After Laxus finally let out the breath he was holding, the severe mental trauma he had accumulated instantly erupted. He rolled his eyes and fainted.
Ryoma looked expressionlessly at the unconscious Laxus on the ground, bent down, grabbed one of his legs with one hand, and then turned around, dragging him out of the cathedral.
The heavy body dragged across the frost-covered, rocky ground, making a series of scraping sounds.
At this moment, the atmosphere in the Fairy Tail Guild hall was oppressive and heavy.
The members who had exhausted their magic power earlier to stop the Thunder Palace had mostly recovered after simple treatment and rest.
They gathered in twos and threes, yet maintained a tacit silence, everyone's gaze intentionally or unintentionally drifting towards the infirmary at the back of the guild.
A sense of worry permeated the air.
Makarov's condition concerned everyone, but no one dared to disturb him in the infirmary at this time. They could only wait anxiously for news.
Creak!
The guild's main door was pushed open, breaking the silence and instantly drawing everyone's attention.
Ryoma walked in from outside, dragging a human-shaped object. The object had disheveled golden hair and a bare torso. It was none other than the previously arrogant Laxus.
Thump... Thump...
He was dragged by his ankle, his head and back scraping against the wooden floor, making dull thuds and leaving a clear trail.
The guild members looked at this miserable sight, first collectively stunned, then a complex mix of relief, satisfaction, and even a hint of pity welled up in their hearts.
Seeing Laxus in such a half-dead state, they knew that the beating he received this time was probably exceptionally brutal.
Ryoma dragged him all the way to the center of the hall and let go. Laxus was dropped onto the ground like a bag of garbage, making a dull thud.
He looked up, scanning the gathered guild members, and asked, "How is the old man doing now?"
At the mention of Makarov, the slight ease that had just appeared on everyone's faces instantly vanished, replaced by deep worry. They looked at each other, eventually shaking their heads helplessly, indicating that they didn't know the exact situation.
Just then, the door to the infirmary in the back opened, and Porlyusica and Erza walked out, one after the other.
Everyone's hearts were in their throats.
"That old geezer isn't going to die."
Porlyusica curtly dropped this statement, ignoring everyone and walking straight towards the guild door, as if staying for another second was an annoyance.
"Granny Porlyusica!"
"Thank you!"
Despite her somewhat harsh attitude, the guild members were genuinely grateful.
As her figure departed, the atmosphere in the entire guild hall instantly shifted from gloomy clouds to a clear sky.
"That's great!"
"Master is fine!"
The long-suppressed cheers finally erupted, and everyone cried tears of joy, hugging each other in celebration.
Looking at the guild that had regained its vitality, a hint of softness appeared on Erza's usually stern face, but she quickly cleared her throat to quell the cheers and reminded them, "However, Master is old after all, and his body can't take much strain. If anything else causes him worry, it might harm his health. Everyone must keep this in mind."
"Understood!"
Everyone immediately stood at attention and responded in unison.
Ryoma looked at these individuals, not quite believing them. Making these troublemakers cause no trouble at all was probably harder than making Natsu and Gray get along peacefully.
He turned his gaze to Erza and asked, "Is the old man awake now? I'll drag this guy over to see him."
Erza nodded.
Receiving an affirmative answer, Ryoma turned to pick up Laxus from the ground.
When he looked down, he saw Natsu had somehow crept over and was squatting beside the unconscious Laxus, curiously poking his cheek with a finger, then pinching the still not fully faded dragon-scale patterns on his arm.
"Is he really alive? Why isn't he reacting at all?"
Ryoma felt a bit speechless, too lazy to bother with this single-celled organism, and simply bent down to grab Laxus's ankle.
"Hey! I haven't finished studying him yet!"
Ryoma ignored Natsu's shouts and dragged Laxus towards the infirmary.
Watching Ryoma and Laxus disappear from the main hall area, the long-suppressed crowd finally couldn't help but start whispering.
"You guys... do you think Laxus is dead? He's not reacting even when being dragged like this."
"He doesn't seem to have any wounds, though, just unconscious?"
"Hiss... that's the scariest part. To beat someone like this without even visible injuries, what exactly did Ryoma do?"
"Mental attack? Or soul strike?"
"Truly terrifying..."
These not-so-quiet discussions drifted into Ryoma's ears, making his eyebrows twitch.
Can't these guys talk about people behind their backs a little more discreetly?
He silently grumbled to himself, pushed open the infirmary door, walked straight in, and then closed the door behind him to block out the noise from outside.
Thump!
He flung his arm, tossing Laxus onto an empty bed in the corner, without caring about his posture.
After doing all this, he turned to the other side to look at the familiar little old man sitting on the hospital bed.
Makarov was wearing a hospital gown, his face still looked a bit pale, but his spirits seemed much better.
Ryoma smiled, waving his hand casually in greeting. "Yo! Old man, it looks like you're still healthy."
Makarov didn't respond to Ryoma's greeting, his gaze fixed on the unconscious Laxus on the other hospital bed. His cloudy eyes were filled with unspeakable sorrow and disappointment, and he seemed to have aged ten years in that instant.
"Ryoma..."
After a long while, Makarov finally spoke in a hoarse, dry voice.
"You brat, did you go a bit too far?"
Then his tone shifted, his voice carrying undisguised weariness and a slight tremor.
"Thank you..."
"But..."
Makarov's gaze finally moved from his grandson to Ryoma, his expression extremely complex.
"For Laxus to reach this point is my failure, my dereliction of duty as the Guild Master, and my incompetence as a grandfather."
Seeing this old man, who had dedicated his life to the guild, reveal such a vulnerable side, Ryoma fell silent for a moment.
He slowly spoke, his voice devoid of emotion, "This isn't your failure. His own stubbornness chose this path."
Makarov painfully closed his eyes, two lines of cloudy tears rolling down his wrinkled cheeks.
"But he is still my grandson... I couldn't... I couldn't guide him onto the right path."
(End of Chapter)
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