From the time those trips to the little forest started, life settled back into its usual fast clip. Months rolled by. Erza and I kept taking missions, S-rank mostly, and we rarely brought other mages along anymore. Just lived that life.
My plans for "actual magic research," though, were really only getting off the ground. Building a proper lab from scratch to my exact specs isn't like hammering together an outhouse. It took hundreds of people and an absurd amount of time. Just the construction ate up about four months, and that's with mages involved. Tracking down the equipment took even longer. Take the blood analyzer alone, a massive beast of a machine the size of a couple of standard rooms. That thing required teams of master craftsmen just to get off the ground. First I had to consult, figure out what technology was even feasible to build, then parcel out different pieces of it to different sets of hands to actually make real. Assembling components, layering runes and enchantments, programming certain modules through Archive Magic, the whole nine yards.
The sad truth is that as someone reborn, even with the experience of two lifetimes under his belt, I was kind of deficient. I had zero idea how to cobble nanobots together from scrap in a shed, and to produce anything genuinely groundbreaking I needed seriously high-end conditions. Fortunately, those were being built up at a reasonable pace, at least.
Back in the world of my original life, I'd been handed an enormous head start by birth itself. In this world, I had to grind for it before I reached anything comparable. But in both worlds I had, and still have, one factor that, while not all-encompassing, played a massive role in what I became back home. Which is to say: a ridiculously powerful existence that had blown way past the biological and energetic limits long ago.
My Awakened Soul lets me continuously grow the strength of that soul. And soul strength has a huge bearing on the limits of your perceptual sensitivity and energy control. That applies to every being, even if other factors matter too: affinity, innate brain capacity, and in this world, the ability to channel emotions into magic, plus a handful of smaller things. But the fact remains, soul strength counts for a lot. It's why some people have an almost effortless touch with magic while others are thoroughly mediocre. The soul plays no small part in that. Some people are just born with stronger souls, and by extension, greater potential for energy sensitivity and control. None of them actually use their soul's energy or even perceive themselves as a soul the way I do. But the factor influences them all the same.
So, roughly doubling my soul's strength every year, my control grew at a staggering rate. It didn't turn me into some murder-machine cyborg, but it let me bridge the technological gap in medicine between this world and the one I came from.
Medicine doesn't get much respect around here. Say enough when Porlyusica, with her modest little forest cottage, is considered one of the best healers in the region, even though her material resources are, by my standards, very low.
There were brilliant minds here, of course, and local mages had studied plenty of things at a decent level. Just not genetic engineering directly. Or maybe someone had, Zeref somehow built his demons after all, but I couldn't find that research anywhere, not in public, not even in semi-restricted channels. So walking up to some kind soul and borrowing their notes wasn't in the cards. I'd have to break through on my own. With a lab staff, sure, but still.
Getting clearance to build the whole thing wasn't hard for me personally. The headache of wading through mountains of paperwork fell on my minion Varick and his subordinates, while I kept myself occupied with the wholesome duties of a Fairy Tail mage. Beating up other mages. Cutting down creatures of various sizes. And occasionally, very rarely, doing something that didn't involve violating the rights of humans or animals.
The lab wasn't ready for operation until summer, six months in. And it went up right there in Magnolia. I wasn't planning to do anything illegal there, no dissecting people or mages. The "clean" work had its perks: no logistical nightmares, no shortage of helping hands.
And so my little baby project got to work. Specifically, it studied how magical plants and a range of other materials affected animal bodies, and how to replicate those effects through magic.
That process relied heavily on me personally, my control, my sensitivity, both of which were only amplified by the lab equipment acting as a set of crutches. I could analyze effects on a much deeper level than anyone else, and on top of that I could charge lacrima crystals with Ethernano far closer in composition to the original source. And as head boss, I steered the research toward whatever directions interested me most. The rest of the lab staff handled the actual running of the place: carrying out experimental iterations per the plan using the lacrima I left them, doing the more surface-level analyses, managing documentation, and placing material orders with outside mages.
With the right approach, none of it ate up too much of my time, because tasks other people could handle, other people did handle. I paid them out of Varick's pocket and slowly, since observations after certain treatments can drag on for ages, reaped my rewards.
Again, though, this whole thing was a long game. Sadly, you don't put together something as complicated as a fusion reactor in a few months. And I wasn't trying to.
So, months passed. Again. Despite our guild's general chaos, we weren't getting dragged into anything seriously nasty. Except for the time Makarov, at the guild masters' summit, beat the hell out of Jose Porla, a Wizard Saint and the master of Phantom Lord, for daring to insult Fairy Tail. Gramps bragged about it for at least a week straight. But since it never escalated into a guild war, you could call it a relatively quiet period.
Natsu, who'd gotten close to Lisanna, Mirajane's sister, found a pretty massive egg out in the forest one day.
Natsu was convinced it was a dragon's egg, so he and the girl sat on it trying to hatch it. Until a blue talking cat busted out of the shell. They named him Happy.
