MTLNOVEL Chapter 30: Chapter 30: "Kid… You're from Another World, Aren’t You?"
Chapter 30: "Kid… You're from Another World, Aren't You?"
Why was Makarov here?
Of course—because of Moen.
He had been quietly tailing him this entire time, ever since Moen first left Magnolia. From there to Clover, to the Vass Tree Sea, and now to this very cliff—Makarov had been silently following his grandson's journey.
This was Moen's first real mission.
His first time leaving Magnolia.
His first time out in the world as an independent mage of Fairy Tail.
And as both the Guild Master and a concerned grandfather, how could Makarov not be worried?
He'd made a habit of it. Every time a young mage took on their first assignment, Makarov would always follow in secret. Not because he didn't trust them—but because he cared. Quiet, steadfast protection. That was just the kind of grandfather he was.
Fortunately for him, Moen had exceeded expectations.
He had acted maturely, decisively—like a true Fairy Tail wizard.
That made Makarov incredibly proud.
It wasn't about favoritism.
He would've done the same for any of his children.
Because to Makarov… every child of Fairy Tail was his child.
"Don't worry about the details," Makarov said, cutting Moen off before he could even ask why he was here.
His tone was stern, eyes narrowed as he stared into the sky—at the pitch-black hole twisting reality above.
"We've got a bigger problem to deal with. Like that boy said—whatever that thing is, it's dangerous. We cannot let it finish."
His words were sharp and decisive.
And then—
"AAAAAHHHHHH!!"
A primal roar echoed across the mountaintop.
It came from Jellal, who was gritting his teeth and pouring every ounce of power he had into his staff.
Jellal was frantic now. Just moments ago, he was alone. Now there were two people behind him—both refusing to leave.
He hated it.
He didn't want anyone else to get hurt. If he failed when he was alone… then so be it.
But if others died because of him? That was a burden he couldn't bear.
"Moen!" Makarov barked. "On my mark, we'll channel magic into the array—together!"
"Got it!"
Moen didn't hesitate.
Makarov was the expert here—far beyond him in experience and magical control. When the old man gave orders, Moen followed.
He trusted him completely.
"Three… two… one—now!"
Makarov's eyes gleamed with precision as he found the exact moment to act.
A surge of brilliant light erupted from his palm as his magic poured into the arcane symbols around Jellal.
Moen followed suit.
He focused, channeling his magic core—letting his energy spiral upward into the exact same nexus point Makarov had used.
He wasn't just throwing power at the array.
He was matching it—step-for-step, pulse-for-pulse.
They couldn't afford even the smallest misstep.
"BOOMMMM!!!"
A powerful pulse of magic erupted outward.
The ground trembled. The symbols on the cliffside glowed blinding white. And above them, the black rift in the sky screamed—as if in pain.
The dark clouds twisted, recoiling from the impact of the combined forces.
Something had changed.
With the combined magic of Makarov and Moen pouring into the magic array, the tide finally began to turn.
Just moments ago, the black void in the sky had looked ready to crush Jellal completely.
Now, under the influence of the activated array, the rift began to rise—higher and higher—while also steadily shrinking in size.
The magic circle was working.
Jellal's eyes widened in disbelief.
They're actually helping...?!
He never expected them to be able to channel their magic into his formation—especially not that old man.
To directly inject magic into an external array…
That requires terrifying precision. You have to understand the entire structure down to its magical core.
He didn't just "help." He saved it.
Jellal was a specialist in magic arrays himself, so this feat hit him hard.
His heart surged with genuine respect for the elderly mage.
"BOOMMMM!"
With one final surge, the formation pulsed.
And in the sky—the black rift screamed in retreat.
The ominous clouds dissolved. The swirling chaos faded.
Sunlight broke through, and the heavens returned to a peaceful blue.
Everything… was calm again.
As if the nightmare had never happened.
"Huff… Huff… Huff…"
Jellal slumped forward, his legs failing him.
The only thing keeping him upright was the staff in his trembling hand.
"Jellal! Are you okay?"
Moen quickly stepped in, supporting him before he collapsed completely.
"Thanks, Moen," Jellal murmured, managing a faint, exhausted smile.
He turned next to Makarov.
"And you, sir… Thank you for helping too. I'm sorry for dragging you both into this. I should've handled it myself…"
Makarov just shook his head, his expression a mix of pity and admiration.
"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"
He could tell Jellal was the type to shoulder burdens alone.
That's why he'd tried to deal with all this himself—because he didn't want to endanger anyone else.
"That thing in the sky… What was it?" Moen asked, brows furrowed. "Is that why you were in such a hurry to leave?"
He couldn't ignore what had just happened. The sky had broken open. That wasn't normal.
The pressure had been immense. Even his own magic had grown unstable beneath it.
But when Moen asked, Jellal froze.
He opened his mouth to speak… but no words came.
He stammered. Fumbled.
Shame washed over him—thick and visible.
And then—
"Kid… You're from another world, aren't you?"
Makarov's calm voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Jellal's eyes went wide.
Moen froze too—until he quickly realized…
Wait. He's not talking about me.
The context, the look in Makarov's eyes—it was all focused on Jellal.
Moen let out a silent sigh of relief.
For a second there, he thought his secret had been discovered.
But that relief quickly turned into intrigue.
Wait a second.
Jellal… is a transmigrator? He's actually from another world?
He looked Jellal up and down.
Yeah… Now that he thought about it, it made sense.
That bizarre magic staff with its absurd mana reserves.
His strange, unfamiliar spells.
And—perhaps most telling of all—he had no natural mana of his own.
Honestly, he looks more like a transmigrator than I do.
"H-How… How did you know?" Jellal asked, completely stunned.
He didn't deny it. He didn't even hesitate.
He just… accepted it.
Moen stared.
Good lord. He really IS one. I was joking before, but it's real?
"Because I've had a friend," Makarov said softly, smiling, "who was just like you. We spent decades together."
Both Moen and Jellal were stunned.
"That… That's impossible," Jellal whispered.
What ELSE is this old man hiding?!
Moen didn't say it out loud—but in his heart, he was shouting.