Eight months of the most chaotic, yet fulfilling, part of Blake's life had passed. It was now November of X772. Blake was stronger, faster, and had fully mastered all six of the Rokushiki techniques—having finally cracked the secret of Tekkai (Iron Body) and Kami-e (Paper Arts) during a particularly dangerous B-Class mission. He was a force to be reckoned with.
Cana, meanwhile, was slowly but surely adjusting to life in the guild, her days brightened by the presence of a caring family.
Then, the bell tolled.
The mechanical grinding and groaning of the city's Gildarts Shift announcement echoed across Magnolia. It was the signal that the guild's Ace was finally home.
The entire guild hall was in a fever pitch. This time, however, the atmosphere was a little different. Everyone was still excited, but they were also united in a single, focused anticipation, watching the main entrance.
This time, thankfully, Gildarts got it right.
With a massive thud and a cloud of dust, the main door swung inward. Gildarts Clive walked through the opening, his patched cloak billowing, his beard slightly longer, and a huge grin on his face.
The guild hall erupted in cheers. "GILDARTS!" "WELCOME HOME!" "YOU OWE US DRINKS!"
Gildarts laughed, soaking up the affection. "Glad to be back, brats! And yes, drinks are on me! First round, on the house!"
He navigated the crowd, exchanging high-fives and accepting a few punches, before making his way to the bar. He sat at the barstool opposite Makarov, who was perched on his usual seat.
Makarov was smiling, showing all his teeth, his eyes twinkling with mischievous delight.
Gildarts, wary of the Master's unsettlingly happy expression, leaned in. "Woah, Master. You look entirely too pleased with yourself. What's the matter? Did you win the lottery in my absence?"
"Nothing at all," Makarov replied, his smile unwavering. "I just feel good today. Terribly, wonderfully good."
Gildarts narrowed his eyes, accepting the non-answer but knowing better than to trust it. He shrugged and looked around. His gaze swept over the usual faces—Macao, Wakaba, Blake, Laxus (who was trying to hide a snicker behind his glass).
Then, Gildarts's eyes landed on a small figure sitting a few stools down. It was a little girl with big, brown, worried eyes. She was sitting in the exact same chair where Blake had sat when he had delivered his infamous 'Father' line eight months prior.
A powerful sense of déjà vu washed over him, chilling him to the bone. Oh no. Not again. Not another one.
He scanned the room quickly. The entire guild was pretending to be busy. Macao was vigorously polishing a mug that was already clean. Wakaba was reading a newspaper upside down. Laxus was staring intensely at the ice cubes in his drink. But he could feel their collective attention—they were all looking at him, waiting for him to make a move.
Gildarts sighed. He knew he had to address the new variable.
He leaned toward the girl, trying to sound casual. "Hey, kid. Are you new to the guild?"
The little girl, Cana, looked at him, her eyes wide. She was still a bit shy around the big, noisy mages. "Yes, I am Cana. I recently joined the guild about eight months ago," she said quietly.
Gildarts let out a huge sigh of relief. Okay, good. New member. Just a new face. It's not a thing. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Well, welcome to the madhouse, Cana. It's a pleasure to—"
Cana, having been coached for this moment by an entire guild of well-meaning mages, interrupted him. Her voice, though still quiet, was laced with a hopeful, desperate courage.
"And... I am your daughter."
The relief Gildarts had just felt vanished, replaced instantly by the sensation of thunder falling on him. His jaw slackened.
He mechanically lifted his head, slowly turning his gaze away from Cana and sweeping it across the room. Every mage, from the smallest rookie to the oldest veteran, was staring at him. Their faces were alight with ill-concealed mirth, patiently expecting his reaction.
Gildarts felt the panic rising, but his pride kicked in first. He had been tricked once. He wouldn't be tricked by the same joke, even if the guild had swapped out the actors.
He threw his head back and laughed. It was a loud, forced, bravado-filled laugh.
"HA! HAHA! Nice try, everyone!" he boomed, waving a dismissive hand. "I won't fall for the same joke twice! You seriously thought I'd start listing names again? Get better material, brats!"
The laughter echoed, but the guild remained silent. Their faces were still fixed on him, their smiles gone, replaced by expressions of cold, awkward realization.
Cana's small face crumpled. She had been so brave, and now her father was rejecting her, convinced it was just a funny game. Her expression turned gloomy, her eyes downcast.
The atmosphere in the guild instantly shifted from jovial to thick with tension.
Blake, who was sitting a few stools away, had seen enough. He got up and moved quickly to Gildarts's side, leaning in close to the Ace's ear.
"Gildarts-san," Blake whispered, his tone deadly serious, abandoning the joking facade. "She is really your daughter. Her mother was Cornelia Alberona. She died. Cana used the last of her savings to travel all the way here looking for you. She's been waiting eight months."
Gildarts's wide, joking smile finally shattered. Blake's voice, the seriousness of his eyes, the use of Cornelia's full name, and the finality of "she died"—it all struck him like a physical blow. He looked down at Cana, who was trying to hide her tear-filled eyes.
The reality, the responsibility, and the crushing weight of his own carelessness finally hit him.
He reached out a shaking hand, gently touching Cana's messy brown hair.
"Cana…" he murmured, his booming voice suddenly thick with emotion. He slowly reached down, pulling the little girl into a massive, tender embrace.
He held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. "Cana... oh, my beautiful Cana. It's me. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, little one." He squeezed her. "I wasn't there when you needed me. I'm so sorry I couldn't save your mother, Cornelia."
Hearing his voice, hearing her mother's name, and finally having her enormous, powerful father acknowledge her, Cana broke. She started crying, loud, wrenching sobs that shook her small frame as the memory of Cornelia and the exhausting, lonely journey flooded back.
She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, clinging to him with surprising strength, terrified that if she let go, he would run away and vanish forever.
Gildarts held her just as tightly, rocking her gently, tears tracking paths through his beard.
The entire guild, which had been silent, was now moved to its core. A cheer started softly and then erupted into a massive, tearful roar of joy. Everyone in the guild cheered as father and daughter were finally and truly united.
"WELCOME HOME, CANA! WELCOME HOME, GILDARTS!"
Gildarts finally pulled back, resting his forehead against Cana's. He looked up at the entire guild, his eyes wet but filled with genuine gratitude.
"Thank you, everyone," he said, his voice husky. "Thank you so much for looking after her. You are the best family a man could ask for."
He stood up, holding Cana securely on his hip. He looked at the wreckage of the barstools and the tear-streaked faces of his guildmates. His old, powerful grin returned, but this time, it was different—it was grounded, full of love and a renewed purpose.
"And you know what that means, right?!" he roared. "LET'S PARTY! And the drinks are on me! Not just the first round—the whole damn night!"
The cheers doubled, the sound rattling the windows.
Blake, standing quietly by the bar, watched the genuine, joyous chaos unfold. He hadn't succeeded in the joke, but he had accomplished the truth. He smiled to see father and daughter united. It was a dangerous, messy, but fundamentally good guild. And he was glad to be a part of it.