With a deafening hiss, the locomotive ground to a halt against the station platform.
Plumes of thick white steam billowed from the front fuel car, washing over the bustling crowd.
Passengers carrying heavy luggage and oversized bags spilled out of the train cars, their overlapping voices breathing life into the morning air.
Chase drifted through the sea of people.
He slung his travel bag over one shoulder and strolled down the medieval-style cobblestone streets, taking in the sights of a city he had never visited.
This was Astrobia, a port city in the Fiore Kingdom situated right next door to Hargeon.
Nestled between towering mountain ranges on two sides and facing the endless ocean on the third, it sat in a rather remote corner of the map.
Following Master Makarov’s advice to get out and stretch his legs, Chase had browsed the guild board and picked an S-Class request with a moderate difficulty rating.
Astrobia was ground zero for the job.
Finding a vacant wooden bench along the bustling thoroughfare, Chase sat down and fished the crumpled request form from his jacket.
A bright red S stamped across the top corner caught the sunlight.
S-Class Request: Subdue the Pirates Rampaging in the Open Sea.
Request Content: In recent months, a mysterious group of pirates has been terrorizing the Astrobia sea routes.
They frantically attack passing merchant vessels, causing catastrophic financial losses and widespread panic.
Over a hundred innocent people have tragically died under their blades.
Please capture this extremely brutal pirate crew alive.
Request Reward: 9,900,000 Jewels.
Requestor: Marshall Whitedove.
Request Location: Astrobia South Coast, Abandoned Lighthouse.
Special Note: This request strictly requires capturing the pirates alive.
The mission is extremely dangerous.
Please accept with caution.
‘According to the old man, every single Mage who took this job vanished without a trace,’Chase mused, leaning back against the wooden slats.’Nobody returned.
Not even a scrap of clothing or a piece of a ship washed ashore.
That total blackout is the only reason the Magic Council bumped it up to S-Class.’ He stared at the sky, tapping a finger against his knee.
The ocean was unpredictable, sure, but an entire roster of capable Mages disappearing into thin air felt entirely too orchestrated.
Setting aside the sheer brutality of the pirates, logic dictated that there had to be days when they sailed out, found no targets, and returned empty-handed.
The ocean was massive.
This was the glaring contradiction Chase had chewed on during the entire train ride.
The missing Mages had undoubtedly crossed paths with the pirates.
That much was certain.
But unlike mountain bandits holed up in fixed strongholds or street thugs confined to narrow alleyways, these pirates operated on the open, boundless sea.
How did they manage to perfectly intercept every single Mage who came looking for them?
‘It isn’t like they have Observation Haki,’ Chase thought, a dry smirk touching his lips.
He cleared his throat, shaking off the stray thought, and pushed himself off the bench.
He needed more details, which meant tracking down the client.
The Abandoned Lighthouse listed on the flyer wasn’t exactly a hidden local secret.
Chase flagged down a few passing fishermen, offered a polite smile, and quickly secured directions.
The route led straight down the town’s main granite road and cut through a dense patch of tropical coastal jungle.
Emerging from the tree line, Chase stepped onto an overgrown patch of wasteland.
A towering lighthouse stood on the edge of a desolate coastal cliff.
The structure looked like it was losing a long, agonizing battle with the elements.
Its original white paint had completely surrendered to salt erosion, leaving behind irregular, sickly gray patches.
A rusted iron ladder clung to the exterior, groaning under the weight of the sea breeze that whistled through the metal grating at the base.
“Abandoned is putting it lightly,” Chase muttered, eyeing the crumbling stonework.
Without missing a beat, he crossed the dead grass.
A client offering nearly ten million Jewels for a bounty had no business living in a rotting coastal ruin.
It warranted a closer look.
He pushed against the heavy iron door on the ground floor.
It shrieked on rusted hinges, scraping against the stone as it gave way.
Shafts of pale sunlight sliced through the narrow, grime-caked windows, illuminating thick clouds of dust and the weeds sprouting through cracks in the floor tiles.
In the center of the dilapidated room, a gaunt man sat alone at a splintered wooden table, nursing a cup of tea.
“Hello there.
Are you Mr.
Marshall Whitedove?” Chase called out, his voice echoing in the hollow space.
The thin man flinched.
He set his teacup down with a rattle and squinted through the dusty light, inspecting Chase from a few meters away.
“Young man…
are you looking for me?” “That’s right.
I’m a Mage from Fairy Tail.
You posted the pirate bounty, correct?” Chase tapped the Fairy Tail guild mark stamped on his right arm, then pulled the red-stamped request form from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.
