Rayne slowly opened his eyes, greeted by an unfamiliar wooden ceiling.
A strange, pungent odor hung in the air.
"Ugh… it stinks…"
His small face scrunched up like a sour orange, his voice thick with disgust.
Still, beneath the foul smell, the throbbing pressure in his head—caused by absorbing his past-life memories—had eased somewhat.
Sitting up, Rayne glanced around the room.
It was simple and sparse, with two or three small wooden beds—one of which he'd been occupying. A long strip of white cloth was tied and draped in the middle.
A gentle breeze carried fresh air through the window, and sunlight streamed in, illuminating specks of dust floating like tiny spirits.
This was unmistakably a place for the wounded.
Outside, muffled voices could be heard.
Unable to stand the stench any longer, Rayne followed the sound toward the door. Sure, the smell helped with his post-memory-absorption headache, but that didn't make it any less unbearable!
As he neared the entrance, a woman's voice grew clearer.
"So, what happened over there?"
"It's… complicated," a man's voice replied.
"Then simplify it."
"Those guys were part of the Dark Guild, the Black Magic Cult. A bunch of fanatics who worship the legendary dark mage, Zeref, and want to resurrect him."
"Ugh, humans really are as disgusting as ever." The woman's voice dripped with open disdain.
"The R-System guys, huh?"
Thanks to his awakened memories, Rayne immediately understood.
No wonder they were kidnapping kids—they needed labor to build the Tower of Heaven.
"The boy should be waking up soon. Take him with you when he does."
Hearing this, Rayne didn't bother pretending to still be asleep. He pushed the door open and stepped outside.
Two figures stood before him.
One was a short, bearded old man.
The other was a middle-aged woman with long pink hair and a flowing cape.
Thanks to his merged memories, Rayne recognized them instantly.
His gaze settled on Makarov—he faintly remembered seeing him before passing out.
Back then, the energy inside him had been completely dRayned, as if squeezed dry by some monstrous force. His body had been left hollow, his spirit sapped, and he'd lost consciousness.
If not for their help, he might not have survived.
"Thank you for saving me."
His voice was sincere.
"Don't worry about it. You just overused your magic. A few days of rest, and you'll be fine."
Makarov waved it off casually, then hesitated before asking,
"Do you remember what happened before you blacked out?"
He looked slightly guilty—it wasn't exactly a pleasant topic to bring up. But he needed to steer the conversation forward.
"...Yeah."
Rayne's expression darkened, his tone heavy.
Even with his past-life memories, he couldn't just ignore the pain of this life's experiences.
Still, the shock of those memories had numbed him enough to keep from breaking down.
That said, he'd definitely burned the Black Magic Cult's name into his mind.
The ones who'd attacked his village were already dead, true.
But they weren't the only ones in the world.
If he didn't wipe them all out, he'd feel like his memories had awakened for nothing.
"I'm Makarov, master of the Fairy Tail guild."
Relieved that Rayne wasn't bursting into tears, Makarov continued,
"If you're okay with it, you can join our guild."
Not wanting to seem like he was taking advantage, he quickly added,
"Of course, you can visit first and decide later."
"If you'll have me, I'd be honored."
To Makarov's surprise, Rayne agreed immediately.
The moment he'd woken up and realized where he was, Rayne had already guessed why he'd been brought here.
If he refused, he'd likely end up in some church-run orphanage.
And beyond that—if he wanted the power to fight the Black Magic Cult, he needed someone to teach him magic.
Not every member of the Ten Wizard Saints was a powerhouse, but every one of them was a top-tier mage.
Makarov, as one of the Saints, was not only strong but also kind-hearted—the best possible mentor.
Plus, the man had saved his life.
All things considered, Rayne had zero reason to refuse.
"Wait, is my reputation that huge now? Kids just agree to join after hearing my name?!"
Unaware of Rayne's thoughts, Makarov puffed up with pride, a goofy grin spreading across his face.
"Come here. Let me check you."
Porlyusica, who'd been silent until now, grabbed Rayne by the collar and hauled him back inside.
Rayne hated being carried like this, but his tiny body was no match for her. He hung limply as she dragged him off.
After a quick examination, she confirmed that aside from magic exhaustion and fatigue, he was fine.
"Take your medicine and rest. And once you're done, get out of my house. Don't bother me!"
With that, Porlyusica pointed sharply at the door.
"We'll see you later, then."
Makarov, long used to her attitude, just chuckled.
"Don't come back unless it's urgent. Actually, don't come back even if it is."
Porlyusica scowled and turned back to her herbs.
"Thank you."
Ignoring her rudeness, Rayne bowed sincerely before hurrying after Makarov.
Since Porlyusica hated humans, her home was quite a distance from Magnolia.
Rayne's small body—paired with an adult's willpower—just barely got him through the trek.
By the time they reached Magnolia, the sky was already painted gold by the setting sun.
Inside the town, cobblestone paths replaced dirt roads, and rows of charming houses lined the streets.
A canal cut through the town, its gentle burbling mixing with the cheerful chatter of passersby.
People waved warmly at Makarov as he passed, their faces bright with familiarity.
Finally, after what felt like forever, they stopped in front of a grand three-story building.
A sign above the entrance read: [FAIRY TAIL].
Bathed in the evening light, the guild's yellow flag snapped in the wind, its white fairy emblem dancing—as if running, or perhaps flying toward the golden sun.
"This… is Fairy Tail!"
Makarov climbed the steps, then turned and stretched out a hand to the boy below, grinning widely.
"And from now on… it's your home too."