"I asked a question, and I expect an answer. Just what the fuck is going on here?" Damian demanded, his amber eyes locked onto the scene.
"Allow me to explain," Sheila spoke up, her tone entirely casual as she gestured toward the two kids.
"These two here got into a slight exchange. Juvia and… sorry, what was your name again?"
"It's Gajeel. Gajeel Lionheart," Gajeel grunted, crossing his arms.
"Ah, yes. Gajeel Lionheart. Quite a fitting name, if I do say so myself. Matches that inhuman glare of yours."
"A slight exchange, huh?" Damian's gaze drifted over the shattered wood, smashed tables, and scattered rubble around them. "I'd say it's a little more than that. Don't you agree?"
"Hmm," Sheila pondered for a second, tapping her cigarette. "I guess. But they are just children, after all."
"Kids or not, they wrecked part of the guildhall, and probably some of the corridors, too," Damian shot back, his voice firm. "They need to be punished. Otherwise, someone else is going to think they can do the exact same thing."
Juvia, unable to handle Damian's intense, frightening glare, ducked her head and bowed slightly. "We're sorry… it won't happen again."
"We? Who the heck is 'we'? Speak for yourself, Juvia," Gajeel said, shooting her a look. "Why should I apologize for fighting? This is Phantom Lord. Fights happen everywhere."
"While that's true, have you ever seen a fight that actually damaged this place?" Sheila pointed out, gesturing to the surrounding mages. "Everyone here fights with their fists for a reason."
"There are some unwritten rules in this place, boy," Damian said, stepping closer and gesturing to the hall. "When there's a disagreement or an argument, most of the time it ends in a brawl. But if you actually paid attention, you'd notice we keep magic attacks to a minimum. Ever wonder why that is?"
"Uh," Juvia stammered, her voice shaking slightly. "It's so you don't damage the guildhall, right?"
"Correct!" Damian nodded at the girl's answer. "To you two, this place might just be a playground. But to us…" He gestured out to the dozens of Phantom Lord wizards watching from the shadows.
"…it's our way of life. Being a wizard isn't just a job; it's the very way we live day to day. You two destroying everything is like trampling over our pride. Our values, our very existence as wizards."
Juvia looked more apologetic than ever, shrinking back as she muttered another quiet, defensive "Sorry…"
"And I should care because… why, exactly?" Gajeel raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered. "I don't care about your guys' existence. And don't go forcing your beliefs on others. It just makes you look rude and arrogant."
"You don't care?" Damian clenched his teeth, his anger visibly spiking. "Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?"
Hearing Gajeel's blatant disrespect, multiple older wizards in the crowd began shouting in anger, rioting at the kid's attitude.
"Answer me," Damian ordered, his voice dropping an octave as his temper flared. "Answer me! How dare you—"
"Wait a moment," Sheila interrupted, stepping slightly between them. "How about you all just calm down and drop the anger? He is a mere child, is he not?"
Damian's sharp eyes snapped over to Sheila, his patience completely evaporating. "Did you just order me to calm down…?"
He took a menacing step forward, his glare darkening. "Don't get cocky with me just because of that arrogant attitude and your model-like beauty, bitch!"
With a sharp wave of his hand, the cigarette between Sheila's fingers violently combusted into a bright flash of fire. The fire quickly spread, roaring down the paper and enveloping her entire leather-gloved hand in dark flames.
But before the fire could do any real damage, a sudden ring of water swirled around Sheila's wrist. It surged forward, completely coating her hand and dousing the flames in a cloud of thick steam.
Juvia stepped forward, placing herself protectively in front of Sheila.
"That is quite enough out of you," Juvia said, her jaw set as she stared down the S-Class Mage. "I will not stand here and let you bring harm to Sheila."
"You're really starting to piss me off. All of you," Damian growled, his deep scowl twisting his face into something truly predatory.
Behind Juvia, Sheila calmly placed her uninjured hand on top of the girl's head. Her expression hadn't changed at all, looking completely unfazed by the sudden attack. "I appreciate the help, Juvia."
Juvia's face flushed a light pink, her tough front wavering for a fraction of a second. "Can you please take this seriously…?"
"Let's get one thing straight with you people. I couldn't care less about this guild, or its 'unwritten rules' for that matter," Gajeel spoke up, breaking the tension as he stepped into the light. "I only joined this place to begin with because I was curious about Jose's kingdom of monsters."