The man’s hollow eyes widened.
The numbness melted from his face, replaced by a frantic, trembling energy.
He scrambled out of his chair, lunging forward to grab Chase’s hand in a vice-like grip.
“Yes!
Yes, that’s me!
Thank the heavens!
I never imagined the most famous guild in Fiore would answer my plea!
Please, you have to help me catch those monsters!” “I understand this is urgent, but let’s take a breath,” Chase said, his tone calm and measured.
He smoothly extracted his hand from the man’s desperate grasp.
“That is exactly why I am here.” Up close, Marshall looked completely worn down.
He appeared to be in his early thirties, dressed in a faded, threadbare shirt.
His cheeks were sunken, and a jagged knife scar carved a brutal line across the right side of his face.
“Forgive me.
I…
I lost my composure.” Marshall lowered his head, gesturing toward the table.
He pulled out a rickety chair and poured a fresh cup of steaming tea from an iron kettle.
Chase took the seat.
After a brief exchange to verify the request details and confirm Marshall’s identity, he shifted straight to business.
“I read the flyer.
What specific characteristics do these pirates have?
I need to know exactly who I am hunting.” Catching the wrong crew of sea thugs would be a massive waste of time.
“I could never forget them.
Even if I were burned to ash, their faces are burned into my mind.” Marshall’s jaw locked, and his eyes darkened with a chilling intensity, making the scar on his cheek look even more menacing.
“Their flag bears the mark of a demon’s claw.
The captain wears a black top hat and a necklace strung with human skulls!” “Any other details?” Chase picked up the chipped teacup and took a small sip.
“Ship design, crew uniforms, or the specific types of Magic they use?” The tea hit his tongue.
It was violently bitter and astringent.
A far cry from the delicate blends Mira brewed back at the guild hall.
He forced it down without changing his expression.
Marshall’s face fell.
“I am sorry.
I remember the captain’s face perfectly, but as for their Magic…
I only saw the captain use a spell that shot massive streams of fire.” “Fire Magic.
Got it.” Chase gave a slight nod, committing the detail to memory.
He set the terrible tea down and studied the gaunt man across the table.
“May I ask why you issued this request?” Under normal circumstances, hunting down a heavily armed pirate fleet fell under the jurisdiction of the Fiore Kingdom’s Rune Knights or the Maritime Guard.
If not them, it would be a joint operation handled by the Guild Alliance.
The ragged man sitting in this rotting lighthouse did not look like a wealthy philanthropist spending millions of Jewels just to clean up the local waters.
Chase wasn’t worried about the money itself.
The Magic Council strictly audited the funds for S-Class requests before allowing them to hit the guild boards.
The ten million Jewels existed.
The real question was why Marshall had it, and why he was spending it this way.
At the question, Marshall’s grim expression twisted into pure agony.
He slammed his fist onto the wooden table, rattling the teacups.
Thick, bloodshot veins spiderwebbed across the whites of his eyes.
“Those beasts…
they slaughtered my wife and daughter.” His voice dropped into a guttural snarl.
“I need to look them in the eyes.
I will personally carve them into a thousand pieces and throw their remains to the sharks!” Tears spilled over his scarred cheek.
“That is my only condition!
You must capture them alive and drag them back to me!” Marshall slumped forward, his hands trembling.
“Every Mage who came before you failed.
They all failed…” He reached out again, his fingers digging desperately into Chase’s sleeve.
“Mr.
Chase, you are an S-Class Mage from Fairy Tail.
I am begging you.
Please help me.” “You are my absolute last hope.” This time, Chase didn’t pull away.
He looked at the broken man, his expression softening just a fraction.
He raised a hand and gave Marshall’s trembling shoulder a firm, reassuring pat.
“Relax,” Chase said, his voice steady and carrying absolute confidence.
“Fairy Tail isn’t like those second-rate guilds.” A ragged sob tore from Marshall’s throat.
“Thank you…
thank you…” “One last thing,” Chase said, letting the man cry it out for a moment.
“How exactly do I find them?” Marshall wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, his breathing ragged.
“I only know they ambush the main trade routes.
If you don’t have a tracking spell, your best option is to board a merchant vessel leaving Astrobia and wait for them to strike.” He looked down at his empty hands.
“That is what the other Mages did.
I just…
never saw them return.” Chase’s brow furrowed for a fraction of a second, a sharp glint passing through his eyes, before his expression smoothed over.
“Understood.
We will play it your way,” Chase said, standing up from the table.
“Thank you for the information, Mr.
Marshall.” [Akarin’s Note: Enjoying the story?