This was a place so familiar she could find it with her eyes closed.
The house hadn't been renovated yet, and the yard still lacked the fruit trees they would plant later, so it looked empty and quiet.
But Erza still walked to the door out of habit. She slid her fingers under a loose brick that looked completely unremarkable, felt around twice—
Click.
A cold sensation, and a spare key dropped into her palm.
"Still here."
The corner of Erza's mouth lifted slightly.
Back then, she'd hidden it here specifically so that bastard—who always forgot his keys and was too lazy to use magic to unlock the door—wouldn't get locked out.
She hadn't expected it would end up being convenient for her now.
"Alright then…"
As she slipped inside without a sound, the girl's eyes sharpened.
She tapped her palm. A faint glow flickered, and a wide black hooded cloak appeared out of thin air.
The heavy fabric concealed her simple dress—and the full curves that were hard to hide even under loose clothing—completely.
She pulled the hood low. In the shadow, only her smooth, jade-like chin showed, along with a few strands of crimson hair bright as sunset.
"Yeah… like this, 'I' shouldn't recognize me."
Erza stepped to the window, checked her reflection in the glass, and nodded in satisfaction.
Then, with a thought, she summoned an ordinary long sword into her hand.
If she was going to warn her past self to "keep Shane on a tighter leash,"
she wasn't going to choose something gentle like leaving a note—something that could be ignored, or even treated as a prank.
She preferred a method that was direct, unforgettable… and frankly more in line with "someone's style."
That was—
Let the sword do the talking.
"Simple, direct… and the memory of pain will be carved into bone."
Even though the person she was about to discipline was herself, this straightforward knight had zero intention of holding back.
…
The door handle turned soundlessly.
Inside, the red-haired girl who'd been hunched over her desk writing letters snapped her head up.
That wasn't a familiar set of footsteps.
"Who are you?"
Young Erza stood quickly, wary of the black-robed figure at the doorway—someone who clearly meant trouble.
"Come outside with me, Erza."
The voice from beneath the hood was deliberately lowered, cold and absolute.
"Ten minutes from now, you'll be lying face-down on the ground."
"And you'll carve every word I say into your brain."
"Huh?"
Young Erza froze for a split second, then frowned hard.
Who was this person?
She searched her memory at lightning speed—and found nothing. No trace of this cloaked figure at all.
"This is ridiculous."
But the intruder didn't give her time to think.
Whoosh!
A blade flashed.
The cloaked figure's sword skimmed past her hair, stabbing straight for her forehead.
The strike was vicious—yet, whether intentionally or not, the blade neatly avoided the desk piled high with letters behind her.
But Erza, panicked, didn't notice that detail at all.
All she saw was an attack that almost hit the desk behind her. Her eyes sharpened, her priorities instantly shifting away from her own narrow escape.
"You want to fight? Then we fight outside!"
To avoid wrecking the room, the two of them smashed through the window in tacit agreement and landed in the open yard.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Clear, crisp steel-on-steel rang through the courtyard.
But as the exchanges piled up, Erza grew more and more alarmed.
The opponent's swordplay… was too strange.
Every swing carried an eerie familiarity—like she'd seen it somewhere before—yet she couldn't place it.
Worse, the cloaked figure fought as if they had divine sight.
Feints, variations, fake-outs—everything Erza tried was transparent.
The cloaked figure always sealed off her lines of attack one step ahead, sometimes already waiting in the perfect spot before Erza even moved.
"Who the hell is this?!"
After only a dozen or so moves—
Clang!
With a sharp ring, Erza's "Flowing Water" was casually knocked from her hand, spinning and stabbing into the dirt.
"So strong…"
Erza stumbled back two steps, clutching her tingling wrist, her expression heavier than ever.
"I have to go all out!"
"Hah…"
She drew a deep breath; magic surged.
Light flashed, and her everyday clothes instantly shifted into a wild, speed-focused outfit with leopard patterns and beast ears.
Flight Armor.
If her technique was inferior, she'd use speed to make up the difference.
"So… you're finally getting serious?"
A soft laugh came from beneath the cloak—half approval, half nostalgia.
The next second, the future Erza stopped holding back too.
Her pale arm slipped out from under the cloak, instantly covered in bright silver, intricately patterned arm-armor.
Then—
Vmm!
The air trembled.
Dozens—hundreds—more swords appeared in midair.
They hovered behind her like a peacock spreading its tail, all tips aimed forward, radiating suffocating pressure.
