The morning after the final stone was laid in his home, Krampus stood once more before the master's desk—this time not to ask, but to give. In his arms was a stack of magically reinforced scrolls, each labeled with careful calligraphy and sealed with his snowflake sigil. Makarov raised a bushy brow, taking a swig from his tankard of strong-smelling booze.
"More of your enchanted tricks, Krampus?"
Krampus set the scrolls down with a smirk. "Something better. This is the 'Martial God Body Forging Magic.' I want you to distribute it to the entire guild."
Makarov narrowed his eyes, leaning in.
"It's physical enhancement magic," Krampus explained. "No contracts, no oaths, no risks. Just daily practice—fifteen minutes a day, and you'll see results."
Makarov looked skeptical. "Sounds like a fitness scam."
Krampus chuckled. "I mean, it kinda is—but with real magic. The way it works is, you perform a mental magic formula that channels both your own reserves and ambient mana through every inch of your body. When combined with specific movements—yeah, they kinda look like a calisthenics dance—it triggers a refining effect. We're talking muscles, bones, nerves, internal channels, all getting worked and fortified."
That got the master's attention. "So it's like meditation?"
"Closer to body cultivation," Krampus said. "Most wizards grow weak when their mana runs dry. But this lets you stay sharp and strong even when you're empty. Your body becomes your weapon. Magic just boosts it."
Makarov stroked his beard. "Useful for field work. Especially long missions or rescues."
Krampus nodded. "Exactly. It scales too. Works with or without magic, and complements your original style."
He paused before adding, "Also… Earthland's been whispering. I feel something shifting—subtle, but real. Strengthening the guild's bodies might help our survival when things go sideways."
Makarov's eyes narrowed. "Prophetic mumblings already?"
"I don't like it either," Krampus muttered. "But I'm listening."
The old man unrolled a scroll and scanned the runic engravings and posture diagrams. His brows slowly lifted.
"This isn't just meathead training. There's elegance here. Breathing control, chakra calibration, tendon refinement… and what's this?"
"That version's for the ladies," Krampus grinned. "It boosts strength, balance, and agility while promoting an hourglass physique instead of turning them into muscle-bound juggernauts. Out of consideration for the straight guys in the guild, y'know. I'm nice like that."
Makarov laughed, loud and hearty. "You thought of everything, huh?"
Krampus shrugged. "Equal opportunity hotness. But let's be real—most of this is for the beefcake aesthetics. Gotta have a little joy in the world."
Makarov grinned. "Alright. I'll approve it. I'll assign a few of the active members to test it for a week. If it checks out, we'll add it to morning drills."
"Perfect."
Later that afternoon, Krampus found Laxus near the job board, flipping through request slips like they were playing cards. The kid looked restless. Krampus leaned down, voice just above a whisper.
"Hey. I made a special version of the body forging magic. Want it?"
Laxus perked up. "Special how?"
Krampus handed him a smaller scroll, sealed with his sigil. "This one's tuned to your lightning magic. It boosts your brain's processing speed and lets you sense electromagnetic flow better. Think of it like weight training for your reflexes. Plus, you'll get even more ripped."
Laxus blinked, then grinned wide. "Wait, I get my own version?!"
"Yup. Lightning-infused. Helps your mind, your magic, and your muscles. Might even catch up to me someday."
Laxus clutched the scroll like it was a legendary artifact. "Awesome! I'm gonna do it every day! Gonna get huge and zap stuff way better!"
Krampus chuckled. "That's the spirit. Just remember to do it right. Focus is key."
"I will! I'll do double time if it helps me beat you!"
Laxus struck a tiny flexing pose, his serious face completely undermined by his scrawny arms.
Krampus snorted. "One day, you'll be making the whole town faint when you take your shirt off."
Laxus burst out laughing. "That'll be so cool!"
He tucked the scroll into his jacket and sprinted off toward the training yard, shouting back, "Thanks, Krampus!"
Krampus watched him go, shaking his head fondly. "Kid's gonna be trouble."
Two weeks passed.
True to Krampus's claim, the Martial God Body Forging Magic proved a hit. Guild members who had never taken physical training seriously began to show visible improvement. Toned arms, firmer legs, thicker necks and backs—it was like the entire guild collectively decided to enroll in an elite boot camp. The changes didn't just affect looks; magical stamina improved too. Even the weakest mages found their reserves growing larger and more stable, while seasoned wizards gained newfound staying power. The magic's method—channeling one's own mana and ambient energy through a refining circuit of motion—became a staple part of daily routine.
