The next day, around noon.

After completing their request and returning to Magnolia, Rayne walked leisurely with Conna in tow, while Laxus strode ahead with his arms crossed.

Though the two had just finished a job together, they acted like complete strangers.

"BONG—! BONG—! BONG—!"

Unlike any ordinary chime, the urgent, thunderous tolling of the bell erupted from the town's central watchtower, echoing through every corner.

At the sound, the entire town froze as if someone had hit a pause button.

A housewife picking fruit paused mid-motion, her face twisting into an exasperated "Ugh, here we go again."

A couple chatting at a café exchanged weary smiles.

Even children playing in the streets immediately scrambled to the sidewalks.

There was no panic, no chaos—just a collective look of resigned familiarity, mixed with awe and mild annoyance.

The sudden shift made even the usually expressionless Conna tilt her head in curiosity.

"Gildarts Mode?"

Though Rayne had never experienced it before, he had a guess.

After all, Master Makarov had mentioned that Gildarts was due to return soon. So it wasn't entirely unexpected.

"Hey, you two! What are you standing around for?"

A bystander noticed Rayne and Conna lingering and quickly waved them over.

Realizing they might be outsiders, the man added, "Hurry over here, or you'll be in trouble!"

"Right. Thanks."

Snapped out of his thoughts, Rayne nodded appreciatively and led Conna to the sidewalk.

Glancing at Laxus, he saw the lightning mage already standing aside, his eyes burning with anticipation as he stared toward the town entrance.

"Rayne, what's happening?"

Conna tugged Rayne's hand, her chubby face lifting toward him with curiosity—though her blank expression made the contrast oddly amusing.

"Little one, this is what we in Magnolia call 'Gildarts Mode,'" an elderly woman beside them explained kindly, recognizing they weren't locals.

"Gildarts Mode?"

With someone offering an explanation, Conna turned her attention to the old woman instead.

"Mm. Look."

The woman nodded and pointed toward the town gates where they'd entered.

By now, the streets had completely cleared—a routine the townspeople knew all too well.

Then—

"RUMBLE—!"

The ground beneath them began to tremble faintly.

Conna glanced around but saw no panic—just calm acceptance.

It was as if some ancient beast slumbering beneath the town had begun to stir.

With the grinding of colossal gears and the hiss of pressurized steam, the impossible unfolded.

Starting from the southern gate, the bustling main street split down the middle, the cobblestones parting in a razor-straight line.

The fissure rapidly widened, and the buildings, shops, and even flower beds along the street began sliding apart on massive mechanical platforms, shifting smoothly to either side.

In moments, a perfectly straight, unobstructed path stretched from the gates all the way to the doors of the Fairy Tail guildhall.

"Wow~ Rayne, Rayne! Maji de yabai! (This is seriously crazy!)"

The little dragon girl's eyes sparkled with excitement as she tugged Rayne's hand, utterly enchanted by the town's toy-like transformation.

"This is Gildarts Mode—a special adjustment to our town, all to prevent that man from accidentally causing destruction," the old woman explained, her tone a mix of fond exasperation and hometown pride.

"Tch. At the end of the day, it's just poor control over his own power," Dreyar scoffed in Rayne's mind.

To her, a true warrior of [The Overbearing] would never tolerate such recklessness.

As for the spectacle? Unimpressed. In her long life, she'd witnessed far grander entrances.

"Hey, kid. Don't you dare pick up his bad habits," Dreyar warned, almost protective of Rayne's potential.

"I know," Rayne replied silently, his gaze fixed on the figure now appearing at the town's entrance.

Red hair. A rugged, muscular frame. A carefree grin as he slung a travel bag over one shoulder.

This wasn't the grizzled middle-aged man he'd become—this was Gildarts Clive in his prime, exuding the roguish charm of a wandering mage.

But Rayne wasn't focused on that.

What gripped his attention was the raw, barely restrained magic swirling around Gildarts—a pressure so intense it made the ground beneath him crack with each step.

Even this passive aura was enough to send a jolt of adrenaline through Rayne.

Compared to the polished control of Master Makarov, Gildarts' untamed power was a visceral display of what an S-Class mage truly represented.

"He's… strong," Rayne murmured, eyes narrowing.

Excluding dragons like Conna and Dreyar, this was the first time he'd faced such overwhelming might head-on.

And instead of intimidation, it ignited something in him—a fierce, rising heat.

"My first goal… surpass Gildarts."

Rayne didn't doubt for a second that he could.

With [Dragon's Origin], the path was clear.

But even without it?

The belief wouldn't waver.

If he lacked the will to surpass Gildarts without relying on his magic, then he didn't deserve to stand among the best.

As if sensing his stare, Gildarts glanced over mid-conversation with a drinking buddy.

Rayne didn't look away.

He let his ambition burn openly in his gaze.

For a moment, the red-haired mage blinked in surprise—then threw back his head with a booming laugh.

A challenger? Bring it on.

He'd never feared being overtaken. His confidence was unshakable.

But then his instincts prickled as his eyes landed on Conna.

Decades of battle-honed senses screamed:

Danger.

That little girl was dangerous.

Yet the feeling vanished as quickly as it came.

Gildarts wasn't one to dismiss gut instincts, but now wasn't the time to dig deeper.

With a final thoughtful glance, he continued forward.

"Heyyy, if it isn't Laxus? Did ya miss me?" Gildarts teased, spotting the blond mage.

"In your dreams, old man," Laxus sneered, turning on his heel toward the guild.

"Ah, youth. You'll learn—women love a seasoned guy like me~"

Gildarts just grinned, running a hand through his spiked red hair with exaggerated flair.

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