So all in all, nothing out of the ordinary for this world.
The one for whom the approaching year's end turned out to be, shall we say, significant, was my minion.
Interlude
Varick Aquavit sat at his desk with a deeply unpleasant expression, sifting through expense reports. Muttering his favorite animal-based comparisons under his breath, he cursed his red-haired "boss."
"The family's already taken losses. And with that leech bleeding us dry, we've only now managed to claw the budget back to where it was last year. The absolute nerve of—"
He kept cursing the same young man, whose activities were running him into the ground financially. And his family had only been released from the previous arrangement because, while they were staggering under the costs of Tower R, competitors had had time to rise. And since those competitors were closer to the water trade and had more resources, it was them the dark mages had switched to. Or so Varick had told himself. But now...
"Out of one trap and straight into another. And everyone wants something from us," the man muttered, shaking his head, until a buzzing lacrima pulled his attention away. "Speak of the devil."
With barely contained fury he reached for the orb, schooled his face into something professional, and took the call.
"Varick Aquavit speaking, Lord Elian."
"How's it hanging, minion?" came the mocking voice from the small sphere, where a thirteen-year-old mage could be seen sprawled across a couch like he owned the place. "Actually, doesn't matter. I want to see you in person, with a report. Full detail, as always."
Keeping his expression carefully neutral, the man followed up.
"Shall I prepare rooms at my estate? Or will this be a short visit?"
"Nah, I'm not dragging myself all the way out there. You come to me, in Magnolia. See you in a week."
The young mage delivered that last line in a tone that managed to be both casual and a strict order, then simply cut the connection. Varick had to put in considerable effort not to hurl the orb directly at the wall.
"Travel halfway across the country to hand-deliver a stack of paperwork?! He can go straight to—"
The aristocrat launched into a colorful string of commentary about his employer. Only after a good two minutes, once he'd cooled down enough, did he start contacting his subordinates.
To Varick's satisfaction, the reports themselves weren't a problem. Over the past month he'd finally trained several of his family's stewards to handle them on his behalf, which meant the blue-haired man now had his time mostly to himself. Except, of course, that he'd just been ordered to drop everything and haul a stack of papers halfway across the country, presumably to answer a few questions in person that could just as easily have been handled over lacrima. But the orders of his infuriating boss had to be followed. Varick had long since stopped enjoying the outdoors, forests especially, and the idea of ending up in one again held zero appeal.
Naturally, Varick wanted, desperately, with his whole heart, to get out from under the thumb of that horrible Fairy Tail mage. But he simply couldn't. And not only out of fear for his life. The very thought of telling anyone about Elian sent a searing pain through him. He couldn't even begin to think through who he might hire to deal with the problem, or how difficult it would be, because doing so would require telling someone about Elian. Taking down an S-rank mage would require someone from the upper echelons of the Balam Alliance, and Aquavit wanted to deal with those "fine upstanding mages" even less than he wanted to deal with his current situation. And yet, yes. Thinking about having his boss killed, or mentioning him to anyone, was physically impossible. As was getting rid of that affliction itself.
Days passed, and the aristocrat climbed into a magic carriage and set off for Magnolia. He had no interest in wasting time on trains, so he ordered his driver to take the most direct route. The count's finances were more than sufficient to cover the lacrima costs for a trip of that length.
And so, book in hand, Varick made his way toward the city where that one chaotic guild was based.
"Günter! That's the second time you've stopped to take a piss! How many times, you disgusting little skunk?!" the count bellowed at his subordinate when the carriage stopped for the second time.
But this time, no pitiful excuses came back. Instead there was the sound of a carriage door, and voices drifting in from outside.
"Here, as agreed."
"You warm an old man's heart with your consideration, sir. I'll leave you to it."
"Get in with us. We'll be done shortly."
Varick froze for a moment, then kicked open the door and stared. Standing outside were his boss, his boss's sister, and his own family's servant, who was walking briskly toward another carriage with a fat envelope in hand.
"What is the meaning of this?! You—"
The water mage never got to finish. He was cut off in the most definitive way possible: a blade driven straight into his chest.
"Revenge. Plain and simple," the red-haired boy said coldly, watching the life drain from the blue-haired man's eyes. "Come on, Varick. Did you really think I'd just forget? Your people killed the surrogate parents of my sister and me. Condemned hundreds to death, or to death after agonizing suffering. Many of them were close to us both."
The water mage tried to say something in response but only managed a wet gurgle.
"As for your family's business, don't worry about it. Your house will pass into the capable hands of my people, and one of them will become count in your place. Lucky for us, those thorough reports of yours mean we can take over your duties without missing a beat." Varick's eyes went wide as the realization hit: he hadn't just been indulging the caprice of an overly anxious employer. He had, quite literally, been digging his own grave by making himself replaceable. "You even trained most of them yourself. Isn't that something? Now, time to finish this."