Krampus often sauntered through the training yard with a knowing grin, arms crossed, tail flicking lazily. "This guild's gonna become the hottest threat in Fiore," he mused. "A nation of hunks with fireballs."
Among the most noticeable changes was little Laxus.
The boy underwent a minor growth spurt—not in height, but in density. His arms and legs thickened visibly, chest puffed out more, and his core took on the faint sculpting of muscle lines beneath smooth skin. For a six-year-old, he looked hilariously jacked. Not on the level of the grown-ups yet, but definitely beyond any child in Magnolia.
Laxus flexed shamelessly. He challenged adults to arm-wrestles, struck poses in the mirror, and referred to himself as "future muscle boss" when he thought no one was listening. Krampus personally trained him most days, adjusting his breathing, correcting his stance, and even demonstrating how to channel his lightning magic through the cultivation circuit.
"He's got spirit," Krampus muttered one morning, watching the boy perform katas shirtless under the sun. "Keep this up and I'll have competition in ten years."
He wouldn't say it aloud, but watching the guild grow stronger stirred something hopeful in Krampus. Not just pride—though there was plenty of that—but a quiet sense of security. Maybe he really was helping this world prepare for what was coming.
Or maybe he just liked watching beefy guys sweat in perfect synchronization.
As for the ladies, Krampus had included a specialized cultivation track for them as an afterthought. Less about muscle bulk, more about functional strength, agility, and aesthetic appeal. The result? A roster of beautifully toned women with hourglass figures and far more explosive power behind their spells.
The men of the guild noticed immediately. Some blushed. Others stared. A few started sweating more than usual when sparring. Krampus didn't comment—out loud, anyway—but privately kept track of who was staring too long and who was starting to get ideas.
The male guild members, meanwhile, couldn't stop checking themselves out in mirrors or reflective windows. Back muscles, biceps, abs—they were all becoming more defined by the day. Confidence soared. Shirtlessness increased. And while none dared say it outright, most had never felt better about themselves.
The guild had become hotter, yes—but it had also become stronger, tighter, and more alive. Krampus, leaning against the wall, tail swaying, sunglasses on, smiled wide.
"Project Beefcake: undeniable success," he muttered.
With the results speaking for themselves, Krampus decided it was time to make himself known around Magnolia. The city had seen a small but definite buzz about the sudden fitness explosion coming from Fairy Tail. Makarov remained hesitant about letting Laxus take on official jobs at his age, but the boy's boundless energy and constant pestering wore him down. Still, the master set a clear boundary—no dangerous quests.
Krampus, ever the tactician, found a middle ground.
He began accepting low-tier, harmless jobs around Magnolia—mending fences, re-aligning roof tiles, retrieving wandering pets, unclogging minor magical pipelines, and even calming down a runaway food cart possessed by a mischievous poltergeist. For each one, Laxus tagged along—officially as a helper, unofficially as both a student and PR booster.
To the townsfolk, Krampus was a towering, horned beastman wrapped in crimson velvet, with fur too neat to be wild and a glinting blue halo like a divine crown. Needless to say, first impressions were… mixed. Children stared, shopkeepers hesitated, and elders clutched their shopping baskets tighter.
"That's one big kitty," a kid whispered, eyes wide.
Krampus, understanding appearances mattered, adopted a soft-spoken tone, offered cheerful waves, and kneeled to help elderly citizens with their groceries or retrieve loose coins from the gutter. And with Laxus bouncing beside him, smiling and laughing, the image shifted.
People started calling out to him by name. He was offered lunch by the bakery whose dough he saved, thanked with handknit scarves from a sewing guild, and asked to pose for a portrait by an aspiring artist who claimed his physique was "a gift to muscled anatomy."
"See?" Krampus told Laxus with a knowing wink after bench-pressing a stack of crates for a swooning florist. "Beefy kindness melts suspicion like butter in midsummer."
Laxus, inspired and mimicking his gait, puffed out his chest and strutted beside him. "I'm the helpful muscle kitty too!" he declared proudly, trying to flex his arms.
Krampus chuckled, reaching down to gently tug at the boy's hair. "That's the spirit. Stick with me, and you'll be swarmed by admirers in no time."
As they walked to their next errand—a magical plumbing mishap at a bathhouse—Krampus also used the opportunity to teach Laxus about quest boards, reward negotiations, client etiquette, and how to fill out paperwork.