["If I intend to create a kingdom filled with monsters, then it is only natural that I become a greater monster than all of them."]
Recalling Jose's words brought a bitter taste to Gajeel's mouth. The ugly truth was, he had also joined because of the sheer humiliation and deep fear he had felt from Jose's crushing aura that day.
Damian narrowed his eyes, his focus shifting back to the Dragon Slayer. "Do you even know who Master Jose is, boy?"
"Of course I do. He's the Guild Master, isn't he?"
Damian didn't answer right away. He cast a brief glance back at Sheila. Thanks to Juvia's quick instincts, the doctor's arm was completely uninjured.
Though, truth be told, even if Juvia hadn't jumped in, Sheila wasn't worried. She was more than confident she could handle Damian on her own if things came to blows.
"Allow me to make something clear to you," Sheila said, locking eyes with Gajeel as she adjusted her posture. "A Guild Master is the absolute executive head of an organization. Their word wields unchecked authority over every single subordinate. That means all of us—including you—serve Master Jose. That's what it actually means to join a guild."
"I already know this," Gajeel grunted, staring right back at her.
"True, but kids like you probably don't know this next part," Sheila continued, her voice cool and steady as she pointed a gloved finger at him. "Master Jose is one of the five Wizard Saints. That title is reserved exclusively for the true anomalies of the magical world—wizards whose destructive potential is so massive and unique that they exist in a league entirely of their own."
She let her hand drop back into her pocket.
"Saying you don't care about the rules isn't just a slight against the rest of the members here. It's basically disrespecting the Master himself."
Hearing and understanding Sheila's words, the rest of the guild hall completely boiled over. A number of older mages began shouting from the tables.
"Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?!"
"Someone needs to teach this punk some respect!"
"He's awfully confident for a little brat!"
Before long, the crowd was a roaring wall of noise, completely siding with Damian and encouraging him to teach Gajeel a brutal lesson.
Juvia looked over at Gajeel, her face pale.
"See what you did, Gajeel? Just bow your head and apologize like I did! All they want is a simple apology and they'll be satisfied."
"Huh? No way in hell!" Gajeel shot back, glaring at every wizard around him. "I ain't scared of nobody. I'll take all of you stupid bastards at once!"
He threw his hands out, his crimson eyes flashing with absolute defiance. "After all, I'm the Iron Dragon Slayer! Gajeel Lionheart!"
'Dragon Slayer?' Damian raised an eyebrow at the term, looking at Gajeel with genuine confusion. 'I guess it's just some stupid nickname he gave himself.'
Juvia let out a heavy sigh, burying her face in her hands. "Haa…! Why is he like this?"
"That friend of yours is going to get into some serious trouble if he doesn't learn to swallow his pride," Sheila spoke up, stepping up right beside Juvia.
"He's not my friend," Juvia muttered defensively, her cheeks burning. "I just know who he is, that's all."
"I see. My mistake, then."
Gajeel thrust his bare arm straight out, pointing it directly at Damian's face. "Iron Dragon's Club!"
But unfortunately for Gajeel, his arm didn't change. In fact, absolutely nothing happened. The air didn't even ripple.
"Huh?" A wave of total confusion washed over Gajeel's face. He stared down at his fist. "What the…"
Almost immediately, his eyes widened in sheer panic. 'My magic…? It's gone! I can't feel my magical energy!'
In the blink of an eye, Damian vanished.
Before Gajeel could even process the movement, Damian appeared right in front of him, his hand clamping down like a vice onto the boy's outstretched arm. He had moved with such blinding speed that no one in the room—aside from Sheila—could even track his trajectory.
To everyone else, it looked like pure teleportation.
"What—?!"
BAM!
Damian delivered a devastating right straight punch directly into Gajeel's lower torso, the sheer force instantly knocking every bit of air right out of the boy's lungs.
Gajeel choked, his eyes bulging, but Damian wasn't done. While still gripping the boy's arm, Damian lifted him completely off his feet and hurled him effortlessly through the air.
Gajeel's body crashed heavily into the sunken, circular fighting pit at the center of the hall. He hit the wooden floor with a loud, sickening thud.
Damian stepped to the edge of the pit, looking down at the gasping boy before turning to face the roaring crowd.