The red-haired boy twisted the blade sharply, and Varick, eyes bulging, slipped into unconsciousness from the shock of pain. He would not be waking up from the blood loss.
"A count. An experienced mage. Taken out by common bandits. What a shame," the boy said, letting out a satisfied hum, the kind you make when you've finally checked something long overdue off a list. Then he turned to the girl. "No complications. Thanks for covering me, though."
"It's my duty," she said flatly, her tone more a product of the moment than any coldness toward him.
"I'll take a quick look at the documents. Then we burn everything."
Elian Scarlet's POV
Erza nodded and headed back to the carriage we'd come in. I pulled on the artifact-lensed glasses, skimmed through the reports, satisfied myself that there was nothing I hadn't already been told, then hauled Varick's body into the vehicle, drove off the road into a field, and lit the whole thing on fire.
And with that, the matter of revenge was settled. The three of us, me, little sis, and the now-very-well-compensated driver of a recently deceased aristocrat, headed back to Magnolia. We dropped off the passenger, who'd be keeping his mouth shut partly for the money and partly because of what he'd just watched, and went our separate ways.
Honestly, the revenge itself hadn't cost that much. The preparation was the bulk of the work. Getting a grip on the right board of directors at a construction firm had taken me a year. Men who watch an aristocrat get killed tend not to put up much resistance. I wouldn't be pushing them too hard anyway; no point giving people a reason to come at you.
As for the count's title, Varick was reasonably young and hadn't bothered writing a will. Conveniently, someone with very precise control finds it no great trick to replicate a magical seal keyed to Varick's specific magic signature, or something close enough, and install their most loyal subordinate as his successor. Of course, I'd had to grease a few palms among the stuffy old relics at the Magic Council on one side, and a few more on the royal palace side in Fiore on the other, to make sure nobody asked awkward questions about the sudden change in management. The new Count Aquavit handled that himself. He's not even a Water mage, by the way, which feels like a basic expectation for that family name. He's a weak Wind mage. But honestly, who cares?
So, leaving my subordinates to sort out the pile of loose ends while making sure to remind them of my existence on a regular basis, I found myself with plenty of free time once again. Work is work, but rest matters just as much.
After those minor reshufflings in the Aquavit household, life settled back into its ordinary rhythm. Guild missions from Fairy Tail to keep the soul from going stale, pastry shop runs for the same reason, and the newly added research sessions in the lab. Nothing particularly noteworthy beyond that.
Right up until the end of the year, when the S-Class Advancement Exam rolled around again, and this time yours truly was given the honor of serving as one of the examiners.
It all started calmly enough. The announcement of who'd be participating, obviously. And naturally, my little sister's name was on the list.
Alongside her they'd selected Mirajane, and a handful of other mages, mostly for the experience and to fill out the roster.
The exam kicked off. Since the guild's resident mountain-destroyer was out on a mission again, nobody bothered setting up a special testing ground, and the format shifted to a hunt instead. We took an S-rank assignment and headed out to cull a population of fire wyverns that had gotten out of hand. Dragons on a budget, basically. They breathe fire sure, but they're dumber and they've got two legs instead of four.
Erza handled it brilliantly even without my input. She was perfectly capable of tracking down monsters on her own, even if not quite as efficiently as she'd be with me there.
Mirajane, from what I heard, did just fine too.
My job was to keep an eye on two Fairy Tail mages I barely knew and make sure they didn't get themselves eaten. I barely knew them because they had a habit of being unconscious under a table and kept the most chaotic waking schedule imaginable. As it turned out, neither of them managed to drop a single wyvern. And the quota was one per person.
With only two competitors left standing, Makarov took about half a second to decide: fight it out. So the girls went at each other.
Their fight, mostly because of Mirajane, was something to see. Spectacular, at least. The white-haired girl, absorbing demonic power and expanding her Ethernano capacity, had grown into a genuinely formidable mage. Her mastery, though, hadn't quite kept pace.
Dark violet beams of demonic energy kept snapping off her hands, or explosive orbs would go shooting out like bullets, or both at once. By the time they were done, a solid couple square kilometers of terrain had been thoroughly rearranged.
Unfortunately for Mira, Erza had mostly just been giving her room to put on a show. Once she slotted into the right armor, she made fairly short work of her increasingly winded opponent.
So, with one side swearing revenge and the other archly suggesting her opponent might want to examine her complicated feelings about pain, little sis earned her S-rank, while Mira watched her shot fly south for the winter.
After that, the life that had already become routine continued on, again without anything to write home about. Which was honestly fine. The quiet was good. It gave you room to focus on getting better.
Years passed. By the time I was sixteen, I'd made serious headway in medicine, overlaid a solid chunk of knowledge from my previous world onto Ethernano theory, and moved on to the next phase. Now it was time to look into how one might go about picking up some raw power. Fortunately, there were some interesting options involving demons and dragons right within reach, just waiting to be examined.