"Most of being a wizard," Krampus said, guiding Laxus through a form, "is admin work. Muscle comes after bureaucracy."
Laxus frowned. "That's boring."
"Welcome to adulthood, kiddo."
But boredom faded fast when they were thanked with warm rolls and mango tea.
By the end of the week, Krampus had not only helped dozens of townsfolk but also firmly planted the image of Fairy Tail's beastly protector in the minds of the locals. More importantly, Laxus was soaking in everything—how to talk to clients, how to assess jobs, and how to charm a crowd with muscle and manners.
And with every smile, handshake, and moment of gratitude, Krampus felt something unfamiliar flutter in his chest—something dangerously close to contentment.
"Maybe this is what being liked feels like," he muttered.
Laxus grinned up at him. "Huh?"
Krampus snorted. "Nothing, kid. Let's go be helpful muscle kitties."
After some time doing jobs around Magnolia, Krampus decided it was time to expand outward—start taking on jobs from nearby towns and cities. Most required a train ride to reach, which left him uncertain. The thought of traveling alone into unfamiliar places made his mane itch. But before he could plan, Laxus cornered Makarov.
"I wanna go with Krampus!" the boy insisted, puffing out his chest.
Makarov raised an eyebrow. "You're still six, Laxus."
"I've been doing the cultivation! Look!"
Laxus pulled off his shirt and flexed. His limbs were thicker, his chest broader, his mana aura noticeably stronger. The surrounding air crackled faintly with electricity. Under Krampus's guidance, Laxus had reached solid C-tier status.
Makarov sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Please, Grandpa," Laxus begged. "I'll be good. Krampus'll keep me safe. Right?"
Krampus, lounging nearby, gave a thumbs-up. "Wouldn't let a scratch touch him."
Makarov finally relented. "Fine. But only short jobs. Afternoon missions. No overnights."
"Deal."
To keep things within safe and agreed-upon boundaries, Krampus made it a strict rule to only take subjugation or resource-gathering quests that could be completed in a single afternoon. This ensured Laxus would be back before sunset and Makarov wouldn't pop a vein worrying. To make the travel time negligible, Krampus employed his Rule of Rending—not to slice enemies, but to cleave distance itself. With his magic eyes granting him up to five kilometers of visual range in any direction, Krampus simply picked a general bearing and blinked forward in rapid-fire bursts, warping the two of them forward in seamless five-kilometer increments. Laxus, ever the eager co-pilot, gripped Krampus's thick tail like a lifeline during the ride, laughing whenever the scenery blurred past.
Once the mission was complete, Krampus activated his Rule of Binding—not to chain foes this time, but to connect familiar spaces. With Magnolia well-anchored in his spatial memory, he linked their current location to the city and instantly pulled them through space back home, stepping through a gold-etched ripple in the air as if walking through a curtain. The entire process was smooth, efficient, and impressively punctual.
It was a system Makarov came to trust quickly. With each successful return before sundown, the master's tension lessened. He even stopped glancing toward the guild hall doors every ten minutes. Krampus and Laxus became a dependable afternoon duo, never requiring overnight stays or emergency backup. It was field training, bonding time, and regional PR—all wrapped up in a daily round trip.
Makarov relaxed noticeably once this system proved consistent. Krampus and Laxus never spent a night outside town, and jobs were done without delay.
Still, Krampus felt uneasy in towns outside Magnolia. The unfamiliar stares, the whispers, the frightened looks from civilians who hadn't yet warmed up to his towering lion-like appearance wore on him. Even with Laxus acting as a public relations buffer, the reception remained chilly.
To compensate, Krampus wore the enchanted hood on his coat, which he rarely pulls up, while on the job. The cloth, imbued with subtle charm spells, buried his facial features deep into the subconscious of those who looked at him. The effect rendered him as a strong, helpful beastman from Fairy Tail—but his exact face became an unremarkable blur in memory.
Laxus hated it.
"I don't get it," he pouted one day after a gathering quest. "You look so cool! Why hide it?"
Krampus smiled gently. "It's not about me, cub. It's about making people feel safe. One step at a time."
"I feel safe with you," Laxus muttered.
Krampus ruffled the boy's hair. "And I'm grateful for that. Means the world to me."
As the weeks went by, Krampus began establishing a presence beyond Magnolia. His name spread slowly, town by town. Always with Laxus by his side. Always with a job finished and a good deed done. And little by little, the fear turned to acceptance.
One blurry memory at a time.