine."
He angled the blunt black blades just so, tone calm but full of unshakable confidence. "Because I'm actually fairly strong."
Before the words finished, his feet settled firmly on the ice—like it was solid ground, not a slip hazard. His wrists twitched; the twin blades carved two sharp, clean arcs in the air, an invisible edge flaring out.
The next instant, under stunned stares, the giant ice hamr roaring down on him split mid-swing like fragile glass and shattered with a boom into a shower of glittering shards.
"This newbie… is strong!" The onlookers, who'd been jeering a heartbeat ago, went quiet—then burst into louder chatter.
Shane acted as if no one else existed. He flicked a blade tip toward Gray. "Co on. Don't hold back. I've already fought soone who used this… ice-make magic."
He paused. "She was stronger than you. So I'm not going to get hurt."
"You've t another Ice-Make mage?" Gray blinked, then blurted, "Was it a white-haired pervert who doesn't wear clothes?"
"Gray, if you're going to ask that, please look at yourself first," Cana groaned, palm to her face, eyeing the still half-naked hedgehog.
Shane thought for a second, recalling the purple dress pierced by his arrow and blooming red. "No. That girl… definitely liked clothes."
"Girl? Not Lyon?" Gray was baffled—but the real issue hit him a heartbeat later.
"Who are you calling weaker than soone else in Ice-Make?!"
Mana surged as he slamd both hands down. "ICE MAKE: Ice Geyser!"
Jagged ice spouts exploded from the floor beneath Shane's feet.
Seeing Gray finally go serious, Shane nodded inwardly. Ti's tight; can't drag this out.
"Yeah, her ice ford faster. Harder too…"
He danced across the frozen floor, light and clean, slipping past the killing points like a skater.
"And most importantly—her ice rose was much prettier than your hamr."
The instant he finished, Shane's form blurred. In a flicker, he was inside Gray's guard.
Gray saw only a flash before cold kissed both sides of his neck—the twin black blades resting there.
"You lose," Shane said mildly.
He let the blades flow back into cloth and wrapped them around his arm in one smooth motion.
Without another look at the frozen Gray, he turned. "Co on, Erza. Let's get back to the board."
As she passed Gray, Erza added, "It's not just magic. Don't neglect physical training."
That was the lesson that had burned deepest into her during their sparring.
When your opponent crushes you in strength, speed, and stamina, the magic you've co to rely on suddenly feels uselessly thin.
Gray ground his teeth, face full of refusal.
Being told outright his Ice-Make was weaker than soone else's stung worse than losing.
But he knew it—there'd been a gulf between them.
Shane, a holder mage, hadn't even leaned much on his weapons—just superior body work and sword skill.
"No way… I've got to retrain. Hard." Gray clenched his fists and yelled at Shane's back, "Hey! Shane! When I'm done training, we're fighting again!"
He didn't wait for a reply—just stord out of the guild, overflowing with fighting spirit.
Shane whirled and shouted after him, "Don't forget the food!"
The crowd finally shook off their shock.
"Gray lost that easily…"
"This newbie's insane…"
"Looks like the guild's about to get interesting again."
In one fight, Shane beca the new center of gossip.
And that was when he made up his mind.
His eyes tracked over the board; he reached up and ripped down a higher-posted request with a sharp tear.
"I've decided," he said, handing it to Erza. "Let's take a dark guild job."
Erza read it aloud under her breath. "Eliminate the dark guild 'Eisenwald' operating near Oshibana Town…"
Her eyes went wide when she hit the reward. "Two million J?!"
Her brain started calculating at high speed.
With that much, how many weapons could she buy? Maybe she could even commission a few sets of armor to match different fighting styles…
And that café they'd passed—Tomas's Coffee—had such a cute interior, and the sll from inside…
"We're going. Absolutely," she said, nodding without a second's hesitation.
"You two idiots are not taking that request!"
A loud, exasperated voice thundered from the second floor.
A hand far too big for its owner's build shot down and snatched the paper from Erza's fingers.
Makarov vaulted from the balcony, landing lightly. He rolled the sheet up and hopped, whacking each of them on the head—bonk, bonk.
"This is not a job for kids your age!" he roared, beard bristling.
He'd watched the two quietly reading yesterday and dared hope the guild had finally gotten a pair of sensible, low-maintenance newcors.
Instead, after he spent the evening hamring ho how dangerous dark guilds were, by morning they'd already tossed his words out the window.
~~~
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