"Who wants to see the pit painted red with this brat?!" Damian yelled, raising a fist.
A deafening chorus of cheers and bloodthirsty shouts erupted from the Phantom Lord wizards, eagerly egging the S-Class Mage on.
Gajeel let out a series of rough, ragged coughs, forcing himself up from the dirt of the pit. "Damn it…!"
As he dragged himself to his feet, he took a deep, shuddering breath, a bitter realization finally sinking in. 'When I used that Iron Dragon's Roar back in the corridor… it must have drained every last drop of my magic.'
Not only was Gajeel completely out of magical energy—his Magic Container run totally dry—but his arm was still bleeding heavily from his previous clash. On top of that, his muscles screamed in agony, blistered and bruised from being slammed into Juvia's boiling water earlier.
Even if he refused to show it to the roaring crowd, Gajeel was running on pure fumes. He was at his absolute limit.
Wiping a streak of blood from his chin, he looked up to see Damian stepping over the iron railing and entering the pit.
"Just… who the hell is this guy?" Gajeel panted, forcing his legs to stay locked.
Damian caught the question and let out a sharp, toothy grin. "The name's Damian, brat. And I'm going to personally teach you how to respect your elders. I guess you could say I'm a bit special around here."
Gajeel spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor, his crimson eyes flashing with a desperate defiance. "Well, so the fuck am I!"
"Is that supposed to be a joke?" Damian asked, his amber eyes locking onto the exhausted kid.
Back near the ruined corridor doorway, Juvia watched the S-Class Mage close the distance. She turned an anxious look toward Sheila.
"Isn't that guy being a bit dramatic? I mean, sure, Gajeel said some really bad things, but he's just a kid like me."
Sheila, however, remained entirely stoic, her lusterless eyes reflecting none of the chaos in the room. "You think he's being dramatic, Juvia? I think Damian is teaching him a necessary lesson."
She kept her gaze fixed on the pit.
"Imagine Gajeel said those exact words to a Dark Wizard instead of us. If that Dark Wizard happened to be powerful enough, Gajeel's mouth could land him in a blood feud with an entire syndicate."
Sheila looked down at the young rain-maker.
"You understand what I'm saying, right? In a world like ours, a kid with that kind of attitude doesn't last long. Do you know what the best-case scenario is in a situation like that?"
Juvia slowly shook her head, her chest tightening.
"The best-case scenario," Sheila said flatly, "is your guildmate walking away with a broken bone or two. The worst-case scenario is Gajeel ending up dead in a ditch."
Juvia swallowed hard. She understood the reality of Dark Guilds—unsanctioned, lawless organizations filled with criminals who wouldn't hesitate to murder a child for speaking out of line.
She knew Gajeel had brought this on himself, yet watching him stand alone in the center of the pit, she couldn't help but feel a sudden pang of sympathy.
Sheila, who knew Juvia better than anyone, immediately recognized the conflict shifting across the little girl's face.
Dropping her severe posture, Sheila took a knee, bringing herself completely down to eye level with Juvia.
"Juvia," Sheila said softly, her voice losing its icy edge. "You know that I care for you deeply. And you should also know I am willing to do absolutely anything in my power to keep you safe and happy. That is what it means to be your guardian."
She placed her leather-gloved hands gently onto Juvia's small shoulders, anchoring her focus. "So I want to ask you something. And I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Can you do that?"
Juvia offered a slow, hesitant nod.
"Do you want me to step in and save Gajeel?" Sheila asked, her tone completely serious. "If I do this, I will be going against Damian and the entire guild hall to back up your play. But I am willing to do it if you ask."
She paused, letting the weight of the moment hang between them. "Or… do you want me to stand down and let this play out? I want you to think very carefully about your answer."
Sheila gently leaned forward, pressing her forehead lightly against Juvia's. All the coldness of the Phantom Lord S-Class Mage vanished, leaving nothing but an unyielding, protective warmth in her final words.
"After all, I'm an S-Class Wizard, too. I'm entirely on par with Damian." Sheila whispered, her dull eyes holding a rare, fierce spark. "The choice is yours, Juvia. What do you want to do?"
Juvia stared silently into the fighting pit.
Gajeel could barely remain standing. Damian continued walking toward him.
Her fingers slowly tightened.
"...I…"