"Then…"
Watching her own eyes widen, future Erza slowly lifted a hand.
"I'll get serious too."
…
While the two Erzas battled like mad—
Elsewhere, on Magnolia's riverbank—
"I bet ten moves!"
Gray—now in an unremarkable outfit—hid in the bushes, staring down at two kids brawling on the gravel and swearing confidently.
"Hah? Are you kidding me?!"
Beside him, Natsu spat a puff of flame in contempt.
"Ten moves? Current me versus current you—two punches is enough! Instant win!"
They'd followed their "past selves" here.
Because they knew themselves: after getting beaten by Mira at the guild, they'd absolutely come to the river to fight again and blow off steam.
While the two on the bank argued themselves red in the face, the fight below reached its "climax."
Bam!
Two fists hit two faces at the same time.
Then—
both kids rolled their eyes, ran out of juice, and collapsed, totally unable to get back up.
"A draw?!"
The two adults shouted in unison, unable to accept such a humiliating outcome.
"What a joke! How could I draw with this droopy-eyed idiot?!"
"Yeah! How could I not beat some upturned-eyed guy?!"
At that point, neither of them cared about hiding anymore.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
They jumped straight down from the riverbank.
Each grabbed their younger counterpart by the collar and started yelling at point-blank range.
"Hey! You bastard, Gray—what are you doing?!"
Adult Gray shook the boy's shoulders furiously, spit flying.
"That ice spear—your magic needs to be more concentrated! That sloppy mess—are you giving mosquitoes a bath?!"
"And you! Idiot Natsu!"
On the other side, Natsu screamed at his younger self.
"Fire Dragon's Iron Fist has to be more 'RAAAH!' You have to shout louder! Presence! Presence, you get it?!"
Their roars were so loud they practically shook the air.
…
"Magnolia's really getting noisier and noisier…"
On the street not far away, Shane—having just finished showing little Lucy around the guild—heard those two booming shouts and frowned.
That voice… sounded weirdly familiar.
But he didn't think too hard about it. He just sighed and looked down at the little girl beside him.
"Lucy, want to rent a carriage? It'll be quieter… and we won't have to walk."
"Okay!"
Little Lucy nodded obediently.
So they rented a two-horse carriage and rode slowly down the Central Avenue.
The sunlight was perfect, the breeze gentle.
Little Lucy leaned over the edge of the carriage, staring at the colorful shops and lively crowds, gasping in wonder now and then like a bird seeing the world for the first time.
…
Meanwhile, in a dark corner somewhere—
Future Lucy finally closed the heavy magic book.
"Ohhh… so that's how it works."
She recited what she'd decoded with full confidence.
"This book is called Time of Memories… the moment it opens, it transports you to the first time point the holder recalls."
As she read that, Lucy reflexively touched the "charm" hanging from her neck and suddenly understood.
"So that's why…"
"I was remembering the scene where Shane gave me this key, so I ended up back here."
"It really was… a nice memory."
Thinking about the glimpse she'd caught of her younger self, Lucy covered her cheeks, embarrassed, and bragged softly:
"Little me was so timid… kind of cute, actually! Hehe…"
But then, when she saw the next lines on the page, her smile froze.
"Wait… what's this?"
"Time-rewind effect lasts only six hours?"
"To return to the original timeline, all time travelers must touch the magic's trigger simultaneously before the time limit ends?"
"Otherwise, anyone who fails to make contact will remain in this era permanently?"
"S-six hours?!"
Lucy sprang up in terror, staring at the empty surroundings.
If she remembered right, she'd spent a full five hours decoding the book!
Which meant—
"Less than one hour left?!"
"No—no! I have to find everyone, now!"
Hugging the book tight, Lucy's heart pounded like thunder.
If she lost track of everyone—or left someone behind in this era—the consequences would be unimaginable.
She didn't dare waste time. She bolted straight toward the busiest Central Avenue.
"Excuse me! Coming through!"
The moment she hit the main road—
she stumbled in her panic, lost her footing, and nearly slammed into an oncoming carriage.
"Whoa—!"
The driver yanked the reins in alarm. The carriage screeched to a stop.
"Be more careful."
From inside the carriage came a familiar, gentle voice.
Then two figures hopped down lightly.
Shane, holding the hand of a startled little Lucy, frowned slightly as he looked at the reckless girl in front of him.
"You are…?"
~~~
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