The four candidates returned to Magnolia, the air still humming with the residue of the day's events. The moment they stepped across the threshold of the guild hall, the building erupted.
Makarov was perched atop the bar, his voice booming with paternal pride. "HEAR YE! HEAR YE, MY CHILDREN! The S-Class Exam is concluded, and we have a new member among the ranks of our most elite mages!"
He raised his tiny, trembling fist. "Blake Corvus is officially Fairy Tail's newest S-Class Mage! And, for the record, the youngest in the history of Fiore!"
The roof nearly lifted off. A thunderous roar of cheers and applause shook the very foundations of the building. The guild members were ecstatic, celebrating not just Blake's achievement but the continued ascent of their family.
Blake, smiling broadly, raised his hands to quiet the crowd. "Hold on, hold on!" he shouted, his voice ringing with his own excitement. "As is tradition in this madhouse, the drinks are on the new S-Class mage! Drinks for everyone, on me! Tonight, we celebrate!"
The cheers grew louder, turning into a chaotic, joyous frenzy as dozens of mages rushed the bar.
Blake navigated the throng, grabbing two tankards overflowing with real alcoholic beverages. He knew exactly where he needed to go.
He found Laxus leaning against a wall, his expression still dark and broody, his powerful shoulders slumped in quiet humiliation.
The younger members of the Thunder Legion—Evergreen, Freed, and Bickslow—hovered anxiously nearby, unsure how to approach their leader.
Blake handed one of the tankards to Laxus. "Come on, don't be a sourpuss," Blake said, keeping his tone light and friendly. "You were only late by five seconds for the emblem. That's a hair's breadth in a magical race, Laxus. Cheer up. Maybe you'll become S-Class next year."
Laxus's hand wrapped around the cold tankard. He looked at the drink, then at Blake's honest, unpatronizing expression. The animosity he felt for Blake's victory was real, but so was the respect. The fight had cleared the air, and now the shared beer was sealing a truce.
He took a long, deep swig, then lowered the glass, a fierce glint returning to his eye. "I know," he said, his voice hard with renewed resolve. "I will definitely become S-Class next year. And wait for me to challenge you after that, Blake. I'm going to kick your butt and take that spot."
Blake threw his head back and laughed loudly, a joyful, unrestrained sound. "Now that's the Laxus I know of! I'll be waiting, Thunderhead. You'd better bring the full power of dragon slayer magic next time!"
As the two young titans talked, clinking their mugs and sealing their rivalry in ale, the celebration around them intensified.
Across the bustling guild hall, Cana Alberona was perched on her usual stool, surrounded by the usual stacks of cards, but she was entirely distracted.
She was looking at Blake sneakily with a slight blush. Blake, standing tall and strong, his face alight with pride and friendship, had never looked cooler.
In Cana's young, infatuated mind, the boy who had once given her a roof over her head had just reached the apex of power, fighting the strongest man in the guild and walking away an equal. She was completely infatuated with him.
In her hand, she held a large wooden mug. She was sneakily drinking from it, hiding it partially behind a deck of cards. She was only nine, and while she had dabbled in her father's drinks, tonight the temptation was too great.
It started innocently with a small sip. She liked the bitter, warm taste. Then, one full glass. The world felt warm and fuzzy. Then two, then three. The liquid courage was flowing. She lost count around ten servings, her small body completely overwhelmed by the strong alcohol.
She started giggling, then swaying. Soon, she was fully intoxicated.
She looked across the room at Blake, her vision swimming, the love and admiration overwhelming her ability to filter. She lifted her hand and pointed an unsteady finger at her unwitting hero.
She blurts out, her voice loud and surprisingly clear in the momentary lull of the crowd, "Blake is so cool! And handsome! And... and he's the best! And I like him a lot!"
The effect was instantaneous and total. The background noise of hundreds of people cheering, slamming mugs, and shouting congratulations fell into a pin-drop silence.
Every mage froze, their mugs halfway to their mouths, their faces turned toward the small, swaying girl and her accidental, alcohol-fueled declaration of affection.
In that devastating, echoing silence, only one sound could be clearly heard.
A heart-wrenching, theatrical sound of breaking timber—the symbolic sound of a father's world shattering.
Gildarts, who had been laughing uproariously at a nearby table, clutched his chest with both hands, his eyes wide and vacant. The heartbreak was almost physical. He looked from his drunk, infatuated daughter to the man she was infatuated with.
Slowly, terrifyingly, Gildarts rose from his seat. His playful demeanor evaporated, replaced by the full, focused, murderous gaze that he usually reserved for destroying ancient demons.
He strode over to the bar, his huge frame dwarfing Blake.
"You… you BASTARD!" Gildarts roared. He grabbed Blake by the collar of his shirt, lifting the young S-Class mage easily up from his chair until they were eye-to-eye. "What did you do to my sweet princess?! You used your newfound fame to corrupt my innocent Cana?!"
Blake was suspended in the air, his feet dangling, a genuine bead of sweat dripping down his temple.
The look in Gildarts's eyes was genuinely terrifying, far worse than the controlled power he had faced moments ago.
"Gildarts-san! I didn't do anything!" Blake stammered, trying to diffuse the situation with logic. "She's just... drunk! I've been with Laxus this whole time! I swear!"
Gildarts was having none of it. "Drunk? Intoxicated by your power, you little snake! You said to push you enough to make or break, right?! Well, you just broke my heart, and now I'm going to break you!"
Gildarts turned, still clutching the terrified Blake. "Let's go to the backyard! I have some training to give you, you little home-wrecker!"
Blake desperately looked over Gildarts's shoulder, seeking salvation. He looked at Makarov, who was sitting at the bar, conspicuously polishing a mug and humming a cheerful, innocent tune.
He looked at Macao and Wakaba, who were suddenly engrossed in a deep, philosophical discussion about pipe tobacco. He looked at Laxus, who simply took a massive swig of his ale and refused to meet Blake's eye.
They were all distracting themselves, perfectly content to sacrifice the newest S-Class mage to the paternal fury of the Ace.
With a final grunt of exertion, Gildarts threw Blake out of the guild hall, sending him spinning through the air and landing roughly in the snow-covered clearing.
As he was thrown, Blake shouted in genuine, betrayal-fueled outrage, "YOU COWARDS!"
The moment the duo disappeared, the entire guild burst into raucous laughter. The tension was broken, replaced by uproarious amusement.
Gildarts's enraged roar could be heard moments later from the distance.
Throughout the night, Gildarts chased after Blake with the full, destructive force of a father scorned.
Blake was forced to run from Gildarts for his very life, the only S-Class mage fast enough to survive the pursuit. It was the hardest, most necessary lesson in the true cost of being Fairy Tail's newest superstar.
The party continued until dawn, fueled by laughter, ale, and the distant sounds of the Ace chasing the youngest S-Class mage across Magnolia.